Twas the ride before Christmas, And not until Spring, Would an engine be running, not even a Wing. The bikes are all sleeping, They’re covered and warm , nylon covers their magnificent form. My Bros were all nestled snug in their beds, While visions of new chrome danced in their heads. And I in my bike jacket,and the boots I adore ,was out shoveling snow and dreaming a Tour, Then from the horizon there came such a clatter, My shovel I dropped, what could be the matter? Away up the hill, I slogged through the snow, Looked up at the sky; where’d all that noise go? A throb from the heavens like straight pipes so hearty, Gave Summers’ good thoughts, a loud bikers’ party. When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a neat ’02 Retro, Red trailer in rear. With a little old rider, so lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick. More rapid than Crotchies his Retro came on, And he whistled, and shouted, and sang out this song; Now, Harley! Now, Big Dog! On Honda and Beamer! Now Vulcan! Now Injun! On Vict’ry and Trumpet! To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall! Now RIDE away! RIDE away! RIDE away all!” As  bikes that from the semis do fly, When they meet with the air blast, mount to the sky. So up to the house-top that Ol’ X it flew, With a trailer of goodies, and ole’ St. Nick too. And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof, The rumble and thunder of pipes that gave proof. I ran to the house, boots thumping around, And in came St. Nick all bearded and round. Dressed all in black leather, from jacket to boot, His chaps were all tarnished with road grime and soot. A T-bag of goodies he’d flung on his back, And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack. His shades — how they twinkled! his do-rag how scary! With chains intertwined, through skulls that were cherry! His droll little mouth had done many a row, So the beard of his chin was as white as the snow. The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, The smoke had a strange smell; it gave him relief! He had a broad face and a large fat beer belly, That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly. He was tattooed and plump, a right jolly old rider, So I offered a cold Bud, thought what could be righter? A wink of his eye as he downed that cold beer, Gave me to know I had nothing to fear. He spoke not a word, but went straight to my ride, And fixed it with Chrome, Horsepower and Pride! And giving the peace sign with bikers’ good cheer, Took off for his Retro which was rumbling quite near. He sprang on the saddle, his gloves on the bars, A wheeley he threw then off towards the stars! I heard him exclaim, as my chest swelled with pride… “Merry Christmas To All, And To All A Good Ride!”



  1. Niiiice. Are the reindeer out to pasture do you think? Or have they ‘gone to a farm but we can’t visit them, but they’re very happy none the less’?

  2. Santa may still need the reindeers on nights when the bike doesn’t start because it’s too cold, or the carbs are clogged, or the battery has died because he forgot to hook it up to the charger!

    • montieandme Says:

      I could do with a Reindeer Lance, my Montie is refusing to start at all, first good day we had yesterday and I couldnt go for a ride 😦

  3. Linda, forgot to mention…my wife LOVED the “man song” so she sends her regards!

    • montieandme Says:

      hahaha was funny,ı love the song as well, Give my best regards to your wife also and a very Happy Christmas to you both and Family xx

  4. Linda:

    you are so talented, so poetic of you. This gave me a great image in my mind and I was singing your words to that Christmas song, “Rudolph the RED nosed Reindeer”.

    Hope you get Montie started soon

    bobskoot: wet coast scootin

    • montieandme Says:

      Thanks Bob but I cannot take credit for this, I merely changed a few words to make it apply to me lol, Montie is in the dog house at the moment, shall be having stern words with him if he does not start!!!

  5. Linda:

    I presume Montie is a guy, after all, you wouldn’t be straddling a female. Give Montie some tender loving caresses on his gas tank and whisper sweet nothings, he will instantly spring to attention and start vibrating for you

    bobskoot: wet coast scootin

  6. montieandme Says:

    Think it may just take abit more than that Bob, but thanks for you expert advice 🙂

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