I love this tadpole trike that I'm aboard;
It feels like something missing is restored.
Out front my feet are stroking to and fro.
I'm leaning back and seated very low,
A grip and lever nestled in each glove;
A brightly colored spinner twirls above.

No training goals to satisfy today –
No destination beckons far away.
I'll probably just buzz off to the beach,
Or some last minute place within my reach.
I have a few short hours now to ride,
And there's a small café I haven't tried.

Some weeks it seems there's barely time enough
For family and work and life; it's tough
To fit a ride into a busy day,
To make the time for something more like play,
Than all the other things I have to do...
But hey, I guess I have to stay sane, too.

And so for now I'm turning off the world,
I'm taking off, with safety flag unfurled.
I'm taking time to log a few more miles.
I'll cruise the coast and look out at the isles,
Zip down a hill with something like a swoop,
Or push myself to ride my practice loop.

On days ahead when other duties press,
I know my riding urges I'll suppress.
But here and now, at last I have some time,
And I'll remember how it feels – sublime –
To ride my trike off down a strange new track,
To feel this satisfaction – Yes, I'M BACK!

But all too soon it seems, my ride must end;
There are some things to which I must attend.
And so, I head for home and tuck it in,
Still thrilled with what a pleasure it has been
To be out on the road again today.
It's sad at last to put my trike away.

I square my shoulders, then thrust out my chest,
Inhale real deep, and do my very best
To emulate my Governor – or try,
Firm jawed and stoic, head held proud and high.
A pair of dark sunglasses hide my eyes,
As Arnold's famous line I now reprise:

I tell my patient trike there in its rack,
[With thick Teutonic accent] "I'LL BE BACK!"

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