w o n d e r
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Tuesday, December 6
Disappearing Rider
The first couple times I crossed a certain fellow commuter coming the other direction on the Springwater path I flashed my full "good morning" smile at him, only to get no response back. That's O.K., not everyone is in such a jovial mood at 7:15 in the morning. But every morning, like clockwork, there he was riding towards me at just about the same point on the path. And every morning I'd give him my happy bike smile just like all the other riders get from me. A few weeks into our brief daily meetings he started giving me a friendly nod back. Then eventually it became a familiar smile/nod, sometimes with a quick rise of the hand off the bars. I liked that- it was sort of like I was finally in his club... he knew I wasn't like the many we see out there twice and never again, a commuting promise broken after the first rain like a New Year's resolution in February. We were the troopers, the battle scarred soldiers fighting for a cleaner, healthier Portland.
After we'd cross paths, I'd often spend the rest of the last 2 or so miles on the path wondering who he is, where he's biking to, what he's thinking when I smile at him. Very occasionally I wouldn't see him at all, and I'd wonder if he was staying home for the day, or maybe took the day off to go float the river. Does he have another bike for weekend rides? On the long, flat Spingwater stretch you seem to fall into a hypnotic state of pedaling rhythm, and these random trivial thoughts often take over.
A few months ago I realized I hadn't seen him for a few days. Maybe he's on vacation. A few weeks went by, and no bike path friend. Strange that I don't even know him, but he was part of my routine for so long that I felt like I knew him well. I keep hearing about cyclists getting hit by cars around town, and can't help but wonder if he's been a victim of one of those accidents. Of course, he could have switched jobs, moved, changed working hours... anything. It's not that I'm worried, I just have another 2 miles on this path before I turn onto the Hawthorne bridge, and my mind has nothing else to do but wander.
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~peace~
kazimar the wanderer