Any one who has been around the Tamers for a while recalls that for years on any run I was on – I had typically pulled out a box of powdered sugar Hostess Donettes, declaring “It’s not an official trail run until you’ve had a donut.”
Well – with the demise of the Hostess company – I just don’t know what I’ll do now. But – at the Christmas party, I had presented my musings on the loss of the beloved Donette. For those who were unable to attend the gathering – please find following my “Ode to the Hostess Donette.”
Moose
Ode to the Hostess Donette
“It’s not a trail run ‘til you’ve had a donut”
Tamers oft have heard me say.
On any trail ‘bout 2 hours in
And thereafter along the way.
The treat of choice was a “Donette”
Maker Hostess – now gone and late.
How I can wheel sans my dear treat
I scarce can contemplate.
When wheeling in the woods or mud
Or crawling up the rocks.
You’d know it was a trail run
When the Donettes left the box.
When in our rigs we’re gone off road
And having lots of fun.
Then break bread together – Donette style
Made for an official trail run.
To all places the Tamers go
These treats have come along –
Evans , Walker, Reiter too
Moab and Rubicon.
Tamers don’t drink while on the trail
Soused wheeling is for clowns.
But they’ll gladly crack open a Donette box
And pass them all around.
Sometimes like a beacon
They’ve led us down the trail
A Donette hanging from a branch
Marked a trail turn without fail
Or like prodding along a donkey
With a carrot on a stick
A Donette stuck on Robb Lee’s hood
Often did the trick
The Donette is a scrumptious treat
powdered sugar in its soul.
It is a niche confection
Not quite donut, more than hole
Some say other donuts exist
Like the fish out in the sea –
But they’ll just be hollow stand-ins
For a Donette freak like me.
Somehow I will continue on
And wheel the trails again
Supported by the Tamer crowd –
Its women and its men.
Yet I’ll recall , when heaven calls
The finest times I’ve ever met –
Tarrying along life’s trail
With Timber Tamers and Donettes……..