It’s a cold and rainy night for a bike ride. But on this particular Friday, the last Friday of September, an affable and energetic group gathers on the west side of City Hall, donning bicycles of all kinds from fixed gears to cruisers, tandems to choppers–there’s even a bike complete with makeshift platform for a dog. Despite the dismal weather, it’s all smiles among the bicycle enthusiasts on this evening. At 6pm the mass takes off; for the next hour and a half the group will channel Christian Slater and tear up the streets of Philadelphia, gleaming the cube Critical Mass style. But while the late 80’s cult classic Gleaming The Cube has Christian Slater skateboarding to investigate the death of his adopted Vietnamese brother, Critical Mass rides en-mass to commemorate the death of fallen bikers. Or maybe they ride for greater bicycle awareness? Or perhaps just to piss off already-tense motorists during rush hour? On this night, tailing the group on my somewhat decrepit and rusting GT Arette (a bike obviously not built to push the edge), I intend to find out the answer.
If you haven’t heard of CM, you might be their very worst enemy, their raison d’être if you will: an ignorant motorist. You, like a Philly cab driver, probably can’t stand bicyclists weaving eerily close to your bumper as you navigate the road, trying to stay focused while competing against seemingly intoxicated SEPTA drivers and Philly cops blowing through red lights like it’s their job. Under such conditions, you have no tolerance for the two-wheeled self-propelling folk and especially those skinny tattooed miscreants, riding helmet-less with exposed U-locks jutting from their over-tight jeans like some kind of kryptonite medal of honor.
So what is Critical Mass, you ask? Let’s start with what it’s not. CM is not an official organization but an “organized coincidence,” where a group of bicyclists (whoever shows up) ride as a pack though the streets on the last Friday of each month, in cities all over the world. Though the group has no official leadership and each ride in each city takes on its own character, there’s a common language and even specific tactics. “Corking” for example, occurs when a few riders block side roads so the pack can ride freely through an intersection. The mass might also ride in circles in an intersection forming a “cyclone,” in order to “mass up,” or increase the density of the pack. There might be some “bike-lifting,” where riders dismount and walk with their bikes in the air, or perhaps even a “die-in,” where participants lay on the ground to symbolize cyclist injuries and deaths caused by automobiles.
As you might imagine, all this corking of intersections and lying down in the road during rush hour doesn’t always amuse obstructed motorists; on occasion, harsh words are exchanged even to the point of fisticuffs in some cities. So how does our fare city weigh in on all this leaderless free assemblage? According to Steve Buckley, the director of Policy and Planning at Philly’s Office of Transportation, “the last Friday of every month bicycle riders gather and ride through the city in support of greater bicycle awareness." The city doesn’t officially sanction the gathering, he says, nor do they do anything to discourage it. "It is completely [cyclists'] right to hold the ride, so long as they obey the laws of the road,” adds Buckley. While the rides in some cities get aggressive, Buckley maintains that Philly’s CM rides haven’t caused any problems. As a result, the police are not asked to monitor or protect the participants; they hope that cyclists and motorists don’t act aggressively towards one another. "The city wants streets where cyclists and drivers can peaceably share the road," says Buckley.
While the city’s position on CM is basically neutral, it’s surprising to learn that some of the participants have mixed feelings. For one, Andy Dyson, a 25-year Philadelphia resident, avid cyclist and CM participant since the late 90’s, essentially agrees with City Hall–that the rides shouldn’t instigate more antipathy toward bicyclists by ignoring traffic laws and inciting drivers. According to Dyson, “the point of Critical Mass is to give bike riders a chance to feel safe the way motorists do; bicyclists deserve to be safe,” he implores. “However,” he adds, “some people use it as an opportunity to be aggressive towards motorists, but that just detracts from the message.” Dyson enjoys the festive atmosphere of the rides and is perfectly happy to follow the same traffic laws as motorists, but he emphatically believes that cyclists should be treated with more equity than is currently afforded.
Regardless of anyone’s position on the CM rides, one thing that should make cyclists, environmentalists and even motorists happy are the 1,400 new bike racks the city is installing beginning this month, along with the planned addition of new bike lanes and even the possibility of implementing a bike-sharing program, which is currently under review by city planners. Such actions are sure to improve conditions for peddlers and hopefully reduce the number of injuries from accidents.
Specific initiatives aside, on this Friday evening (as I follow the mass through the slick city streets to the Italian Market, over to Penn’s Landing and under the Fifth Street tunnel, which fills up with exuberant shouts of excitement from the mass of about 100 riders) I’m thinking about the big picture. I’m trying to figure out what the ride’s all about? What, besides aggravated motorists, does CM hope to create? The mass turns toward 20th and Walnut, where Sarah Palin is holed up at the Irish Pub to watch the first debate between presidential candidates Barrack Obama and John McCain. (Are they serving moose tonight, I wonder?) As the group of riders melds into an even larger mass, this one gathered mostly to deride the Alaska governor, I want to ask the dispersing cyclists what they’re riding for? Are you riding for cyclist rights? Are you riding for world peace or to end world hunger perhaps? Are you riding to eliminate the city wage tax, for injured cyclists or for the belief that SEPTA should be able to provide tokens and make change for a five dollar bill all at the same time? But judging from the smiles on the faces of the tired cyclists, I think I know what the answer to all my queries would be: “I just felt like riding.”
Find out for yourself what CM’s all about at the next ride, sure to be one of the best all year, on Halloween night, Fri. Oct. 31. Meet on the west side of City Hall between 5:30 and 6pm.






