There was an argument made a few months ago that “real bike people live in North Beach,” presumably because of the giant hills they have to ascend just to get to the corner store. Well, this local cyclist/film-maker shows us that real cyclists not only go up and down SF's steepest hills, they drink coffee and do their hair in the process.
After years of unexpected jealously towards our neighbors in San Jose and Oakland, San Francisco finally has its very own monthly Bike Party. The party is much like Critical Mass in which it is a regularly-scheduled group ride (
second first Friday of every month) that everyone is welcome to attend. However, they eschew many of Critical Mass's more anarchic and, ahem, controversial practices: no riding in the left lane, stop at all lights, no splitting up the group, ride predetermined routes, and ride past all conflict. But perhaps best of all, every month has a party theme, such as zombies and pizza sandwiches. Yes, pizza sandwiches. And while Critical Mass will always be king thanks to its pioneering legacy and spontaneous parking garage acrobatics, it's always nice to see an upstart bicycle dance party rolling through the city giving us a second group ride fix every month.
If you want to check out this inaugural 2011 ride, head over to the Willie Mays Gate at Giants Stadium this Friday at 7:30.
Also, the guy in the Reese's jersey and gym pants is a god.
Speaking of bike theft in the Mission, it sounds like shit also went down at Pop's last night. From a reader who'd prefer to stay anonymous:
major drama at pop's last night. i guess some dude caught this latino guy wearing ed hardy trying to steal his bike and started confronting him. the bartender got in the middle of it, got up into the thiefs face and started yelling at him to get a real job and stop stealing peoples shit. i started taking pictures, but the thief's buddy started yelling “this girls taking pictures! this girls taking pictures!” i went back into the bar and the friend followed me and cornered me in the bar to make sure i didn't take his pic. i have no idea if they called the cops or what happened to the bike thief because i got the fuck outta there.
For the interested, this is the same dude that we posted about back in August. Lock yer shit up, people.
A few weeks ago, a buddy of mine cracked his bike frame in four places. So, less than a week ago, he picked up a new frame and some parts from Mission Bicycle that set him back a few hundred dollars. All good, right? Well, last night I had persuaded him to roll down the hill from Alamo Square to Doc's Clock. After a couple of pints and a pinball ass-whooping delivered by yours truly, we made our way to the sidewalk only to find his bike short a few necessary components.
While you might think the story ends there, it doesn't. His girlfriend picks him up in her car at 1:30am, they toss the bike on her bike rack and drive off. Well, at some point during the drive home, the entire rack fell off the car. As you can imagine, they couldn't find it.
- Fuck bike thieves.
- Bad luck does come in threes.
- If you happened to come across an reddish fixie missing a front wheel attached to a bike rack in the middle of the road late last night, do let us know.
Take it away, Bruce McCulloch:
The answer to that question is there is no such thing as a “hipster.” But, let us allow them to explain their theory anyway:
It’s a question that’s no doubt top-of-mind for every armchair sociologist in the neighborhood: Given our proximity to the Mission, to say nothing of our spiritual and aesthetic affinity to same, why doesn’t Bernal Heights have a higher concentration of hipsters?
My analysis suggests the answer lies squarely at the intersection of Fashion Boulevard and Topography Way. Specifically, the relative dearth of hipsters in Bernalwood can only be explained by the fact that riding around here on a fixie just plain sucks. In the hipster’s obligatory skinny jeans, it may even be impossible. Ergo, few hipsters.
Nope, that's not it. In fact, two of the biggest industry dirt bags I know lived up in Bernal before moving out of town. One, in fact, used to co-own a messenger company, so if their theory is solely baked around the tired “hipsters ride fixies” stereotype, they got it wrong.
So, why don't cool kids want to live in Bernal Heights? Is it because there is no critical mass of people migrating there? Is it because the view from the top of Dolores is all one needs? It's too quiet? No bars? Too many kids?? Because Bernal Heights residents generalize and mock modern urban culture???
Start saying your goodbyes to the awesome (or awesomely ugly, if you prefer) “Three Heads, Six Arms” statue at Civic Center plaza, because the behemoth work by Zhang Huan will be packing up and leaving town next Spring according to NBC Bay Area.
They also have a PSA on how to photograph oneself at the statue:
Please don't all rush at once to climb on it for a photo opportunity though, we're fairly certain that China would like it back without too many footprints. (And also: you shouldn't be climbing on artwork anyway. For shame!)
(photo by terry.b, who, once again, is worth a follow on Flickr)
Last night I attended Winterfest, which is the Bike Coalition's annual shindig to celebrate cycling and raise some cash for the organization. Of course, before I even had a chance to dismount from my bike as I arrived, one of the people staffing the bike valet actually made fun of the bike I was riding. I guess that pretty much tells you everything you need to know about the inclusiveness of the SF bike industry.
Anyway, despite being made felt unwelcome, they had some really rad art up for auction. It was all too rich for my blood, but let's take a look regardless:
Untitled by Jamie Vasta, who makes a ton of glitter artwork.
ABCyclopedia: An Incomplete Guide to Cycling by Adrian Cotter.
They Know Our Streets Better Than We Do by Allison Kendall. The guy who happened to win this piece was hovering over it for a while prior to closing. Even when I went to take a picture of it he started talking about how it was soon to be hanging up on his wall. He really wanted this.
Finally, continuing our coverage of SF art with lazer eyes is Return of the Scorcher. Unfortunately I didn't note this artist's last name (first name Hugh), so feel free to clue me in.