So I mentioned this on Twitter, but it bears further description.

This morning, a friend and I rode our bicycles to brunch. Even while riding, we continued to learn about one another, strengthening our friendship.

Afterwards, I drove a neighbor to his first experience with the Lock 4 mountain bike trails (my first visit in three years). We learned a thing or two about endurance, fear, and that you shouldn’t pass out in a car full of whipped cream bottles, because the police take issue with that. (No, that wasn’t us.)

Arriving home, I noticed another friend had called. Turns out he was riding about town, so I hopped back on the bike and met him above the river. We visited vacant industrial buildings with “for sale” signs on them, at once lamenting the businesses leaving them behind and sharing our dreams of the possibilities enabled by those same spaces.

Afterwards, I explored some more, and on my way home saw an artistic acquaintance watching a train, his bicycle parked behind him. I joined him for a while, imagining where the train was going and where it had been, trying to see if the bridge flexed beneath its weight, and experiencing the visual illusion of seeing the bridge appear to move sideways even after the train had stopped for a moment.

Finally, just a block from home, a neighbor was riding the other way. We chatted for a bit, enjoyed a beer on his back porch, and discussed motorcycles, golf, and aging. Turns out he’s had an entire career in law enforcement and is now doing something entirely unrelated that he also enjoys.

Bicycles (theirs and mine) made each interaction possible: by enriching the interaction, providing an excuse for a meeting, or simply by putting us in the right place at the right moment.

I believe I will always keep a bicycle at hand.