Well, I put a triathlon saddle on my bike today and put the brooks upon my shelf. Feeling guilty I wrote my poor saddle an ode, to cheer it until Randonneuring season starts up again.
Ode to my Saddle.
Oh leather Brooks, betwixt my cheeks,
That would not soften for weeks and weeks,
And hast endured many gaseous emissions,
Hind sweat, assorted balms and other reeks.
Hast always been true though various conditions.
Oh oiled saddle beneath my rear,
My hind quarters in pain did not sear,
Though heavy weight made the racers snear and snigger,
And many a rider thought me quite queer,
I stifle a laugh, their bottom sores are bigger.
Oh cowhide hammock, who holds my jewels,
And as I ride and shift them, he deftly duels,
with one last adjustment, I’m glad to find the spot,
riding in comfort, past poor grimacing fools,
Who bought countless saddles, and great comfort have sought.
Oh Leather brooks, carry me on,
Through darkest night, and bright summer dawn,
And keep not, concentration on things which are down,
Just keep me in comfort, and looking anon,
going forth, smiling away with nary a frown.