I must admit I hadn't remembered the date. I recalled reading about it long ago but totally forgot about it. So last night when I was dog-tired and wanting only to get on my PJs and snuggle up with a good book, I got up, donned my gear, fired up Queenie and took off for a short ride. It was Friday night, after 8pm. Downtown Chicago. The weather was warm (low 60s) enough to fill the streets with strolling couples, tourists and local residents walking their pint-sized, wanna-be dogs. Traffic was robust. I rode down the Mag Mile—there is no other city as beautiful, particularly at night. Period.
Went to Whole Foods and met a guy who works in the fish department. I asked him about the soup, which he told me was seafood gumbo but really turned out to be fish chowder, which had it not been superb, I would have returned to the store. He asked me what kind of bike I rode and this led to a banter about motorcycles. Turns out, he’s wanted to ride for a long time. He’s now a bicyclist. Increasingly, I’m meeting people who were serious bicyclists before they gravitated to motorcycling. He’s interested in taking a safety course so I was happy to recommend Ride-Chicago. We talked safety and gear for awhile. He sounds like a good one to add to our ranks.
While my support of National Female Ride Day was brief, I did participate in my own small way. The calendar is marked for next year. Perhaps then, I can do something more befitting.