If circumstances or the gubmint or an injury ever prevent you from being able to pedal around, you’ll realize this all the more clearly and remind yourself that you ought to take every opportunity for two-wheeling, especially on a late spring evening in the Pacific Northwest on which it stays light until well after the full moon rises and the air remains as soft as the puffy clouds illuminated by the setting sun.
Having bruised your knee sufficiently badly in a stupid, careless, tip-over leaving the rooftop bar (at a pub coincidentally called The Rooftop Bar) to make bike riding today (and one hopes not too much longer) out of the question, you become hyper-aware of how lucky you are most days to be able to swing your leg over the top tube and bend from the knee with each turn of the crank, both activities that are beyond you at the moment.
It was one of those rides where the destinations emerge more or less organically, in the grand old tradition of whoever yells the loudest gets to decide. There was some classic backtracking as we figured out where we were headed by heading there and a lovely stop for fluid intake and output at the public/private partnership park overlooking Elliot Bay.
The pub by the side of the Ship Canal Trail provided an ideal spot for recongregating and reminiscing and it would have been perfect had you not failed to pay attention to the curb by which your bike was parked and done an endo on to the left knew, which subsequently has taken on the responsibility of showing what an idiot you are by not being able to bend beyond about 80 degrees and which is also, therefore, giving you the aforementioned reminder of what a treat it is to be able to ride.
Here's hoping you’ll be enjoying that treat again soon.
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