Potato Diaries, Days 5-7: Connecting Loose Ends and Finally Riding in Boise

I've ended up combining days five through seven together here. I just couldn't get to posting and I've had some issues with connectivity on the computer, so it is what it is. But, here we are now. Three days, smashed together. If you've missed out on the prior posts, Day 1 is here, Day 2 is here, Day 3 is here and Day 4 can be found here.

Day Five:

I keep saying that I have plans to get to Boise to ride, and it just never seems to happen. For one reason or another, there's always an excuse not to get there. Now, time is slipping away and I don't want to miss out on riding in the actual city before I'm gone. Not that I can't or won't return, but it would be nice to actually ride there during this trip.

Yesterday, I was supposed to go into Boise to ride. That didn't happen. The day just got away from me and it was one of those when an hour feels like a minute. Those days are rough because nothing seems to get accomplished. Since things were moving a bit fast, I decided to go back and further explore the Nampa greenway system to try to make some sense of it.

An earlier post highlighted the fact that the map I received shows not only the path that is currently constructed, but also future plans for the greenway. I wanted to see how well the current version works and if the actual greenway is less confusing than the map makes it seem.

The plan was to ride from one side of the city to the other, hopefully only using the greenway, but that didn't quite work out. From the southeast side of the city to the northwest side, there are several locations that drop off suddenly. One of the connections uses surface streets, but the main artery is actually on a very busy road (it's a highway that turns into a street in the city, and spans five lanes through town) and users really find themselves sticking to the sidewalk unless they want to take a pretty great risk of getting hit on the road (I did see one person doing this, so it's not impossible). There are several cars pulling out of parking lots too, so riding on the sidewalk is probably just as potentially dangerous.

One part of the Nampa trail system. The dotted lines indicate future pathways, but unfortunately the map doesn't seem to be entirely accurate and it also leaves riders and walkers in random places without directions in certain spots.

As I was trying to calculate where to go (the signs are somewhat usable, but seem to be placed in areas that make it a little difficult to find them in some spots), I was pedaling on the road and saw a woman in front of me who looked vaguely familiar, but I passed it off as a coincidence. This happens often when I travel. I frequently see people who look like other people I know, so I tend to not make much of these situations.

As we came closer together the woman smiled and said, "Hey! Dog lady!" Realizing that she recognized me too, I took a better glance. It was the same woman who had stopped on Day 3 to help find the owner of the loose dogs roaming the street. We had a very brief conversation and off I went, still trying to connect to the next portion of the path. Had I had any sort of awareness, I should've asked the woman I'd just been talking to, but that hadn't occurred to me in the moment.

Eventually, I found a path again - whether it was what I was looking for or not, I'm still not entirely certain. But, then I was soon back on roads again as it just dumped me in the middle of nothing. I ended up riding the streets for awhile and then heading back to the house.

Ultimately, there are several sections of the Nampa trail that seem to drop off into nothingness. It's unfortunate because it seems like a great way to actually get through this area, but at the present time, it appears to have limitations for usability throughout different parts of the city.

Day 6:

The plan (as had been the plan for several days to this point) was to get the dogs worn out early so that I could go and ride in Boise. I took an extra amount of time to ensure that they would be nice and tired so that leaving them for a few hours wouldn't be a huge deal. Unfortunately, my plan seemed to backfire and when we returned from what should've been an exhausting walk for the dogs, they seemed to have more energy than before we left. Ugh. My plan to shape up these two little pups was definitely working against me.

Instead, I took the dogs with me to Boise and figured we could walk the greenway together and get an idea of what it's like. Plus, I figured if it didn't seem like a good place to ride, I could always choose another spot when I came back without them.

The timing of our arrival could not have been worse though. We arrived to the greenway just about the time everyone was going to lunch, so there were walker, joggers and cyclists everywhere. On one hand I thought this was so fantastic. To have such a great space that so many people want to use is truly wonderful; however, I had three dogs pulling in three different directions and people trying to pass us, especially those on bicycles, weren't too happy with attempting to avoid running over the dogs.

Boise Green Bike docking station on the greenway. What a perfect place to have these for visitors and locals alike!

I noticed right away that Boise's bike share has a dock on the greenway (and several others as well). If only I could've thrown the three dogs on the bike with me, things would've been so much easier!

It's so cool to see a large river running right through a city. I know there are other cities with large rivers, but it's been awhile since I've experienced something like this firsthand.

There was so much green all around. This had been what I remembered of Boise from years ago, so it was exciting to see that the green still very much remains. Green and more green was definitely the theme. That and people. Lots and lots of people.

The Boise Greenbelt path ... and a Golden Retriever who just couldn't resist staying out of my photo. I took advantage of the brief moment when there weren't people passing in every direction.

The pathway itself is really nice too. There are spots that are in need of some repair, but I think that's a typical find on most MUP's of any significant length. Overall, it seemed to be in pretty decent shape and the fact that there are so many outlets to get users to various destinations around the city is truly fantastic.

Although I really wanted to explore the path more on foot, the dogs were being particularly bad, so I knew that the trip was going to get wrapped up quickly, unfortunately. We said our goodbye to Boise and headed away from all the people and the green.

Day 7:

A week in, and I was pretty convinced that riding in Boise just wasn't going to happen. The universe seemed to be working against me. Today, it was supposed to rain, so that didn't bode well. I don't mind riding in the rain, but it's also been quite windy, so I wasn't sure if I wanted to venture out into that sort of weather. Still, I was determined, so I went to work wearing out the pups and then prepared to get on my way to Boise to ride -- finally.

I got all that I would need together and went to grab the bike. I figured I should probably check the air pressure in the tires (since I hadn't checked it on any of the other rides), but when I went to attach the nozzle, I realized the front tire was completely flat.

Dammit, I thought. The old me would've freaked out and decided it was a bad omen and skipped the ride, but new me decided that this wasn't a big deal (because it isn't) and at least it happened at home so that I could take my time and not have to worry about it on the side of the road. Still, I have pretty puncture proof tires, so the fact that I got a flat was a little annoying. I can't even remember the last time I had a flat on this bike with these tires.

Deep down, I knew it was a goathead without even looking at the tire. Damn you Idaho and your thorny little spiky weeds. We have them at home too, but they seem to be everywhere here in much greater numbers. As I changed the flat I couldn't help but think that Sam would be so proud. There was a time when I would've been calling him crying about the flat tire and telling him I couldn't deal with it. He would've had to talk me off a ledge and then I would've used it as an excuse to avoid riding.

As it turned out, it was in fact a goathead that had broken off and was poking through just the very smallest amount, but enough to puncture the tube. Like I said, I knew what the issue was without even finding it.

The Boise River

Finally, I was off and headed to Boise. I ended up arriving just about the same time as I had with the dogs the day prior, but it would be far less difficult to maneuver through people on a bike than it was with three dogs at my side (or not at my side as the case was).

My plan was to ride a good portion of the greenway and then head off around the city and possibly up into the foothills. It was probably a little ambitious, but I really wanted to see as much as possible of the city while I was there.

Cottonwood fluff -- This was not even close to the worst of it, but I took this picture while I was stopped so that there would be some kind of photo reference.

The first thing I noticed were the enormous number of Cottonwood trees. We have these at home as well and when they are blooming it is one of the most horrible things to deal with for allergy sufferers. Plumes of white fluff littered the pathway and air. My eyes and throat were definitely feeling it.

Nothing would deter me from my ride today though. Not allergies, nor rain or wind, or flat tires.

Remember that lovely Boise bikeway map I'd picked up a few days earlier? That map that was going to see me all around the city and help me out if I happened to get lost? Yep. I left it sitting on the counter at the house. So, I was on my own and knew I'd have to figure out how to connect to places using whatever was available on the trail system.

Different types of river and pond-use items can be rented in this spot.

This greenway in Boise is really a treat to ride. There are so many things going on in various areas and I should've taken far more photos than I did, but you'll just have to take my word for it that it's not only beautiful, but a great spot for all ages to use and hang out. There are different little pond areas, beach areas, spots where people kayak and use stand up paddleboards. People fishing, swimming, using rafts or other flotation devices were all over too. There is even a little shop that rents different river-use products and a place to grab a bite to eat. Frankly, I couldn't help but be a bit jealous that there are so many possibilities in such a central location in the city.

People were "surfing" in this area of the river

Tried to get a photo of one of the surfers, but he was a bit too far away for a decent picture

When I passed one area of the river, I noticed a lovely area where people were "surfing" in the river. Who would've thought? I guess when you want to surf and you're not on a coast, you make things work.

Another really cool feature of the greenway were signs that directed people toward various attractions around the city such as art, food, and other things people would want to see or do. The city (or I suppose county, as I've been told the system is taken care of by Ada County) does a great job of making this a very user-friendly system. There were a couple of times when I wasn't entirely sure what direction to go, but it also didn't matter as I really just wanted to explore the area.

As I continued to ride, things got a little more quiet. I wasn't seeing quite as many people, though there were still walkers, joggers and cyclists to be found. I thought it was extremely pleasant that the majority of the greenway has a lot of trees, so there are few times when there are long stretches of being exposed to the sun.

Continuing on, I wasn't really sure where I was or when the path would end (Note to self: Remember the map next time and you won't have this problem!), but since it was still going, I decided to keep on riding.

I couldn't help but wonder if there were snipers in the bushes, waiting to shoot at me as I rode through this area

Then, things changed. There weren't as many trees and I was exposed much more to the sun. The path was still going though, so I persevered. Signage changed and then became non-existent. Where was I exactly? I hadn't traveled that far. At that point, I was only about 13 miles from my starting point.

The map told the story later - I had wandered into another city.

When I got home later, I would realize that I was almost in Eagle, which is just outside of Boise. Had I continued on about another mile, I would've hit the end of the path, but at that point I was concerned that I needed to get back to the pooches, so I started heading back to the start. I would loved to have had more time to explore. The other side of the river has an entire other stretch of path, and there is a portion that runs farther south-east as well. All told, I believe I read there are approximately 45 miles of pathway to run, walk, and ride. Pretty cool.

Having water next to me for nearly the entire stretch of the ride was really quite a nice feature. At home, there are several cities that have waterways and MUPs that run parallel, but I don't think any are quite like this, even in Denver. Though, the Cherry Creek path is awfully nice and nearly as long, it still can't compare to what is available to users along the Boise River greenway.  Of course, Denver is a completely different city that has built up in a way that made sense for the area.

If I had more time, I would like to have the opportunity to explore Boise more by bike and to ride up to Bogus Basin. I received word that my folks have wrapped up their to-dos and should be home late Friday evening, so I don't know if I'll have that opportunity on this trip -- but, there's always next time. I have one more day to see what I can in this area, so whether it's on foot or bike, I look forward to another day outside.

Potato Diaries, Day Two: No Bike for Me!

As you know after reading yesterday's post, I am dog sitting for my parents in Idaho. What I didn't mention then is how very (very, very, very, very - and did I mention, very) attached my parent's dogs are to them, and specifically my mother. One of the two dogs simply gets mopey and doesn't want to move from his perch where he can look longingly out the window, waiting for her return. The other, while also sad that she is gone, is easier to get moving. However, he has a horrible habit of waking in the middle of the night and alarm-barking at nothing in particular. Of course, being fast asleep myself, this extreme and sudden noise scares the bejesus out of me and then I can't get back to sleep.

So, after being woke a few times this way overnight, I finally got up in the wee hours of the morning, feeling as though I'd been drugged and beaten. I decided that it probably wasn't a great choice to be out on a bicycle since my balance felt off and I feel the need to be very focused on what I'm doing riding the roads here.

Instead, the dogs and I explored the area on foot. Mom's dogs are pretty out of shape. They get regular walks, but very short ones, so taking them any sort of distance becomes an exercise in patience as they need to stop every quarter to half a mile for a breather (thankfully, they're both pretty young, so they recover fast). It makes things challenging to actually get anywhere though. Still, I want to see what is around, so off we went to explore an area around Lake Lowell which borders Caldwell and Nampa, Idaho.

While looking at maps for possible bike routes, I saw that there is a lake in the area and thought it might be an interesting place to visit on a warmer day, so we were off and walking at a spot called Deer Flat National Wildlife Refuge. What I didn't expect was that everything would be so dry. The weather has been moderately wet over the last several weeks, so I assumed that there would be more greenery. Instead, we were greeted by what felt like endless desert tan. I know this area is considered a high desert, but then again, so is Colorado, so I was bit shocked to see so much dryness so early in the season.

There is a certain interest to me though, even in more desert-like scenery. I was taken a bit off guard by how much it reminded me of camping in the California deserts as a kid. But, then again, I'm always a little surprised by how similar different states appear in regard to the terrain and plant life. I suppose it's all more similar than different, but the little differences are what make it interesting, I think.

After the fact, I learned that the greener areas are on the other side of the lake (leave it to me to find the barren land), so I suppose it could explain why more lush plant life seemed to be missing from much of our hiking time.

Early on, we spotted a fenced off area that appears to be a track of some sort. Whether it's used to race dirt bikes, dune buggies or perhaps neither of these was uncertain, but I couldn't help but think the entire hiking trail would be a good place to test out a mountain bike. Unfortunately, that is not the bike I brought along for this trip.

It seems this area is a bird habitat/observatory, as there were several signs that warned users of the path to stay on the trail and to leave the birds alone.  We didn't see many birds (at least up close) while we walked, but they could be seen flying in the distance. Not being a student of fowl, I have absolutely no idea what type of birds were around, but if we get out that way again, I'll try to take better notes and/or photos for those who have interest in such matters.

We took the path up to this overlook because I could see the binoculars for viewing while approaching; however, when I tried to take a look through them, they didn't seem to be operational. This could be entirely user error as I tend to have problems with even the most basic equipment and having three dogs pulling in multiple directions wasn't helping matters.

Much of the trail is dusty - or at least the portion we walked. Again, I'm told that other portions of the lake are greener, so if we get out that way again, we'll have to investigate. I'd also like to figure out a good path to ride here, if possible.

Having stopped into one of the bike shops today to inquire about rides that shouldn't be missed in the area, they didn't have any helpful information to give, but rather provided me the city bike map. The problem is that while the map's helpful to find the paths around town that allow riders and walkers to avoid city surface streets, I was hoping to find some longer rides to experience.

My hope is to also get in to Boise proper at some point. Perhaps early in the week when the weekend traffic has dispersed back to 9-5's I can find a way into the city to see if there are better rides there.

Of interest to me personally is the difference in how the day's temperatures progress here. Being approximately 800 miles away from home (which isn't so great a distance to make me think things would be terribly different), I find that the days start and stay cool much longer than at home. For example, this morning was in the low 50F degree range and it stayed fairly cool until about 2p or so before it really heated up. At home, as soon as the sun is visible, things start to warm quickly, and even if the actual temperature isn't too high, it feels hot much sooner in the day during spring and summer.

My guess is that it has to do with the altitude difference. I've kind of taken the elevation in Colorado pretty lightly over the years, as it doesn't affect me on a day to day basis, but I hear people joke about being closer to the sun, so perhaps there's validity in these statements and explains why it takes a bit longer to warm up here in Idaho.

I'm looking forward to getting back on a bike tomorrow and hopefully finding some roads better suited to traveling by bicycle. While traversing the city today I actually exclaimed aloud, "Hey! A bike lane!" Nearly as soon as the words were spoken, the lane disappeared, but it was nice to see that they actually do exist. Maybe that bike map will come in handy after all.


**Day 3 can be found here.

Acceptable Prejudice

Dear Mr. Marketing-Dude [Not actual name, in case that isn't obvious],

I'm responding to an e-mail you sent a few weeks ago in which you inquired as to why my last purchase at [establishment name] took place over a year ago. I'd thought I wouldn't send anything in response, but after some time to consider further, I believe I will. Even knowing going in that nothing will likely come from this note, I do think it's important to voice opinions in order to see change, so here I go...

And so this letter, sent several weeks ago, began -- even though I started and stopped many times before actually hitting "send." I wanted to express my opinion about lack of size options for a variety of individuals, but I seemed to find myself hesitating because I know that little changes in the cycling industry when it comes to what is being supplied to those in need of non-standard sizing (smaller or larger). Additionally, I grow weary of sending similar sounding notes to various manufacturers. It's exhausting to waste my breath (key-strokes?) trying to explain something to a group of people that seem to not understand at all.

Neither of the individuals in our home have an easy time finding cycling clothing. One often can't find clothing small enough, and the other struggles to find items on the larger end of the spectrum (being a male and smaller than average is nearly as bad as being a female who extends beyond a U.S. size large), and I wanted to express this to the marketing individual who had reached out (granted, in the form of a mass e-mail that I'm sure was sent to everyone who hadn't purchased from the company in some time).

What amused me most was that there was a swift response directing me to something that doesn't exist in their inventory, and that also didn't address 75% of what I had written about in the letter. Besides that, is ONE item supposed to suffice as inventory? For once in my life, I'd been concise so as to not eat up the day of the person reading my letter, but I still felt as though I received a canned/brush-off response. I'm used to this though. No one seems to have follow through. Customer service is lacking almost anywhere. From the grocery store to big box home improvement, or brick-and-mortar retail to Amazon, I find few who are willing to actually do even the very basic necessities of their jobs.

More frustrating than anything is the internal battle/argument I have before attempting to address a situation. In the weeks prior to sending the above letter, I debated myself, trying to decide whether it was futile or not to respond to such an e-mail, but I know that if nothing is said then changes never materialize.

Over the years, I've written and called many companies expressing a desire (not only for myself, but for others as well) to expand their current size line for cycling, hiking, and other outdoor wear. While I often get some sort of response, it is almost never a response that takes any of my comments into consideration, nor will these organizations acknowledge that there is a need that isn't being met.

Another example of this was an e-mail sent to a different cycling wear company back in May of this year. I had purchased a pair of mountain biking shorts online. For those who fit into standard sizing, finding a pair of women's mountain biking shorts is not a big deal. These folks can walk into nearly any local bike shop and find something that will fit their needs. If, however, you are a female who needs shorts larger than about a U.S. size 12, you can pretty much forget about ever finding something in a shop, or even in all the vast and far reaches of the world wide web.

So, when I saw these seemingly fabulous mountain bike shorts on the company's website that stated they would fit me (per the size chart), I was ecstatic! Hurrah! Hurray! Finally!!! After searching for nearly a decade for mountain bike shorts, a company was finally creating something that would fit my body!

According to the size chart, I should have plenty of room in my usual size, but I decided to go up one size to ensure that I'd have lots of extra room, if needed.

Alas, when the shorts arrived, it was a comedic sketch-in-the-making. First, when I pulled the shorts out of their packaging, they were as flimsy a material as I've ever felt. Lighter than even the thinnest swim suit I've ever seen, thinner than the skimpiest of running shorts, I was shocked at the lack of substance to this product.

But, I still wanted to give them a chance. Even if they were lighter than I'd anticipated, finding a mountain bike short that fits has been a near-impossibility. As I unfolded the shorts and prepared to put them on they seemed small visually, but this is often typical of cycling clothing. I proceeded to pull and tug in an attempt to affix these shorts to my body with great effort. Eventually, they were on my body, but they were certainly not usable in any fashion as a mountain bike short, as I could barely button them and they were excruciatingly tight.

I cannot begin to express my disappointment. With a sigh, I packed the shorts back up and put them in a return envelope.

A level of frustration and annoyance had taken over at this point and I decided that I was not going to let this go without some kind of response. I sat down and typed out a letter, expressing my dissatisfaction with a company that I had once found to be one of the few organizations that supplied cycling clothing to women with more meat on their bodies, and in particular, I wanted to express my concerns with this particular garment.

I relayed that I have other pieces purchased a few years prior from their brand that are smaller in size and still fit fine. I expressed my disappointment with the quality of the fabric as well, and also advised that perhaps using a larger sized model might help with future iterations of clothing in larger sizes (since I'd even purchased up a size from their chart measurements and still could barely squeeze the shorts on). None of my remarks were said in anger, but were expressed in a manner that I hoped would be helpful to future lines of clothing and to assist the organization in potentially adjusting their size chart (which was definitely not accurate).

Before I sent the letter though, I decided to try ordering another pair, simply to see if I'd received a short that was a blemish or somehow cut incorrectly. Unfortunately, I had the exact same results, so off the letter went in both my return envelope and via e-mail. I wanted to make sure that the information was received, as I know that not everyone is willing to take the time to express problems directly to companies.

The response I received was shockingly argumentative and frankly, almost hostile. Instead of taking in my concerns and presenting a thoughtful response, this representative decided that she would rather have an electronic battle of wills, telling me that I was wrong and that their organization already uses a plus-size model for their larger sizes.

Her lengthy response hit on almost none of what I had addressed and she read into my words far too much, making assumptions about aspects that I hadn't even remotely thought. I could only assume that she was either having a very bad day or simply was accustomed to hearing only positive comments about their garments and therefore wasn't prepared to respond to someone who simply had a few constructive critiques to provide for the future (and, I even stated that I simply wanted to express my personal experience).

Having two such interactions with cycling companies in a relatively short amount of time is off-putting (to say the least), but it's just a surface scratch of the issue. It isn't just these two companies, nor is it limited only to cycling clothing manufacturers and businesses. Although I'd guess unintentional, over time, these types of responses from organizations direct a person to believe that s/he is alone in a battle that isn't going to produce a win or even small amounts of change, and often lead to thoughts of being unworthy of appropriate clothing for regularly engaged-in activities.

A few weeks ago, I was looking for some information on training to do a half Ironman race. It's something I've thought of doing for several years, but I've always hesitated because running is not something that agrees with my body (A messed up back/pelvis/hips, and genetically fragile knees don't make for the best runner in the world, especially carrying extra weight). Whether or not I'll actually try this is still up for debate, but I like to have information at the ready, just in case I do decide to give it a go.

As I was looking for training information, I happened upon a few-year-old thread that almost immediately sent me into fired-up mode. It started innocently enough with a person asking a question about how someone could be fat and complete an Ironman. For those unfamiliar with this type of race it consists of a 2.4 mile (3.8 km) swim, 112 mile (180.25 km) bike ride and ends with a 26.2 mile (42.16 km) run, all completed within a specified time frame (from what I've seen, usually racers have 17 hours to finish, with time cut-offs throughout the event that could end the race earlier for an individual).

The responses that the original poster received were many and varied, though most were extremely derogatory toward fat individuals. I was surprised that whomever was moderating the thread was willing to let many of the comments through, until I remembered that prejudices and these types of comments toward fat individuals are the last acceptable form of hatred (sizeism, fat phobia, etc) in the U.S. Everything from people stating that the time frame for completion needed to be lowered to "keep fatties out" of the race, to suggesting that the only foods an individual could be eating while training that hard and stay fat would have to be ice cream, pizza and cake.

You can imagine the other sort of talk that was taking place in this forum, so I won't go into it further (mostly because it just gets me worked up again). All that I could think while reading these comments was How dare you say such things about someone training to and completing a massive goal! and What business is it of yours what someone eats? I seriously doubt anyone is living on pizza and cake when training for any kind of event - Ironman or otherwise - or they'd be very sick and incapable! and So, because someone doesn't complete a goal in the same amount of time as you do, it invalidates their effort, training and accomplishment? There were other thoughts as well, but you can easily see where my mind was going as I perused the very long list of individuals who were judging those that they believed shouldn't be allowed to compete in these types of events.

While this likely sounds like a lot of ranting (and it is, at least in part), occasionally I feel the need to put something here to remind myself and others that this is not an acceptable way to treat each other. Whether an organization that doesn't want to produce product for a certain population, or an individual who is spouting off anonymously (or otherwise) online, this kind of thinking and speaking doesn't provide anything positive or constructive.

Why do we as humans feel the need to make others feel lesser in order to make ourselves feel better, stronger, faster? Why does trying to invalidate someone else's accomplishment make our completion of a goal better or cause us to feel more worthy? How does tearing someone else down improve our own idea of self?

If you haven't seen it, check out this story about a plus-size model who confronted a man on a plane who was sending comments via text to a friend about her body size before a flight to Los Angeles. It's a short video, so it's a quick watch, but it assists in illustrating my point: society at large finds it completely acceptable to body shame those who are fat; and for some reason, it seems to be more acceptable to do this to females than males. Of course, that could be an entirely extended discussion about gender bias in this country as well.

I am by no means perfect, and I understand that we are all surrounded by imperfect humans. I also accept that we are each going to do or say things that we will later regret or feel differently about than at the time a statement was said or an action was made. But, how do we change the dialogue that takes place, particularly in a web-focused, easy-to-be-anonymous world, so that attitudes begin to change and hatred for others dissipates? How is a world created where we appreciate each other's differences and embrace the reality that we excel in different areas of life?

Here in this space, we come together over a love of bicycles and riding. I have no doubt that we are all of different stature, ethnicity, and weight. We come from different upbringing and backgrounds. We have different religious and political beliefs. We have different careers. Some are single, married, have children or don't. Some are gay, straight, bisexual, or transgender. Some train for cycling events, some are happy to ride for transportation only, and others can't stay off a bicycle no matter the purpose.  Regardless, we can come together over a shared love or appreciation. I suppose I find it challenging to understand why this cannot spread to other areas of life. Maybe it can.