I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: Portland is the greatest city on earth. Where else can you ride your bike, naked, with 2000 of your closest friends? And if they weren’t your friends before, they certainly are now. Here’s how it all went down:
Girlfriend calls up, says, We are so doing the naked bike ride tomorrow. No, I say. What? It’ll be so much fun! No. I don’t want to be naked in public; no way, I am firmly standing my ground and cannot be convinced. Well, it’ll be dark, and you don’t even have to be completely naked if you don’t want. You don’t even have to be naked at all, in fact. Really? OK, then.
So we rode bikes all day long, mostly on a super cool tour of urban edible gardens, and then over to Col. Summers Park to watch the Stumptown Joustdown, got completely wore out and sun burnt. Then we took a nap. At 8:00 she woke me up because we had to go to REI to get her a bike light for the ride. At that point, I had a sunburn fever and was freezing to death. Noooooo, I don’t wanna go anymore! I’m freezing and sleepy! Leave me alone! Nope, get your ass out of bed and get dressed ’cause we’re going. <More whining, moaning, groaning, bitching from me.> But I slumped out of bed and bundled up like I was on my way to the Iditarod, and off we went.
By the time we got to REI, just before they closed, I was feeling slightly better but not much. After REI we went to Vivace to hang out and I had an iced latte (I know, why would I have that when I’m freezing?). Then I had a hot licorice tea (better). We left Vivace around 11 and headed out to the ride’s starting place in some warehouse on Industrial Ave. Wasn’t hard to find, since there was a steady stream of bikes going that way. I started perking up when I saw the hundreds if not thousands of bikes and people there, and heard the music pumping inside. We did a quick tour of the place, then got in line for beer. I only had one beer, but I think it was that one beer that helped me decide that since I was doing the ride, I might as well do it right. Yes, I would go all the way – fully naked! Thank you, Fat Tire. The high temperature inside probably helped a bit, too; it made me forget how cold it was outside. More of a willing suspension of belief than a forgetting, really.
Soon the call went out to gather at the starting line. We found our bikes, put our clothes in the Freeloaders, and headed off! Off to stand around with our bikes in the street for 10 or 15 minutes, that is. That’s when I learned how cold a top tube can get. It was 48° F outside, and the only way to keep warm was to ring my bell constantly. At least, I told myself that I was warmer when ringing the bell. And no, that’s not a euphemism for anything.
At long last we got moving. Yaaaaaaay! We hooped and hollered up the hill and down the other side. Little groups of people were gathered to watch on every corner. Cars happily honked at us and people cheered and whistled. The closer we got to downtown, the more people there were. By the time we hit Burnside and maybe 10th, the streets were totally lined with supporters. People were lining the streets and even the left turn lanes in some cases, holding out their hands to be slapped just like they do on the Tour de France. There was also the occasional moron in the middle of the street. I almost smashed a photographer who was crouched in the center lane – hello! Anyway, I felt like some kind of returning war hero from an old movie, and half expected ticker tape to rain down on us.
The ride crossed the Hawthorne Bridge, then looped back to the party warehouse in NW. L and I decided not to loop, and just rode home. This was a whole new adventure because then we were Independently Naked and riding in our own neighborhood! Woo, talk about feeling free! Cops saw us and didn’t say anything. People saw us and said, Holy Shit! One guy yelled Gay Pride Weekend! Well, yeah, but it’s just a coincidence. 
So the moral of this story is this: if you think you don’t want to do this next year, do it.