A poem perhaps?

The Red Braye

Pedals pushing
Wheels spinning,
Sun shining warmly
glimmering like a medal in the sky
Breeze lightly blowing
Ruslting, the leaves in the trees whisper,
Spurring us on
Up one gentle rolling hill and down another
Surrounded by green pastures
more dazzling than gold,
Anticipation rises
the heart quickens,
the rider’s pace hastened as
the pinnacle of the Red Braye
enters the iris of our eyes,
and awakens the imagination,
Take-off,
We spread arms wide and soar,
Weightless
The lines on the road
Blur into one
Time is different here
In this moment of pure exhilaration
And freedom
Soon, we’re back
Where the journey began.