A horse of a different color

#121 (updated 31 oct w/ one more picture)

30 some miles in the Sacramento area.
Halloween eve. Sunday, October 30th

Some inspired person in the road club with which I occasionally hang posted a 'wear your costumes' ride.
I found wild print spandex tights, a tie dye shirt, yellow face paint. Kind of a minimalist clown.

Holy cow. That was louder than I thought it was!

Another clown (better than mine).
And Death.
A Whoopie cushion.
A couple of cats.
Lt. Dangle.
ET in a bicycle basket.
A man in a tutu with fetching socks.
Pink feather boas, a pregnant Posh, and other assorted lunatics. I felt right at home.

There is a little ET doll, wrapped in a blanket, in the basket.

Darling, your sock is crooked.

We flew our freak flags all around downtown Sacramento.

 

Observe the fetching hat perched on the helmet. It had feathers and everything!

And best of all, at a regroup spot, I got to say, "Death and the Whoopie Cushion are behind me."

I think that, to pedesterians, groups of bicyclists are something to be "not seen". Peds only notice us when we are in the way. So the clown honked his horn and I rang the bell and waved.
 It was interesting to see the reactions or non-reactions of other bike trail users. About half would not make eye contact. The other half were divided between blank stares and cheers and laughter. One guy was having a Very Bad Day and referred to us collectively as feminine hygiene products of the liquid persuasion. You, sir, are the douche. Not us.

I had some kind of nearly catastrophic derailler thing about 8 miles from the end of the ride. So I limped home. I'm pretty sure it is the derailler and not the chain. Sigh. I think this time will be a trip to the shop.

Anyway, I had a great time and my yellow facepaint pretty much stayed on the entire time. Hurrah for $3 drugstore Halloween makeup kits.