Continued: Ultrafit: Critically debatable

The car revved its engine from behind as I signaled a turn, my arm outstretched to indicate a left. It was just before 5 p.m. on the last Friday in July, and I was riding my bike to a gathering in Minneapolis' Loring Park. "Go get yourself killed!" came a shout from the driver as I bumped off the road.

This was my introduction to Critical Mass, a monthly gathering where cyclists meet in cities worldwide -- from Sao Paulo to St. Paul -- in a show of solidarity on city streets clogged with cars.

Since its inception in the early 1990s, Critical Mass has no doubt brought attention to how unfriendly cities can be to cyclists. But the controversial rides have also spurned violent outbursts by bikers, property damage and the deployment of riot gear on mobs of riders refusing to obey traffic laws.

In August 2007, tension between police and cyclists in Minneapolis culminated in the arrests of 19 bikers, although most charges were eventually dropped.

As social phenomena go, Critical Mass tends to polarize, be it the view that the bikers are arrogant punks bent on anarchistic confrontation or that of car drivers as smog-spewing street hogs oblivious to pedaling commuters.

As a longtime bike commuter -- although one who respects the laws of the street -- my view was somewhere between when I pedaled to the park that day.

Getting ready to ride

There is no leader at a Critical Mass. There is no common agenda. Riders meet at a universal place and time and hang out until a few people initiate a ride through the urban grid.

When I rolled up, about 200 cyclists were milling in the mist of Loring's dandelion fountain. Police watched from the north side of the park, a quiet tension seething through the crowd.

Soon we were pedaling south on Hennepin Avenue, a line of massers riding slow and blocking traffic. We took up the southbound lane. We ran red lights. Cars honked, while many pedestrians cheered.

I coasted up to Justin Kalemkiarian, 24, a mass rider from Minneapolis.

"We need to make cars aware that bikers are allowed on the road," he said.

A show of force from police

Since the August 2007 arrests, where accusations of police aggression gave the city a black eye, local law officials have walked on eggshells. In July, I counted 28 police officers spinning on mountain bikes. Squad cars circled the mass, honking, blaring sirens at will.

But tension faded as the mass took a left on Lake Street in Uptown, 10 minutes into the ride. By Lyndale Avenue, where the mass turned back north, I realized the police were blocking the intersections for us, serving to keep the ride running smoothly. The bike police ran all the red lights. They blocked traffic, some even shouting at motorists.

"Cool it, buddy," a man in blue yelled at an angry driver.

By Washington Avenue downtown, the mass had evolved into a parade, a few hundred riders tootling toward the Metrodome in a happy mood with seemingly no threat of arrest or citation.

Creating a mass diversion

The ride on the last Friday of the next month was even more handled. I biked to Loring Park on Aug. 29 after 5 p.m. to witness an armada of bike cops, squad cars and an all-terrain police vehicle topped with a lighted sign: "Have a safe ride."

Media helicopters hovered 1,000 feet up, cameras aimed at the mass in anticipation of riot. But the crowd was calm as an officer took a loudspeaker in hand.

"We're here to get you through the traffic," he said.

Indeed, as riders trickled into downtown, the police followed, bordering the outside lane, blocking the mass from behind. In what was essentially a show of support, dozens of police shepherded the mass for more than two hours, the city's committed resources undoubtedly hovering in the thousands of dollars, spent to support an aimless mob.

We rode for 10 miles, the mass gaining riders as it went, stretching to nearly a mile in length on Lake Street. One driver, stuck trying to make a left, peered down the street, shouting, "Does it ever end?"

My sentiment soured -- for the massers as well as the police -- the further we rode. If the goal was to anger drivers, the mass was doing its job. And the police were on our side, acquiescing the anarchy while at the same time making any type of protest seem sanctioned and null.

I left the pack after we detoured back through Uptown, stopping on a sidewalk to watch the mob amble by.

As a workaday rider, I want drivers to respect me on my bike. Blocking traffic, making people mad and disobeying traffic laws not only felt wrong, but meaningless, contrived, aimless -- a lot like Critical Mass.