The Road to Montgomery
The temperature cut like a knife
Hope Valley a source of great strife
There’s an old truthful lie,
But to my searching eye,
In Hope there was no sign of life.
Though the hills were all shrouded in mist
The Ridgeway could not have been missed
We got to the top
And had a short stop
For someone’s chain had gone on the twist.
We rifled along to the border
In our usual state of disorder
The roadworks we braved
For the caffeine we craved
Would Kerry Vineyard be open to order?
We soon found out that it would
And as I surveyed all the food
My heart gave a start
For a Portuguese tart
A bit of that would surely be good!
Not much else to report, truth be told
Refuelled we set off quite bold
Mid-day sun in Montgomery
But still no more summery
We all continued complaining of cold.
The return leg was mercifully flat
A gentle tailwind was welcome at that
Two groups racing back,
Soon splintered and cracked,
Got home safely in spite of all that.