Tuesday (Weekend roundup): Vermont House, 328

Friday night I caught Virginia Reed at the Vermont House, ran into SayCheeseAndDie, and tucked in around two in the morning. Saturday was going to be a big day.







On Saturday morning I began my epic all day ride. Left the house later than I wanted to (Had to run around gathering snacks, gathering ammunition, and eating a big breakfast), pointed toward Venice Beach, and wasn't too worried about making it on time.

Sitting out at Venice with a herd of cyclists around me, the sunshine beaming into my face, my pink bike at my side, and with eleven miles already under my belt, I felt divine. With the rides' banners raised high, folks wielding water guns, and a bike joust taking place before me, the day had the feeling of summer camp and the sort of childlike excitement that precedes a fantastic imagination adventure. There's an element to these rides that draws the whimsy out of people and the air is alive with magic and energy.

I unexpectedly ran into a friend from high school and a fellow I'd met on my bike riding through Hollywood, so even though I'd arrived a lone wolf, I had already found companions. The rides raised their flags and called their departures, and off we went.

On a stop my high school friend split a sunshine baked pumpkin pie with me. I knew it would sit well in my belly, spreading its warmth throughout. We rode to a park, where we smoked and watched some fixie kids taunt each other into more and more outrageous stunts, until they were attacked with a swarm of water balloons. They may have their teenage youth, but we've got a few tricks up our sleeves as well.

I had my heart-shaped glasses on and in that air, all was full of love and happiness.

As the day progressed, I steadily fought my growing fatigue with Cliff bars and water. The sunshine had reached my brain and combined with the endorphins, I was simply euphoric. Many times I thought I would have to stop to walk a hill, but I pressed on, and never got off my bike. Not once.





The after party found me in a blissful daze, and I ended up crashing at a friend's house nearby. I had been on my bike for nearly twelve hours.

On Sunday the beast of hunger struck me hard, so I got up and went for breakfast at Fred62. I ordered one of their biggest omelets, along with a pancake, and a mimosa, and devoured it all. I decided I hadn't had enough punishment, so I lit a cigarette, put my heart-shaped glasses on, got my pink bike between my legs, and rode up Vermont feeling cool as fuck. Chain slipped on Los Feliz, fixed it, and was up in time to hit the green light down on the other side. Coasted all the way to Hollywood.

At home I took a nap, woke up to go buy the groceries, and then went back to one of the most restful sleeps I have ever had.

Truly one of the most exquisite weekends of my life.