2Wheeltips

PrayasIride wrote another great poem!
And just like his others, he drove his point home!
His comments regarding the BRC class...
Wondering to yourself, "Will I fail or pass?",
Made me think about when I took the BRC, too,
It wasn't something I was sure I could do…
But practice makes perfect, as it has been said
We need to learn focus and good habits embed
Instructors are great just to give us that start
But the rest is just practice and that is OUR part!!

Mental toughness what is that,
It is the moment that your butt sat;
You raise up your legs and saddle you did do,
Mentally in your mind, a motorcycle you rode too;
You heard the fears, from the voice of others,
All said you were getting yourself into trouble;
Some called you a fool, and said you were crazy,
But none of them thought it was amazing;
Off to the MSF course there you went,
Shaking like a leaf, and grinning like a mint;
Felt the heart letting you know it was there,
Felt your soul, say to you I dare;
Dare what is what you asked,
Are you saying I shouldn't stand up to the task?
The soul kept silent and did not speak a word,
Because it wanted you to get in touch with what you just heard;
The mind of yours began to wonder too,
If this is something that you must do;
You observed the class a varity of people you did see,
The old, the young, and folks just like me;
Here comes the instructor, with a great big smile,
He told everyone to learn to ride a bike will take a while;
Practice, practice, practice, practice he said over and over again,
He made me feel like I could do it, if I gave it a chance;
There was a time, when I wanted to walk out of the class,
When I heard about the accidents that took place in the year past;
The Hurt Report, I think it is what he said,
It talked about what caused a lot of bikers to become dead;
What the instructor highlighted from the report was not little,
A new way of learning to ride safe to keep you out of the hospital;
It was at that moment that my mind made a switch,
It got real tough, and I said to myself, "I am not going to quit."

I read the words of a friend of mine,
she comment on my writing all the time;
Ride and write she said you can't do,
hold up your bike, while writing to you;
This became a real challenge to me,
to check it out to see if it could be;
I got up early this morning and took a ride,
pen in my hand and paper at my side;
Which road to I take, I asked myself,
Before I knew it, I had to catch my breath;
I felt like I was over my head,
being a fool will cause me to be dead;
How do I do this and keep it safe,
without the bike getting out of place;
I found myself a parking lot,
It was there I discovered, I could give it a shot;
Left hand on the handle as I ride,
Watching my lane and putting paper on the glide;
I clipped it to my windshield traveling bag,
there it was in place, and I felt glad;
I reached for my pen which was near my chest,
stuck in my riding jacket, and I made a good guess;
What do I write, I asked myself,
Just when I looked up, I was facing an elk;
Where in the world did that come from I looked twice,
 It was an elk picture on the bill board with written advice;
A quick U-turn, I had to make,
or crash the bike into the fence gate;
I turned it around and a poem came to my mind,
and these are the words, I wrote within a grace of time;
Before I can tell you what I wrote,
I must tell you, I almost dropped my pen and its no joke;
The quick U-turn that I made,
I heard the pegs scraping, and then I prayed;
"Pray as I ride" is what I wrote,
Riding and writing is no joke.
Trust me it can be done,
But doing it while making a U-turn is not fun;
What did I write, that rhymed with "ride",
It was, "Lord keep me alive."

What is the Love is the question that we ask,
it cause us to behave as if we are being cast;
There is a part that we must play,
especially if you are going to ride your bike today;
You look outside and clouds you do see,
rain gear in hand thinking it won't rain on me;
No saddle bags for this ride today,
I want to look cool while riding anyway;
So my rain gear I do not take with me as I go,
Mounting my bike and riding slow;
Up at the clouds, I am always looking,
wondering in my mind, do I need to start booking;
Booking where is what I ask myself,
do I go back home or just be aware;
The ride feels good and the wind is in my face,
I can just keep riding all over the place;
I feel a few drops touching my face,
but it does not hurt as I set my pace;
Soaking and wet is what I feel,
but my riding spirit it did not kill;
I got in the zone and there I stayed,
 I even kept giving the biker's wave;
I passed many who rain gear they wore,
 it made me want to stop at the biker's store;
I asked myself a question or two,
what will a real 2wheeltips biker do;
What is the difference between taking a shower or riding in the rain,
one is pleasure and the other one is pain;
I then realized, I had gotten out of the zone,
my mind was thinking about going home;
I challenged myself over and over again,
mind over matter and keep a strong will if you can;
Get in the zone you aren't doing anything wrong,
Get in the zone and it will take the chill from your bones;
Get in the zone and become one with nature,
Get in the zone and this ride will make ya;
It will make you do what, is what I wanted to know too,
It will make you love what you do.

I have read the book,
which got me hooked;
It told of stories and places to ride,
but I found that much of it was jive;
On the road and away I went,
butt in the saddle making a dent;
I moved it around and squeezed it too,
however it was still in pain, and I didn't know what to do;
Every 100 miles, I would take a rest,
felt it was the best thing for my butt I guess;
The question in your mind is always there,
my butt is asking me do I really care;
I see other riders waving with a grin,
as if their butt is sitting on a pin;
Hard riders, soft riders and tough ones too,
butts gets numb and they don't know what to do;
Some keep riding and some seem to stop,
Some buy new seats with gel in a certain spot;
It makes you wonder why we do it so,
When your butt is saying stop, but your mind is saying go;
Which one are we going to trust,
To ride a bike you must be mentally tough.

There are times when we open our mouth,
and all the scent in it comes out;
It depends upon the type of bike you ride,
whether your breath is one that gives you pride;
Now I know what you are thinking,
Is it the bike that I ride make it stinking;
When I say bike I am not talking about brand,
But that which you keep behind your underpants.
Please don't get upset and rude with me,
I am just trying to help you just to see;
See what is what I can hear you say,
 It is what you friends have been trying to tell you all day;
When ride 600 miles a day, and in the saddle you do sit,
Please don't take pride and not stopping for a quick;
Ahh be brave and say what's on your mind,
Do not chicken out and cut your words short,
2wheeltip will not take you to biker's court;
What was it you were going to say that rhymn with sit,
but you did not have the nerves, so you use the word quick;
I really am trying to keep it clean, I really did not want to be mean;
I know you love not to change clothes,
or take a bath when on a roll;
You try to see how far you can ride, and how many days as well,
and you forget that your body begins to smell;
You love to stand close in the face of others,
and open your mouth and we smell trouble;
Because you are really kind,
We do not tell you what's really on our mind.
That is why you keep asking yourself,
IS IT JUST ME OR IS IT MY BIKER'S BREATH?

It is a choice that I have made,
to be sure that others are paid;
I see the gear and I hear the rap,
It makes my head hurt and I want to take a nap;
How much is it going to cost me today,
to ride with the big boys and play it safe;
Helmet on my head,
Chaps around my leg;
Glasses covering my eyes,
Armor covering my thighs;
Jacket wrapped around upper body,
and gloves covering my hand,
 And I am riding around looking
like the wrapped up mummy man.
My colors are black and drawing in the heat,
But the gear is so safe, it is a must to keep;
Boots on my feet feeling real tight,
squeezing my toes with all its might;
Down the road, I must go
Dressed like a mummy ready for a show;
I see my friends checking me out,
Scratching their heads with a sign of doubt;
They are wondering what's wrong with me,
That I am riding around looking like a biker's mummy.

It has taken me some time to pick up the pen,
and attempt to write something that is not only for men;
riding a bike is a universal divider,
that it is much like that of the soul of a scuba diver.
It is something that a lot of people want to do;
but afraid to try it because other people say, “It is not for you.”
Sure there are lots of deaths,
where divers did not have air to take their last breath.
Jumping in deep and going down below,
is like a rider mounting their bike ready to go.
Riding gear and Scuba gear is a personal choice that must be made,
and can cost you a lot of money and somebody wants to be paid;
Before you ride a bike they call it the T-clock,
before you scuba dive you need your sun block.
Check your air, your hoses, and gages as well,
to run out of air 90 feet below is asking for hell.
A diver must dive with a buddy plan,
and a rider must avoid the slippery sand.
There is such a thing as being in the zone,
but when you scuba dive you don’t want to be in it alone;
There is such a thing as a biker’s wave,
but for the diver it’s a sign that a shark is in the cave.
The old the young they all have fun,
especially when they are going on a biker’s run;
The old the young they all have fun,
especially when the dive just begun.