Photographer : Christina |
6am on a drizzly Friday morning. My arm, with a mind of its own, flipped haphazardly and dangerously out from the elbow, thwacking the snooze button. I stirred from the shock of this sudden movement rather than the noise of the alarm itself. My brain, hearing an organised collection of tap dancing raindrops on the metal roof and registering the greyness in the sky outside, shut down.
Half an hour later, my eyes bolt open. I fumbled out of bed and onto my yoga mat to an internal monologue.
Inhale…
‘Damn. It’s raining.’
Every morning, the same process of confused decision.
Exhale…
‘forget the bike ride, catch the bus—let go.’
Inhale…
‘Maybe the rain will stop? I want to ride!’ Decisiveness. ‘I’ll ride’.
Exhale…
From the shower and into my shorts. The weather looked like it might be ok—so changeable lately anyway. I didn’t want to miss out. I decided to ride. If the weather changed I would leave the bike at work. At least that way I would have it with me.
I peered out through the curtains. In between the shower and my bedroom, the grey clouds had come over. The heavens were spitting on my dreams. Deflated, I pulled off my shorts and pulled on my jeans. Where was my bus ticket? My jacket? I sat on the edge of my bed. Dreams of finally making it to the Critical Mass Harbour Bridge bike ride had been dashed by mental doubt. I was composing a text message to a friend in my mind and feeling critical - of the weather and of my fear of the rain. “I’m not going to make critical…”
I jumped up. Damn it. Why should a moment of indecision and a bit of water alter my plans? I’d been meaning to do this bike ride for so long now and I was about to let mental doubts get in my way yet again! I ripped off my jeans in a frenzy of determination and yanked my shorts back on decidedly. Rain or no rain, I was riding to work. I would make Critical Mass!
The weather ended up scorching and sunny that afternoon—so different from how the day first begun. I sweltered on my way to Hyde Park over the Anzac Bridge—the first time I’d done even that ride. Already I was discovering new things.
What is critical mass?
Critical Mass is, essentially, organised chaos. Cyclists from all over Sydney get together on the last Friday of every month at Hyde Park fountain to ride through the city en-mass—stopping traffic and making themselves seen and heard. It is a celebration of sustainable transport, community, education, freedom and fun. It is a way for cyclists to make their presence and importance known and felt—in a space that is usually car dominated. Critical Mass not only happens in Sydney, but in cities across Australia and the world.
Why did I choose this?
I chose to take part in Critical Mass because I am a cyclist who has frequently been frustrated by drivers’ attitudes to us on the roads. I also think that the way we live is killing the planet—the organism that sustains us! High level consumption of fossil fuels is a big contributor and I don’t like feeling personally responsible for making things worse on a daily basis. I try to do what I can to make a difference, and for me, cycling is a big part of this! In addition, cycling is often faster for me to get where I need to go— and more convenient. I don’t enjoy riding through the middle of the city, breathing in polluted air or dodging traffic, and riding can be pretty difficult. Sometimes I just don’t want to do it. I’d prefer to get to my destination in one piece. Unfortunately, drivers often have a low tolerance, regard or recognition for cyclists and their rights. Critical Mass aims to increase this awareness.
What happened?
We met at 5:30 at Hyde Park, to set off at 6pm. The last Friday in November typically draws the biggest crowd because the ride goes over the Sydney Harbour Bridge and, in celebration, hundreds of cyclists—young and old—gathered around the fountain dressed in a varied array of cycling garb…leggings, business suits, bright purple shorts, skirts, pigtails, dreadlocks and spunky vogue-like haircuts. Police and bicycle couriers alike oozed their way out of the park and onto Elizabeth Street in an excited and anticipatory throng.
Police stopped traffic as we rode, tooted, chanted, sung and laughed our way in a giant circle through the city, copping irritated motorist abuse as we went. Confused pedestrians asked questions, friends got separated and made new ones as hundreds of cyclists rode over the Cahill expressway and took over 4 lanes on the Harbour Bridge. A nutty bicycle couriering cyclist next to me stood up on his pedals and stepped up on to the cross bar of his bicycle with both feet. Holding on to the handlebars he continued to roll along - lifting one leg up behind him in a dancers pose, gracefully coasting. I had fearful visions of a bloody face plant that, luckily, didn’t eventuate!
Once over the bridge we tackled the hill up through north Sydney to the park, where we gathered again before disbanding in smaller excited groups to our various destinations. As the whole of the Newtown cycle set came together and scooted over the bridge with the company of the setting sun I smiled to myself – realising the existence of so many little sub communities within our giant city. I was glad to be a part of this one!
The event didn’t end there—with a remaining group of us holing up in the back room of a local Turkish pizza place to loud, raucous conversation, laughter, and the not-so-sweet smell of sweat! One of the riders impressed us all by his riding commitment – all the way from Parramatta/Guildford, to the city and back EVERY DAY. There are actually, surprisingly, quite a few people out there that are this dedicated!
What did I learn?
How much fun it can be to ride with a group of like-minded people, when you don’t have to be paranoid about being hit by a car! I had visions of the amazing and community focused place Sydney could be if there were traffic restrictions and more adequate cycling provisions. The air felt almost breatheable! It’s so much easier to ride long distances when you’re having fun and riding with other people—and it puts a very different spin on daily life. The outcome is that drivers and pedestrians are forced into thinking about cycling and their attitudes towards it, while the cycling community gets an awesome opportunity to bond, stake their claim on public space, and make their voices heard.
“Never doubt that a small group of committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has”
Margaret Mead.
How can you find out more?
http://www.criticalmass.org.au/ http://www.bikesarefun.org/faq.html
