“Riding a bike, in snow, in the middle of winter? Are you nuts? No, thank you very much! (Picks a bike and goes for a ride).” Gun Roswell

Early morning
The nature scorning
Snow and hail pouring

What to do
Cannot loose
The time, need to choose

Digging deep into the pile of snow
With a shower and a brush in tow
Trying to find my salvation, going slow

Finally, reaching it
This is where it hid
Under layers of white powder, shit

Finally brushed and dusted
The ride from last year a little rusted
But still working, well maybe, a little busted

The pedals and saddle
Not up to par, I ride gently
At first, then speed, well tentatively

Up the snowy hill I push
Against the wind’s gush
I know I need to rush

Down the hill seems easy
But I am feeling queasy
After all the effort, I need some cool breezes

The goal so close I can taste it
I am pushing my poor bike to hit
That personal mark, I can win this

Oh, it wasn’t a competition per say
Just a raise against the elements and time on the way
But now I am here and willing to stay

Got my survival kit
My face is lit
And I have won, winter: eat it!