(to the tune of “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” by Gordon Lightfoot)
The legend lives on from the first Pedalers on down
Of the spring cycling weekend we call “Lewes”
Not “Loose” or “Louies”, but Lew-is.. it is
Otherwise, the locals give you a frown.
With a group of seventy-four, hosts Lorraine and Cindy wanted more
Because the Beacon Motel was still filling
And everyone knew that more than just a few
Would brave the April winds unfurling.
The weekend is the pride of the Potomac Pedalers Cycling Club rides.
The welcome letters says there have been as many as twenty-two, other say as many as thirty.
Whatever the count, one thing is true,
The alumni like to drink and get flirty.
The weather on Friday took a turn for the worse when the skies opened up at two o’clock.
The rain came down canceling Fred’s and Barry’s rides,
Navigating the downpour would have rendered us focked.
At four the sun began to shine, we took that as a good sign
Until the winds of April came slashin’
When Saturday morning arrived, they predicted gale force
Should we delay, leave later and still risk crashin’?
Barry Taylor’s ride left for Oak Orchard as scheduled and
Cindy Marisch’s ride left for Prime Hook on time.
The winds were unrelenting but seemed easier than finding words to make this poem rhyme.
Some riders baled, others persevered, some ditched their bikes and opted for yoga with Lorraine
She might have given guidance on pranayama as she gave her asana that took away the pain
Either way, everyone was ready for the BYOB cocktail reception
As it was time to relax and celebrate with other cycling friends
Who shared their year, month, and days of cycling adventures without exception.
When suppertime came, the cyclists headed downtown for dinner at the Blue Sea café.
The cook came out and greeted the line, feeling confident the food was just fine.
At seven pm, the sternos went out under the empty trays along the once plentiful buffet.
Does anyone know what could be more appealing than a scenic Sunday ride to Rehoboth beach?
The day dawned sunny and calm, at least 35 cyclists signed up to ride,
And it sure beats sitting in a pew listening to someone preach.
Along azalea-lined streets bordered by tall pines, Fred was out front a leadin’,
Out via the Junction and Breakwater Trail, back by Gordon’s Pond, and a new trail that ends at the
Beacon.
The legend lives on of the cycling event we Pedalers call the Lewes weekend.
The wind may slow us down and the rain may weaken
But nothing will stop us from drinkin’ and eatin’!
