The blue and red skin suit that has spent most of the winter hanging in my closet started calling my name and I knew I had to make it down to the 999. With a quick change of wardrobe I dawned my silver helmet at matching Scott clipless shoes. If I was going to do this I was at least going to look good.
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| The 999 Ride tackles Main Street. (Photo: Ryan McCalmon) |
As people roll up on their bikes, I realize that there are few faces that I know or recognize. Who are these people? I have to get to know them. Introducing myself I meet Gabriel, a fixed gear rider with a good sense of humor, and many more people whose names now escape me.
The ride started a few minutes after Naresh arrived and mingled with everyone. At 9:30 we rolled out, putting aside personal preference for disobeying traffic laws and come to a group consensuses that traffic laws will be obeyed. We head down 900 South, hitting every red light along the way, but eventually meet up with a group from the Bicycle Collective and take off down Main St. As we ride I get to know more people who are new to the city or to the 999 ride.
As the evening wears on, people began to peel off from the group to head home. After we greeted every cyclist we saw as we sped through the Marmalade district, we eventually made our way to the 7-11 on 300 West.
At 7-11 I announce I am heading home and wish everyone a great evening as the group pedals on to the railroad tracks. I am giddy with energy from riding with people who just want to have fun on bicycles. Let the silliness, laughs, and freak bikes continue every week on the 999.

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