Over the years, our beloved Cascade Bike Club has earned the affectionate regard of numerous branches of the local civic authorities.
We’ve engaged in half a dozen or so friendly conversations with the Seattle Police Department; club members have traded tips on water safety with the University of Washington security forces; Seattle Fire Department has kindly shared with us perspectives on outdoor grilling; Bainbridge Island’s Finest has offered guidance on picnicking under the trees in their neighborhood; the Washington State Patrol has shown a deep interest in combined efforts around bicycle route planning; at least one city park rent-a-cop has joined in the evening’s festivities around a fire; and, of course, Puget Sound Ferry captains have graciously consented to provide advice on proper boating attire en route.
Never before, however, (at least in my experience), has the group enjoyed the privilege of being greeted by the Harbor Patrol, who showed their regard by illuminating the night, thereby enabling a more efficient clean-up and departure for bulls, matador, and runners alike.
The annual encierro successfully achieved escape velocity, which just goes to show that, even in a world where tragedies abound, joy can still be made manifest with the help of two-wheelers, silly costumes, and ample fermented or distilled beverages.
While nerds with smartphones looked to their handheld devices for fun and games in the virtual world, riders of bikes found delight in a full-throttled four-dimensional existence simply by dressing up, pedaling en masse, singing songs that had little, if anything, to do with an event being celebrated, and, in my case, screaming “Yay” as loudly as possible each time the spirit inevitably moved one to do so.
Although nobody was gored, there was at least one unfortunate human/animal encounter that drew bodily fluid; one can only hope that, as noted taurophile Papa Hemingway put it in A Farewell to Arms, the ‘blood coagulates beautifully.”
And appropriately enough, bulls ended the evening at a Zoo, toro, toro, olé.
We’ve engaged in half a dozen or so friendly conversations with the Seattle Police Department; club members have traded tips on water safety with the University of Washington security forces; Seattle Fire Department has kindly shared with us perspectives on outdoor grilling; Bainbridge Island’s Finest has offered guidance on picnicking under the trees in their neighborhood; the Washington State Patrol has shown a deep interest in combined efforts around bicycle route planning; at least one city park rent-a-cop has joined in the evening’s festivities around a fire; and, of course, Puget Sound Ferry captains have graciously consented to provide advice on proper boating attire en route.
Never before, however, (at least in my experience), has the group enjoyed the privilege of being greeted by the Harbor Patrol, who showed their regard by illuminating the night, thereby enabling a more efficient clean-up and departure for bulls, matador, and runners alike.
The annual encierro successfully achieved escape velocity, which just goes to show that, even in a world where tragedies abound, joy can still be made manifest with the help of two-wheelers, silly costumes, and ample fermented or distilled beverages.
While nerds with smartphones looked to their handheld devices for fun and games in the virtual world, riders of bikes found delight in a full-throttled four-dimensional existence simply by dressing up, pedaling en masse, singing songs that had little, if anything, to do with an event being celebrated, and, in my case, screaming “Yay” as loudly as possible each time the spirit inevitably moved one to do so.
Although nobody was gored, there was at least one unfortunate human/animal encounter that drew bodily fluid; one can only hope that, as noted taurophile Papa Hemingway put it in A Farewell to Arms, the ‘blood coagulates beautifully.”
And appropriately enough, bulls ended the evening at a Zoo, toro, toro, olé.
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