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The day it opened cool and clear,
My journey long to end back here,
I checked my trike and she was good,
Knowing she'd behave just as she should,

We started the journey eager and keen,
Ready to roll the both of us clean,
To arrive half way cold but dry,
I didn't like the look in the sky,

The journey back was a different tale,
When the snow came down I rode like a snail.
Past the Cat and Fiddle I was now riding blind,
Her large rear wheels flicked up snow behind,

The white wall they made got us hard to see,
I'm glad the other drivers kept missing me,
We arrived back in town as it started to clear,
Both covered in snow and surprised to be here.

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Covered in Snow.