Re: [RBW] Re: Just Ride: wee dram optional

[Patrick Moore]

https://www.theguardian.com/books/booksblog/2011/jun/13/poem-week-g-k-chesterton

On Mon, Feb 17, 2020 at 12:02 AM Philip Williamson <
philip.william...@gmail.com> wrote:

> “Bannockburn by way of Brighton Beach” is dead funny, and euphonious. And
> dark, considering Bannockburn’s place in history, which sets up the last
> verse pretty well.
>
> The rest of it I’ll have to google.
>
> Philip
> Santa Rosa, CA
>
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-- 

---
Patrick Moore
Alburquerque, Nuevo Mexico, Etats Unis d'Amerique, Orbis Terrarum

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Re: [RBW] Re: Just Ride: wee dram optional

[Philip Williamson]

“Bannockburn by way of Brighton Beach” is dead funny, and euphonious. And dark, 
considering Bannockburn’s place in history, which sets up the last verse pretty 
well. 

The rest of it I’ll have to google.

Philip
Santa Rosa, CA 

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Re: [RBW] Re: Just Ride: wee dram optional

[Patrick Moore]

One of your best stories yet. I'm sorry you have no photos.

To celebrate the anecdote, here is a poem first publishe din 1913 under the
title "A Song Of Temperance Reform."

The Rolling English Road
By G. K. Chesterton 
Before the Roman came to Rye or out to Severn strode,
The rolling English drunkard made the rolling English road.
A reeling road, a rolling road, that rambles round the shire,
And after him the parson ran, the sexton and the squire;
A merry road, a mazy road, and such as we did tread
The night we went to Birmingham by way of Beachy Head.

I knew no harm of Bonaparte and plenty of the Squire,
And for to fight the Frenchman I did not much desire;
But I did bash their baggonets because they came arrayed
To straighten out the crooked road an English drunkard made,
Where you and I went down the lane with ale-mugs in our hands,
The night we went to Glastonbury by way of Goodwin Sands.

His sins they were forgiven him; or why do flowers run
Behind him; and the hedges all strengthening in the sun?
The wild thing went from left to right and knew not which was which,
But the wild rose was above him when they found him in the ditch.
God pardon us, nor harden us; we did not see so clear
The night we went to Bannockburn by way of Brighton Pier.

My friends, we will not go again or ape an ancient rage,
Or stretch the folly of our youth to be the shame of age,
But walk with clearer eyes and ears this path that wandereth,
And see undrugged in evening light the decent inn of death;
For there is good news yet to hear and fine things to be seen,
Before we go to Paradise by way of Kensal Green.

On Sun, Feb 16, 2020 at 2:26 PM 'Deacon Patrick' via RBW Owners Bunch <
rbw-owners-bunch@googlegroups.com> wrote:

> In 2000, me wifie and cousin and I did a hired bike tour of the best
> whisky in the world. Three miles, three distilleries. Grin. The winding
> costal road got straighter with each stop. Grin. Then we discovered that
> our bnb was the other side of the island instead of just three miles on.
> Whooof.  My bike had no tools, but the handlebars came loose in the
> headset. Bashed it back into place with a bit borrowed from one of those
> drystone walls you can see there. Jacobs sheep laughing at me through the
> whisky mist. The roads that go inland are straight, which seems mighty
> curvy after three distilleries of tasting. Grin. Scotland redefines
> headwinds. Islay redefines them yet again. Ain't nuffin' slowing them down
> from gaining speed across the Atlantic. Then they hit me and I slowed down.
> A lot. Grin.
>
> With abandon,
> Patrick
>
> On Sunday, February 16, 2020 at 10:03:29 AM UTC-7, David Carner wrote:
>>
>>
>> https://www.theguardian.com/environment/bike-blog/2017/aug/17/hardcore-cycling-in-almost-guaranteed-rain-scotlands-no-frills-anti-sportive
>>
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> 
> .
>


-- 

---
Patrick Moore
Alburquerque, Nuevo Mexico, Etats Unis d'Amerique, Orbis Terrarum

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[RBW] Re: Just Ride: wee dram optional

['Deacon Patrick' via RBW Owners Bunch]

In 2000, me wifie and cousin and I did a hired bike tour of the best whisky 
in the world. Three miles, three distilleries. Grin. The winding costal 
road got straighter with each stop. Grin. Then we discovered that our bnb 
was the other side of the island instead of just three miles on. 
Whooof.  My bike had no tools, but the handlebars came loose in the 
headset. Bashed it back into place with a bit borrowed from one of those 
drystone walls you can see there. Jacobs sheep laughing at me through the 
whisky mist. The roads that go inland are straight, which seems mighty 
curvy after three distilleries of tasting. Grin. Scotland redefines 
headwinds. Islay redefines them yet again. Ain't nuffin' slowing them down 
from gaining speed across the Atlantic. Then they hit me and I slowed down. 
A lot. Grin.

With abandon,
Patrick

On Sunday, February 16, 2020 at 10:03:29 AM UTC-7, David Carner wrote:
>
>
> https://www.theguardian.com/environment/bike-blog/2017/aug/17/hardcore-cycling-in-almost-guaranteed-rain-scotlands-no-frills-anti-sportive
>

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