A Caliente Limerick

For about 20 years now, I have owned a Schwinn Caliente.

I’m not sure how old it is, because I bought it used, but it has been a tremendous bike.  It was cheap, it’s easy to operate for a recreational cyclist like me, and it’s durable — at least, it is if others don’t ride it.  However, at least once a year somebody borrows it and blows out a tire.  Of course, they don’t say anything about it — they just get the bike back to the garage and then slink away, leaving me to discover the problem the next time I want to take a ride.

It was beautiful here on Sunday, with the temperature reaching the 80s.  Conditions were perfect for a bike ride.  With growing anticipation I rolled the Caliente out of the garage, hopped on the seat . . . and discovered that the rear tire was flat as a pancake.  Arrgh!  I pumped it up, and it promptly deflated again. My hopes for a pleasant ride on a fine spring day were dashed.  The disappointment was such that I felt moved to pen a non-dirty limerick about the experience:

There once was a bike made by Schwinn

I sat on her seat with a grin

But my plans all went splat

‘Cause her tire was flat

And I couldn’t take her out for a spin.

For the record, writing bad poetry can help to ease the pain of a missed biking opportunity.