The only Ride I regretted

Is the one I didn't take

This was the ride I missed for the second year in a row. The Third annual Viking Biking Ride.

The other day was a rough day for me. The good part of the day was that I got to spend part of it on my bike. The bad part of the day was the fact that I was on my bike so I could get to work to spend my day working on mandatory overtime instead of going on one of my favorite group rides. The Viking ride and Pot luck lunch.

It made for a rough day. I kept looking out out of the window, seeing the sun shine and knowing that weather, while chilly was clear and fine. My urge to be out on my bike was an actual physical need. The ride in the cold morning air from where the weekend bus dropped me off and  down the hill to the Montour trail that would take me to my work served only to whet my appetite. All day I worked as my gaze was taken, over and over again, back to where my bike stood mocking me.

Six hours, The longest six hours I have experienced. When the time finally past and I was able to get back on my bike and head back up the hill I happily rode down that morning, I did so with great joy. Until I started back up that hill.

I really don’t like hills.

Still up the hill I went, off to the bus stop and back into town. After the short ride back into town I found myself on my Big Orange Bike headed through Station Square and on my way to riverside park on the South Side. This was the day of the Third Annual Viking Biking Ride and Potluck Picnic.  I was too late for the ride but I would be in time for the Picnic. A quick stop at a Grocery Store to pick up my part of the potluck and then down to the Park.

It was my welcome that reminded me, almost painfully, why I value these people (my friends) so much. Before I was off my bike I was welcomed as a member of the tribe. Not an exclusive tribe, but as a tribe that includes everyone on two wheels. I was welcomed by people I didn’t know, by people who were simply riding through and joined the ride. These people were part of us, were part of the tribe by their very action of choosing a bike.

I missed the bike ride and that I regret. but I didn’t miss the most important part of day. That part where people I think of as friends (old and new) stood around the growing fire and marked themselves and each other as members in good standing in one group.

A group I am proud to be a member of.