The Last Day of Mountain Biking, a poem – by Mathias

Today we woke to the sound of rain
We broke our bread, and said good bye
To the folk of the Tsáchilas, as soon as we came
We left, our last glimpse was their hair, red with dye
IMG_4453We biked and biked
30 miles if I remember
We finished, stricken and striker
By the rain, and soaked
But we were all contenders

Waiting at a gas station, waging war with our lunch
We got a call, the bus was stuck
What were we to do, in a bit of a crunch
Then the bus got out, what a stroke of luck
There we were waiting,
The bus on its way
To pick us up on the way to the beach an air of impatience we were creating
Hoping, and thinking of what lay in wait – the bay!

We got there dazed and confused
Really tired and, so to speak, out of gas
Diner we ate quick, practically infused
Today, the last ride in Ecuador was hard, filled with fun and sas

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