On the way home Thursday, I suddenly remembered I had forgotten to make a phone call before I got on the bike. It is my habit to check in with someone before I traverse the city on my bike because, well, you never know. On this particular evening, I hadn't done that.

When I got to the halfway point, I pulled over and dug my cellphone out of the trailer. I took a moment to relax and observe how the Northwest days are starting to lengthen; in retrospect, I probably spent a little too much time admiring the fading sunset. Regardless, by the time I began dialing, a young man (read: younger than 35, sheesh) on a beautiful Colnago road bike pulled up and clicked out of his pedals.

"Everything alright, man?" he asked. I was a little startled, then said No, everything was fine, just making a phone call. "Cool," he said quickly, as he clipped backed in and ramped back up to his pre-stop race speed, seemingly in one fluid motion.

I then called my wife who, much to my disappointment, hadn't noticed that I didn't call. Or maybe that's a good thing. Either way, as I put the phone back in my trailer, an older man on a weighted-down tour bike haltingly pulled up in front of me. "Everything ok?" he inquired, trying in vain to easily balance his top-heavy Trek.

"Oh, I'm fine, thanks," I answered, a little more confidently than the first time. Without waiting for an explanation, he righted himself and rode off.

For the rest of the ride home, I thought about what had just happened. I chose cycling as a form of exercise awhile back for the same reason I'd chosen running before that - I enjoy solitude when exercising. I like small triathlons even more than cycling grand prixs specifically because there is a no-draft rule - it's every person against themselves. I've never been to a spin class, I've done yoga from a dvd but never in a group, and even though I enjoyed team sports in high school, I've never joined a city league of anything. Whether it's anti-social tendencies or just plain self-consciousness, I thoroughly enjoy exercising alone and I love the solo freedom I feel on a bike.

And yet, these two men demonstrated that whether I have pursued it or not, I have become part of a larger community. There are members of every community none of us want to claim (yes, I'm speaking to you, the aggressive biker who yelled at the family who dared to walk 2-across on the Burke Gilman trail on a beautiful Saturday morning, how dare you), but every time I climb on the bike I am joined in part by those 2 gentlemen who stopped to ask if I was ok, unsolicited. It's more than comforting, it's inspiring. I don't need to track those 2 cyclists down and thank them. I know that if I'm to truly show my gratitude, the best thing I could do is demonstrate the same behavior whenever I get the chance.

Groucho Marx was the one who said he didn't want to part of any club that would accept him - in my case, I didn't even apply. I guess that could be true of any number of communities (profession, hobby, etc), if I really thought about it. But those two ambassadors who offered help on Thursday made me proud to be part of the cycling community specifically and for that, I do thank them.