Here is my ride report from my very first brevet, the Tahuya Hills 200k. It is renowned for its hills. I rode it without any idea what I was getting myself into; it was sponsored by the Seattle International Randonneurs, my (now) home club. Hint: RUSA is the national organization for randonneuring, Randonneurs USA.
Swing Wide, Sweet Chariot!
Out of the pasture
And into the lane,
A small herd of horses
Toward our peloton came.
Eight horses galloping,
They wheeled into our way,
Is this randonneuring?
But it’s my first brevet!!
Nostrils flaring,
Eyes glaring,
It’s just the first turn,
And already quite daring!
I’d figured on dogs,
(We had them too!)
But unbridled horses…
I hadn’t a clue.
They swung wide to miss us,
“Good horsies”, I said,
That’s just what you say
When you’re glad you’re not dead!
As quickly as that
They’re behind us, and I
Am randonneuring again,
To the Hills…Oh My!
They’d declared at departure:
“There are plenty of hills,
Eight thousand feet climbing”,
My blood took a chill.
Uphill and then down,
Seems more of the up,
Anderson Hill…One-Mile Hill,
So darn much up!
The route was well laid,
Controls: organized;
I got into my rhythm,
Perhaps I’d win my prize?
I finished in time,
“Where’s my medal?” I asked.
“See RUSA” they told me,
“You’ve completed your task.”
But this one’s not past,
It’ll stay with me till
Sweet Chariot carries me home,
Up that biggest of hills.
For I’ll remember that look
Till my dying day,
In the lead horse’s eye,
“Let them live,” it did say.
Swing wide, Sweet Chariot,
So I can cycle lots more,
Randonneuring’s exhilarating,
To enjoy: endure!
And into the lane,
A small herd of horses
Toward our peloton came.
Eight horses galloping,
They wheeled into our way,
Is this randonneuring?
But it’s my first brevet!!
Nostrils flaring,
Eyes glaring,
It’s just the first turn,
And already quite daring!
I’d figured on dogs,
(We had them too!)
But unbridled horses…
I hadn’t a clue.
They swung wide to miss us,
“Good horsies”, I said,
That’s just what you say
When you’re glad you’re not dead!
As quickly as that
They’re behind us, and I
Am randonneuring again,
To the Hills…Oh My!
They’d declared at departure:
“There are plenty of hills,
Eight thousand feet climbing”,
My blood took a chill.
Uphill and then down,
Seems more of the up,
Anderson Hill…One-Mile Hill,
So darn much up!
The route was well laid,
Controls: organized;
I got into my rhythm,
Perhaps I’d win my prize?
I finished in time,
“Where’s my medal?” I asked.
“See RUSA” they told me,
“You’ve completed your task.”
But this one’s not past,
It’ll stay with me till
Sweet Chariot carries me home,
Up that biggest of hills.
For I’ll remember that look
Till my dying day,
In the lead horse’s eye,
“Let them live,” it did say.
Swing wide, Sweet Chariot,
So I can cycle lots more,
Randonneuring’s exhilarating,
To enjoy: endure!
Keep it rhymin'
CurioRando
