If you douse it in enough lighter fluid while it’s already burning, so that the somewhat vile-smelling flames rise high enough to light up your impromptu firepit, you can manage to eke out a little warmth and enjoy the experience, slightly augmented, elemental to the human experience, of congregating around a heat source at night to share observations and stories.
A short bicycle ride is still a bicycle ride (even if the “ride” includes standing atop a newly off-limits parking garage for just as long as it takes for the rather accommodating security guard to shoo you away for not even one in your midst being an employee of the organization for which said garage is meant.)
If you navigate the upward chicane, slip through the open gate, and spin around to the top, the city opens wide; it just takes a little imagination, trust in wayfaring, and willingness to put fun in front of perfect behavior.
And a relatively small group for such a mild and colorful spring evening is still a group, (even if the “group” grows smaller pretty quickly and disbands fairly early; like an argument requiring only two statements, one of which is the conclusion, the other being a premise that purports to support said conclusion, it doesn’t take much to fulfill the criteria and thus imply, as does an argument, a logical (or, in this case somewhat illogical) relationship between what is being argued for and the alleged evidence for it.
All of which is to say, (and which has likely been said before), that having fun requires a bit of effort, but in fact, and where two-wheelers are involved, not really that much. A one-log fire, a short bicycle ride, a small group and there you have it: sweet.
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