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As the sun glinted off of assembled bikes, the air ripe with the smell of drying paint and the scents of spring, a slight breeze carried trills of nervous laughter and ruffled through shirts and pants scattered haphazardly on the packed dirt road.
Around me, belt and bra buckles unclasped in unison and fell to the ground.
I hesitated, looking around at the 50 plus people in various states of undress and, taking a deep breath, I removed the last vestiges of my modesty.
For nature and journalism, I was prepared to do my part.
Whether loved or hated, the much-anticipated naked Earth Day bike ride, a University of Maine tradition, was back again.
Dating back to 1970, April 22 sees celebrations on campus of International Mother Earth Day, as it is recognized by the United Nations.
Embracing the all-natural spirit, I joined other brave souls to bare all for the planet. Disrobing, we smeared ourselves in green paint — some applying lotion to keep themselves sleek and shiny.
I arrived at the determined meeting point — the out-of-the-way intersection of Grove Street and Allagash Road — panting for breath. My trusty steed, a relic of a bicycle with two flat tires, seemed inadequate. I was sure I would end up separated from the group.
Trying to shake my trepidation, Amy Marchessault, one of the event’s organizers, said it was the largest showing of nude bikers she had seen in her three rides.
“It’s great every year,” she said. “It’s liberating.”
Bryan Mayo, a relaxed three-year naked ride veteran and co-organizer for this year’s event, described what would be the worst-case scenario.
“Falling off your bike,” Mayo said. “It’s the only rule we really have: If one person goes down, we all wait.”
After clothes are removed and collected in a volunteer’s car, the crew sets off. John Vicenzi and Robert Keegan — struck by a touch of genius and wielding the shaft of a vuvuzela — lashed a chair to a platform and pulled the contraption behind a bike chariot-style.
The most adventuresome of the lot — a unicyclist whose wheel was adorned with a paper reconstruction of the earth — boldly peddled in the front of the line.
Spectators, many feverishly snapping pictures, cheered from sidewalks while cars honked encouragement.
Rather than show embarrassment, the procession yelled and whistled, chanting “Happy Earth Day.”
The scene reminded me of kids who have escaped parents’ clutches and streaked throughout the neighborhood — only this time, police were on our side.
As we got closer to the mall, the crowds and noise grew. Windows in the halls lining the grassy expanse were thrown open to enjoy more than the spring air.
Halfway around the mall, an agonizing cry rose from the crowd. Looking around wildly, at first I thought the worst had happened — “Green naked biker down?”
To my left, an unpainted student on a bike approached our group. He seemed to be disappointed about something. Was it envy in his eyes as we passed?
“It’s not too late buddy,” came a cry from behind.
With astonishment, I watched as the male smiled, threw his bike to the ground, dropped his pants and joined in the procession to raucous cheering from the crowd.
Grinning like fools, we circled the mall not once but three times. We even biked uphill to tease around the Hilltop dormitories. The path split at one point and the calls of, “To the left, to the left” could not keep us from separating.
“How many naked green bikers does it take to follow the trail?” I wondered.
The end of the Earth Day bike ride brought us to the Memorial Gym for showers, when the guys and gals went their separate ways.
As I announced to the entire group for the first time that I was reporting on the event as a first-time rider, several participants reflected on their experiences.
“We did it last year and I’m a huge advocate of sustainable agriculture and sustainable living. I think it’s a good idea to get out there and open people’s eyes — a lot of people are in the dark about it,” said a male who identified himself only as Big Ben. “If it takes everyone getting naked and painting themselves green to get the word across, then we got to do it.”
“I’ll be back next year,” he added.
Mayo jovially put the trip into perspective.
“At this point in my life, this is probably the best I’m going to look. It’s all downhill from here,” he said. “We’re going to look back in 25 to 30 years and say, ‘Holy s—, we rode across the Maine campus naked.’”
