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Sorry this post really isn’t a biking story, but it could be. I got to thinking the other day how cool it is that our sport allows us to see and enjoy beauty that others may never see with their own eyes. I then started thinking about the many beautiful mountain tops that I “almost” never got to see because I “almost” turned around before I got to them. Many times, the effort required seemed unbearable at the time. It was during these times that good friends and good riding buddies came in handy. I have finished countless rides that I may have otherwise not finished, simply because I have always been blessed with good riding buddies. I’m sure that I’m not the only guy out there with great riding partners, so to honor them all, I have penned the words to “The Pathway Hard”.
THE PATHWAY HARD by Conman
The trail was steep, terrain was rough;
I glanced upward, ‘twas more the same.
My inner core, had suffered enough;
I turned and gazed; from whence we came.
The pathway back, swift and downhill;
Enticed my soul, my strength long spent.
“My friend”, I called, “I’ve lost my will;
Where I now stand, I am content.”
He answered back, voice firm and sound;
Spoke of God’s beauty, meadows to explore.
Within his words; some strength I found;
And continued up, the trail once more.
Yet oft I stopped, to disagree;
My muscles weak, my spirit charred.
My friend would stop, take rest with me;
And helped me climb, The Pathway Hard.
When at last, God’s meadows neared;
Its beauty unspoiled; atop the steep ascent.
I then understood, what he had feared;
Had I turned back, when once content.
Perhaps good friend, there will come a day;
When life seems heavy, and resolve is frail.
That I might help you, on your way;
Just as you pulled, me up the trail.
For those who climb, will understand;
That suffering’s part, of the reward.
The journey’s hard, but much more grand;
When each has climbed, The Pathway Hard.
I then made the mistake of letting my wife read the poem. She knows me all too well, and knows my riding buddies too. She called me on it, so I had to come up with the “Real” version….
THE PATHWAY HARD by Conman (The Real Version)
The trail was steep, terrain was rough;
I glanced upward, ‘twas more the same.
My inner core, had suffered enough;
I turned and gazed; from whence we came.
The pathway back was downhill which,
Enticed my soul, altered my view.
“My friend”, I called, “You son of a bitch!",
"'Tis the last time that, I ride with you!"
He answered back, voice firm and sound;
Called me a "wussy", he attacked my skill.
Reluctantly, some strength I found;
And followed that bastard, up the hill.
Yet oft I stopped, to disagree;
My muscles weak, my spirit charred.
My friend would stop, and laugh at me;
As we continued up, The Pathway Hard.
When at last, God’s meadows neared;
Its beauty unspoiled; atop the steep ascent.
I leaned to grab, his mangy beard;
And shake him 'till, I was content.
Perhaps good friend, there will come a day;
When life seems heavy, and resolve is frail.
That I might mock you just the way;
You mocked me up; that friggin' trail.
For those who climb, will understand;
Watching others suffer, is the real reward.
The journey’s hard, but much more grand;
When fat guys climb, The Pathway Hard.
Sorry for the long post, thanks for hanging in there. - Conman
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