Bikes, Cozy Vibes, and Why You Can Never Have Too Many Friends (Copy)

Hey friends, Litsa here.

If you walk into Dear Diary on any given morning, you’ll see the sun filtering through a grid of colored window films, bathing the shop in bright, natural light. You might spot our LED fish lantern (a favorite piece from Waller Creek Light) cycling through shades of pink, blue, green, and orange. Look at the walls and shelves, and you’ll find colorful prints by local illustrators, whimsical ceramics, art supplies, and cute yarn stuffies brought in by our regulars and staff.

The vibe here is intentionally creative, cozy, and decidedly Rated-G. More than anything, I am incredibly proud of how Dear Diary has evolved into an environment where trans and queer folks feel genuinely safe, celebrated, and at home.

But a truly safe space isn’t just built out of decor and lighting—it’s built out of the community and the events that bring us together.

Slowing Our Roll with Team Snacks

One of the highlights of my week happens right here at the shop courtesy of Team Snacks Cycling. We host a weekly ride called "Slow Your Roll," which is a designated WTF ride—an imperfect but heartfelt acronym for Women, Trans, and Femme riders, or anyone who places themselves on that side of the gender spectrum.

I’ve been a member of Team Snacks for 10 of its 11 years, and I was honored to be elected President of the team last year. When our friends at Cycleast sadly closed their doors back in 2023, "Slow Your Roll" needed a new home, so Dear Diary stepped up as the official start and stop location.

Moving the ride to our Chicon Street space ended up having a beautiful, reciprocal effect. The new location naturally began attracting more trans women to the group, and in turn, their presence helped shape the shop into an even safer, more vibrant sanctuary for the LGBTQ+ community.

From Latchkey Kid to Austin Cycling Communities

My obsession with bikes started way back in the 1980s when I was a latchkey kid finding my freedom on two wheels. By the time I was in college, I was diving headfirst into massive social rides like Critical Mass and the Annual Moonlight Cruise—the legendary predecessors to Austin’s Thursday Night Social Ride and the massive social cycling scene we have today.

Over the years, I've tried just about every flavor of cycling there is. In 2016, I fell in love with mountain biking. By 2017, I was experimenting with group road rides, gravel grinding, bike camping, and endurance racing. These days, you can usually find me hitting the trails with friends and the Austin Ridge Riders’ women’s chapter (RLAG), or leading the Team Snacks crew on Sundays.

Between managing the coffee shop and spinning my pedals, cycling has become my absolute favorite social outlet. After years of exploring different subcultures of the Austin bike scene, I’ve been lucky enough to make connections across multiple communities, and nothing brings me more joy now than helping someone find the exact right ride that suits their style.

Lowering the Bar on Friendship

Whether it’s a group bike ride, an open mic night, a drawing meetup, or a neighborhood running club, I’ve noticed that these activities do something miraculous: they offer people from completely different walks of life a shared, common joy. When you’re laughing on a bike or sketching at a table, those shared moments naturally take priority over social, financial, or ethnic differences.

I honestly think people put way too high a bar on what it means to be a "friend." We tend to hold out for soulmates or deep confidants before we use the word.

But my philosophy is a little simpler: If I’ve memorized your name, you’re a friend.

Sure, maybe you aren't a lifelong bestie just yet. But changing my definition means my world is constantly full of friends. And honestly, yours can be too.

Whether you’re rolling up on two wheels for a Sunday morning cruise or just looking for a bright, cozy spot to read among friends you haven’t met yet, our doors are open. Come as you are, and let’s keep building this community together.

Warmly,

Litsa