We met down in Penzance, five bikes and a plan, With Sean the mad ginger endurance man. He’s swum it, he’s run it, he’s done it on sail— And now we would ride it through wind, sun and hail. Roy had the van with the macaroons stashed, We all piled in and to Land’s End we dashed. Took our group photo and tightened our shoes, Sean said “keep it easy,” but we all lit the fuse... 🎶 From Land’s End to John o’Groats, Through rain and sleet in soggy coats. We climbed, we cursed, we chased the goats— For nine mad days on saddled floats. We laughed, we ate, we broke all notes, From Land’s End to John o’Groats! 🎶 Darren the tank with his Leeds United pride, Soloed the first day and still matched our stride. Chris repped Leeds too—'til a mid-ride crash, Bent his derailleur, gave his knee a bash. Graham, each morning, with confident glee, Said “short-term memory and verbal diarrhoea from me!” Then talked through the hills with relentless cheer, And stopped at each bakery he could steer near. 🎶 From Land’s End to John o’Groats, Where Sean stole bacon fat from my oats. He necked salt sachets, ignored all bloat— He’s part machine and part cutthroat goat! We joked, we froze, we shared our moats, From Land’s End to John o’Groats! 🎶 Through Glenshee’s sleet and northern moor, Where toes went numb and spirits tore. Sean said, “Top four coldest ever ride,” And that’s from a man who’s nearly died. We sprinted in Edinburgh just for the thrill, Forget heart rate zones—we chased the hill. I won that sprint (or so I say), Garmin says PB, so it’s my day! From castles to cows, from flat to steep, We rode through views that made us weep. And at the end, just in time for the rain, We hugged, took pics—and felt the pain. 🎶 From Land’s End to John o’Groats, Through Sean’s wild beard and Graham’s quotes. With Darren’s steel and Chris’s oaths, And Roy the king of snack-packed totes. We’ll ride again? Who bloody knows— But we crushed it, lads. To John o’Groats! 🎶
