crows to burnaby

One of the highlights of this past weekend was the annual Bike Month variation of Critical Mass. Critical Mass is a giant bike ride held on the last Friday of every month. Greg and I used to be occasional participants a few years ago, and gradually got distracted and stopped going as often. However, we still try to get to the June ride if we can, because it is truly a massive mass. Last year they topped 1200 riders, and this year early estimates expected 1500-1700 or so. There is nothing like being part of a flowing river of over a thousand bicycles, surrounded by happily binging bells and cheering and crazy mobile art displays. You see every type of person and every age, from the kids being towed in the cart behind their parents, through to the twentysomething activists with the crazy hair, through to the thirtysomething executives just kicking back for the evening, up to the old guy wearing nothing but a Speedo and sneakers. Ahead of you or behind you, there's bikes as far as the eye can see. The mass stretches for blocks in either direction; you can't find the beginning or the end.

Critical Mass has no leaders (though there are a few informal organizers) and there is no set route through the city. It moves as a flock of birds does, directed by the whim and agreement of whoever happens to be at the front of the ride at the time. In traffic, it behaves as a bus would: when the light changes to red, the riders in the middle and back of the ride continue on so that the mass isn't fragmented - as any self-respecting gazelle knows, there's safety in numbers. At intersections, individual riders "cork" the road to prevent cars from trying to force their way out into the street (which can and does happen, and can be very dangerous).

The riders are urged to be polite, respectful and cheerful to drivers at all times; we are aware that we're delaying them, and we don't want to rub it in their faces. Most drivers deal with it well - many cheer and wave and beep and grin at the hundreds of happy cyclists ringing their bells. Others just stare at us, jaws dropped, and others grimly glare at their steering wheels. Then there's always a few aggros who let road rage take over. Usually it's just verbal venting (a mother and her kids got out of their taxi to walk when they were stopped, calling us "fucking idiots" as she passed - good example to set there, Mom). But I've seen people get out of their cars and start physical fights with the corkers, or actually push their cars recklessly INTO the bicycles. What usually happens at this point is that this roar emerges from the ride, and a swarm of the tougher cyclists stop at the scene like blood cells rushing to clot a wound, making sure it doesn't get out of hand. The rest of the ride continues, ignoring the conflict, which usually dissipates as the driver grasps that it's him against hundreds, or once he's done screaming his frustration at them. (I do understand why people get frustrated by the ride, but I have no sympathy for those that get violent. They're usually young men in expensive cars and clothes whose body language makes it clear they feel themselves far more important than anyone else enjoying the ride, kids and dogs included.)

There's always police at the outskirts of the ride somewhere. Sometimes they keep an eye on the end of the ride, or cork the roads for us at difficult intersections. Sometimes they just watch, or threaten those who seem to be stalling unnecessarily, making sure the ride moves along. Sometimes they videotape the riders. In Vancouver we generally don't have too much cause for complaint; in New York there's been known to be arrests at Critical Mass rides, where there's not as much tolerance for delays and large-scale activism.

It's tough to describe the sense of awe when you reach a slight hill and can see the next six blocks filled with cyclists, and you know you're only around the middle of the group. One of the high points of last Friday's ride for me was coming off the Granville Street bridge (usually un-bikeable) onto 4th Avenue, looking up towards the bridge and seeing that it was still filled with moving bikes. (I've yet to find a photo that conveys the scale of the event, but at least here's one that shows you what I'm talking about.) It was unreal, being part of something so - well, massive. For a few short hours, you are part of a floating mobile community, where everyone is approachable, everyone is friendly, and everyone has the same goal - just to ride their bike for a while around this beautiful city without having to dodge SUVs.