Deilberations

The thing about riding a bike is that it’s like riding a bike: your body remembers how to do it and even if it’s been a while, it all comes back in a flash, and there you are, after an initial minor wobble, pedaling merrily on your way, as if you’ve been cycling happily non-stop all along.

The same goes for Thursday night adventures which, even when passed over for the better part of six months, immediately become familiar, right down to the intermittent drizzle and requisite regroup and safety meeting at the usual designated undesignated spot.

Our fair city offers a limited number of covered locations for assembling around a fire in the rain, so it’s not surprising that we ended up on the water’s edge with such a picturesque view of ferry boats literally passing like two ships in the night; nevertheless, on many a similar occasion, the assembled have been daunted by the distance and have opted for something closer to home.  Consequently, we heartily thank the American system of jurisprudence which indirectly made possible such a relatively ambitious endeavor through the good offices of one double-dad performing his civic duty.

No one went swimming and the off-road section of the trip was, though lovely, pretty tame, but for this sojourner, at least, it was all that could be wanted, and quite remarkable if you take the time to remark upon it.  

The world—not to belabor the point—is a huge and varied place: one where at the very same moment, people will, for instance, be performing complex traditional religious ceremonies in ancient temples while halfway across the globe, others will be connecting with their own conception of the divine through the liberal application of bikes, booze, and (non-gendered) brotherhood.  

And what’s thrilling to notice is that, different as they are, the practices are essentially similar; everywhere you look, human beings expressing their essential humanity by overcoming the human through ritual and fire.