Everything I had heard about cycling on the west coast was true. Cyclists are everywhere, commuting to and from work with brief cases strapped to their backs, riding in neighborhoods, city parks and on greenways, riding by themselves or in groups of all sizes. And they were good. I was very impressed and intimitated by them because they were biking up hills that would have brought me to my knees; but these riders took them in stride. One hill right after another. It was impressive.
It was not surprising that with the beauty of Vancouver Island we found cyclists on the open roads there as well. As we drove into the city of Victoria, my attention was drawn to the task of finding our hotel in the midst of the distractions of city traffic and pedestrians. We were stopped at a light about a block from our hotel, when my gaze was drawn to a hill on the road ahead of us. As I looked, I saw a pelaton of riders cresting the hill and descending into the city. I said to Ilene, "Look at that group of cyclists. There must be 50 of them. I wonder if there is a race going on?" Ilene said quick get out the camera and take their picture when they ride by. Snatching my camera I leaned out the window to get an unobstructed view. As they got closer cheers began to go up from everyone standing on the side walks watching the same spectacle coming at us. Only as they got closer did I notice that many of them were ... um ... nude. I yelled to Ilene, "They're nude!" "They're what?" "They're nude and I am going to have pictures to prove it." So for the next several minutes, while we were stopped at a light, this parade went by, the like of which I had never witnessed before. I am happy to note that there must be a helmet law on the island because many of them at least had their helmets on. Others thankfully wore swim suits and frankly there were some who would have looked better with a little spandex on. No other city we visited came close to the warm welcome we got in Victoria.
