<http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/chronicle/a/2002/09/28/MN228486.DTL>
Cycle of conflict Boisterous Critical Mass bicycle ride caps S.F.'s timid first attempt at a car-free day
Saturday, September 28, 2002
The larger-than-usual turnout for the 10th anniversary celebration of the Critical Mass ride raised spirits among bicyclists and blood pressure among motorists, some of whom idled in traffic for 20 minutes or longer.
Police arrested about a dozen people during the ride Friday, topping off a day of combustion-engine disdain in San Francisco that included the city's first official Car-Free Day.
The arrests were for everything from assault to failing to disperse, police said. Several riders suffered minor injuries.
The two-wheeled throng -- estimates by police and organizers ranged from 3, 000 to 5,000 riders -- got so thick when it hit Union Square that some cyclists had to walk their bikes past tourists snapping photos. As the riders cruised through the Tenderloin, residents opened their windows and toasted them. Police said riders stretched nearly 40 blocks at one point.
When the crowd hit 18th and Dolores streets, near the end of the ride at around 8:30 p.m., more than 200 riders remained in the intersection, locked in a stare-down with three dozen police officers wearing riot helmets and holding batons. After about 30 minutes, tension eased and the police walked away.
Even though Critical Mass has occurred on the last Friday of every month for the past decade, some motorists were caught unaware. Or just didn't care to celebrate.
The driver of a Lincoln Continental near Larkin and Ellis streets didn't wait for the riders to pass. He inched forward, knocking over a cyclist. The rider picked up his bike and slammed it on the hood of the driver's car. The driver emerged, and got into an altercation with the cyclist, who suffered a bloody nose.
Others motorists were frustrated, like the woman who got out of her car that was stranded on Steuart Street, three cars back from the parade of passing bikes. She walked toward the intersection of Steuart and Howard crying and screaming at passing cyclists.
"I'm pissed," said the woman, who declined to give her name. "It's costing me $10 for every five minutes I'm late picking up my daughter at day care."
Matt Gabard, 27, of San Francisco was stuck in his SUV for 20 minutes near the corner of Mission Street and the Embarcadero. Passing riders yelled, "Get out of your car," and "How much does it cost to fill up that thing?"
"Yeah, I'm a bit frustrated," Gabard said. "It's a bit rude. I feel antagonized. As far as the whole bike thing goes, they ought to be working with us (motorists). They're too adversarial."
Some drivers didn't treat the anniversary celebrants too kindly. The passengers in one SUV cruising down the Embarcadero unimpeded by the cyclists rolled down their windows, yelled obscenities and flipped off the riders.
Rudeness went two ways. A driver got out of his idled car near Mission Street and Embarcadero to jaw at riders. After he climbed back in, three cyclists sat on his hood to make sure he didn't try pushing into the throng.
The scattered scuffles belied the upbeat vibe that hummed under the preride gathering at Justin Herman Plaza.
BICYCLING FOR 'JOE NORMAL'
Claudia Eyzaguirre dressed in a silver lame top, black miniskirt and silver tights to celebrate the anniversary ride. "(Critical Mass) has shown that bicycling is not just for sideshow freaks," said the 26-year-old Berkeley resident. "I mean, we look like freaks, but that's just us. Most of these people are just Joe Normal."
Like George Wesely, 35, of San Francisco, who pulled his 7-year-old son on a trailer bike behind him for the youngster's first Critical Mass. And Sarah Kaplan, 23, who came from Chicago with six friends, and passed out tiny cartoon books a pal drew. Others wore stickers reading, "Help Prevent Death -- Stop Driving," and some wore banners opposing military action in Iraq.
"This is amazing," said Chris Carlsson, one of the founders of Critical Mass, as he surveyed Justin Herman.
Earlier in the day, Carlsson was tossing a Frisbee at high noon in the middle of Montgomery Street, which was closed off to traffic for the city's first Car-Free Day.
Well, sort of closed off; local merchants pressured city officials to open three streets of traffic to cross Montgomery Street. The event wasn't totally car-free. Mayor Willie Brown, for one, tooled around Montgomery in one of several electric cars on display.
"It's alternative transportation day," Brown corrected. "And that's not a car. That's a golf cart."
Police estimate that the car-free celebration drew 150 people who wouldn't ordinarily be walking along Montgomery between 10 a.m. and 2 p.m. People like an inline-skating Elvis impersonator and two women driving giant battery- powered pink bunny slipper cars. The born-in-San Francisco monthly ride through rush-hour traffic has spread to 300 other countries.
And the link between Car-Free Day and pink slipper cars is . . .
"Wouldn't you like to wear your slippers when you drive to work?" said slipper driver Lisa Pongrace. When it was pointed out that it would probably be more hygienic to wear slippers while driving rather than on Muni, Pongrace said, "Oh, that's sooooo 20th century."
MOVEMENT'S BABY STEPS
Every movement -- and that's what San Francisco Supervisor Sophie Maxwell called Car-Free Day at a Commonwealth Club transportation gathering Friday morning -- starts with baby steps. First, Maxwell said, you've got to get people to think differently about public space.
That might be difficult. Even though Montgomery was closed to cars for nearly four hours, many people continued to cling to the sidewalks.
Some riders are still pondering what the day all meant.
Jonathan Zwickel, 27, was overwhelmed by his first Critical Mass. "It's much more than I expected. I thought I'd be going on a little ride. This is a statement. No, it's an exclamation."
Unless you're in a car. Then it's an expletive.
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