When I had a-pedalled to virtual Elko,
I groaned as I hoisted myself from the saddle.
Unsnapping my helmet, unstrapping shoe Velcro
I came face-to-face with some actual cattle.This suburban fam'ly had put up a stable.
A calf stared at me, her eyes widened and soggy.
I said, "Little dogie, I'd chat, were I able,
but it's late. I'm awaited by my little doggie."
Elko, Nevada is home of the annual National Cowboy Poetry Gathering, an event now called plain "Elko" by cowboy cognoscenti. It's one of the places I've visited virtually on my bike since COVID by racking up miles on trails around Atlanta and applying those to a map of the US. My rule has been to visit only "places I've lived or loved."
I relate to Elko through radio commentator Baxter Black, "cowboy poet and former large animal veterinarian" who provided poems and commentary on NPR for many years. This poem is about an actual experience at the end of my bike ride in a suburb of Atlanta.
See other stops on my tour at my page Cycling the World Virtually. - WSS
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