I didn't know Tripp all that well. He was a regular at Revolutions, at the birth of the BC crew. He was a quiet sort of guy, but not unapproachable. He left town for awhile, but eventually I started seeing him on our local trails, again. He would always say hi, and we'd stop and chat when the ebb and flow of our concurrent rides allowed.

While I don't know much of Tripp's life story, I always liked that bikes had remained a theme in his life. Having been in this for so long, I've seen a lot of faces pick up bikes, and then send them back to some dark corner of the garage. Last time I talked to Tripp, he was excited about another new bike. I don't recall exactly what it was, but does it really matter? He was still excited about another two wheeled toy.

I don't know that I ever met any of Tripp's family, but I do recall him talking of children. My heart goes out to them, now.

I heard unconfirmed reports that Tripp was on a trail when his time came. I can definitely think of worse places. May we all be so lucky, as to be in place that has brought long time happiness, when it's our turn.

With the Dave's ghost bike ride last week, and now this, my tree is a bit shaken. The song above is my favorite reminder to embrace today, for all it's worth.

God speed boys. God speed.