Bikepacking, Fat Bikes, Poems

In Celebration of Fords

It was but the first month of the year
As I gathered together my bikepacking gear.
Wales in January; it would probably be raining,
But no matter, for this was really for training.
In preparation for Finland I go,
To a land bleak and white and covered in snow.

The Bear Bones Ford Fiesta is that which beckoned;
No finer celebration of fords could be reckoned.
Out from the start, my route headed west,
Riding into the wind was really a test.
Onto Glyndwr’s Way, where new trails await;
Progress would be easier if the wind would abate.


Over hill and through forest I travelled,
as my winding route gradually unravelled.
Beneath my tyres the trails lay soggy,
and at times things got really quite boggy.
No doubt, this was becoming an interesting ride;
And with the wind, well, there was nowhere to hide.

Past Glaslyn now, with the sun starting to set,
I wondered how far through my route I would get.
Around Nant-y-moch, the darkness finally came,
So I switched on my light to continue the game.
With clear sky above me and stars shining bright,
I pedalled on hard into the night.


With darkness around me, at the bothy I arrived,
Six fords I had crossed; I’m glad I’d survived.
The bothy was full; nearly bursting its seams,
a dozen other riders sheltered under its beams.
With banter in full flow, and log fire ablaze,
I stumbled inside in a bit of a daze.

My stove was lit and soon water was boiling;
Warm food inside me; reward for my toiling.
Tales were told, some of them risky,
as we laughed into the night and passed round the whisky.
The evening wore on; time for bed finally came.
But who’d arise a champion in the snoring game?

In no time at all, Sunday dawned anew;
The snoring competition was won by Chew.
After a a healthy serving of porridge consumed;
Another day of riding ready to be resumed.
The return home; finally the wind on my back
An easier days riding on forest dirt track.


Forty miles later, with three more fords completed,
I arrive back at base; my legs now depleted.
Cold and wet and covered in mud,
I’d successfully survived through many a flood.
Into the warmth for tea, cake and toast
Other riders there too; of great adventures we boast.

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