It happens every last Friday of the month.
No posters, no Facebook invites, no traditional publicity, and yet it happens every month like clockwork.
Well, not exactly like clockwork, because there is no official start time. It begins when enough people feel like it’s time to begin (Kairos time keeps creeping into my life experiences and my blog).
It’s called Critical Mass and it’s the most obnoxious bike ride Kansas City offers. On the last Friday, around 6:00 or so, the cyclists begin gathering at the Westport Sunfresh. About an hour and several beers later, someone starts riding around the parking lot and people gradually join him. They are massing.
It’s pretty much impossible to not fit in with this group. The ages range from 5 to, well, up there. There are dirt bikes, mountain bikes, recumbent bikes, road bikes, cruisers, and a few that I don’t even know where to begin with description. Cyclists dress in jeans, athletic gear, dresses, sweats, and just about everything else. The only thing missing is neckties.
When the mass is large enough, someone leads the group of nearly a hundred cyclists out of the parking lot and down the street. For the next couple of hours, the mass rides through Westport, The Plaza, Westport again, The Plaza again, downtown, and the river market. Traffic lights and lanes hold little meaning for this band of merry bikers. At major intersections, a few riders stop directly in front of potentially oncoming vehicles to ensure that they don’t enter the intersection while the mass is riding through.
The reactions from motorists and pedestrians are mixed. Many smile and wave back to the cyclists calling out to them, “Happy Friday!” A few, not used to KC’s urban traditions, get annoyed and blare their horns or scream obscenities. This 5 minute delay in their lives’ plans is more than they can tolerate.
What’s the point? There is no obvious political agenda. If they were seriously trying to promote a “share the road” attitude between cyclists and motorists they would respect traffic laws. No common social or religious thread binds these people together.
So maybe there is no point.
Or, rather, the point is exactly what they say it is, “Happy Friday.” The point is that a large group of people gather once a month to laugh, act silly, and Puckishly defy the guidelines and norms that rule over us the rest of the month. The point is to intentionally not take life so seriously, even if only for a couple of hours. The point is that an impish young woman and her bike holding back a monstrous black Hummer is a beautiful sight.
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