This summer I plan to ride the Group Health Seattle to Portland Bicycle Classic. It is a 200 mile organized ride from Seattle to Portland that can be done in one or two days.

In training, I ride upwards of 150 miles on King County roads each week. So, I considered it a good idea to promote bicycle awareness. The Ride of Silence is a worldwide event to generate awareness for cyclists and commemorate those killed or injured while riding their bicycles safely on the roads. Cyclists from around the world join together locally. This May the starting point for the 14 mile ride in Seattle was Gasworks Park.

This was the first time for me and I anticipated a solemn crowd at the park for a serious event, but when I arrived I was met with the sight of hundreds of people festooned in bright colors and shorts laughing, talking, meeting, and greeting. Best estimates were the Ride of Silence drew 500 to 700 cyclists of every shape, size, age, and occupation. There were children riding as passengers; teenagers; and adults in their 20s, to their 60s. There were corporate executives, mechanics, students, retirees. Everyone from the community was well represented.

At 7 a.m., we heard an air horn blow. The mood of the group suddenly shifted as we started to roll. It was if we rode through a curtain of silence and contemplation. No one spoke as we passed the exit to the park. It was like a funeral procession for a fallen comrade. Our ranks stretched for half a mile. A tandem bike, a bicycle that seats two, rolled along beside me purposefully deliberately. The stoker position, the seat behind the captain steering the bike was empty.

I rode the Ride of Silence with both a head light and a tail light brightly turned on. We proceeded slowly from Gasworks Park out to 15th Street by Fishermen's Terminal. As we were traveling 15th Street to downtown, a woman with blond hair and probably in her 50s pedaled up to me. She asked where I got my taillight. People often ask me where they can get a taillight as bright as mine. I always tell them and we usually have a short conversation. This time, I looked at her and I did not answer. She said, "You don't understand my husband is in the hospital! A car hit him. I must know!" I turned to her again and put my index finger to my lips. She dropped back. I did not know if she was angry or disgusted with me.

After the woman dropped back, I thought a lot about our interaction. I wanted to tell her everything about my light. I also had the thought that the information she sought would not ease her pain. I thought about her husband in a hospital bed. I decided to maintain my silence and keep track of her so I could tell her what she wanted to know at the end of our ride. In my silence, I thought about what it means to have awareness on the road and the importance of being visible.

It is important for a cyclist to be visible on the road. It is also important for an awareness to exist between motorists, cyclists, and pedestrians that they share the road with each other. Perhaps this awareness has something to do with our sense of community.

The Alaska Junction is one of the symbols of our community. If a pedestrian even makes a move towards a crosswalk there, cars slow down and stop. It is an act of community to look out for someone about to cross the road. It is a contribution to our sense of community. It happens in the Admiral Junction, Alki Beach, and The Center. It also seems that this awareness for those sharing the road dissipates slightly when we move away from our symbols of community and home.

Sharing the road builds community and motorists are not the only ones that can improve their awareness for those that share the road. I am both a motorist and a cyclist. As a cyclist, I have ridden through crosswalks occupied by pedestrians while cars were waiting for them to cross, rolled through stop signs without stopping, and worse. We can all expand our sense of community and improve our awareness for sharing the road. Events like the Ride of Silence can help us fine tune our awareness, but the real work of making the roads safer for all happens on the road and in our communities.

David Goldberg is a West Seattle resident who can be reached via wseditor@robinsonnews.com