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Thread: A poem about my 250es...

  1. #1
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    A poem about my 250es...

    I was bored and got inspired by the other 3 wheeler poem so here it is...poems are fun to write

    The old 250 bigred will always serve me right
    not letting me down where the scenery gets tight
    Ill ride this big red rig till the day i die
    if i said that i liked quads id be telling a lie
    This old "tippy" trike will easily out mud
    a brand new quad thats merely just as a dud

    Fangin' into pools of mud really is no easy feat
    but the red will pull through although she is beat
    Never missing a stroke after 19 long years
    being rolled by farmers after too many beers
    The gearbox is sloppy and the clutch is worn
    patched up tires and the seat is badly torn

    The cam chain is rattely and has a trailprotrailprotrailprotrailpro load of play
    the shaft drive is great, a modern marvel of its day
    The ignition is shagged and is started with a blade
    i solemly swear this must be the best ATV made!
    The rims are bent and wobbly, the racks are full of rust
    that rear single shock suspension is definately a must

    The bars are so bent they look like the horn of a goat
    i love this old rig and am not embarresed to gloat
    Holes in her muffler and a smashed up head light
    When i flat chat this rig im as high as a kite
    The fenders are cracked and the footpegs bent
    the old bigred kept on chugging...right over a tent

    I love this bigred trike and she serves me justly
    the thing is just ever reliable and downright trusty
    Some day ill restore her, back to its former glory
    there is so much rust tearing her down could get gorey
    Nevertheless it'll happen one day, with some money and time
    although im still content on hearing that big thumper chime...

    The End

    There ya go hope you enjoyed it....

    Matt
    1980 ATC 70 Needs Restoration
    1985 ATC 250es Fully Refurbed
    1986 ATC 350x Mint Original

  2. #2
    broook's Avatar
    broook is offline At The Back Of The Pack Arm chair racerFirst time rider
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    Good job Matt.

    Now if you could come up with a poem for the one you restored!!!!!!!!!

  3. #3
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    great poem
    Current rides:
    85 Honda 200x -- For Sale
    86 Honda 200x
    79 Honda Z50 minibike

    If speed kills......I'm a dead man!

  4. #4
    good job!
    84 Honda Big Red w/plow
    85 Honda 200X
    88 Honda CR 125
    86 350x(in process of building)
    :trikesown :Beerchug :trikesown

  5. #5
    Billy Golightly's Avatar
    Billy Golightly is offline Always finding new and exciting ways to not give a hoot in hell Catch me if you can
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    Hey that was pretty good matt!

  6. #6
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    Ya...that was a great poem. I would write one...but poetry is just not my thing...
    [20:55] <waterpumper> putting a racing pipe on a Foreman is like putting a high dollar bikini on a 400 pound chick...just because it fits doesn't mean it looks cool

  7. #7
    Join Date
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    wow thats the best poem i have ever herd cool...drunk farmers lmao..
    1985 Tri-Z-

    Quote Originally Posted by mywifeknowseverything
    Just hit the Freakin Gas and Hold on!!!!!

  8. #8
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    lol thats kicked ass no joke. here a song you should here its by Adam Sandler ''ode to my car'' well anyways they should make a 3 wheeler poem thing on this site just for poems. lol you should be the narator.

  9. #9
    Join Date
    Mar 2003
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    Thanks for all the kind words fellas...i like writing poetry and im kinda good at it, here is another poem i wrote not long ago about or trip away (shame my trike wasnt running)

    Our Far West Trip

    The Utes are all loaded, its 10 am, and we are on our way
    Gundabooka here we come, were heading there for a holiday
    Shopping for food in Mudgee, grabbing 3 trolleys full of grub
    Don’t let the farmer out of the ute or he'll head to the pub
    Hurry up no time to spare, we need to get there before dark
    But with Farmer giving the orders there is no chance for such luck

    Finally we get to Dubbo, Looking for a motorbike part
    It’s the home town of Adam from where he will depart
    Farmer drives to damn slow, we get several ks ahead
    Stopping at a fuel station that sells good hot chips on bread
    Ryan provides a dollar, lots of lollies for young Will
    Good man, but are ya gonna pay for his dental bill?

    That good old pub at Byrock, with goats horns on the wall
    In that big gravel car park, we kids kicked round a football
    The teams were, Me, Ryan, Will and Tim vs. Josh Sam and Linc
    After we gave them a flogging their faces turned bright pink
    Bourke was full of black fellas, but you couldn’t see em at night
    It was their smile that would give them away and give you a fright

    Shell at Bourke, the petrol station, was the place to be
    To meet Adam and his 2 kids and the dog he has for company
    The uhfs were all blaring, past that turnoff out from Bourke
    If we accidentally went to Cobar, wouldn’t farmer look like a jerk?
    Use a map and check the roads, a smart man did once say
    It’s the road before that sign, everyone follow us this way

    Farmer grabs a few 6 packs and drinks them one by one
    Throwing cans out the window, he thought it was a lot of fun
    A can can’t exit a closed window, its only common sense
    Farmer found out the hard way, lucky they didn’t hit a fence
    3 six packs and 8 pee stops later, we are drawing near
    Kids are heaps excited, all Farmer wants is another beer

    The white old gate is now in sight, cheers from all the cars
    Nobody can believe it, but we have arrived here at last
    Meeting everybody is something that must be done
    Before the gear is unpacked for a morning full of fun
    People, people everywhere, Adults, kids big and small
    Everyone is smiling; they know this week is going to be a ball

    Everything is unloaded, from food to hunting gear
    The kids are all playing until little Tim sheds a tear
    The camp fire is inviting, its warmth glowing in the dark
    Then the damn thing starts smoking, the culprit is some bark
    It’s getting late and everyone starts to head to their camps
    I start to fall asleep at that last flicker of the lamps….

    Up early the next morning, itching to go for a motorbike ride
    Too chilly for some of them, they are really trying to hide
    First we fix a tire, and then top them up with fresh fuel
    The bikes start up, and warm up, till I get a spark plug tool
    Flying along the dusty track the 3 motorbikes go
    The riders bloody fingers could swear they were in some snow

    The first day is over, as fast as you can blink an eye
    As we all ride into camp, “how many pigs did you see” asks Di
    Not a single pig on this first day came 3 disgusted replies
    Riding makes one hungry have we got any meat pies?

    They weren’t meat pies, but the camp feeds were good
    Cooking up some food whenever anyone could

    The next few days came and went with little or no sign of pigs
    Only one mob was spotted, but we were happy riding our rigs
    A mother emu and 2 chicks were spotted way out on a plain
    As soon as they were spotted the motorbikes copped a cane
    Long mud flats gave the feeling you were on the moon,
    Although you weren’t really they were still good for a hoon

    One night while sitting in camp the mighty hunter arrived
    Across the road he had spotted 2 pigs, of which none survived
    He was quite the happy man, content with his prize
    We were all stoked, some happy some surprised
    While eating breakfast, he saw a cat and shot it that morning
    Arrow through the chest to finish him off and that day wasn’t boring

    The week had passed, wed had our fun but it was time to pack it in
    Bags in the Ute, trailer loaded and all the rubbish in a bin
    We were off to a TSR to camp for the night, we camped near a rehab
    An Aboriginal one at that, nobody was happy but Ryan thought it was fab
    That night we all slept well, and were off in the morning again
    Off to Carinda, pig country at its best, but all it did was rain.

    We left there the very next day, in order to beat the rest of the rain
    The road felt fine so we headed off with everything to gain
    15ks out of Town, we got as bogged as bogged can be
    That was kind of good cause I really needed to pee
    Sometime later everything was free, it certainly was no easy feat
    Staying at the pub was fun and they sold good stuff to eat

    It was now back to Rylstone, which is nowhere near the coast
    We were planning to leave after a big breakfast of cereal and toast
    Bellies full, it was now time to head off, we packed up all our things
    Going down the dead straight road wondering what next year brings

    Hope you understood most of our aussie lingo...

    Matt
    1980 ATC 70 Needs Restoration
    1985 ATC 250es Fully Refurbed
    1986 ATC 350x Mint Original

  10. #10
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    i do matt and thats bloody awesome

  11. #11
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    Ab, canada
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    Those are great poems man, The one about the big red pretty much tells the story of our old big reds! The bars on my old 82 were bent back like that, but in -40 weather when all of the quads were pulled in or pull started, the old red still started up like nothing.

  12. #12
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    LOL Thats awesome guys! Good job!!
    1986 ATC 250R
    Ported w/ Cool head
    LED pipe and silencer.
    Vforce3
    Keihin PWK 38mm
    Works Ultra Cross Shock
    LSR +2 Axle
    American Star Racing +4 Swinger
    LED Intake
    Hi-Flite desert seat
    OEM clutch 89 upgrade
    2021 YFZ450Rse Rossier R5 Titanium Header AIS Delete FCI Vortex ECU


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