On September 28, 2007, a motley outfit of local Kansas City bike enthusiasts toured the city. Many of the riders sported pirate garb, a few men outfitted themselves in peculiar dresses, and one guy sat perched above all the rest on a homemade contraption that had to be maneuvered from twenty feet above the ground.
It was all part of Kansas City’s Critical Mass bike ride, an internationally celebrated event that takes place on the final Friday of every month.
The riders met at the SunFresh grocery store on Southwest Trafficway around 6:00 pm. Then, for the next hour, they mentally prepared themselves for the ride by chatting about bikes, movies, beer and politics, among other things.
The ride was initiated when a few riders began circling the parking lot, and others joined in until everyone was part of a counter-clockwise circle. Finally, around 7 pm, everyone had joined the circle, and the group of about 120 riders embarked on their journey through the city.
Riding tandems, ten-speeds, mountain bikes and fancy low-rider mechanisms, the riders pushed through Westport, circled the Country Club Plaza several times, made their way around the UMKC and KCAI campuses, traveled down 39th Street to Southwest Boulevard, passed the new Sprint Center, and finally ended up at Grinders restaurant at 18th and Locust.
Along the way, cars were forced to halt as the riders passed. Many gawked at the outlandish spectacle, not knowing exactly what to think or how to feel about it. Some drivers seemed angry or annoyed, but many more honked their horns or yelled supportively from their automobiles.
One man carried a camcorder as he rode, posing questions to the other riders. “Why do you do Critical Mass?” he asked.
"Because I hate cars," one man shouted.
"It’s fun," one woman put it simply.
September 28 was Joha Bisone's third time participating in the event. "I get off on it. It's addictive....I like the spirit of the riders and the reactions of the people in their cars. One person is like 'I love you', and the next person tries to run you over," Bisone said.
Each seemed to have his or her own reasons for participating in the ride. Some wished to make a political or environmental statement, some were there for the exercise, and others just wanted to socialize and have a good time.
A Critical Mass flier reads, "The goal, if any, is to at least have fun, but perhaps even raise awareness of the ever growing population of fuel efficient cyclists from all of Kansas City."
The youngest riders were in their late teens, while the oldest riders were in their mid- to late fifties. There was a sense of purpose and camaraderie among the riders regardless of age, sex, or ethnic background.
According to the Los Angeles Times, Critical Mass originated in San Francisco more than fifteen years ago. It began in 1992, and since then "the free-form events have spread to every continent but Antarctica and to 300 cities worldwide.” (http://travel.latimes.com/articles/la-trw-criticalmass12aug12).
One of the stated purposes of Critical Mass is to raise awareness about the many health and environmental benefits of simply riding a bike instead of driving. The monthly ride allows like-minded individuals to share information, show support for one another, and make a positive statement to others in their community.
Critical Mass also seems to have a bizarre stigma that goes along with it. When the bicyclists arrived at Grinders, a big, bearded, Harley-riding man who sat at the bar told the woman next to him: "There’s like 400 of them, and most of 'em ride naked. There goes some Critical Mass people right now," he said, pointing to two women wearing pirate hats.
While it seems that Critical Mass bike rides have grown to mythological proportions for some, others know that it is mostly just a friendly group of people who care about their city and enjoy riding bikes.
In San Francisco and New York it has been reported that more than five thousand riders take part in the monthly Critical Mass. In cities such as these - where the event has gained monumental support - legal issues have arisen. Motorists, sometimes feeling that they have been provoked by the riders, become angry about being stuck in traffic for extended periods of time.
In San Francisco, a small group of riders, who were concerned with the growing level of hostility between bicyclists and motorists, branched off from Critical Mass to form a new group called Critical Manners, although they have not received nearly as much support as the regular Critical Mass.
As for Kansas City, September’s ride showed no evidence of looming violence or possible aggression between riders and motorists. Of course, motorists forced to wait while 120 riders pass by are in a much different predicament than those who have to wait for 3,000 or more riders to make their way through a busy intersection.
However, many of the bicyclists and motorists seemed to feel that allowing bicycles to rule the road for a couple of hours each month is not too much to ask.
For more information on Kansas City's monthly Critical Mass bike ride, visit (http://www.myspace.com/kccriticalmass).
Copyright 2007 Metropolitan Community College