Up ahead we finally saw the sea of nude begin to undulate in a way that made us think it might be go time. The drum section of a marching band was there to see us off and the drums began the rat a tat let’s move beats. People hurriedly got themselves situated on the bicycles and placed a foot on the peddle, ready to start the ride. Then we all shuffled forward awkwardly with our bicycles under us trying to avoid scuffing anyone’s vulnerable bare skin. Slowly we were able to actually mount our bikes and peddle as we made it past the drums and they nearly knocked my off my bike with a ginormous drum roll as I passed them.
This giant crowd of naked cyclists was bottlenecking out onto the street and already there were people on the sidelines cheering us on. Someone started a chant “LESS GAS MORE ASS! LESS GAS MORE ASS” and the crowd shouted along with them. There were police blocking traffic and the usual chirps and siren wails that go along with that, and then finally… the open road.
We all peddled furiously, so pleased to finally be moving. Flesh in motion, muscles in use, naked went mobile into the streets. And it was glorious. I really do love bike riding. Topless doesn’t take away from that. I did keep thinking something was on my lower back…. I was right - it was my hair. It really is getting pretty long. And I gotta tell ya - it kept my nipples warmer than they would have been otherwise.
Everyone was smiling as we cruised through mostly quiet streets with only a few well wishers on the sidelines here and there. People were giddy with nudity. People were joyful about having the street all to ourselves. People were high on the night air whispering along all their naked bits. There were some “WOOOOO!”s and titters and over all I would describe this part of the ride as carefree summer fun.
Around then we made our way to 23rd, known to be a college types “cool” street with bars and a nightlife. The sidewalks were overflowing with drunk people cheering and offering high fives. The road slopes up so we were all focused on making it up the hill. (naked people straining in public!) I didn’t know how to change the gears on the bike so I had to stand to make it but most of the riders are experienced and probably would have rathered die than stand on their peddles in front of the gawking throngs alongside us. We were able to maintain our pace and Deon and I agreed that when you’re naked and people are staring there’s really only one thing to do and that is to smile.
There must have been some naked drama… we passed a naked man being lifted off the pavement onto a stretcher and I don’t think I care to know what happened to that brave soul. Imagining the road rash is enough for me. I spotted someone’s underpants abandoned on the street and wondered if they were lost willingly. People on the sidelines were beginning to shed their clothes, ladies in bras and couples casually standing arm and arm buck naked with drinks in their hands. And everywhere, absolutely everywhere were cameras. Every tom dick and harry has a motherfucking camera these days. I assured Deon we were likely nothing more than a blur of pixels but there were professional cameras too. One man had a tripod for fucks sake. “Smile for me sweetheart.” someone pleaded and I flipped him the bird on my way by only to receive cheers.
Thankfully we turned and started down hill on Burnside heading for the heart of downtown nightlife. And I do mean down hill. Hair streaming out behind us we blasted down one of the busiest streets downtown alongside cars parked with people hanging out their windows laughing with their jaws dropped as thousands of naked cyclists flew past, many of them with squealing breaks and tiny tinny bells ringing.
Periodically I would lose Deon and try to find her amongst other people… difficult when everyone is nude. Then I would find her behind me and she would grin and wave and I would say “There’s my naked sisser.” and we’d continue on. Until the stopping started.
June 14, 2009
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