Last night, roughly fifteen cyclists gathered at Adrian Public Library to take part in this year’s Ride of Silence, an event that aims to raise awareness by commemorating the lives of those who have died while riding their bicycles, primarily by unfortunate encounters with motorized traffic.
It’s a short ride, a quiet ride, a slow ride. While part of me (I genuinely hate to admit this) arrived at the meeting place chagrined that we were missing our usual Wednesday night club ride on the one day in the past forever when it wasn’t raining and cold, I was soon reminded of what a fundamentally beautiful thing it is to roll about on two wheels. It is one of life’s simplest and richest pleasures.
Often when I ride, and especially so on a night like last night, I thank God for the privilege of riding — to be physically capable, to have the means to own a bike, to be given the time, to experience the world in this unique and truly magnificent way. At the risk of sounding a bit melodramatic, it is a God-awful tragedy that anyone, for any reason, would be permanently robbed of such things, and that the people who know and cherish them would in turn be robbed of the joy and warmth that their life gave.
Returning to last night’s ride, I just want to say how happy I am that two young cyclists joined us. Here’s wishing them a very, very bike- and pedestrian-friendly world tomorrow.