BathMTB: Ride Report: The Ride Before Christmas

[Chris Fice]

Great ride (pub) last night :)

Also I'd like to urge everyone to vote for Mark Cavendish in sports personality of the year. 

To make it easy for you, here's the number 0901 522 2601

Chris 

Sent from my iPhone
+44 7548 672483
chris_fice at hotmail.com

On 22 Dec 2011, at 12:37, kevin boyd <kaboyd at hotmail.com> wrote:

> Nice Andy........Hope none of your heads were too bad this morning.
>  
> Kevin
>  
> Date: Thu, 22 Dec 2011 11:56:51 +0000
> From: DESESCIT-SSSAS at mod.uk
> To: bathmtb at mtb-oz.com; David.Bland at roger-bullivant.co.uk; jollymountaineer at hotmail.com
> CC: 
> Subject: BathMTB: Ride Report: The Ride Before Christmas
> 
>  
> 
> THE RIDE BEFORE CHRISTMAS 
> 
> 'Twas the ride before Christmas, Winter Solstice night
> 
> Andy, Dave, Matt, Dan, Tav, Kevin and Chris if I’m right
> 
> To The Packhorse hoping to find the stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
> 
> In hopes that The Chip Goddess would also be there;
> 
> The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
> 
> While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
> 
> And mamma in her 'kerchief, and the cat in her lap,
> 
> Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
> 
> When out on the hills there arose such a clatter,
> 
> They sprang from their beds to see what was the matter.
> 
> Away to the window they flew like a flash,
> 
> Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
> 
> No moon on the breast of new-fallen snow
> 
> Just the usual mist and mud down below,
> 
> When, what to their wondering eyes should appear,
> 
> But a gang of mountain bikers, riding mostly single speeds (not reindeer),
> 
> With lights shining bright, so lively and quick,
> 
> They thought for a moment it might be St. Nick.
> 
> More rapid than eagles on coursers they came,
> 
> They whistled, and shouted, and called eachother names;
> 
> "Now, Dasher (that’s Tav)! now, Dancer (Chris)! now, Prancer (Andy) and Vixen (she was behind the bar later)!
> 
> On, Comet (Dave)! on Cupid (Matt?)! on, Donder (Dan) and Blitzen (Kevin)!
> 
> To the top of the hill! to the top of the wall!
> 
> Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
> 
> As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
> 
> When they meet with an obstacle, they mount to the sky,
> 
> So up to the Pack Horse-top the coursers they flew,
> 
> The bikes covered in mud, thirsty and hungry too.
> 
> They arrived, in a twinkling, and smelt from the kitchen
> 
> Food. Could it be chips? they were thinking
> 
> They drew up their bikes and headed inside 
> 
> A bit hot and sweaty a result of the ride
> 
> No sign of St. Nicholas but better instead 
> 
> The Chip Goddess was there although not dressed in red
> 
> She served up the beers and the cider (not perry)
> 
> Dave said her cheeks looked like a plump cherry!!?
> 
> The chips they were hot and of varying sizes,
> 
> The cider it came in various guises;
> 
> All was consumed as they sat by the fire,
> 
> as the bar bill it rose ever higher and higher,
> 
> Until the time came the evening at an end,
> 
> They’d climbed the big hill now it was time to descend;
> 
> They sprang to their bikes, one gave a whistle,
> 
> And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
> 
> I heard one exclaim, as he disappeared out of sight,
> 
> "Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."
> 
>  
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