Critical Mass?

Okay, maybe it's not critical. Maybe we're just approaching mildly serious. Or more accurately, mildly visible.
If you're not familiar with Critical Mass bike rides, this is a good time to open a second window and run it through the googly search. Go ahead, I'll wait. Okay, so now you know it's a mass invasion of a city by bicyclists that shuts down traffic and progresses from point A to B. The point is to block vehicular traffic and make the drivers painfully aware that bikes ARE traffic. I'm not going to debate whether or not this is effective or even a good idea, but I welcome comments from anybody who thinks they can make their point with out using the words "dude, man" or "like."
I bring this up only as a backstory to my experience on our road ride Sunday. This weekend was certainly Spring's warning shot across the bow of Winter. March comes in sunny and seventy degrees, so Carrie and I decided to join the group ride at the bike store. Diana opted to join us. Now, the Sunday ride is billed as casual, but even then I didn't expect to keep up. Carrie is averaging 12-13 mph and both of us hadn't been on a bike much since being sick. Add that to the fact that Diana ended up needing five stitches in her hand the morning before the ride, and it's obvious we weren't planning on being contenders. It seemed like there was a good turn out for the ride, and they rolled out en masse at five till one. Diana was still getting her gear on, and I was a little surprised no one bothered to check with us as they left to see if we were planning on riding with them. We weren't, but it would have been courteous to check.
We mounted up and headed out, and within a half mile Bill had circled back to check on us and make sure we were okay. We assured him we were, and discussed expected averages and distances. Once he was sure that we were set and knew that there was no need to rein in the group to wait on us, he split to catch up to the group.
We crossed the interstate and turned south, making our way to highway 96 and further south on some very pretty, quiet roads. My favorite point was a third-of-a-mile climb on shake and bake pavement on allendale road. The sun was beating down between the tall pines and we were cranking up a grass fringed stretch that felt like it could have been on a col in southern France. Fantastic.
The other thing that struck me was how nice all the motorists were. We got smiles and waves, everyone passed with plenty of room, even the guys in the heavy duty trucks were reasonable. a couple people gave us a thumbs up instead of the customary middle finger. We even had a woman pull up to a stop sign where we were resting and ask if we were okay! Concern? What a revolution!
Which brings me back around to Critical Mass. Maybe, just maybe, we are starting to have enough cyclists on the road that people are becoming aware of us. Maybe drivers are starting to see us as people instead of obstacles. Perhaps we're starting to step up to a new level of visibility.
Maybe it was just a rare, good day. But I'll take it.

30 miles, 11.5 mph average.