That Doggone Wheel*

The year was 1907 and Jake was really in his prime,
Everybody agreed he was a legend in his own time.
Jake could rope and tie the rankest cattle in the land,
For you see, he had a reputation as a top cowhand.

Jake could ride the wildest horses in all the West,
No matter if they bit and bucked their absolute best.
Why, he could ride any creature that ever wore hair.
And whatever he rode, he rode with style and flair.

When it came to cowboying, Jake always set the pace.
No other cowpoke came close, not around this place.
But Jake's one near-death experience made him squeal.
Truth is, he took a lickin' from a doggone wheel.

Jake and his pards rode their horses to town one day,
And there was a strange contraption parked in their way.
The beast had one big wheel more than six feet high,
A small wheel down below, and its rider standing by.

"Gentlemen," the tenderfoot said with a smug smile.
"I've ridden this bicycle many a pleasurable mile.
You look like men who'd enjoy wagering on a sport,
To see if one of you on my machine can long cavort."

The cowboys squinted at each other with blank looks.
They didn't know squat about fancy words from books.
That is, except for Slim McGee who also spoke real nice,
For he had been through sixth grade not once but twice.

"I assure you, sir," Slim said, "your challenge will be met.
There is one cowboy amongst us who works without a net.
Our pard Jake, here, ain't afraid to straddle anything.
We'll bet he can make your darn bicycle dance and sing."

All those cowboys put up a humongous wad of dough,
Then the whole town lined the street to see the show.
Jake strutted as he climbed up on that doggone wheel.
Suddenly the tenderfoot pushed it and let out a squeal.

Jake's legs began pumping and the wheel picked up speed,
And he soon learned this was no ordinary steed.
He wobbled to the left and swerved way to the right,
And the devilish machine gave him an awful fright.

A cowboy hollered, "Ride that son-of-a-gun, Jake!"
But as it gathered speed, he knew he'd made a mistake.
At reining horses, Jake qualified as an expert, easily.
But there was no reinin' that bicycle that he could see.

Jake's big Mexican spurs were jingling mighty loud
As he and that wheel outran the cheering crowd.
He thought, "This wheel's gonna cook my goose!"
But he was too darned scared to turn the thing loose.

Jake heard someone yell, "Watch out for that gate!"
But he looked up just a little bit too late.
Jake and that doggone wheel sent lumber flying,
And a witness swore he heard a grown man crying.

That gate had smashed Jake's hat brim down over his face,
So he couldn't see if he was headed to this or that place.
One plank of the gate ripped his hide from hither to yon,
But Jake and that doggone wheel just kept movin' on.

At the edge of town, they veered off toward Dry Creek.
Everybody ran and stood on the rim to get a peek.
Jake plowed up a patch of cactus and let out a terrible yell.
And when he clipped that oak tree his head rang like a bell.

The bicycle was throwing up a trail of dust ten feet high
When it and Jake went over the bank and began to fly.
Jake said a short, fervent prayer to try to get his life set right,
Then he crashed into the opposite bank and ended the flight.

His saddle pals peeled poor Jake off that rocky ground,
And they loaded him up and carried him back to town.
The doctor was gone, so the local vet did what he could.
He set bones and took stitches with Jake stiff as wood.

Jake opened his eyes and said, "Boys, sorry I lost our loot.
But I'm busted up real bad, from my hat down to my boot."
Slim said, "Seein' that ride was worth it, so we'll not squeal.
But if you think you're busted up, you oughta see that wheel."

Folks, many a good cowboy has been put in a terrible pickle
By tryin' to show off and put the spurs to a doggone bicycle.
Those infernal contraptions don't cut a fellah one bit of slack,
And the devil himself made the seat that sticks up your crack.

So remember my sage advice as you go down your life's trail:
Anything with just two wheels is bound to cause travail.
Truth is that a bicycle can make a grown cowpoke squeal.
So don't even think about climbing on a doggone wheel.