By Christopher L. Palmer
ĎOde to the Trikeí They say my bikeís a relic of days long since past
by Chris Palmer
That itís best times are over, and really not all that fast
They say that itís too risky, why would you ride that thing?
Donít you know one day, youíll be in a body sling?
Isnít that thing illegal, didnít Uncle Sam say stop?
Didnít they already throw in the towel, and call that thing a flop?
The chassis cut in half with a torch, the motor pulled and stashed
You say you did me a favor, stopping me before I crashed
The magic, pride, joy, and thrill that Iíve had over the years
Will never be forgotten just because of somebodyís fears
1 wheel, 2 wheels, 3 wheels or 4
How you ride it means much more
You said that things were better now, felt like you were in heaven
Since all those blasted 3 wheel machines died in Ď87
Yet here I remain in the saddle of my infamous atc
Just to remind you that you didnít get the better of me
Although my bike is unstable as you would like to say
I couldnít imagine myself riding in any other way
You say that Iíll regret it, that I must not be too keen
All youíre really admitting is that you donít know how to ďleanĒ
You tell me 4 wheels are better, that itís a safer way to ride
Iíll try to keep that in mind my friend, the next time I roost your hide
You say 4 wheels are superior, modern marvels of the time
You just keep on thinking that when you see me turn on a dime
Banshees, warriors, blasters, and the ultimate raptor rule?
You go ahead and pay 5 grand, and youíll look really cool
I choose Tri-Zís, 350Xís, tecateís, and 250rís
To me they are and will remain the true shining stars
Scoff, laugh, and jester all you like about my toy
Say itís a joke, a pansy ride, built for a little boy
One day youíll see me fly past you, in a blurry flash of light
With roost on your head and dust in your eyes youíll realize that Iím right
To those of you whoíll join me, to be proud to ride 3 wheels
Donít ever forget the joy youíve had and how exciting it feels
We may be the few, the brave, the last of a dying breed
But our atcís still live on, and quench our thirst for speed.