Friday, 29. August 2008.
Today is the day of Critical Mass, San Francisco. I'll get to that later, let's first see what happens in the morning.
I take Hae out for a breakfast. We are supposed to go to some nearby place with the other two roommates (his name is Adam, her name escapes me at the moment) but halfway there they drive past us telling us they can't make it on time so we change the destination and walk for about half an hour to Emeryville to a place called Rudie Can't Fail Cafè.

They build some weird houses in Emeryville. Off the topic: what famous Punk label was located in Emeryville, CA?

Well, the name promises a lot (for the uninformed or those who have lived the last 30 years on Mars, Rudie Can't Fail is a Clash song from their third album London Calling) and we patiently wait some 20 or so minutes to be seated.
While we're waiting I check the two panels full of photos hanging off the walls and who do I see, my friend Willia from the Dutch band Bambix! They must have had a show in San Francisco and came here to eat something. Bambix is a band I got into around 1991 and in 1994 I organized a two week tour through Italy, Croatia and Slovenia, travelling with them in a van. Then together with 3 friends I visited them in 1995 on our European cruise in an old Renault 5 and even older Renault 4. Fast forward 12 years: in May 2007 I ran into them in Berlin. They even had the same roadie, Bart, with them. Good, good times!
Anyway, we get seated, get our breakfast and then split ways. Hae has to return to the gallery, while I plan to check out a few record shops, namely Amoeba and Rasputin in Berkeley. I'm by bike, so it takes me 20 minutes to get there.
Around 5 pm I hop on the Bart and get into town. I stop the first person on a bike and get directions to the Critical Mass, SF.
What the hell is a Critical Mass? Again, for Martians and those on desert islands, Critical Mass is (usually) a monthly gathering of bikers where they get on the streets and take full possession of them. The cars are outnumbered and have to stay behind the mass of bikes. The amount of bikers range from a few dozens to several thousands. In Rome, we're usually about 300-400, except this May when the "interplanetary" Critical Mass happened and had almost 5,000 participants!!
Today in San Francisco we're over a thousand, I believe.
The inspiration and the name "Critical Mass" comes from China. Apparently in China there aren't many traffic lights, so when a biker has to cross the street full of cars, he/she waits until there's a big number of bikers waiting and they cross the street all together. At that point, when the "critical mass" is reached, the cars have to stop to let the mass cross the street. Apparently, in some places, this is the only way to cross.
There are about 25-30 cops on motorcycles to follow the river of bicycles.

Yup, they're here as well.




Here we go. The start.


The mass weaves through San Francisco. Climbs up hills, rolls down hills, cruise along the sea and through the city. The people cheer and clap their hands. Some people join us. A guy stops me asking if this is the Critical Mass San Francisco. When I confirm, he says he's a part of Critical Mass Portland, Oregon.
A couple of people are riding with sound systems on the back of their bikes. Everyone is happy.












The family. ___________________________ The Bay Bridge.

There are a couple of incidents with drivers. Fortunately, nobody's hurt. Cops are of no use at all. I don't think they're having fun, but they're not helpful either.
Finally, the mass stops near the Union Square. Everyone lifts their bikes in the air.
I take photos. : )

The final act. The liberation. The joy.


My phone runs out of battery. I wander around a little longer and then head back to Oakland, via Bart. When I get back, everyone's asleep. As usual.