Midnight Mystery Ride

destination: "We meet, greet, gather and drink. At midnght, we ride."
mileage: 16.16 miles (to the ride, the ride itself, and then home)
actual ride time: 1 hour, 37 minutes, 18 seconds
average speed: 9.9
maximum speed: 32.4
end result: zoobomb!

Leaving the house some time after 11:30 at night isn't that uncommon for The Boy and I, although returning at 3:00 in the morning is. The Midnight Mystery Ride has been going on in these parts for a while now, but I've yet to be in on it. With Pedalpalooza picking up steam, I figured that tonight was a night as good as any. We donned our cumulative six lights, saddled up against the protestations of angry muscles from yesterdays ride (not long so much as prolonged), and hit the pavement.

The growing mob outside of a bar on Burnside was getting antsy when we rolled up with just a few minutes to spare. Soon, the hooting and the hollering and the bell jingling hit an apex and we rolled. . . all the way across the street into the parking lot of a very confused Blockbuster Video. The sudden shift in locales was more entertaining than anything, as it was abrupt and unchoreographed, briefly stopping traffic with looks from drivers that were more perplexed than anything else. As a matter of fact, the midnighteyness of the ride really opened things up for the pack of us. Everyone was truly having a drunken good time.

Only problem was that every time we would get going, something would grind us to a halt. We took off once again en masse, speeding down Burnside, turning against lights, and baffling traffic some more, but turned onto a side street and stopped at a beer store. The Boy and I had sped downtown in order to make the ride, so my adrenaline was high, and all the stopping and starting was frustrating. The crowd grew boisterous again, and when we finally took off, it was all cool air and spinning pedals and relief at finally moving.

We turned off Burnside behind a cop who wasn't the least bit impressed with us, going so far as to almost ignore the wild pack of loonies cruising past him through a stop light. I heard later that another cop with his window down had asked who we were. When the response was, "Midnight mystery ride! Whoo!" he replied, "Oh, okay," rolled up his window, and proceeded on.

As did we, up several hills (one of which I should, by all rights, still be attempting to summit), occasionally to backtrack in either the name or the spirit of confusion. When we finally arrived at the Goose Hollow MAX station, the growing murmurs in the crowd confirmed my theory that we were about to zoobomb. We waited again, this time for a train to arrive, and also while a headcount was taken. Figuring there was no way to fit 90+ wackos and their bikes onto one train, the decision was made to split the group, while those arriving first to the zoo would wait for the second batch to catch up. Concurrently, the decision was made at the back of the line that anybody not making the first train would give up and either head home or ride elsewhere as a splinter faction. The One A.M. Mystery ride, 2nd Infantry, perhaps.

When the train finally showed, one head after another turned until everyone on the cars was staring at the riffraff outside. The doors opened, and The Boy and I made a break for the back door of the last car, loading our bikes as fast as possible, and turning to watch the melée of everyone else doing the same. The driver managed to keep the doors open until every last rider was on, and we may even have been able to fit more people. The doors slid shut and we were on our way.

Part Two to follow. . .