Senior Citizen Bike Tour

We’re headed for Oregon
on the aptly named Transam
to dip our toes in the pacific
more than three thousand miles
from our start
The turkey vultures
lurking in the trees
scouting for fresh prey
will have to wait
hold off boys we tell them
haven’t you heard
ninety is the new eighty
and dead the new ninety.
 
And so we cycle on
through undulating fields
of towering corn
past barns with American flags
the rusting iron ruins of industrial towns
lining the abandoned  railroad tracks
the tumbledown backwoods shacks
where the only sign of life
is a Christmas wreath
nailed to the front door
places in the mountains
so remote
they consist of a post office
and one lone gas pump.

Given our advanced age
you might ask what happens
if one of us perishes on route.
We’ll simply dig a deep hole
by the side of the road
say a brief prayer helmet in hand
send an e-mail to their kin
and carry on.
 
We’ll still be cycling
in the sweet hereafter
our Treks chained to the pearly gates
lest an angel or a saint
be tempted to swipe one
and pedal away

The author is Arthur Heifetz.

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Image (top)by Zuzanna Wrobel / Unsplash

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