[PCH (Pacific Coast Highway)
On a short list of coveted things in my life,
Is to ride PCH with my favorite wife.
A ribbon of asphalt that will always entertain,
A beautiful coast under azure or rain.
A choice bit of road, Cambria to Monterey,
Sooner, not later, that debt we will pay.
Carrie rides her bike and I ride mine,
The two of us together, we'll be just fine.
You won't be excluded from an adventure we take,
A poem, or some photos, a scrapbook to make.
Any bike will be fine; we don't care how you traverse,
Just don't use a car, for that would be like a hearse.
We'll split from brutha' Ray's house in Paso Robles town,
We'll go to ragged point, a cup o' Joe to be downed.
We might feed the birds, trail mix by the bunch,
You know they can't resist that ol' free lunch.
An overpriced snack at Nepenthe–no real harm,
It's part of the character, it's part of the charm.
The road twists and turns for miles and miles,
A full tank of petrol, interminable smiles.
California, Oregon, and Washington, too,
We've been the whole way alongside Pacific blue.
The road rises and falls between cliffs and fields,
Green grass, brown sand, even elephant seals.
Cambria Pines, Hearst Castle and Bixby Creek Bridge,
Keep your knees in the breeze, you'll be glad that you did.
BMW Motorrad is our brand of choice,
Any would be fine; we have more than one voice.
We have met many folks on our rides up the coast,
From lands far and near, of that we can boast.
We have ridden this route sometimes just for fun,
And to Laguna Seca, for the races they run.
We have seen people standing in the dirt roadside,
Slack jawed and jealous as we pass them on glide.
Don't do this ride once, do it at least twice,
South to north, north to south–that would be nice.