A Schedule, A Story, A Signal: Weekly Dispatches

This week, we’ve got a little bit of everything. A calendar of upcoming events. A moment in a parking lot. A reflection on what it means to be a human being in a city that often treats us like cars. Let’s begin.

What’s Coming Up

See the Calendar for full dates/details.

August 2
📍 Left Hook Block Party
Come hang from 12–5pm with our buds at The Left Hook. It’s a community fundraiser and celebration, and we’ll be popping up alongside other friends and neighbors.

August 8
📍 The Bike Library Grand Opening | 6–8pm
We're officially cutting the ribbon on our new home. Stick around after—we’ll roll together to the Sir Walter Miler, Raleigh’s annual mile race under the lights.

August 16
📍 Adventure Series: Orienteering at Dix Park
Get a little lost, on purpose. Learn basic navigation skills and explore the park like never before. More details soon.

August 19
📍 Bikes on Bricks at NCSU
We’ll be tabling at NC State for this campus welcome event. Come say hey and help new students connect the dots between bikes and their city.

August 23
📍 Ride to Field Day Raleigh | 6pm departure
We’re rolling to Field Day Raleigh, an outdoor hangout for adults at Dorothea Dix Park. Organized by Riley McClanahan and Sumedha Somayajula, the event invites folks to reconnect through joy—slip 'n slide kickball, creative expression, laid-back games, and shared passions. No agenda, just a chance to be people together. Bring your picnic blanket, your weird hobbies, your sense of play.

A Tale of Two Parked Cars

The other day, I was outside Chopt in the Village District, eating lunch with Lauren B. We were talking about many of the events listed above. It was a pleasant enough day, the kind that makes you think maybe the city’s working as it should.

Then a woman pulled up, stopped behind two parked cars, flipped on her hazards, and walked into the store. I barely noticed—until one of the parked drivers, an elderly lady, returned to her car and found herself blocked in.

She honked. Not a tap-tap hello, but a lonely, directionless honk. A broadcast to nobody in particular. Like shouting into a canyon and waiting for the echo.

Eventually, the woman who had blocked her returned. No apologies. No exchange. Just one long, earsplitting honk as the elderly driver expressed her fury, and the younger woman laughed while driving away.

It all happened ten feet from us.

There were layers to it: one woman Black, one white. One elderly, one young. But more than anything, it was a stark reminder of how cars reduce us. When we're behind the wheel, we communicate through force, through sound, through frustration. We don’t exchange glances, we don’t say “excuse me.” We honk.

I watched that interaction and thought: What would this have looked like on a sidewalk? Maybe a quick step aside, a nod, a shared moment. But that’s not what car-centric design allows. The Village District, one of Raleigh’s supposed centers of community, is overwhelmed by traffic noise and metal boxes. It’s no oasis.

We can do better.

These are the things Lauren and I talked about, before getting back on our bikes and pedaling away.

See you out there. Be kind. Ride safe. Let’s make this city a place where we see each other.