‘Twas The Night Before Christmas…



‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house,

There were hopes of new knobbies, like TKs & Heidenaus;

Crash bars and bash plates all fitted with care,

Protecting your ride from a drop here & wash-out there;

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,

With dreams of XR’s and TW’s playing in their heads;

And mom in her Klim and me in Firstgear,

Had just settled in for a snooze as midnight neared.

When from straight pipes there arose a great Braaap,

I was harshly awakened from my Christmas Eve nap;

Away to the window I moved with poise,

Tore open the shutters, in search of this noise;

I peered out the window to the street down below,

Could that be a bike despite all this snow;

When, what to my drowsy eyes should appear,

But a man on Scrambler sporting red and white gear;

With that little old rider, so lively and quick,

I asked right that moment, could this be St. Nick?!

Suddenly more motorcycles, by twos they came,

He whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:

“Now! Harley, now! Honda, now! Yamaha, and Suzuki,

 “On! Triumph, on! Indian, on! Ducati and Moto-Guzzi;

 “To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!

 “Just Pin it! Rev away! Rev away all!”

Like supermotos, these bikes they could fly,

When met with obstacle, they took to the sky;

So up to the housetop, the scoots they flew,

With a Desert Sled loaded with Toys – and St. Nicholas too;

And suddenly after a skid, I heard from the roof,

Someone hitting the Chimney with an audible “OOF”!

As I drew in my head, and was turning around,

Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed in his leathers, from chin-bar to foot,

Yet completely untarnished, despite the ashes and soot;

A bundle of bike parts strapped to his back,

He looked like RevZilla, unraveling the stack;


He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,

And gave the biker wave, despite being froze,

And closing his visor, up the chimney he rose.

He sprung to his Scram, his team ready to travel,

And away they rode, shooting rooster-tails of gravel;

As he drifted around the corner, he broke out in song

 “Merry Christmas to all, and ride all year long!”


This entry was posted in Opinion and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to ‘Twas The Night Before Christmas…

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s