Critical Mass
I had considered riding critical mass for quite awhile, but it seemed like my schedule never quite meshed up to catch the final Friday of the month ride. In August the stars aligned and my friend Jason and I made it to Loring Park in Minneapolis by 5:30 to meet up with the horde of bikers waiting to ride.
This was a fascinating experience. The event is basically ruled by a punk rock ethos, and a good chunk of the riders fit this demographic. There were mohawks, piercings and tattoos, and freak bikes aplenty. I snapped a picture of this tall bike right as the mass departed from Loring Park.
I didn't see many carbon frames, clip-in pedals or spandex, as the majority of the mass eschewed these amenities, preferring more Bohemian sensibilities.
I was dazzled by the euphoric vibe permeating the mass, seemingly a result of defying all rules of the road which allowed for a leisurely pace through the city with soundtrack accompaniment from a boombox buckled in a Burley (or a DIY equivalent). Later, I replayed the mental image of blazing through red lights, cruising past impotent motorists, and riding on both sides of the streets and had to remind myself that it hadn't been a mere vision. I clearly remembered the police escorting the mass, as well as the "Happy Friday" guy meticulously who announced our presence to every annoyed driver.
Although I had a blast, I kept waiting for someone to rip off my mask and reveal me as the corporate working stiff that I am before kicking me off the ride.
Minneapolis Duathlon Time Trials
Two days later, I woke up to a beautiful Sunday morning and strolled down 36th Street to watch the time trial riders whiz past on West River Parkway. Spandex ruled this event, but there were also some casual riders. The bikes they rode were as diverse as the sounds they made passing by.
An unmistakable "thoo-thoon-thoon" announced the approach of Triathlon bikes, decked out with disc wheels while the road bikes made normal bike noises. There were a few old Huffy's squeaking along with their owners oblivious to the need for lubricating metal on metal contact points which produced facial gestures in me that simulated hearing nails down a chalkboard.
Overall it seemed like everyone participating had a great time, and I felt a twinge of regret for not signing up like a friend and co-worker had both suggested.
Bike Count
As mentioned in a previous post, I helped with the Transit for Livable Communities Fall Bike/Walk Count. Of the three events, this is where I found the people I seemed to most identify with. The vast majority of bicycles had full fenders, bike racks, and were equipped with panniers to carry work materials and their papers (their business papers). Most of them also wore comfortable clothing that seemed equally appropriate on or off the bike, though there was a higher frequency of spandex than at the critical mass ride. And just to be clear regarding the purpose of the count, these are merely my observations and were not part of the formal count.
Obviously, these people were similar to me in that their primary purpose for cycling was transportation/commuting, so it's no wonder that I felt at home with these fellow cyclists.
Posts
