Critical Mass

Friday night marked the 10th anniversary of Critical Mass in Chicago. If you've never heard of this, Critical Mass is basically a mass rally of cyclists who gather on the last Fri of every month to bike through the city, take over the streets, block traffic and generally have a good time riding without fear of being hit by cars. The movement (if you can call it that) aspires to advocate cycling but has no official "platform" or "organization" or "leaders." In fact, the biking route isn't decided until the day of the rally, when people suggest possible maps and a general vote is taken. As you can imagine, the unregulated, unpredictable nature of the Mass tends to put the police in a bit of a bind, but in Chicago (unlike NYC) the cops are generally supportive and help block traffic, rather than arresting people for disorderly conduct.

This sounded like a massive block party on wheels, so I grabbed some fellow bikers and we headed out to the Mass start point at Daley Plaza. Problem: when we headed out, we discovered that Charles' bike seat had been stolen. Ack! I feel vindicated now for being paranoid and taking my bike seat with me whenever I leave it outside. Luckily, the Millennium Park bike station was still open, and the mechanic was miraculously able to find a fitting seat and post for his bike. This was the same guy who patched up my bike after I got hit by a cab; have I mentioned lately how much he rocks??

Meanwhile, the Mass was in full swing and heading north. And by "full swing," I mean traveling at about 5 mph - thousands of bikers don't make it anywhere particularly fast. Plus, we were surrounded by all kinds of sideshows. There was a marching band, people passing out organic sodas, skinny hipsters toting patched messenger bags, suburban lawyer types in spandex, parents with wagons of small children, bikes with subwoofers attached, short trick bikes, 5' tall 2-tiered bikes, and that guy you always see on Lake Shore drive with the "Hi :)" flag on his bike.


The Mass wended its way through downtown and headed toward Wicker and then Humboldt Parks, alternatively pissing off cab drivers (who were prevented from driving forward by cyclists who "corked" intersections) and bringing good cheer to kids who ran out to shout "Happy Friday!" (the unofficial Critical Mass greeting). I was surrounded by bikes on all sides, there were no dump trucks bearing down on me and no cars opening doors in my path, and for the first time ever, I felt completely safe while biking in the city. By the end of the night, I was definitely feeling One with the Mass or the Universe or whatever.

We made a quick pit stop at Charles' apartment to pick up beer (appropriately enough, he had large quantities of PBR). I have now perfected my technique for opening a can of beer with one hand while riding a bike.

That was without a doubt the funnest thing I've done all month.

There are rumors flying that this 10th anniversary Critical Mass might be the last one ever in the city, since some feel that the ride has become too large for its own good, and more closely resembles a frat party, rather than focusing on cycling advocacy. Personally, I think the Mass will keep assembling so long as there are cyclists who keep showing up once a month at Daley Plaza. (see proponents of the "Last Mass My Ass!" campaign) I didn't stick it out till the end of the ride (we had plans to meet up with people), but if you stay till the end, I hear the horde eventually ends up at say, the North Ave beach and then breaks up into lots of crazy after-parties. Yay, biking community culture!