Twas’ the Night Before Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the wood,

Not a bike could be be found, which was not understood,

The stockings were hung by the bike rack with care,

In hopes that new bike gear would soon be there,

Little shredder’s were cuddled, all snug in their beds,

While visions of sick drops n’ gnar gnar trails danced in their heads,

And mama on her new wheels, and I about to guide,

Had just head out, for a long winter’s ride,

When out in the wood there arose such a clatter,

I sprang on my bike to see what the matter,

Away from the sound I rode like a flash,

Tore up the sick features and threw down a mad dash,

The moon on the mountain and the fresh fallen snow,

Made me stop and think, how epic, this is like ‘whoaaa’,

When, what to my curious eyes should appear,

But a miniature e-bike and eight tiny reindeer,

With a little ol’ rider, all decked to the nines,

Santa, I said, my don’t you look fine,

Quicker than a fox that ebike did go,

And he whistled, and shouted to the lil’ reindeer out in the snow,

Now grarly! now rampage! now epic! and shredder

On fast feet, on dropper, on racer and redder,

To the edge of the wood, to the end of it all,

Pull this little e-bike, and fast, but don’t let it fall

As dry leaves fill the trail and snow begins to fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, just hold the handles, balance and try,

So up to the house top that e-bike it flew,

With surprisingly enough horsepower to pull all those toys and fat old Santa too

And then with a peddle, I heard on the roof,

The soft chug of that e-motor and a lil’ reindeer hoof,

As I got off my bike, and was turning around

Down the chimney that Santa, flew off his bike, in a bound

He was dress’d in his helmet, stylish new gear head to foot

And his clothes were all tarnished, muddy with trail soot,

A bundle of bikes, hung from his back

Wow, he must be jacked, all those bikes in his pack,

His legs oh his calves looked so defined and merry,

his cheeks red from riding, and his nose like a cherry,

The padding he wore protected his round bod and his teeth,

and although it was odd, round his neck, he wore a wreath

He had a broad face, a little round belly

That shook when he huked off drops, like a bowl full of jelly,

Despite his long ride, he was chubby, a right jolly ol elf

and I chuckled when I saw him in spite of myself

A changing of the gear, and a peddle to the ground,

Gave me info to know, to ride with this guy, I would have to pound

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work

and fill’d the stocking near the bike rack, and then angled with a jerk

And laying his finger, up inside his nose,

I said Santa that’s gross but assured me, it’s fine, that’s how it goes,

He sprung up the chimney, e-bike and all with a whistle

and away they all rode, like the down thistle,

but I heard him scream out, as he drove into the night,

Merry Christmas mountain bikers and to the rest, go buy a new bike!!

Wishing you the very merriest Christmas Folks!!!

– Woody