Adorable

According to the OED, the word “adorable” stems from “ador” + “able,” meaning “worthy of worship;” which is exactly what I was thinking as I watched the crew of miscreants pedal down First ahead of me while passing the safety stick among the usual suspects and admiring Brandon’s spinning cranks—and that just for starters.

Because there was plenty more to fall to one’s knees and shout “hosanna” over before the night was out, including, but not limited to:

• Single-filing through the womb bridge on the Longfellow trail to eventually emerge on a different kind of urban path, Marshall's sidewalk in Westood Village, with nary a broken collarbone in sight.

• Corn on the cob slathered in mayonnaise with grated cheese, cayenne pepper, hot sauce and lime—on a stick! “Get that corn into my face!” Nacho Libre!

• Fire in the shelter at Lincoln Park, stoked so mightily with Dane’s Xtracycle-carried store-bought plastic-wrapped wood bundles that marshmallow toasters had to crouch to the side.

• The long, flat way around Alki, which always seems shorter the later you ride it, especially when there’s that fingernail sliver of moon to admire on the way.

• And, shit! I almost forgot: pitchers, I think, at the O&T, and catching up with lazybones Derrick, I think.

• Some sort of clown race through Belltown failing to find open beer merchants but then a regroup outside an apartment building in lower Queen Anne that yielded many cans and a bottle of Malibu coconut rum.

• Feeling like “this must be Portland” (in a good way) as we rode into a deserted South Lake Union park, right on the water and then, chilled by the offshore breeze, busting out a game of tag to get warm which worked so well it enabled the hearty to carry on until dawn began breaking over Lake Union and those fucking birds started singing and riders split up, heading home after another adorable evening on bikes.