November 15, 2013. I’m about to leave for the Ride With No Name anniversary ride. I’m putting on my makeup and a rush of memories floods my mind and my body gets all warm – five years. We’ve been doing this ride for 5 years. Just this one little ride, which succeeded after another ride ended. And here we are. Friends and companions and lovers and enemies, the stakes might change but the song…well, the song really does remain the same. Another Friday night and we are all together again. Not in the bars. Not at the shows. Not anywhere but in the street and in the night and on our bikes and together.
She brought me cookies and he came to find me and everyone had hugs and smiles to pass around, beer and weed and laughter and loving. Deceit and allure didn’t sit this one out; we’re all implicated in this grand menagerie we’ve built.
Shift, shift, shift night into day before you know it. All that remains is that elusive feel. The caress of muddled memory, the resonance in all your nerve endings of joy and movement and playing leapfrog with the moon.
I dreamt I was moving through the city in a sea of a hundred bikes—no, more—“But it wasn’t a dream. It was a place. And you and you and you…and you were there…” as Dorothy put it, recollecting Oz. “This was a real truly live place and I remember some of it wasn’t very nice, but most of it was beautiful.”