Once upon a time, last Sunday, I set out to ride my bicycle up Larch Mountain. Ed contacted me, via electronic mail, that he and two Randos were planning to join this bicycle ride.
We were to meet at Velocult at ten am. At quarter to ten, not nearly enough time to get there on time, I departed.
Already breathless, northbound on 52nd Avenue, I saw two Rando riders. They waved frantically. I wanted to blow their waves away like the wind, but they tugged at my heart strings. So, I u-turned.
"We meet at Velocult! Not my house!" I gasped, turning back around to continue my northward sprint. They followed, listening to me and disagreeing as I told them my heavy bike made me slow.
We arrived at the Velocult. Already arrived was one young Rando In Training. As we drank our black pour-over Portlandia coffee, beeepbeeepbeeepbeeep, I heard an incoming text message on my telephone.
It was Ed. He and the Randos would not be riding. Who, then, were these random Randos, who joined and rode with us most of the way?
One of them pointed north, mumbling something about Mershon Road and the "beautiful bowl" up there. Hence, a new ride was born. The Bowl Ride, 2012.