The Grand Tour: Fife and Beyond

Ramblings of an inveterate cyclist

 I bought myself a Brooks saddle,

For Brooks they are the best,

I was told this by a man with,

RETRO emblazon on his vest,

He said it I oil it and beat it like a drum,

It will become, well, as soft as a babies bum,

So I beat it and oiled it,

Until it was dark o’clock,

But alas my beautiful Brooks saddle,

Still feels more like a rock.

When I acquired my ‘New to Me’ bike at the start of lock-down, it was four years old but had never been ridden, so the Brooks saddle was new. I have a very comfortable saddle on my tricycle but thought I would leave it there and bed in the new one. When I returned from my trip along the Forth and Clyde canal I noticed the surface was starting to break up, so contacted Amazon (who else) for a tin of Brooks saddle oil. Which in turn inspired yet another silly wee poem.

I have been spending a lot of time in front of my computer, thankfully I have finished the draft for the story and happy with it just to do the difficult bit for me – re-read and correct spelling and grammar mistakes – sadly I never did find out what Grammar Are.

Tomorrow I have made up my mind to cycle over to Dundee, it has been a while. alas the shuttle bus does not take bicycles, so no breakdown service available, better take some spares.

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