[Thanksgiving Weekend on the River Kern: A Trikes and Recumbents Optional Tour]

This piece has an unusual, but hopefully interesting background. Deena [aka Doberpug on BROL's Trike Forum] is, along with Stephen [aka Munster], one half of one of my very favorite six-wheeled couples. They're the people who originally perpetrated the plan for our local laidback cycling gang (Ventura County Recumbent Riders) to spend part of Thanksgiving weekend riding the Kern River Trail near Bakersfield CA. On Friday night, she posted a comment to the ongoing thread on the forum about the 2013 version of that ride, happy that no one had a flat tire. A little later, we noticed exactly how close we had actually come to having a fairly dramatic flat tire experience. Deena occasionally expounds an explicit expression for excursions such as this:

The trip isn't over until the laundry's all done.

After this year's TWeRKy TROT, she sent me a rhyming email with the basics of the following ditty; I couldn't resist fluffing it up a bit.


The RV's unpacked; all the laundry is done.
The trikes are put up... but the dogs need a run.

The prep work, the drive and the cleanup as well,
Won't color the tales of adventures we'll tell,
Of riding long miles on smooth trails with good friends
In cool Autumn sunlight. High clouds and soft winds –
Instead of cold rain like the previous night –
Made riding on Friday a special delight.

We rode to the east and encountered some climbs
Which, riding back home, made for really fun times,
With Stephen insisting that no one should brake
While zooming downhill, like his honor's at stake.
We wound up with lunch at the Golden Corral,
Which boosted our waist size as well as morale.

But then, feeling mellow, the sun going down,
A small glitch appeared that made everyone frown:
A finger-sized bare spot on Stephen's front tire.
Since new ones that size would be hard to acquire,
He used Liquid Tape, first three coats and then five,
And fervently hoped that his tire would survive.

The Saturday venue, downriver, is flat;
Not shockingly, nobody seemed to mind that.
The group stayed together, not going real fast,
Just cruising and chatting as scenery passed.
The numbers on mileposts declined, going west,
Until one said "END"; no one voiced a protest.

That end of the Kern River Trail was preferred
To Old Alfred Harrel's, for this, in a word:
A POTTY – not plumbed, but a welcome relief.
This trail's pretty nice, but I do have a beef:
Call boxes and benches, about one per mile?
I'm betting that bathrooms would make more folks smile.

We stopped at Panera for lunch. As we sat,
We saw Stephen grinning; his tire wasn't flat.
The coating he'd used hardly showed any wear,
But it was surprising to hear him declare,
"I'm going to put this on all of my tires."
Someday, I suppose, we'll see how that transpires.

But now the big question's: (not WHETHER, but) WHEN
Will we get together and ride here again?

FWIW, I should maybe mention the word that both Deena and Stephen have used to classify this kinda casual category of comedic composition. Their lifestyle includes sharing their homes – both the permanent type and the RV – with six canines, so "doggerel" must be a good thing... right?

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Last updated 12/7/2013