MIdnite Ridazz
One word for bike riding in traffic in LA by yourself: scary! Two words for riding in a group of 200, many of whom are dressed in costumes from the film The Big Lebowski: fucking fun!
I joined up last night with a group of Midnite Ridazz, the Lozangeles-based flash mob bike gang; a couple hundred riders showed up for the “Fuck It, Dude,” a ride based on spots featured in the Coen Brothers film The Big Lebowski. So, we hit a coffee shop called Johnnie’s at Wilshire and Fairfax, the location of Sobchak Security on Santa Monica Boulevard, In ‘N Out Burgers on Sunset, and finally, a bolwing alley, Shatto Lanes at 4th and Vermont.
People were friendly to strangers; riders talked to me when I talked to them, nobody sneered at me even though I was riding my friend Beth’s hybrid girls bike. (In general, there were more purely utilitarian and/or department store bikes than one sees on a ride in Seattle; and while there was a fair-sized contingent of fixie kids, most people had freewheels if not gears, too.)
A major draw for the event was a performance by the Vancouver-based bicycle-inspired dance troupe, the B.C.Clettes, who rode along with us and then set up for a show in a playground at the ending point. They had done about three numbers featuring bicycle-themed movement and percussion when a cop car appeared on the hill above the park and, flashing its lights, ordered us to leave the park. “You have five minutes to get on your bikes and leave,” the cops commanded to much jeering and laughter.
Soon, however, another car showed up and threatened us with arrest. The Clettes persevered for one final number, at which point a police helicopter appeared, shining its high-powered searchlight on the crowd and the show.
This was clearly the sign to call it a night; “fuck it dude,” said the guy next to me, “let’s go bowling.”
I joined up last night with a group of Midnite Ridazz, the Lozangeles-based flash mob bike gang; a couple hundred riders showed up for the “Fuck It, Dude,” a ride based on spots featured in the Coen Brothers film The Big Lebowski. So, we hit a coffee shop called Johnnie’s at Wilshire and Fairfax, the location of Sobchak Security on Santa Monica Boulevard, In ‘N Out Burgers on Sunset, and finally, a bolwing alley, Shatto Lanes at 4th and Vermont.
People were friendly to strangers; riders talked to me when I talked to them, nobody sneered at me even though I was riding my friend Beth’s hybrid girls bike. (In general, there were more purely utilitarian and/or department store bikes than one sees on a ride in Seattle; and while there was a fair-sized contingent of fixie kids, most people had freewheels if not gears, too.)
A major draw for the event was a performance by the Vancouver-based bicycle-inspired dance troupe, the B.C.Clettes, who rode along with us and then set up for a show in a playground at the ending point. They had done about three numbers featuring bicycle-themed movement and percussion when a cop car appeared on the hill above the park and, flashing its lights, ordered us to leave the park. “You have five minutes to get on your bikes and leave,” the cops commanded to much jeering and laughter.
Soon, however, another car showed up and threatened us with arrest. The Clettes persevered for one final number, at which point a police helicopter appeared, shining its high-powered searchlight on the crowd and the show.
This was clearly the sign to call it a night; “fuck it dude,” said the guy next to me, “let’s go bowling.”
posted by Professor Dave at 11:19 AM
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