Here’s to the slow rider

Here’s to the slow rider of cross
The mainstay of the field
Who wields
The bike towards inevitable loss

Here’s to the slow rider of cross
Oft-ignored by the lens
Save if in the background of a leader
Riding past the pit pens
With no option of a spare
But no care
For the kilos of mud accumulated
And though with fewer laps
The passion is sated
And the effort
And exhaustion
And commitment
Matches the podium grabbers

Here’s to the slow rider of cross
Far from being the dross
Rides it like a boss
Even if only in the mind
But finds
That lap
Just there
That corner
The
Perfect
Line

Here’s to the slow rider of cross
The stutter remount
After multiple step count
Between hurdles
Through the mud
And the crud
Discovering the art of the slow topple
The stall
Then the fall
The pick-up
With a smile
A grin that says
This is fucking awesome

Here’s to the slow rider of cross
You are legion
You are me
You are two laps down and still digging in
You are cheered on
That cowbell is for you
You pinned it on
And you
Are a rider of cross