<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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