Over the past eighteen months I've attended several Full Moon Fiascos. Just by riding on one you become a lifetime member for life of a...um...bicycling club? Not really a club but a loosely-based affiliation that has no dues, no officers, no members, no by-laws, no meetings and basically doesn't exist. People on bicycles show up at a bar on the night of the full moon, hang out for an hour, ride to another bar, and then hang out until they decide to leave.
I remember there were eight people on my first ride in December 2007. Eight people can pretty much go anywhere. As word spread, the size of the group grew to forty and fifty last summer. That resulted in calling ahead to the destination to make sure they had staff on hand for the influx of customers. Last month the attendance was 75 and last night at least 105. And it's not even summer yet. Now that is an issue to wrestle with. Where do you go with 150 or 200?
In my mind, the whole idea of the FBC is about having fun. And it is. It's the most eclectic, laid back, nonjudgmental group of random people I've ever seen. Last night's sight of 105 bikes going through downtown Spokane and taking the Centennial Trail out to Mission Park was very impressive. How could it not be? Cars were honking their horns in salute. Pedestrians were cheering us and asking what was going on.
But given the increasing its popularity and attendance I have to wonder if a quote by Yogi Berra will sadly become applicable. "Nobody goes there anymore. It's too crowded."
This Sunday’s Ride.
10 hours ago