We’re Jammin’

My first PVD Bike Jam, and the glory of social bike rides

Somewhere in Olneyville, I start trading small-talk with a giant banana.

“I’m enjoying all the 20-inch wheels on this ride,” says the banana, laughing jovially.

I also laugh jovially. We’re both riding compact bikes with tiny wheels. His is a candy-colored fixie. Mine is a Dahon folding bike.

“I gotta say,” I say, “I love the costume.”

“Thanks, man!” chortles the giant banana, and he pedals away, lost in a river of cyclists.

A banana outfit is hardly the goofiest thing I’ve seen tonight. I’ve pedaled alongside vampires, disco dancers, superheroes, and living skeletons. One burly guy is dressed as a Beany Baby, another as a chicken. Beetlejuice and Jason Voorhees pop in and out of vision. One woman wears the regal dress and powdered wig of Marie Antoinette. A guy is wearing a giraffe costume so unwieldy I can’t believe he’s upright. Spokes and frames are dotted in Christmas lights, and trailing behind are wings and veils and tresses. But the vast majority are zombies — pale, haggard, and spattered with blood. This is the Zombie Ride, after all. Undead is in.

And then there’s me, dressed as — myself.