Pasted here in case you don’t Facebook
‘Twas the night before ‘crossmas, when all through the Dales not a creature was stirring not even Nick Craig
Skinsuits were hung by the door with care, in the hopes that Saint John Rawnsley soon would be there.
The riders were nestled all snug in their beds with visions of punctures from water bars danced in their heads.
And Nicky Hartle in her ‘kerchief and Neil Hendry in his cap has settle down for a long Septembers nap.
When out on the sign on tent there arose such a clatter,
Neil sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window he flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the calcium rich green grass
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a giant green hot air balloon emblazoned with the @hopetech logo,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
Neil knew in a moment it must be St. John Rawnsley
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
“Now, JEBBY! now, Jack Splat’s Clarkson now, Gary Macdonald and Verity Appleyard
On, Dave Haygarth ! on Scot Easter ! on, Davie Graham and Paul Masson !
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to Ribblehead the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of wheels and snacks, and St. John Rawnsley too
Sleep well #3PCX