Wednesday, May 20, 2015

Ride of Silence

Last year Patrick and I took part in the Ride of Silence, a bike ride to bring awareness to the deaths and injuries of cycling victims while they were using public roadways.  This year we were again able to take part in this global event.  
 
Gavel Girlz and Guyz

For those who have never been a part of this event it is an overwhelmingly emotional event. Our local event has many speakers, including the wife of a gentleman who lost his life due to a distracted driver who was texting.  The wife talks of how the driver didn't even know "what" he had hit. This family is one of many to tell stories of the loss of husbands, dads, brothers, sisters, moms, grandparents, and so on.  

Additionally another gentleman spoke about the needs for us as cyclist to be good road sharers.  We need to follow all rules of the road.  We need to be aware of our surroundings.  we need to signals our moves.  We need to pay attention when passing in areas where a car might be turning.  We have to make ourselves visible and we have to be aware.  

After these testimonies the Ride of Silence poem was read: 

Tonight we number many but ride as one
In honor of those not with us, friends, mothers, fathers, sisters, sons
With helmets on tight and heads down low,
We ride in silence, cautious and slow
The wheels start spinning in the lead pack
But tonight we ride and no one attacks
The dark sunglasses cover our tears
Remembering those we held so dear
Tonight's ride is to make others aware
The road is there for all to share
To those not with us or by our side,
May God be your partner on your final ride. 


This is where things become emotional.  As the cyclist line up side by side in opposing rows, up the middle of the group a hearse begins to move.  Then two by two the cyclist take off behind the hearse.  Up the road we ride, in silence.  The only sounds are the spinning of our wheels, clicking of pedals, and shifting of gears.  

Here in this quiet, in the tail lights of the hearse which carries the memories of those no longer able to push the pedals, here for me my mind remembers the close calls and one accident had by a friend of mine who I was riding with.  The memories of that accident come back strong for me on this ride, tied in with the memories of being told Patrick had fallen on the race course.   During that late summer beach ride my friend had pulled ahead with a strong tail wind.  When I saw her she had been down for about two minutes, there was a car stopped on the other side of the road and persons out of the vehicle trying to help.  There was no car stopped in the direction she was traveling.  911 had already been called.  As I slammed the breaks and jumped from my bike, she was coming too.  She didn't recognize me at first.  Then she became very certain we were going for ice cream.  She hit her head and shoulder hard onto the pavement.  In time she would remember there being a truck.  She would remember it clipping her and then nothing more till she was in the ambulance.  Thanks to her helmet and only a tap by the truck, she walked out of the hospital with no broken bones, just a bruised up face and road rashed shoulder.  While these were still significant and took time to heal, the emotional wounds took much more time to heal.  It took time for her to get back onto the bike.  To this day I pass that spot and I know that this spot nearly took my friend, because one truck got too close. 


The other ever lasting emotion, which came on today and comes on every time we line up to race, is the memory of hearing that Patrick had taken a fall during a race.  While this was not caused by a vehicle it was caused by hazardous road conditions and another cyclist not being mindful.  Patrick was able to get back up and push on during the race.  He finished the race with a broken rib and a few scrapes.  My heart never stopped fearing the possibility of something happening to Patrick out there on the road, whether I am there with him or we are out on our own riding.  

I tell you my experiences in hopes that when you read this and think about cyclist on the road you will remember that you know me.  You will remember than I am someone's wife, sister, daughter, aunt, and friend.  You will remember that I wish you get home safely.  You will remember that I, we, are not on the road to annoy or bother you.  You will remember to give us a little room.  You will remember that we bleed, that our hearts can stop beating, and that life can be forever changed in a split second.  


Thank you for watching for us.  Thank you for following the rules.  Thank you for valuing the lives of us all.