[Think "City of New Orleans] Took the old rocket out today, in honor of my 71st birthday.
Ode to My Wilier
Riding on my Wilier,
Carbon frame so true,
Through the hills and curves of Tennessee,
Past the fog and morning dew.
Dura Ace still whisper-shifts,
Mavic rims still roll,
And the Flite Ti saddle’s memory
Knows the rhythm of my soul.
Good mornin’ to the Dragon, tail twistin' in the haze,
Where shadows fall like switchbacks on those deep Appalachian days.
And I’m rollin’ past the pine line, with silence in my ears,
Just me and that old Wilier, still glidin' through the years.
There’s a lonesome song of rubber
As it hums along the grade,
Echoes of old summer rides
That time cannot evade.
That frame was born in Italy—
Pure poetry and speed—
A stallion forged in Modena
To answer every need.
Good evenin’ to the valleys, to the gravel and the streams,
Where every climb was struggle, and every coast was dream.
And I’m flyin’ through the mem’ries like a rider never old,
On that red-black Wilier, still framed in carbon gold.
Maybe one day I’ll hang it up,
Display it on the wall,
But I know when I look at it
I’ll still hear that call.
Of ridin’ free through sunrise
Where the Smokies kiss the blue,
And feel that faithful Wilier
Still carryin’ me through.
So here's to old companions, to the stories we have spun,
Two wheels, a frame, a thousand roads, beneath the southern sun.
And I’ll keep on ridin’ softly, wherever I may be,
With that Wilier beside me, hummin’ harmony.
Apologies to Steve Goodman
by toaster404