Rights
of Passage. Critical Mass is sending the city a message: the revolution
will not be motorized.
by Michael Glab
Michael won't tell me his last name; in fact, Michael
may not even be his first name. He says he doesn’t want the police knocking
on his door in the middle of the night. “If you look back at the history
of Chicago, you’ll see a lot of examples of the police being overly zealous
about things,” he says. “We live in a society that some might describe as
a police state. Whenever you’re doing something out of the ordinary, you’re
taking chances.”
Certainly Michael’s preferred mode of transportation is out of the ordinary—he
travels by bike. Were he a resident of Canton or Kuala Lumpur, this wouldn’t
be unusual. But here in Chicago, pedaling regularly on busy streets makes
him a revolutionary, and along with a few hundred fellow bikers, Michael
hopes to send the city a message: the revolution will not be motorized.
As part of a worldwide phenomena called Critical Mass, hundreds of bikers
will gather this Friday at 5:30 in the Daley Center Plaza to take a leisurely
ride through downtown streets at the height of rush hour.
The bikers hope that their demonstration will become a monthly ritual
and that these actions will eventually allow them to claim a slice of
the pavement as their own. Michael, for one, is tired of being harassed
by drivers. “Yesterday, someone in a car actually swerved in my direction,
trying to intimidate me,” he says. “I have to deal with that a lot. It’s
very stressful. And then two or three times a month I come within inches
of being doored. When you’re cycling, passing cars gives you maybe five
or six feet of room. The problem is that if there are parked cars, someone
might swing a door open and you have three seconds—less really—to stop
or run into the door, probably flip over it, and maybe break your back.
My brother in San Francisco was doored not too long ago, and he was in
the hospital for a few days. So I ride out a little in the traffic lane.
But the cars feel like you’re taking up too much of the road. You’ll get
honks. You’ll get catcalls. The cars feel like they own the road.”
“When a few hundred of us get together, it’s a totally different feeling.
It’s not like the cars own the road any more; it’s the cyclists owning
the road. We’re just turning the tables a little bit, makking people think
about why they’re in their cars and we’re riding bikes.”
The first Critical Mass demonstration took place five years ago in San
Francisco, and this past July some 5,000 Bay Area bikers snarled downtown
rush-hour traffic, leading to frayed tempers, cold dinners, and a few
dozen arrests. Bike rallies have been held in Seattle, Minneapolis, Ann
Arbor, Phoenix, Portland, Boston, London, Sydney, and Bergen, Norway.
At Chicago’s first Critical Mass, held Friday, September 5, about 200
riders gathered under the Picasso, reveled in their numbers, and headed
east on Washington to State, where they hung a right toward Jackson. They
took Jackson west to LaSalle and then rode north. The massed bikers eventually
got on Milwaukee Avenue and pedaled to the intersection of Milwaukee,
North, and Damen, where, not so coincidentally, the streets were filled
with patrons of Around the Coyote and a few minicam vans. The bikers took
over the busy six- cornered intersection for about five minutes—a “holdup”—waving
placards, sounding horns and bells, and lifting their bikes over their
heads.
“It’s a very empowering thing,” says Micheal. “It was a celebratory thing
too. The reaction of the drivers was mostly positive, because it was like
Mardi Gras.”
Michael could be described as an organizer but disdains the term; he’s
hard pressed to state Critical Mass’s manifesto. “It’s not an official
meeting. It’s not a parade. It’s just a coincidental convergence of bike
riders. It’s just people who happen to get together to go on a bike ride.
“The movement has no officials or leaders. Word gets around through a
grapevine of coffeehouses, bike shops, bars and other meeting places for
commuters, athletes, and hobbyists. “No one’s trying to lead this thing.”
Nevertheless, Critical Mass flyers have been popping up all over town,
especially along the city’s main bike routes and it’s diagonal streets
- Milwaukee, Elston, Clark, Broadway. “We’re creating a culture here called
a xerocracy. People circulate flyers. Others xerox route maps.”
Chicago bikers tried several times to organize Critical Mass rallies
before September, but each attempt drew only a few dozen riders. According
to Michael the police bullied the sparse turnouts, making several arrests
each time. But once Critical Mass makes good on its name, traffic is affected,
passersby take notice, and the police are nearly powerless to stop the
wave of riders. “That’s why the one last month was billed as the first
Critical Mass for Chicago,” Michael says. “Accordingly, the police were
very cooperative. They actually blocked off traffic for us—which we didn’t
ask them to do. We have people that carry signs saying ‘Sorry for the
delay—Critical Mass—Next time ride a bike.’”
The bikers aren’t interested in making formal arrangements with the city.
That’s another reason why Michael, a developer of low-income housing who
lives in Wicker Park, is cagey about revealing his identity. “In other
cities where this has taken off, the police and officials are trying to
find out who the leaders are. They want to negotiate things. We don’t
want to do that; we just want to ride our bikes.” Even so, Michael is
pleased that Mayor Daley is a frequent biker (not on the streets of of
his city, but around his cottage in Michigan.)
“There are lots of really good things that have gone on in this city
for bikers,” Michael says. “There are bike lanes now. Bike racks are all
over. These are moves in the right direction. But cars don’t universally
respect the bike lanes, and there’s no police enforcement. And I’m not
so happy they’re keeping bike racks off State Street. Also, they’ve re-done
the parking meters on Clark Street near Wrigley Field and elsewhere so
you can’t get a Kryptonite lock around them. I hope these rides will raise
the awareness of policy makers and the public so maybe these things are
taken into consideration.”
Subsequent Critical Mass rides are planned for the last Friday of every
month. Michael says their main point is to raise people’s consciousness
of bicycles as a viable means of getting around. “I bike everywhere. I
have a car but only use it two or three times a month. I’d rather bike
because it’s more efficient. It’s a better way to get around, better for
your health and better for the environment. One of the reasons I participate
in Critical Mass is to emphasize bicycles as an alternative transportation
mode. Others get involved because of confrontations cyclists have with
drivers.” Despite their varied agenda, the bikers make a statement simply
by letting their numbers be known. “It’s really exciting when you’re with
200 or 300 other cyclists; there’s a feeling of solidarity. It’s a positive
thing.”
From the October 3, 1997 Issue of The Chicago Reader
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