Bicycling Contest
 Thanks
to everyone who participated in the 2007
511 Bicycling Poetry Contest. Congratulations to the six winning entrants!
They won a bicycle from Mikes Bikes! Below are the winning
entries.
RIGHT OF WAY
I am gliding on my bike,
my helmet is hanging from
my handlebars,
the wind speeds through my hair,
my finger is poised above the bell
and
I don't want to stop.
I want this hill to go forever
downward;
I want the lights to remain an
evergreen;
I want those cars and people to
give way
to my inertia.
I don't want to stop.
I would coast forever
if I had my way,
past giant buildings,
old houses,
children waving by the side of the road,
past traffic,
past box stores,
out into the country,
along the coast,
small towns and large, and
look, I am back where I started, because
I don't want to stop
I would coast forever.
But I do stop. I brake and come to a halt,
bring a foot back to the ground,
lean on my handlebars,
and let you pass on
your way.
— Adrian Cotter
My Friend, My Bike
When I was a lad, I got myself a bike,
I rode it to school,
I rode it where I like.
It gave me my freedom, it let me explore,
There was always
adventure when I went out the door.
I rode in circles at the vacant dirt lot,
Along bike paths
and trails all the way to Fremont.
Over bridges, through tunnels, on the sand at the beach,
On
my bike there was no place I could not pedal to reach.
I got a little older, I wanted something more,A bike with
some gears, a bike with some speed.
Grandpa & Grandma
were thoughtful and kind,
“A steel framed Schwin, that’s what you need”.
Now that was a bike! I needed a goal,
A challenging
ride to take my new wheels for a roll.
Awake early before school, up Centennial I’ll climb!
Boy
it was steep, only made it halfway that first time.
I came back again the very next day,
To the top I did make
it, hip-hip-hooray!
My legs were so tired, I thought they were dead,
The very
next morning I slept in my bed.
It’s adventures like this I remember so well,
And
rides with my friends, boy those were swell.
I’ve had shivers and shakes, a failure or few,
Though
I’ve finished a century. No, make that
two.
As I get older, my obligations arise,
I don’t ride
like did, to my sad demise.
But during the summer on a warm day,
I want to go ride,
there must be a way.
I hear my bike calling, what does it say?
“Tunnel Road beckons, come ride me today”.
And for an hour or two I’ll feel the wind on my
face,
My legs bear the strain of my not-so-blistering pace.
I get home exhausted, yet ready for more,
A smile on my
face as we come in the door.
— Bob McClain
My
name is Mike
and on a sunny California day there is nothing better
than to jump on your bike
but before you go check 511 to
find the best path for your trike
— Michael Lehane
Oh, the Perfect Machine
My bicycle has given me so much inspiration
Oh, the perfect
machine, she is
The whole is far greater than the sum of her
parts
My bicycle . . .
Challenging friction as she follows Newton’s
laws
“An object in motion will stay in motion . . .”
I
glide over gravel and tar, cement and tree roots,
Through
air molecules and water vapor
Slowing only minimally, she
could spin forever
Pressure equals pounds per square inch,I balance on six
points, my pelvis and tarsals
As she balances on but two points
Tires inflated to 26 psi
My legs fuel her movement
Through gears and cogs, links
and lubrication
Mechanical advantage is gained and calculated
Only lactic
acid-producing fermentation will slow
The purr of her spinning
As I ride, I breathe in O two
and breath out CO two
Respiration requires sugar intake and
cellular reactions
Calories are burned, but mass is conserved
Blood cells bring
materials back and forth
As my heart and legs pump, pushing
and pulling
There is no better machine than my bicycle
No better vehicle
to travel this earth
She leaves no footprint
She is greater than the sum of her
parts
— Bonnie Daley
My Bicycle, My Journey
If I could,
I’d ride in the city,
I’d ride by the ocean,
I’d ride to my home.
My bicycle takes me everywhere,
Takes me through time,
Takes me to my home.
My bicycle takes me everywhere,
Takes me on a journey,
Takes me to my home.
It has fancy spokes and tires too.
Handlebars to die for,
and a cozy seat for 2.
It has a little bell, ring ring a ling!
Rides like a dream,
ring ring a ling.
My bicycle takes me everywhere,
Takes me through time,
Takes me to my home.
My bicycle takes me everywhere,
Takes me on a journey,
Takes me to my home.
— Mandy Cotta
Morning Bike Commute
Dawn and the smell of coffee brewing
downstairs.
She rubs sleep from sleepy eyes,
gathers gear--pack, helmet, mug--
and departs, wheels breaking the suburban silence.
Over the freeway, past the cars,
the long line of cars stuck in traffic,
and onto the bike path, amidst ducks and kids,
dogs and joggers. Bright sunshine, cool breeze.
CalTrain station in sight, bells and lights,
arms down, blocking the road. She's late, again.
Horn blast and the iron horse lurches forward,
giving her a few extra minutes before the next train.
Two quarters for the daily fishwrap, please,
she greets a fellow regular.
Nice day, he says. Sure is, she says.
And they board the train, smiling, shuffling bicycles.
—
Rich Schwerin
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