The Road to Montgomery

The temperature cut like a knife

Hope Valley a source of great strife

There’s an old truthful lie,

But to my searching eye,

In Hope there was no sign of life.

Though the hills were all shrouded in mist

The Ridgeway could not have been missed

We got to the top 

And had a short stop

For someone’s chain had gone on the twist.

We rifled along to the border

In our usual state of disorder

The roadworks we braved 

For the caffeine we craved 

Would Kerry Vineyard be open to order?

We soon found out that it would

And as I surveyed all the food

My heart gave a start

For a Portuguese tart

A bit of that would surely be good!

Not much else to report, truth be told

Refuelled we set off quite bold

Mid-day sun in Montgomery

But still no more summery

We all continued complaining of cold.

The return leg was mercifully flat

A gentle tailwind was welcome at that

Two groups racing back,

Soon splintered and cracked,

Got home safely in spite of all that.

Ellerdine Heath