The Road Keeps Going

Saturday morning, I started riding laps around Dillon Reservoir.

Five of them, eventually. One hundred miles.

Some people joined for a lap. Some stayed for more. Some came and went. Somewhere in the middle of all of it, I realized how fitting that was as a way to close out my own summer with Spoke.

Not alone.

This has been one of my favorite summers of my life. I've ridden six centuries this year. I've had some enormous days on a bike. Strangely, when I look back at this summer, my own numbers aren't really what I think about.

I think about everyone else's firsts. I got to ride alongside people completing their first century.

Their first Triple Bypass.
Their first Copper Triangle.
Their longest ride ever.

I got to watch people show up to rides not knowing anyone and, a few hours later, roll back into town as part of a group.

There was the morning roughly 25 of us showed up for our own Copper Triangle adventure. Some taking on the traditional road route while another crew headed off for the Dirty Copper.

There was Triple Bypass, bouncing from aid station to aid station and somehow finding Spoke jerseys and familiar faces everywhere. People regrouping. Meeting up. Helping each other through enormous days.

There were Tuesday nights. Saturday mornings. Mountain bike rides. Big objectives and easy spins.
There was a room full of people at More Than a Ride.
Somehow, unbelievably, there was even a story about this community on CBS.
Then there was Saturday.

Five laps around the lake. People didn't need to ride 100 miles to be part of it. They could jump in for one lap, two laps, whatever worked. Maybe that's actually a pretty good metaphor for what Spoke has become.

You don't have to do all of it to belong here. You just have to show up.

Now, for a little while, I won't be the one showing up.

I'm heading out of Summit County for most of the next two months. I'm not stepping away from the bike. Quite the opposite. I'll be leading bike tours and spending a whole lot of time riding different roads, but I won't be here.

That creates an opportunity.

Spoke was never supposed to be a group where everyone waited for one person to tell them when and where to ride. So if there's a ride you want to do, post it. If you've thought about leading something, lead it. If you want to grab three people, ride around the lake and get coffee afterward, do that.

This community doesn't need permission from me to happen.

I don't think it's time for the full Season 2 reflection yet. There are still beautiful riding days ahead in Summit County, and I'm genuinely curious to see what happens while I'm gone. Maybe that's part of this season's story, too.

For now, I'll just say thank you.
For every Saturday morning.
Every ridiculous climb.
Every first.
Every "I'll meet you there."
Every person who showed up not knowing what they were walking, or riding, into.

One of my favorite summers of my life wasn't because of how many miles I rode.
It was because of how many of them I got to share.

Keep riding. Keep inviting. Keep showing up.

I'll see you when the road bring me home.

Patrick
Founder, Spoke