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# Large group bike ride rolls through Santa Monica as police move in
- URL: https://www.smdp.com/prejudice-spoils-critical-mass-ride/
- Published: 2007-12-15T16:00:00.000Z
- Updated: 2026-10-25T01:30:38.000Z
- Author: Guest Author
- Tags: Opinion, Pier, #archive-import

*By* their way to the meeting point, bicycle cops rode on sidewalks with wary eyes. The story has progressed to the point that television news cameras were on hand, waiting for something. Surprisingly, few cops positioned themselves in and around the pier. Had they decided to coalesce in light of the November fiasco?

Something struck me as I sat on my bicycle in Palisades Park, waiting for the group to hit the road. I recalled the images the Daily Press had run in these very pages of the monthly rides before this whole crackdown began; pictures of families, kids with their pedal-pushing parents, bicycles decorated in Rose Parade fashion. It was a celebration, smiles abounded, neighbors mingled and the future of bike riding in the city seemed limitless.

Last week, I saw just one father who braved the night with his young son, keeping him close the whole time. The rest were the hard-core cyclists, the adamant ones willing to risk traffic tickets to assert their right to the road. The air was thick with nervousness, people watching their backs, the laughs were few and far between. Critical Mass organizers talked on walkie-talkies, relaying messages of where the men in blue awaited them — around the corners, away from the TV lights, at intersections where the throngs would certainly be separated into smaller groups. We set out with a sense of impending doom, awaiting the inevitable flashing lights of law enforcement.

As we rode together west on Colorado Avenue, north on 14th Street and west on Washington Avenue, there were feelings of euphoria as residents cheered our band of merry riders from the pavement and their streetside balconies. More than one parent stood with a young child in their arms, pointing us out as if we were a Christmas Day float parading through their very own backyard. It was then I felt tremendous pride to be a resident of Santa Monica, a place where the unusual is welcomed, where the winds of change are harnessed.

For a little while there, the police omnipresence faded away and there was sheer joy. This was what the cyclists were talking about, and how these rides were staged pretty much unfettered only months ago.

As we streamed through the downtown district, tourists watched curiously, bus riders waved and gave thumbs-up signs and cars honked their horns. Those put off by the procession seemed to be a decided minority. About one hour into the ride, Critical Mass converged on City Hall, stopping to regroup and allow splintered riders to catch up. This might just be where Dogtown met its demise. Never would such an outlaw lot be tolerated in today’s overdeveloped, money-talks, veritable police state that is Santa Monica 2007.

The cyclists, feeling emboldened, began to mock the pair of bicycle cops positioned across the street, pointing out their lack of lights, their riding on sidewalks. They were being more ironical than mean-spirited, understandably frustrated with recent attempts by the city to chase them outside of its borders, which to me, tells me they are right where they’re needed.

Within a half hour’s time, I went from extreme pride for the city in which I live — making a statement, looking to change people’s behaviors, attitudes and habits — to extreme embarrassment of those we’ve placed in charge. By this point, the TV cameras were long gone, as many of the participants had already headed off into the weekend night. It was down to the diehards, and as the riders headed south along Main Street, it seemed evident that it was time to ticket. One of the most vocal Critical Mass participants, Alex Cantarero, got picked off from the back of the procession by the bike cops, who seemed to hedge quite a bit on the reasoning for the ticket — his lights weren’t on, his lights weren’t bright enough, his lights weren’t forward facing. Each seemed lamer than the last. About 10 fellow Critical Mass riders who stopped to see what happened could plainly see a pair of lights on Cantarero’s bike, shooting forward.

We set out again and got about 20 yards before the law came crashing down again. This time, they flagged a rider dressed as Santa Claus (the symbolism is thick) for passing another bike and swerving outside of the non-existent bicycle lane. There were about 10 of us left in the group by this point, counting the two SMPD peddlers. It was senseless to continue. All the while, bike riders occasionally rolled past on the east side of Main Street sans lights and sans police attention.

The police were lying in wait. I would be walking my bike home. The selective tickets represented the worst of the SMPD. In all, there were less than 10 tickets issued on this night’s ride, but the presence was felt by everyone, including those participants who choose no longer to ride, for the hassle has become too great. The tickets I witnessed were petty and vindictive. Who were they protecting? The street was desolate.

“Are you his lawyer?” the police responded to repeated calls by the riders for an explanation of the tickets. Since when do we need an attorney for an officer to explain what we did wrong? Is that where this city is headed, this city that likes to tout itself as this forward-thinking, tolerant, cutting edge, green lifestyle oasis?

I’ll be sitting home the first Friday of January. Dogtown has had its day.

*Originally published in the Santa Monica Daily Press print edition on December 15, 2007.* [Read the original PDF.](https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/smdp%5Fbackissues/121507.pdf?ref=smdp.com)