Critical Mass
I got to Westlake Center about 5:30 yesterday. Some 300 people with bicycles, probably half or so affiliated with Critical Mass, about half friends and family of Susanne Scaringi, a young woman cyclist who was killed on Wednesday in a bike/car collision, were milling about waiting for the CM ride to take place.
Many of those who knew Susanne were wearing freshly-made t-shirts with her picture and nickname, “Nanne Girl” on them; that really choked me up. There was a slightly awkward moment when her brother, in thanking everyone for coming out, asked people to join him in prayer, but what the hell, he’d just lost his sister, so whatever he needed to do was okay.
The impressive mass of cyclists eventually flowed from the Center and around downtown. I felt like I was pedaling through molasses as we oozed forward; it was a friendly molasses, though, with lots of familiar faces and bikes.
The ride took us, at its incredibly leisurely pace, to West Seattle and the spot where Susanne was killed. There, we participated in a lovely candlelight vigil that would have been lovelier still had the giant news truck covering the event turned off its diesel engine.
Afterwards, a group of .83 riders joined me at the Beveridge Place Pub to drink up the remaining beer credit I had from the Patchkit Alleycat last weekend. We rode as a group to Alki Beach, where Susanne’s family was continuing a small memorial service for her.
My favorite part of the evening was riding in a formation from West Seattle back downtown; I got separated from the group for a while and had an adventuresome solo trek before meeting up again near Pine and Third.
The evening was capped off at midnight with a race around Greenlake, no lights for the brave.
I got home at 2:00; eight fun, funny, and poignant hours out and about on two wheels.
Surely there are bikes in Susanne’s heaven.
Many of those who knew Susanne were wearing freshly-made t-shirts with her picture and nickname, “Nanne Girl” on them; that really choked me up. There was a slightly awkward moment when her brother, in thanking everyone for coming out, asked people to join him in prayer, but what the hell, he’d just lost his sister, so whatever he needed to do was okay.
The impressive mass of cyclists eventually flowed from the Center and around downtown. I felt like I was pedaling through molasses as we oozed forward; it was a friendly molasses, though, with lots of familiar faces and bikes.
The ride took us, at its incredibly leisurely pace, to West Seattle and the spot where Susanne was killed. There, we participated in a lovely candlelight vigil that would have been lovelier still had the giant news truck covering the event turned off its diesel engine.
Afterwards, a group of .83 riders joined me at the Beveridge Place Pub to drink up the remaining beer credit I had from the Patchkit Alleycat last weekend. We rode as a group to Alki Beach, where Susanne’s family was continuing a small memorial service for her.
My favorite part of the evening was riding in a formation from West Seattle back downtown; I got separated from the group for a while and had an adventuresome solo trek before meeting up again near Pine and Third.
The evening was capped off at midnight with a race around Greenlake, no lights for the brave.
I got home at 2:00; eight fun, funny, and poignant hours out and about on two wheels.
Surely there are bikes in Susanne’s heaven.
posted by Professor Dave at 11:38 AM
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