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1995 Iron Butt Rally Poem, by Prunella Jane Reynolds who was
the most important person in Canadian Roy Eastwood's support crew!
They came to Salt Lake City, from points near and far,
Most rode on their motorbikes, the odd one in a car.
Some of them came alone, others with a mate;
All met by Steve Chalmers - a man they'd learn to hate!
For two years they had prepared, for this 11 day ride -
Mostly they would ride alone, no one by their side.
The days and nights would soon become one eternal blur,
When asked, "Are you having fun yet?" Replies are: "No, Sir!"
From Day One they endured constant burning heat,
And by San Diego it already had some beat.
I'm glad I wasn't with them, if asked I'd say, "I'll pass."
Florida saw them tired and sore, with a blistered ass.
Mile after mile, thousands and more.
From coast to coast, each distant shore.
We knew each one that started would give it all they'd got.
But a moose could finish you, if across the road they trot.
Things would happen on the way, and you'd hear someone sigh,
"There's only one way through the desert - that is to fly!"
Stopping was a chore, gas up, pee and eat
Just keep on truckin', now stay on your feet.
When you got so tired and stopped to sleep,
It came so fast, no need for counting sheep!
But the worst part in sleeping was that damn alarm bell...
Waking you up much too soon to this living hell.
You kept on going to the end, I admire your fortitude,
Although peeing in a funnel I thought a little crude.
You are the toughest in the world, you really can't be beat.
The tales you'll tell, the sights you saw are really pretty neat.
The pain and tiredness you feel now will fade,
The plans for the next run soon will be made.
There'll be a run in '97, that seems sure.
For 1995, though, the Butt stops here!
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