San Francisco cyclists raising awareness, animosity

SAN FRANCISCO -- The sea of bicyclists surges up this city's Financial District, a boisterous mass of freewheeling humanity, 1,500 riders strong. Pedaling six abreast, they send pedestrians scurrying as rush-hour traffic hits the brakes.

A cable car slows, engulfed by riders who whoop and holler or chat on cellphones. A traffic light goes red, green, and red again. Still the bikes keep coming.

As a bystander high-fives passing cyclists, one car in a line of idling motorists lets loose with a long, blaring, impatient horn blast. A tourist snaps a photograph and asks: "Are you protesting global warming?" "No," one rider shouts back, "we're taking over the streets!"

Some people call it a bicycle insurrection against the thoughtless motorists who hog city streets. Others say it's about nothing more than fun.

On the last Friday of each month, the cyclists of Critical Mass embark on an unrehearsed cross-town jaunt that, for a few hours, transforms the urban landscape.

When Critical Mass hits the streets, bikes rule. Sometimes with sharp elbows, riders brush aside the cars, trucks, and buses that stand in their way. And, often, tempers flare.

Bicyclists and drivers get into fights, people slam bike locks onto car hoods, and police have filed charges amid pointed turf battles. A decade ago, Mayor Willie Brown declared war on the marauding cyclists, whose exploits he dismissed as "the ultimate arrogance." But Critical Mass stubbornly survived, and even flourished.

Started in 1992 by a handful of idealists, the free-form events have spread to every continent but Antarctica and to about 300 cities worldwide, including Boston.

Next month, the ride celebrates its 15th year. But it has no leaders, no route plans, no spokespeople.

"How the rides unfold is always a mystery," said Chris Carlsson, a ride cofounder and editor of the book "Critical Mass: Bicycling's Defiant Celebration." "They're predictable yet unknowable. People keep coming back to see what will happen."

Critical Mass riders, who refer to themselves as "massers," insist that they're not tying up traffic -- they are the traffic, albeit a two-wheeled variety. Their aim is to force cars to share the road and leave enough room for bike lanes, so cyclists will not have to fear injury and death.

"For 29 days a month, cars call the shots. It's Auto Mass," said Kate McCarthy, a member of the San Francisco Bicycle Coalition. "But for a few hours of one day, we turn the tables. We take the streets back."

The rides develop their own loopy anarchy. One thing is certain: Cyclists gather at 6 p.m. at the foot of Market Street. After that, anything goes. False starts are common as would-be leaders try to lure the group in one direction. No one knows where the ride will go or when riders will depart.

Some motorists criticize the bicyclists as arrogant.

"There's an incredible self-righteousness, like the traffic laws obviously aren't made for them," said blogger Rob Anderson, who has written about the massers. "We're all trapped in our tin cans, while they ride unfettered. They run people out of crosswalks, yelling, 'Get out of our way! We're not burning fossil fuels!' "

While his predecessor feuded with Critical Mass riders, Mayor Gavin Newsom has extended an olive branch of sorts. Last year, he named the head of the Bicycle Coalition (which says it is independent from Critical Mass but advertises the rides on its website) as a commissioner overseeing the city's powerful Municipal Transportation Agency.

Meanwhile, in the 15 years since Critical Mass began, the number of San Francisco bike commuters has doubled to more than 2 percent of the population.

Bike activists successfully have lobbied for more cycling lanes, bicycle racks on buses, and a weekend ban on cars in popular Golden Gate Park.

The city charter even guarantees that "bicycling shall be promoted" in any drafting plans for traffic flow and public safety.

"Critical Mass energized the bicycle movement here," said former Berkeley cyclist David Cohen. "It lent a sort of spiritual energy, the idea that we could gather en masse. There were no leaders. We were all leaders." That's one point of view.

Four years after leaving office, Brown still steams at the mention of Critical Mass. "They're bad for the city," he said. "They disrupt honest people trying to get home from work. That's their whole point."

The rides were replicated elsewhere, as were the confrontations. In New York, arrests of bikers are common. In Santa Monica, one cyclist was arrested in June, prompting a meeting between police and ride organizers. But those encounters are rare.

Carlsson is elated, even a bit baffled, by the success of the event he helped create 15 years ago.

"San Francisco has a reputation as a contrarian place," said Carlsson, 50, a desktop publisher. "People have a different idea how to make life richer and more artistic and profoundly more emotional than the capitalist world wants for us. Critical Mass seized that spirit."