The Moonlit Mob
For certain biking enthusiasts, day riding is just not enough. In the hands of the veteran MMR leader, Jefferson MCcarley, a group of complete strangers will meet at midnight and ride as a unit to a mysterious and unknown destination. And so exists The Midnight Mystery Ride(San Francisco Chapter).
Immediately I was enthralled with this concept of urban night riding. Who were these people? Why were they doing this? I had to get some answers, so I decided to experience it for myself. This mobile flash mob convenes every 3rd Saturday of the month. Starting locations remain absolutely secret until the day of the ride (regardless of how much you pester them with emails - trust me, I know). Finally, I see the starting location on the website as the unsettling reality of what I’m about to do sinks in. Was I even going to be biking at all? Maybe there’ll be a group of thugs waiting for me, or possibly a cult initiation? I decide to bring a couple friends with me.
I pedal my way into the desolate park half past 11. I look into the field and notice the crowd has already begun to assemble. Cycling suits, tattoos, Mohawks, and businessmen all mingle in the same group. There are upside down bikes getting their chains oiled up and wine bottles being passed around in the next circle. Introductions and small talk linger. There is an undeniable sense of excitement and uneasiness in the air. Flickering lights and reflectors litter the grassy area. As midnight approaches, the wheels continue to roll in.
Jefferson stands valiantly in front of the crowd and makes an announcement that we will be taking off shortly. He’s a tall man with bleach blonde spikes and a goatee to match who exudes a passion and love for bicycles I have never seen.
Jefferson, like most, left bicycling in his childhood. He walked around, or drove most of his early adult life. That is until one serendipitous day in San Juan, Puerto Rico when he happened to pass by a neighborhood garage sale and saw a rusty old road bike. “Perfect,” he thought, “It’s a practical way to get around.” He had no idea that it would be the beginning of a lifetime passion. Today he lives a block away from Mission Bicycles in San Francisco, CA where he just happens to be the General Manager of the store. Jefferson explains with certain sentiment, “It brought back a lot of the memories of what the bicycle represented to me as a kid – which was freedom and exploration.”
I didn’t realize how much the group had grown until we mounted our bikes and swarmed the streets. We must’ve been at least 200 strong. Ready for adventure. In speaking with Jefferson, one of my first curiosities was to ask, “why at night”, but I already knew the answer. When the crawling ants of the city go to sleep, it comes to life in ways you would never imagine. The same streets you bike every day suddenly move and breathe in foreign methods. You glide through the roads with new enthusiasm because it sounds different. It looks new. Street lamps you’re sure were never there before suddenly illuminate the sidewalks like a Christmas tree. At this late hour, when most are safely tucked away in their beds, we’re roaring down the lanes in our mass of hundreds. We own the city.
I’m just starting to get a bearing on the whole situation. My eyes have finally adjusted to the clutter of blinking bike lights that shower my vision when suddenly we turn into a shipping port. We approach huge cargo containers and more darkness. Jefferson yells to the group in warning that at this time, we must all turn out our lights. Are we breaking the law? The rebel in me is indifferent, although a horde of bikers with no lights in pitch-black darkness seems like inevitable disaster. I imagine a domino effect of collisions. Everyone is shocked, but excited at the added element of mystery. This operation has suddenly turned covert.
With MMR rides, the route is everything. Jefferson admits that he’s obsessive when designing these journeys. “I want to show people something they’ve never seen before. I’m kind of a geek about unique spots and interesting historical locations that aren’t common knowledge. I work at collecting these things. This ride was a great excuse for me to string them together on a map and then share them with people.” He goes on to tell me that it’s not about finding the quickest route or even the most scenic one. He wants to encourage the feeling of discovery. Riding through the piers for example, we turn the corner of a metal container and suddenly a monstrous cargo ship slaps your vision, as it lies majestic on the starlit water. The crowd can’t help but to just stop for a minute and soak it in. Some take pictures. Some just stare.
The mobile party comes to a halt at an abandoned warehouse that has been decorated with lights. Everyone is parking their bikes as the adrenaline continues to surge through their veins. Jefferson has arranged for musicians and a short film to be projected on a brick wall for entertainment. He says, “More than 50% of the bikers show up alone...because of this, people are more open and maybe more vulnerable. It makes for a much more friendly situation.” And I felt it. Embracing eyes and contagious smiles were plenty. As we sit and socialize, calmness starts to blanket the crowd. We know this is the end. We feel proud. We’re satisfied.
I rode home that night trying to absorb what had just happened. It was mysterious. Invigorating. I met some amazing people and had this unique experience without having spent one dollar. I asked Jefferson what motivates him to invest such time into providing this kind of night for total strangers. With a humble tone, he says “If we can get people excited about riding, that’s a big victory. We’re making our followers missionaries. Somebody that does this ride is inspired. Maybe for the first time in a while. Maybe the bike’s been dusted off and the tires have been inflated for the first time in a long time and now it’s ready to go. It’s top of mind. And our goal here is to get people on bikes.”
