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The corncrakes have been at it all night
Now breakfast’s a sumptuous affair
Of his toast Den takes one last bite
Which is simply too much for his chair.
He lands in a tangle of wreckage
There are splinters all over the floor
Our host makes light of the carnage
As we quickly head for the door.
A shortcut to Berneray beckons
“It’s downhill all the way from the top”
Thon’s a short-eared owl, Den reckons
That’s causing our eyes to pop.
The wind has turned round to our faces
A wicked trick has been played
But blue skies in this of all places
Is something for which we’d have prayed.
The Harris ferry is really quite something
It meanders through buoys red and green
All too soon we’re once again pedalling
A whole new island yet to be seen.
At the beach of Tara Na Malla
I recall Barafundle so proud
Though this one’s a little bit smaller
It does have the Stone of McLeod.
We grind into the wind towards Tarbert
The sea more blue than the sky
At this point I’m starting to hurt
Can’t say where but you’ll soon know why.
My saddle is now my mortal foe
And I’m running out of gas
But a turn in the road and hey presto
The wind gives us a lift up the pass.
At the brow we turn and pedal downhill
Freewheeling we’d have come to a halt
I’m beginning to think this is overkill
But the routing is all my own fault.
In Aird Asaig we decide to call it a day
My senses are full to the brim
What views we’ve seen, what fun on the way
And we started all this on a whim...
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