To Waterloo Bridge! …on Friday evening for the end of month roll out with Critical Mass.
Are we still riding this?
*still* we ride, etc.
I’ve long since forgotten my first Mass now. My memory said some time around ’98. I can only connect this by referencing it with my riding companion at the time - a work colleague from back in the ITN basement days.
Much of London may have changed over the past 15 years or so, but the Mass remains the same.
More or less…
The ‘advertised’ [Critical Mass is NEVER advertised] roll out time of 7pm of course never happens.
Rolling out with #CriticalMass Ldn. Chapeau! pic.twitter.com/oHtv46kuRv
— Jason_Cobb (@Jason_Cobb) January 29, 2016
Le Grand Depart from underneath the arches on Friday evening wasn’t until sometime after 7:15pm. And then the snake procession around the Imax meant that the ride didn’t really start the celebrations until we had crossed Waterloo Bridge.
Another constant for the ride is to admire the sheer diversity of bicycles being ridden.
I was on the Cobb Deluxe for the evening, my London bicycle of choice. I could plot some socio-economic graph of the different types of bicycles that I have ridden on the Mass over the years, each reflecting the seamless trend I followed in London bike fashions.
It’s not a cat walk, y’know.
But yeah - messenger style mini frames, fixies, Bromptons - they’ve all joined me on the random ride each month.
A growing trend on the Mass is the appearance of Boris Bikes.
Oh dear.
But wait!
It ‘aint all that bad. Having anyone ride the Mass has to be a good thing. I think I was slightly envious to be honest of the Borid Bike kid who was able to pull off the most audacious wheelies heading up the Strand underpass.
Chapeau! fella.
I'm with him #CriticalMass pic.twitter.com/rI89GfQIyZ
— Jason_Cobb (@Jason_Cobb) January 29, 2016
The sound systems for Friday were mixed. My usual tactic is to sniff out the dirty D & B, and then follow that wheel.
I somehow became stuck behind some old fella with what looked like an old school cassette player, pumping out the sounds of traditional Irish music.
It did my head in to be honest.
We came dangerously close to hitting Hampstead after a slow passage through Camden.
No one wants to do that on a Friday night.
Thankfully a swing to the right saw us through Kentish Town, and then a drink and smoke break outside Granary Square. The security chaps patrolling the public / private [?] space were very chilled. I liked their style; they liked ours.
The Euston underpass was a bit of a Critical Mass moment. I think I picked up cramp from ringing my bicycle bell.
I was surprised that the perennial Critical Mass question of:
“What are you doing?”
…from folk on the street didn’t happen at all for me on Friday evening.
Instead I was asked in the West End:
“What charity are you riding for?”
Why does any mass of cyclists now have to be associated with fund raising?
Live to ride, ride to live, etc.
The Mass didn’t stay too long around the West End. This is no bad thing. You want to join in with the Friday night party, but not piss people off.
We headed down towards Trafalgar Square, and I could see the bright lights of Transpontonia in the distance.
I could also sense that it was about to piss it down.
I made my excuses and cycled back to Sunny Stockwell.
Still we ride.