a ride, not a race

Mauri and I rode the Portland BridgePedal again today. “Again” to Mauri means for the third time; to me the second time. It meant setting our alarm for 5 a.m. It meant taking parts off of our bike so it would fit in the van—then putting them back.

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It might have been a difficult ride without pedals.

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Documenting the start.


This brings perspective to the number: 18,000 riders. We inched our way forward for an entire hour before starting out.

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The bridges of course are the main attraction, but riding the interstate is equally cool.

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As the captain of our vehicle, Mauri gets a medal for bravery and patience. Not all riders embrace the idea of sharing the road and would pull out or stop right in front of us. I own a new appreciation for the pack riders in the Tour de France.

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Six bridges on a unicycle. I can’t imagine.

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We saw some sights.

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And we were also quite a sight! People of all ages would comment on our unusual bike. One called it weird. But look there! Another recumbent tandem! We weren’t alone in our weirdness.

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Now those are truly recumbent bikes!

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There, after 24 miles, the finish line! We weren’t the first to cross it, but it doesn’t matter—it was a ride not a race.

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2 Responses to a ride, not a race

  1. Amazing! Two new knees for Mauri and your back surgery what an accomplishment. 24 miles—loved the photos and you should give each other extra hugs. Loved the photos and todays journey with the smiling faces.

  2. Marcile says:

    Yea for you. I love all the mirror/cameo shots.

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