His accident is tragic for a thousand reasons, none of which matter in the context of being a brother, son, uncle, and friend. To most of us he was a hero, a role model, and an inspiration. Passing the way he did feels painfully avoidable, and almost ironic. And plebeian. It’s hard to imagine the dull regularity of riding a bicycle taking away from us such an extraordinary talent and well-liked person. Beyond that I don’t know what to write, except that I feel lucky—to have had him to root for as an American, to look up to as a motorcyclist, and to have shaken hands with as a human being.