I haven't finished processing all my Lucas trip pics, but in the meantime, I got back on the bike.
I've been off since June with the bypass surgery, and had done a couple of shorter rides but the last Friday of October I decided to go ahead and ride to work and back.
Being the last Friday, that meant Critical Mass, and since it's the October one, that means a costume ball Critical Mass, the best kind of all.
I saw Jones across Westport Road when I was coming up Broadway that evening. He called out, "Welcome back to the land of the living."
Except I didn't realize it was Jones because he was on a regular bike, not a Pugsley or an enormous Big Wheel.
I'd made a dash to A to Z Theatrical to get a costume after work. I almost went with Rorschach from Watchmen, which is basically a balaclava made into a mask. It was a chilly ride in that morning, so the idea had appeal.
Instead, I got a priest collar.
I wasn't sure how visible it was, but I asked Jones at the pre-ride gathering, "Do I look like a child molester?"
"Always," he said. Then, "Oh, I hadn't noticed the collar."
Lots of great costumes were on hand, and if I'd been more patient with the camera I could show you even more than what I have here. Thing One and Thing Two on a tandem, an orange safety cone, Marie Antoinette, I don't know what all.
I was more than a little exhausted when I got home, 35 miles all in. And more than a little sore the next day. And the day after that, and the day after that. It was actually the following Wednesday before I felt up to doing the commute in full again.
The party ended up on the lower deck of the Central Avenue bridge, and I thought I had a contingent talked into coming home with me to visit Corinna.
But somehow when people started to leave they were all going the other way, back towards Westport. Pity, too, Corinna's been laid up enough with her brain injury that a peloton of drunks showing up on a Friday night in costumes and makeup would have been a sight for sore eyes.
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