Hermance Run

The ride it was dark, we were riding at night

the papy did fly over bars. Yes in flight.

But not for too long, he landed quite hard

even though we did ride in his own back yard

the root it was big, the papy quite blind

for once he was riding too close, just behind

and heard missiles yell, but still he just fell

because lights, he has none, how long must we tell ?

that papy to buy some to push night away

so he can fly over roots, not go the wrong way.

with ripped nails and mud all over his arm

more fright he did have than major big harm

we pushed on right through. to the end we did come

but split in two were we, two groups did get home

for somewhere along the trail we got split

and ended up riding apart. oh damn it

well anyway, the beer and the skewers were waiting

so we pedaled on hard to the choulex. I'm stating

that dinner was fine, the red wine though spanish

was excellent and good. Boy we were famished.

when all was ate up and the bottles were empty

no reason to stay more! Our bellies filled plenty !!

Verbier Grimentz 2004 - Poem!!

Been waiting and waiting and waiting my dear,

for the weekend that comes but just once a year,

That weekend where many young fellows set off,

for some riding and lots of big beers and such stuff

That weekend that takes us to Verbier this year,

is the one that they’ll talk of for ages, no fear.


The tenth anniversary of riding was here

It couldnt be ten years since, then. Oh dear,

when we started riding we were much younger then,

Yes you just take are ages right now, minus 10

And you’ll see that no matter how old we do get

That we still know how to have fun, no regrets.


Well this one was different, it was not quite the same,

For we went for 3 days of riding. Not tame.

Those buggers they took of 1 day more than usual

To do somthing that was not very useful.

That day they took off to go riding downhill,

And believe me they really did get their fill.


They took of alright and arrived there at twelve,

With the missile all frantic for riding himself

down that big nasty hill where the cabines go up

and the riders go down, then they fall then get up.

Sometimes with bruises and sometimes with curses

well thats what happens when you fall. You need nurses ??


When the meal is over they head for their rooms

And rapidly get changed for the day, its past noon.

Where the hell are those buggers, where did they go

Don’t they know that there’s some great riding to do ?

So the missile shows up and hes dressed for a fight

With the hill that he knows that can give quite a fright.


Well the riding ahead was just great you will see

We kept right on riding , no stopping to pee.

But jo cornet solo did stop once or twice

To fall on some rocks with his ribs, hmmm..not nice

And the others ? Well maybe some others got hurt

but mostly we manged to not lose our shirts.


The papy and missile do have a good battle.

Good grief, that papy, he’s quite hard to rattle.

He goes down the hill very fast, I have seen

He’s behind, I can’t shake him, I just want to scream:

« Bugger off, go behind, slow down, leave me be. »

I’m dressed like a turtle for battle, not he.



But he travels on his bike quite much faster than light

Leaving me quite frustrated that I can’t shake that tyke

Not to mention trois decis, also riding along

Going slower, (a bit), cos hes not quite as strong.

On the downhills, hes slower, a little, not by much

Cause he fell, it did hurt, on les Crozet he crunched.


Manic laughs, lots of thrills and quite many a spill

You would think that some of them had taken some pill

A pill that is called Novanarbis you say ?

No not that one, not that one, no never, no way.

That one is the missiles, noone else they can take it

The one that they took was not that one. Cant fake it.


With many more miles without braking, much fun

Tired arms, legs and back, now lets go have some rum.

Well a shandy, or a panaché or a bloody big beer

We did sit and have some and raised a big cheer

Where was mike, lets call him, hes missing the fun

Good grief, telepathics, we called him, he’s come !


Down the hill past the bisse, we were riding and laughing

Past some kids that were running and shouting out something

Good grief said the missile, oh shit said trois decis

This kids they were running, it could have been messy

For a firecracker up in your face is not funny,

Its a wonder trois decis black shorts were not runny !


Discovering new trails is like taking a virgin,

You do it whilst on your face is a big grin,

The one that we found that wound down to the village

Was one that was grassy and one we could pillage

By riding full bore down its slippy green passage

Riding smoothly, no worries, no rocks to do damage.


The downpour. It started. It rained. Did it pour.

We thought it was going to go on with some more

Whilst downing 3 beers with 2 big ones, one small one

Dopey showed up with a grin, hes a tall one.

By driving up there to the mountain he came

He cant ride, but « hey, hes here all the same. »


Dinner was good, It was very delicious

The souris of lamb, oh goodness oh gracious,

It sort of had stuff that was sticking up straight

Like a big phallic object right there in the plate.

The wine it was drunk, we had more and more.

Papy was shouting out, « is six the score ? »



So onto the nightclub, the one we all know

The one where we feel that to go with the flow

We should all be younger. Much younger, oh dear,

good grief, we could all go to prison right here.

For ogling young talent its so so much fun.

For those breasts that are pert, well they know how to stun.


So trois decis takes off to the bar he knows well

Gin and tonics. Disgusting. He dont know me well.

The English can’t drink them post dinner by dozens.

I’d sooner end up with my right bollock frozen

But I drank some. No pride. No guts to say no.

I was thirsty. So I drank them. I did not say no.


The biking was waiting. That much we did know.

The others werent drinking, where did they go ?

To their beds. They went sleeping. To their beds they did snuggle.

No drinking for them, they dont want heads in a muddle.

But reason saw more than is normally usual.

So we headed for home, rather early. Unusual.


Up the next day. Rising up in the morning.

Not too early. We missed the sun that was dawning.

Breakfast, bills paid, shits shat, we are happy.

We are ready to go but our mood it turns crappy.

Where is the shankowitz, where can he be,

Its terrible, so terrible for a newbie he be !!!


Ah, not to worry, he’s broken his bike.

His ancient old proflex won’t go for this hike.

The derailleur you see that is fixed at the end.

Did rip itself off, can’t be fixed, will not mend.

He throws his bike down on the floor without pity.

Its broken. Its dead. His day will be shitty.


But thankfully someone had bikes that were two.

And amazing enough it did fit like his shoe.

For his legs are as long as the gibaules of Simon

So his mount was a heavy one. Level Betty to ride on.

The pedals came off, they were switched in a trice

So shankowitz could enjoy the day without price.


So off they all went up the mountain so high

To the croix de cœur. Some did not fly

Cause its steeper than steep and it goes up and up

Its enough to sometimes make you throw up.

Gantner is missing, but he’s on his way,

He’ll catch us all up and blow us away.



We regroup at the top, some people are sweating

The first to the top ? No idea, I was pedaling.

So up comes the missile with trois decis in tow,

with pocthier, maslij and more puffing now.

And finally to the most very tip top,

came gantner and henzi with all here to stop.


What a view from the top of the col most amazing

To look down on cows that are swiss and are grazing.

We look at the view taking sips of our camelbacks,

But shortly we’re off, on our backs slinging packs.

The missile takes off to do some quick filming,

The others ride down, some with brakes that are squealing.


Its then that we realise that gantner is failing,

To brake with his brakes. Good grief they are ailing.

And braking with front brake alone he descends.

The size of his balls on which he depends !!!

They’re surely enough to fill trousers for two,

as he goes down quite fast, sometimes faster than you !


So we start and we stop and we stop and we start

We are waiting around quite a lot. Are we tarts ?

We wait at the top, we wait at the bottom,

You’d think that we wanted the hills here to flatten.

We hop up and down making faces and such

Do we want to be here. Do we like it so much ??


Well the answer to that is so plain and so clear

Because we keep coming back year after year.

Climbing up hills and cols with no end

We wished we were fitter, we think it and send,

our thoughts out to wander as we climb them damn hills

So we get up them faster without need of pills.


Why do we keep coming back here to wander ?

Its a question with answers, no need to ponder.

Because its great fun, to ride with our friends

We dont need football, or other dumb trends.

We just like to ride and enjoy feeling ill,

Even if we do take many a spill.


And talking of falling I must make it clear

That Potts takes the medal for falling round here.

I have no idea how he manages to do it,

But fall. That he does. Hes actually good at it.

He falls for the camera, he falls for the sport

And when asked. « Why ? » He has no retort.



Arriving at Collons or les Collons maybe

We sit and we drink, and I feel like a baby.

I have no more legs and my stomach is empty

Cause all I’ve been eating is bars and gook. Plenty.

In fact so much crap have I eaten today.

I feel like I’ve eaten bad food in Bombay.


So we wait and we wait and we wait there some more.

Claude is impatient, quite vocal, he’s sore.

Cause he can climb faster than guys in the Tour,

We cant keep up. He must wait. Thats the score.

But finally when Cornets bikes cable is fixed

We set off again to fly down like a Pheonix.


A new path we find, to avoid that damn Heremence.

Cos its boring down there. We are thinking « Avoidance »

We looked at the map and we think we are sure,

Theres a better way down that we’d like to endure.

And sure as Trois Decis farts stink like like a durian

We embark on a voyage, along and not down again.


But thinking we know that the way is straight on.

We pedal right on. Down that way, missiles gone.

But he finds sure enough at the end of the day,

That damn it, and drat it, we’ve gone the wrong way.

The missile did force the wrong way there to go,

They all must have hated him. Am I wrong or no ??


So off we set down along paths quite unfriendly.

The balls of that gantners, hes lucky they’re dangly.

Cos’ going down there with two brakes was quite fun,

Imagine just going down there with but one!

Well, balls are alright, when they help you to ride

But at times you still fall and do damage your pride.


You see theres a bit that was nasty and tricky,

But gantner attempts it, you see he’s not picky.

He has a delimma, as you will soon see,

He’s lucky he didn’t run into a tree.

With only one front wheel brake working quite well

He fucks up. His balls didn’t help when he fell.


It looked kind of nasty, that scrape on his leg

I wouldnt swap with him, even if you did beg.

That scrape he did take it, a grin on his chin

« Yet more for my war wounds », hes says, no chagrin.

It swelled up quite nasty and started to bleed.

The gantners a tough one. No pansy. Not he.



We get to the bottom and for once in my life,

I can travel along here with barely no strife.

Cos usually along here I’m knackered. You see

we avoided that dip down to Heremence. Yippee.

We travel along. Not too slow not too fast

You see, cos we started quite far in the past.


So we’re tired, quite tired and wondering are we

If the sky above our tired heads will just pee.

Cos although we’ve been lucky to get here so far,

We’re not wet. We’re still dry, though we’re not in a car.

But we think we will probably get rather drippy,

Cos clouds, they are clouding over quite quickly.


And then we get to the climb that we’re dreading

The last of the day, towards it we’ve been heading.

The one to the mandelon. That bastard is high.

But up it and over it we must struggle and try.

Its long and its hard and the girls should quite like it.

Er sorry, where was I. Ah yes I did hike it.


You see I got tired of sitting on saddle.

It makes my ass feel feel its been hit with a paddle.

So when no one was looking. In front (or behind),

I scurried off into the the woods there to hide.

A little respite for my ass I did seek.

And enjoy it I did. I could do it all week.


Cos those of you know what saddle sore is like

Its almost, just almost, its just like a spike

Thats been pressed up too close to your arse for a look

It hurts. Go away. Let me have a quick walk.

And I know that some others were exactly this way

Cos I met them. They agreed. Whilst walking next day !!


=


So I finished my hike and pull out on the road

Theres no-one in sight, good, I’m about to explode

Cause walking uphill pushing my mountain bike

Is something that I do not really like,

But its better than riding with a spear in your ass

But I’m knackered the same from walking steep grass.


Upwards to heaven it seems that I’m going.,

But as I go on, whats this, am I slowing ?

I cannot be dead from the ride undertaken

But yes it seems so, but not yet undertaker.

I still have some energey left it would seem

But it feels like somebody ran off with my spleen.



I made it, I did it, I got to the top

Of this bloody big hill, for now I can stop.

A few deep breaths later, some water to drink

I feel almost human, and I can now think

That I’ve made it, I’m here, that I vanquished that bitch

But can I really go on now, without getting a stitch ?


The hard part is over, for me that is true.

For I’ve done this before, aha, but not you.

Those ones that hate rocks and big piles of hard stuff

You’re going to be sorry you’re born, sure enough.

For ones that are virgins, and are here for the first time

They think that its over, at the top, that its fine.


I’m speaking of those who dont know where they are

Or those that do know, but hate rocks near or far

The ones that don’t know how to keep their wheels turning

When the going gets rough and wheels are determined

To block in the holes and the gaps in the road

And throw you straight off, on your nose to explode.


For round the next bend, for those that don’t know

or is there one more ? There’s no way to know !

Around the next bend, the one you cant see

Is something that’s evilly bad. Hi hi hi.

Around the next bend is a trap to be sprung

You certainly dont want to get it all wrong.


So leaving the papy to wait on our friends

I go on my way,to ride those damn bends.

I struggle around thinking its the last one

But its not, theres another, how can they go on ?

But at last to the rock field and great single track

Oh boy, I am riding, its great to be back.


I blast past the potts, who staring in horror

At wet slippy rocks, he is frozen with terror

Well thats how it seems as I pass by his bike,

Maybe, perhaps he should have taken his trike.

I love it, these rocks, they’re my favorite part

You just have to ride them, you just have to start.


If you heistate now you’ll be walking for certain.

If you don’t puff your balls up you know that its curtains.

You must ride them fast, not slowly you see

Cause if you ride slow, you will bash your poor knee.

Or something thats worse, than a broken patella.

If you fell you will wish you could ride. aaiiiiAAAh.



I’m off, it is bouncing and throwing me about

My suspensions its working, not bottoming out.

Pedaling here, and braking just there,

Lifting the nose over rocks. Just to dare.

To go a bit faster than I have before

Just hoping I dont end up on the floor.


Then its over, I’m through, didnt fall. didn’t splat.

I’m now on to some very nice single track.

You don’t want to fall to the left, you can see

Right down to the bottom, how small are those trees !

Its very far down so dont look left, just go.

Keep going ahead, and try not to slow.


Cos you’re knackered from riding those rocks in a pile

Even if they were tough, they did bring a big smile.

But you spent it, you lost it, you left it behind

The last of your puff it is gone. Don’t be blind

To the fact that your puff is now scarce

You had better watch out for the cramps. Just beware.


For cramps I have had them before in this place

And its not very good, I fell flat on my face.

First in the left leg, then in right

I thought I was going to be spending the night.

Then cramps they multiplied, came with their cousins

Good god I had cramps I am telling you, dozens.


But that was not now, a few years did go past

I remember it well, I just sat there aghast.

But now it is ending, the single track lane

I am starting to end it, oh what a pain.

I could ride this trail for hour after hour.

But actually, what could be better ? A shower.


Cos actually now I have had quite enough

And am wanting to get to a beer and some stuff

To push down my thoat that does not look like goo

I’m sick of this taste in my mouth, how bout you ?

To get to the end will be just like nirvana,

Just like for a cigar smoker,a havana.


Butt first down the hill ? No that is plain wrong.

My Butt it was sore but it knows this old song.

To go down the path that is twisty and windy

Is really just like eating very sweet candy.

But fingers are tired, I’m shagged and can’t go

As fast as I normally would. I go slow.


So papy who waited on friends who were riding

Now catches me up, he comes out of hiding.

We ride in together to Evolene have come

We’ve done it, were here, for today we are done.

Well, that is until, in an hour or three

We have eaten our fill and are ready to party.


A quick fondue later, we are ambling about

Just to the big tent, to drink and to shout.

But on the way there, something eventfull happens

That gantner bares his small ass and his apples.

They dangle about, going left, going right.

Good grief I did laugh, did guffaw. What a sight.


That gantner has always been known to be rude

That gantner has never been known as a prude.

He bares his white ass at the people he’s passing

The missile joins in, some others are clapping.

We do it sometimes, to get a quick laugh

And it works pretty good, butt its sometimes a gaffe.


And its pretty annoying when you go to such trouble

when people its aimed at don’t see it, he grumbled.

And others that get a quick taste of this sight

Probably wake up with screams late at night.

Just like the poor man who did get it in Verbier

Who shouted and raved at the claude. No, not here !!


So drinking and shouting and singing at night,

Its almost a wonder we avoided a fight.

One of us said, ‘Valaisan cul de faisin’

Shhh, said the others dont play the malin.

The other one chatted a dog that was perky

Her friend almost laid him out. What a jerk he.


More beers and some waltzing and blonde 24

Good god, that bad beer, dont give me no more.

That beer is so awfull, so vile and so grim

just throw it away, just give me some gin.

Thank god there was other beer there in the store

So I could keep drinking some more and some more.


A quiet night in, as compared to past years.

We got home at 2. A short night. No tears.

We all were quite happy to rest our long legs.

Well some of have ones that are as short as pegs !

To sleep in a bed thats prepared just before

by putting the mattress right down on the floor.


The morning it comes rather fast, way too early

I’m woken by pounding on doors. Now I’m surly.

A big beaming face with freckles and all

Shouts out, get up now its past 8. We are all

Finished with breakfast and ready to go

Better act quick, cos right now you’re too slow.


So stumbling from bed, hardly able to see

I open the door and step upfor a pee.

I finish up there and head down for some bread

Thinking quite happily, It don’t hurt, my head.

For last nights beery capers were cut short and sweet

And now I am ready to bike with my feet.


A few hours later, or perhaps not that much,

The gantner has finished with his final touch

To his bike that is looking progressively dirty

that has special brakes, you could say they ‘no workee’.

For even if you are as light as a feather

Its no good to stop without brakes, my young fella.


You see that big balled and small friend of mine

Has biked his way down on one brake at a time

And he’s used up the pads, the ones in the front

Now they are gone and he just wants to grunt.

He has no more brakes and as you will soon see

This guy he is made, not like you, not like me.


We set off to climb these hills in our path

We set off for Eison. I just want a bath.

I’ve done so much climbing that I am done in

But my legs they keep turning. I dont want to sin

By saying I can’t, I wont and I shan’t

You see you cant say it, you cannot say « can’t. »


So climbing we do and we do it some more

I’m glad that the Henzi is also quite sore

And he’s taking his time to go up to the top

And I am right with him. We will not just stop.

We get to the place where we normally wait

And no-one is there, well ok, thats just great.


For we choose our own path, the top we will take.

We won’t go below. Its our fun thats at stake !

But the rain it did fall the night not long past

We are slipping on roots, they dont grip, damn and blast

The front wheel is slippinig to left and to right

I’m behind the old gantner. Its me who is fright



Ened of slipping down left with a misplaced front wheel

Not gantner, not gantner, how can he not feel

That the slope on the left is a little bit steep

And to fall right down there. Well you would say EEP.

And the Henzi himself is flying right now

I’m a loser. I’m back. I just don’t know how


To ride these damn roots that are all wet and slick

To do it is one very pretty good trick.

The gantner can do it with one brake alone

And I am behind feeling weak, not in tone

With these buggers before me who can seem to ride

These buggery, slippery roots. Damn my hide.


Well Gantners « no brakee », it was really quite serious

For what he did then it would make you delerious.

The only one person who could do what he did

Is the gantner himself. No one else. I’m candid.

I am certainly sure that not one of the rest

Could make it down whole, in one piece. What a test.


Pas de Lona or Naax. Well, we are about to decide.

But our thoughts they turn quickly towards homicide.

For our friends that did phone us, a minute before

Did not end up waiting and went on afore

We could get there to encourage them not to climb up

But along, because frankly, wouldnt you give right up


If you brakes were not working, your legs like jelly

To climb pas de lona, for an idea ; quite smelly.

But whatever, the decison was taken for us

So upwards we went. We try not to fuss.

But a word in an ear or two at the end

And all is Ok. No problems to mend.


L’a Vielle. It is up there. We know where to go

But that hill we do climb it puts on quite a show.

Sometimes it is steeper, some times not so much

Just how it does this neat trick. I’ve a hunch.

That it sees we are struggling and just for some fun

Changes the pitch of the hill just to stun.


But we’re more clever than the hill we do ride

No way, not ever, it wont take our hide

We’ll just grunt and puff and hiss as we go

And we’ll even pull out our guts if we have to

For if ever there was a hill we should curse

Its this one. Its awful. oh god how it hurts.



But riding and talking and thinking of stuff

We get to the top to l’a vielle sure enough.

And what do we see since our eyesights to fine

The beautiful views of the alps most divine.

And other stuff too that is quite good to see

That is young, in tight shorts and says « hello » to me !


So invigorated with bars of horrible stuff

That tastes like you just ate a big ball snuff

Washed down with some water to ease the pallette

We set of to climb pas de lona. To set

Feet on top of that buggery climb

We almost go vertical. Just like a vine.


So now I am here on the slope that is steep

Walking up forward and then slipping with feet

That cant find a flat place to rest for a while

I really could do with some iron to file

This damned mountain flat like a pancake to be

But where would the fun be in that, hmm. No glory.


To climb is a mans work. I love it you see.

A macho mans work to climb up here and be

Up with gods, above all below. I am somone.

But wait, what is this, a woman ?

It cannot be true, I’m a man cant she see it

But macho or mouse. Overtaken. She does it.


Well, that would be others not me, I’m before !

But quickly she catches me up. I’m quite sore

About that. She sets off to go down the steep way

I’m right there behind. Her red ass it does sway.

But downhill she’s no match for the missile : Impressed.

Shes goes down quite well, for a girl she is dressed.


But finally Fabienne is passed by the demon

Who is thinking only about spilling his semen.

Cause that ass it is friendly and taut and well heeled

Good grief I’d give all to just give it one feel.

But how do I know that her name it is such.

Trois decis, he told me. He does not miss much.


So finally together we all do regroup.

Again we are gathered, we are quite a troupe.

And how does it come to be this way now.

Well, everyone followed the mike, this is how

They ended up back behind those that are here

At the back. Those behind are in front. Lost ? Oh dear.



Whatever. No bother. We wait for a while

And trois decis goes on ahead with a smile

Because now we have lasted right unto the end

And now we can nearly, almost see that last bend.

To go down is so great and is cool and is fun

Suddenly no more are my legs quite so done.


Henzi, he comes and he passes the crux

Of the hill. Now its down. We dont need a tux

To step up to the stage and lay out plain to see

That we enjoy going down to the bottom. Yahee.

They shout out like fools as they lower their seats

Better watch out below, you’ll be blasted to bits.


Off with a roar and battle cries two

Go the Henzi and Missile. We know what to do.

It bashes and bangs and it throws us about

But for now we dont care, we let it hang out.

And we zip and we flash and we do something reckless

Its wonder we both don’t end up quite senseless.


The rushing of air in our ears it does sing.

Down the path our bodies and bikes we do fling.

Through puddles and snowfields and big piles of rocks

We love it. We’re grinning. Our heads must be blocks.

Cause if we come off travelling at such great speed

We surely wont smile or grin, so take heed.


If you want to go downhill like inanimate objects

You’d better check out. Put your brain in your pocket.

Cause going downhill at such speed is ridiculous

Even if your planning and skill is meticulous

You wont do much laughing or joking tonight

If your heads in your ass cos you just arent too bright.


So missile goes on and he spies a quick challenger

Who takes some offence as I pass with a clamour.

He doesnt like much to be passed in a flash

So he pedals, its quite clear, he also goes fast.

So we battle on downwards. He does get in front

Cause I lifted the barrier for him. Come on you damn runt.


But pedalling as fast as my legs they will go

I am feeling the ryhthm, I’m starting to flow

To catch up this bastard is all I can think of

To brake somewhat later in corners to take off

A precious few metres of lead that he has

And I do it, I beat him, ha haaaaa, just take that !



The henzi ? Well henzi, he rolls up quite soon.

I think that perhaps I’m in a cartoon

For surely a grin that’s so wide and so toothy

Cannot be real. But it is. And hes forty ???

We gather our breath and we roll on our beasts.

We are hungry, so hungry, quite soon we will feast.


So down on the tarmac, the henzi, No brakes.

On this kind of stuff, the missile he shakes.

But as they approch that delectable cherry

The last bit of choice. Here Henzi does tarry.

The bit that goes down through the rockfield is tough

Henzi knows well this is missiles best stuff.


Oh the delight, the great soaring of heartrate

To travel this stuff, that is tough is just so great.

Its dangerous though, but who gives a damn.

I just let it go. And no, I dont sham.

The faster you ride these big rocks with sharp points

The less you will feel in your arms and your joints.


Mad I am. Yes. But with some concentration

You can go quite fast, with determination

You battle those rocks, choosing a careful line

And when you are focused, the slowing of time

Allows you to get down at great speed, no crashing

There is not your life, in your eyes, its not flashing.


With fingers quite numb and grins now receding

I’m thinking the day is quite quickly receding

And almost were done and the riding is over

But there is one last hill. Just dont pull over

Right now. There is one more grin to be had

As the henzi pulls up, we are off, we’re not sad.


The henzi says something that makes me feel free

And it’s lucky we do not meet one or three

Of those trees we are riding through down at the bottom

The speed which we reach is quite hard to fathom

And finally when all of the cycling is done

We’ made it to Grimentz. Has anyone won ??


There are no winners, no losers, just riders

We all end up here with big smiles behind us

To arrive here in Grimentz is pure joy for all

And that day not one of us did take a fall

Except Gantner, poor gantner had a good tale to tell

You see, with no brakes. Is he here ? Is all well ?



Well Claude, that dear gantner has developed a way

To ruin good riding shoes, and just in one day.

When you have no more brakes you must use what you have.

You sit on your bike and start praying, my love.

Well you can do that, or you can start to employ

Those shoes on your feet. With them you deploy


your brakes. Are your feet and on feet are your shoes

If you must go downhill it is them you must use.

But carefully, do it, you dont want to blame

That your speed is too fast when your shoes start to flame

For hot feet you’ll get if you ride like the claude.

Who has magical tales of braking to applaud.


So finally when all of the riding is through.

We get there we’re happy. But now what to do ?

Well eating is one of the things that can help

We find some good stuff and a beer down to gulp.

We finish off everything that there is here to eat

We gobble. Quite ugly. We’re not very neat.


We scramble in buses for home we must head

All secretly thinking, can’t we bike more instead ?

But that is for next year, two thousand and five

It wont come so soon, we won’t feel alive.

We’ll be waiting and waiting and waiting my dear,

for the weekend that comes but just once a year.

Couvaloup and Forest Excursion

A propos de notre parcours nocturne, il est à relever que 3 bikers avec un goût prononcé pour les raids hors du commun ont presque terminé leur itinéraire prévu et ceci

pour le pire comme le meilleur. L'originalité de l'équipe se distingue en premier par celui qui devait ouvrir le parcours et s'est retrouvé sans lumière après la première

descente. A la bougie par la bise environnante, ça aurait été pire qu'un gâteau d'anniversaire. Le deuxième, sans torche au départ mais un peu fellé se retrouve avec une

seule et unique garantie, le puissant phare du troisième gaillard rôdé à toutes épreuves et que l'on bénit au passage, sans quoi l'astre de nuit à la forme croissante aurait

été notre dernière planche de salut pour rejoindre nos pénates avant le lever du jour. L'épisode à travers les bois entre Guinfard et le chemin du creux de la Griffe n'a pas été spécialement adapté vu l'horaire un peu tardif des aventuriers. La faune locale a bien du se marrer; nous aussi mais jaune. Alors à tous ceux qui n'ont pas pu venir, vous avez loupé un magnifique crépuscule au resto Couvaloup de Crans où les crôutes au fromage en aurait fait baver plus d'un. Notre tour s'achève par la route à la Saint-Bernard et comme prévu les pieds sur le guidon. La nuit aura été courte pour le team mais avec le projet du prochain tour cette foi de jour.

Merci à vous mes potes Mike et Simon pour votre participation.

Pierre alias Pony-Expres

There and back again or To see that its quite far indeed !!

We started that day on the road out from Gantners.
We started out well we were going much faster,
than normally we go down the path through the trees,
over rocks, over roots, through tight places. Yes please.
Until we meet places in the path that were tricky,
and head over heels fell the Gantner. Quite silly.
He failed to notice from going so fast,
if you place your hand wrong, then you fall with a "Blast"

"How can I fall now with the missile a coming?
I'd better get up or the guy will be grinning
and saying with a smile, "Did you fall ? Did you crash ?
Did you hurt your poor self as you fell on your ass?"

Well by now wheels are humming.
Brakes are braking, pedals running,
around and around and around a bit more.
We are grinning like fools. You know the score.

So we get to the parking and lo and behold.
The ones that are biking are ones that are old.
No newbies. No city bikes, no bald tires or worse.
There are no new new "new ones". There's no one to nurse.
Just the crew from the old days.
Just the crew that did start it.
The bike, papy, gantner, just missing..... who was it ?

Ah yes I remember, Trois Decis was missing.
I wonder just who he is with and is kissing....
the group he does see on a thursday I think.
I can imagine they are creating quite a big stink
as they talk and they drink and they drink and they talk.
And sometimes, just maybe, a good little joke.

Anyway, where was I, oh yes at the parking.
We are off, lets go riding. There's no time for talking.
Well we get nowhere fast, we are just round the corner,
when papys bike starts to complain at its owner.
That papy was fuming, but managed to hide it.
At hors piste they'd better be closed or out riding
cos that small little screw that was supposed to be loc-tited,
apparently wasn't, and was in there with out it!

So papy brings out his small tool. No not THAT one.
Which one. The ikea one. Who else has one? Noone!
You see its a tool that is sort of a shite one.
I think that we maybe will get him to buy one
that works, doesnt bend, doesnt ruin the bolt,
that hes trying to tighten, but fails. Just dont.

So we're off, for some more short bursts of some riding,
but we stop and we stop for our bikes they are whining.
Cos the missiles is wrong, doesnt work without clicking.
His bike it did almost get quite a good kicking.
Cos the cranks were not tight, they were slipping and loose.
Damn that bike, damn the thing, hang it from a high noose.

Not to mention the fact that his legs were like jelly.
They were weak. They were puny. No excuses. Just jelly.
You see he had trouble to keep up to his mates,
up in front they were keeping up quite a good pace.

Through the barnyards and mansions and fields of Geneva,
it was just so beautiful, the result of a fever ?
Just fabulous countryside out there for all.
I wonder just what it would look like in fall !

There we are, we have fixed it, that papys dilemma.
We could have been fixing his damned bike for ever.
But for Claude, jo bricole, he did sweat and get oil,
all over his hands, from papys bike, as he toiled
because papy, dear papy, he watched and he told,
that gantner to work on his bike.
He did hold on to his poor bike as the poor gantner sweated
and fixed his bike up. But he didnt regret it.
'Cos that bike held its self and its parts all together,
we could have just maybe, ridden onwards for ever.

Well, maybe on Tuesday last month or last week,
but not this one right here cos someone's too weak,
to ride with a smile, without puffing or grunting.
I tell you last night I was getting disgruntled.

So we come to A Pussy or something like that,
ah no I remember Avussy. Avussy, yes thats it.
"In the trees, to the bois" said the gantner and papy.
They seemed to remember times past and were happy
to show a new friend the woods of their past,
well I say they were fun we had quite a blast.
Reminiscing about days of yore and past glory,
they told and related quite many a story
of times they had raced in and out of the trees,
with old bikes, no suspension, not to mention with glee.
Of the times in the nettles, crashing and laughing.
To the stream they did fall, with many a splashing.

So now heres the new one who enters the wood.
Good grief, oh good god, I'm not feeling so good.
The wheels of that bike, did not turn as the should.
It felt like my head it was made of some wood.
The braking was wrong, the turning was late.
The gearing was wrong. I was beginning to hate.
Then the sounds started coming. Little oofs, then an eef.
You would think he was tired. I would have to agree.

Oof over rocks, eep around trees.
Ngh under branches. Aagh from bashed knees.
Gaah from the trunk that was laying in front.
Guh for the one. That one wasnt a grunt.
Spuh from the poke in the arm that he got.
From the noise he was making you would think hed been shot.

On it went, out they came, curses spilling in dozens.
My god, wont this end, I'm thinking, it doesnt.

Then the tree that was broken and lying quite low.
Theres a bridge, well sort of, but it looks kind of low.
Well the papy and gantner get on it and cross it.
But the Missile is taller and almost he lost it.
He managed to avoid getting wet on his feet,
but his bike did drag its round ass in the creek
With laughs and with jests and with "missile you oughta,
not be so big, you coulda been shorta."
Now where would I be with short ass and short legs.
Its great to be tall, but sometimes with less
Would be quite convenient, would be sort of fun,
to have legs that are short and not ones that are long.

Well we battled our way over fields and up hills.
You would think that each one of us had taken a pill
as we climbed up that hill where we sort of were lost,
where that lady shouted out "go to hell, go get lost"
Well papy and gantner had seen a huge bowl,
of some sort of a monsterous dog, I am told
and were rushing up hill to get far from that dog,
but the missile saw nothing. His head was in fog.
Put he pedalled and pedalled up the straight hill,
and over the top to the crest and stopped still
for a breather, a breath, a gasp of fresh air.
He really was starting to pull out his hair
cos he's tired so tired, his legs are in mush.
Can somebody please give my body a push ??

Well on to the saleve, cant find the right gear.
All I can think of is having a beer.
And mike is beside me, he's puffing along.
We both are together, we're not feeling strong.

To cut a long story thats long to be short,
I scurried along not enjoying our sport
that we do every tuesday for as long as rememberd.
What a pain to have pain in each of my members.
But I'm part of a club, now I start to remember.
Its still great to be a tuesday club member.

The missile wimps out of the hill at the end.
He just can barely make it around the next bend.
To veyrier onwards we turn at the border.
Missiles wears a sign that says "Legs out of order"
To veyrier, to the parking, to get a swift lift.
I'm buggered ! I'm knackered! I'm shagged, get the drift ?

So the first thing that happens when I get there, the first ,
is something that quenches my very deep thirst
A beer. Yes a beer. A cold one at that.
To you my friend gantner I take off my hat.
A beer. Cold beer. I have been waiting for ever.
I was beginning to think that this time would come never.
A seat and a beer and some wine and great food.
Well, that did great things to improve on my mood.
And with that I say now, that the tuesdays are great.
That tuesdays are wonderful and well worth the wait !

Newbies

Newbies....

Newbies are fun, newbies are great,
but if they're no good, then they're someone we hate.
What does he mean, why does he say it ?
Well listen up folks I'm going to play it.

Some of us travel for miles at a time,
to get there and ride for mile after mile.
We leave work, some early, we leave work, some late,
but the main thing we want is to ride something great.

So if we get newbies, that stink up the place,
we hates them! we hates them! they get in our face.
They arrive with their bikes, city ones, a hardtail.
We know they'll have trouble, we know that they'll fail.
Here they come now, in T Shirts and sneakers,
no clip-ins nor camel backs, oh jeepers, oh creepers.
They'll huff and they'll puff, up the hills.
They are trying, but we could already be going down flying.
We wait and we wait and sometimes we cry,
and curse them with stones. At the air we let fly.
And then when they get to the very tip top,
they want to pull over!! they want to just stop!!
For a breather! How dare they! We want to get on.
Come on you damn newbie, come on now my son.

Now the worst kind of newbies are ones that don't suck:
They happen upon us, just trust our dumb luck.
They get out their bikes that are rusted and worn,
they pull on their shorts, never lycra they've worn
they get on their bikes and they start off to pedal,
and leave us behind on our bikes of light metal.
We struggle there cursing and wheezing and trying,
to catch up to that newbie with legs made of iron.

Now there's newbies and newbies. Now where would we be,
if we didn't know hoekstra or dopey, we say.
Or zulu or goat or jo shaddock or 'zette,
if we didnt know them, well it would not be great.
We love them, we welcome them, with open arms.
We likes them you see, to them we have warmed.

Now newbies are welcome, we like them you see.
Its not that we hate them, though newbies they be.
Our anger and scorn, and our cursing out loud,
should be aimed at the ones who are part of OUR crowd.
You see, these "new" newbies that come for a ride,
have been brought along by the ones that can ride.
The ones that we love and the ones that we know,
have brought them along for a ride to them show.
They bring them along and they force us to note,
that some of them ride, and that some of the don't.

Now by all means we welcome new blood to our team,
but please do make sure that no oldies can scream
"take that newbie, take him back, take him back to his home,
and leave us in peace on our bikes here to roam"
And if you do happen to bring one along ,
who knows how to bike, well that wouldn’t be wrong,
but if you bring one that is more like lead weight,
be sure that you are the one who is going to wait
and ensure that the newbie, whose skills are quite poor,
gets home safe and sound and behind their closed door.
Lock them up quick, do it now, don’t be too kind.
Get irate, keep that newbie away and inside.
Put them in, throw the key, don't bring them to ride.
Bring them no more, to the places we ride.

But if you insist to be bring newbies that can't,
don’t be surprised if we shout, if we rave and we rant.
Dont be sad, dont you cry, you just sit there, don't sigh ,
cos its your fault, you brought him, you wait, whilst we fly.
You brung them. You invited. You asked and they came.
Well you can take care of them, we're not to blame.
We will go riding and leave you behind.
Because we came to ride, not to wait, you will find.

So now that I've ranted and raved and am done,
I feel that maybe you think I'm not fun.
That I don't welcome newbies, that I hates them, their kind.
That they stink, are unfit, and are not humankind.
Well you're wrong. I like newbies. I welcome their race.
But would you ask Schumi to slow down his race ?
Would you ask him to dither and wait and not go,
just because that new newbie was going so slow ?
Now I know we're not racing, but hey, wheres the fun,
on changing our plans because of just one
who doesn't know what he has let himself into,
who thinks that maybe he's got what it takes to.

So summing up now, (this is getting quite long),
dont take this too literally don't think I am wrong.
I am all for those newbies, to come and have fun,
just make sure if you bring them, that they can have some fun.
Ensure that their bikes come with two wheels apiece,
with some rubber still on them and their chains with some grease.
A helmet to cover their poor little heads,
for when they have troubles and go foot over head
by trying to follow the ones that know how,
to go down the hill very fast and not slow.

So bring those newbies along. Bring as many as you like.
But be sure that you look after them well on their bike.

There was once a man named Trois Decis

There was once a man named Trois Decis
Who liked to bike up at Le Crozet
till he took a steep dive
broke his ankle in five
and only returned 3 years later

Trois Decis…response....

Il y a sûrement des vapeurs qui s'échappe de l'usine Novartis et notre ami
le Missile est tout chose.... Ou alors il a dut faire le testeur sur un
nouveau produit et ça lui aura atteint les neurones.

Dans tous les cas, ces jours, il n'arrive plus a écrie un mail
normalement.
De plus sur son bike, dès qu'il a cliqué les pédales il part comme un
furieux et on le revoit plus. Il part niqué les vaches au sommet et quand
on arrive enfin à le rejoindre on le retrouve la haut tout guilleret
...Puis c'est la descente, et la, son regard devient méchant en se fixant
sur la vallée et il repart encore de plus belle en descente comme un
forcené en ricanant. Hééé , Héééé, Héééé

Je me demande si Novartis n'est pas en train de développé des nouveaux
produits pour le Tour De France et ils les testent sur Simon...


missiles further reponse…

they make some strange stuff at Novartis
some stuff that they call Novanabis
its sort of some stuff
if you take just enough
you can ride every day, but dont piss....

'cos if they catch you with some
dont let on what you've done !
"its just sort of some stuff
that I took just like snuff".
You should never have taken that piss!!

To See or Not to See

To See or Not to See

The gods of the Jura looked kindly on 8 brave souls last night.
No rain. No clouds. No freezing cold. Good gravy, holy moly, what a night !

No way, you say...but it was true. The weather it was great.
but missile man was holding up the show so we were a little late,
but not by much, the usual suspects were on time so... great.

So finally at ten past six we set off on our rides
it proved to be a long way up and an extensive night
and so on to the mountain top did 8 brave souls to fight

and on the way we met some others who were just the fools we are
we must have been 'bout twenty fools who would prefer a car
cos in case I didn't I mention it, but that barillette's a fuckAr

some of us were so pumped up they bragged about their balls
"my seats like that, cause they're so big" said one with lots of gall
well, 5 minutes later where the hell were they, those big balls of this big fella?
well I reckon they were never there or at most, just full of air!

With bikes on show, bravado, the only way was up,
into the trees and over stream and always always UP
and as you know that barillette, it is a crazy climb,
it brought some of us to our knees and even made us whine

so with sweat upon our brows and our armpits kind of stinky
we arrived at the top and would have liked to start with something kinky
with the "barmaid of nice breasts" who was looking very slinky!

well that was Claudes idea, and the Missiles, and all others
you can believe that for that idea we were ALL very much brothers

a fondue and some fendant and things were just quite fine
we were quite good, we did not abuse and did not drink much wine
but just imagine if jo 3 decis had been there to shout out 'more' and 'more'
we would have heard that shout of his, three times 'elle est morT'

so after we had ogled, and drunk and ate and laughed
we had to put our clothes back on and hope we wouldnt have
to pick our selves up from the dirt with twigs and dirt and stuff
from having gone head over heels and landed with a 'UFFF'

cos if i didnt mention it, we went back down with lights,
well some of us had lights and some of us had LIGHTS
and some of us just had some stuff that gave off a little beam
of sort of light that was not quite the stuff to make you dream,
well unless of course it makes you dream cos you ran out of luck
because you bashed your brains out cause you forgot to duck
because you had no light, you see and you were one dumb fuck!! (sorry couldnt resist that !!!)

so down we went and in two groups we drifted on and on
as some of us could see quite well and others not so good
but even those that had good lights had lost their sense of how
to ride a bike at night down hill... Well deary "let it flow."

The blinding light of 700 francs was of no help that night
as teeny little beams of light that others had for sight
but I admit it was quite steep and for those that went quite fast
you have to kind of wonder sometimes, exactly how they last
they let go their brakes, and go quite fast, all this to have a blast
its quite a wonder that more often they dont have to wear a cast

well jean mi almost broke his bike and cursed and did his best
to see without a light last night was surely quite a test.
he bashed his bike and brains as well and you can surely see,
that he could not perceive that well, the roots that WE could. See?

his bike it was not working, hmmm, his ride was coming apart
I think quite soon he will go and buy the thing he needs, a part
as well as some doodads that help you see in the dark
cos next time we will leave him in the quiet of a park

as I said, it was dark and quiet and as we rode the night
with dark in the sky, jean mi almost died from fright
as a chamois jumped right out something quite like a shark
as if its butt had been touched hard by a very red hot spark

and on we went, through path and trail and onwards ever down
we ride at night, with or without a light, to never have a frown
and with much jostling and laughing we did come out on the road
and left the woods and trees that night but our minds were still offroad

The balls of that young fella and his yellow shirted friend,
did grow last night and now it may become a trend
because with the tiny lights you see, they only saw a bit,
but managed to keep up with us, the ones that saw well lit

So here ends the tale of 8 brave souls and you may come to see
that if you want to bike at night you should probably be able to see
by having lights that shine, my friends, and not ones that just glow
and so next time you'll be prepared to have another go !

How to Ride in the Jura

How to Ride in the Jura

- you can arrive early, but its MUCH better to arrive late, then everyone can leave at the same time
- you arrive in time with a bike that works so you can leave on time, but hey, wheres the fun in that . you'd be riding alone!
- you can arrive on time & leave early, wonder if you can find the trail head, manage find the trail head and even manage not to get lost (for once), well at least until the return trip
- you can annoy people by endless phone calls as you try to manage 2, then 3 then 4 teams up to the top, then 1,2,3 and finally 4 teams on the way down.(My head is shaking in despair!!)
- you can leave with those that know where they are going or you can arrive late and hope you can find the trail head
- you can find the trail head and hope you know where you are going, but can still get lost when you're 100m from the top
- you can get lost, climb on foot till you are 100m from the top, give up and then ride down and ride back up and eventually get there, but its not much fun
- you can ride at the back with your buddy and use each other for excuses as to why you are at the back
- you can curse all you want on the climb, but it doesnt care, its still there waiting to be climbed
- you can put your foot down on the last 3 bitches (if you're a girlie) or you can even walk (if you're a hairdresser) or you can use your bike, but damn it where the heck IS the fun in doing that?
- you can sweat at the top waiting for all, but you'd rather not
- you can stop in the restaurant for a rum tea, but you should probably be sensible and just have a hot tea, well at least until next time
- you can stay all night looking at the waitresses 00's with eyes as big as 00's, theres LOTS of fun in that - whooee!!
- you can beat Claude down the first part of the hill but beware, he sometimes gets out of control as he tries to reel you in
- you can invite a newbie to join you and laugh as he flies head over heels on his new specialised - ouch
- you can, if you really really want to, but I don't advise it, continue dreaming of the waitresses 00's and runs strauight into a barbe wire fence.
- you can test ride a brand new bike, run it into a barb wire fence, scratch the hell out of the frame and then return it with a sly grin to the owner, saying, sorry, dont like the color.
- you can try keeping up with the missile, but I dont recommend it
- you can take the ladies way down to the left or you can take the steep way down following Mr "Nothings too steep for me" Gantner. Hmmmm.....
- you can ride the descente au loup in the pitch black, but you'd be better doing the route romaine, but if you leave on time you might still have enough light to do the descent a loup - highly recommended
- you can try to get down in one group, but really.......why bother.....its a hopeless task
- you can ride with tubeless tires and hope to not need a tube. You can always hope.
- you can get within 2 km of home and take a left instead of a right and curse the buddies you followed
- you can cleanse your soul with a cool swim when you get back, but hey, better leave early.
- you can finish your ride before 10pm. Hey, we managed at least that (well most of us anyway)
- you can fall off on your own and reveal your battle scars over pasta and wine. ick.

You can do all of the above or you could just go for a ride on your own, on a sunny afternoon, starting when you like, with 4 hours and lots of fresh air ahead of you. But hey, who would want to do that when you can do all of the above with your friends !!

Till next time

The Missile

..of roots and roads..

..of roots and roads..
...hmmm, not too much enthusiasm portrayed by genevas citizens for last nights ride...a gloomy saleve and the promise of rain seemed to have doused the spirits of a number of people.......it certainly made for an uneventful ride across quai des bergues...where are all the pretty girls in short skirts...boring!!!....arrival at jean-mis place revealed 'papy' ready to rock with 'the bike', 'slicks' and 'shaddock II' also (almost) ready to roll......the bois de jussy haven’t changed much...yeah I know where we are, we're back at the junction, next to the trees, with the hole and the ditch and the fast bit followed by a corner.....yeah RIGHT, I knew EXACTLY where I was...the ride revealed that Shaddock II has some mighty fine calfs, rivalling (well almost...lets be serious here) jean-mi's...impressive none-the-less...Jean-Mi must have spent his entire 2200km of last year riding in the bois de jussy, beacuse, in case I didn't mention it...its DAMNED IMPOSSIBLE to know where you are in that place, or even which way you are going!!...so bois de jussy may be flat but it isnt smooth...joests bike (thanks joest...but you need to do a tad of maintenance cos I found it hard to find 6'th gear) was in for quite some shaking and with the bursts of accelaration from Jean-Mi well, it was anything but boring...but we must be getting 'wiser', as it took a little while for the sprint maniacs to surface....I'll let you guess who was the sprint champion...NO geled its not you, although you finally did get your finger out of your arse at the end...shaddock II ... well I guess we'ell see what kind of a sprinter he is next time...I thought hardtails were supposed to be good for that...and well jean-mi, better luck next time...just one word to you: 'draughting' to use a Nascar expression...so a few slips, flips, knee in the handlebar, slides, oufs and 'damned &%*çing roots' later we are faced with the mini mountain...you know..... the one after the ditch...... through the trees....... down to the right...... round the corner to the left and then UUUUUUUPPPP. Well jean-mi failed miserably...loser...and ahem...so did the missile ....ack...can you say 'bounce left, bounce right and splat'??...a few sprints later....some people did cheat on the way home...and back finally to "the bikes" place for a glass of water and a slice of bread...thanks lisa...and then off through the twisty turns of vandoevres and still no 'pretty young thangs' on the pont du mont blanc...all that and in bed by 11:15pm...