Biking As An Act of Protest
October 14th, 2022 I was struck by a car while riding my bicycle. It was a dark night and the car was a Portland Police Bureau vehicle. They struck the back of my tire, not me directly, but the impact sent me careening hard into another car, parked on the adjacent street. I crashed against the object, then landed directly on my face, as I flew over the handlebars. The impact left me lying in the road, realizing how messed up my arm and face were. I cracked a collarbone, a rib and got a black eye. But I survived and realized I was lucky.
Now mind you, I am an experienced biker. I have ridden cycles since I was a child and have really been into road bikes for the last couple of years. I am skilled on a bike, but this incident left me wondering how this happened. Although I recognize the night was dark and the circumstances were not anyone’s fault entirely, I blame the officer for refusing to stop. Then I thought of friends that I have had that have been struck by vehicles. It sometimes wasn’t anyone’s fault and you have to look at a city known for bike access. I asked myself, how could this happen to me? In a city so known for bikes, with most roads suited for them, how could I have ended up in an intense accident, like my friends?
Portland, the largest city in Oregon, is a unique place. The Rose City stands as a bastion for leftist, underground, and countercultures. The city is deeply progressive compared to the greater state and the nation. Here, people care deeply about a variety of causes, from climate change to police brutality, to protests in solidarity with native communities across the globe and Palestine. What I would argue is that the issue the City of Portland has pursued the most is combating climate change. This city, known for bridges and breweries, is known for one way that we curb emissions. Portland is a center of bike culture. This is a big part of the reason I decided to move here.
Portland has created the most bike-friendly cities in the United States, rivaling European cities for ease of access to plentiful bike lanes and greenways. The city has created miles of unique infrastructure to support not only the locals who own bikes, but also an expansive rental program to facilitate better transportation. It is consistently rated as one of the best cities for biking, by magazines such as Outdoors, Backcountry, REI, and other journals.
However, as I learned first-hand, Portland does not rank first in bike safety, compared to cities even larger than the metropolitan area. I was struck by a police cruiser. Riders and cyclists continue to be struck by vehicles. Compared to other cities of its size, according to the National Safety Council, Portland is relatively safe. However, while numbers of cyclist deaths historically remained low on average, ranking just behind Washington D.C., the amount of deaths over the last 4 years outpaces Minneapolis, Boston, D.C., and Seattle. Considering the much larger size of these cities in comparison to Portland, this should be concerning to anyone. I follow a magazine and local journal called Bike Portland. They consistently cover incidents of drivers being struck by vehicles, often writing articles about their lives.
Where did this building of bike infrastructure stem from? Through a series of major historical events, Portland has become a unique progressive in the States, especially in Oregon.
In the early 1880s bikes became popular in the United States due to newer industrial developments following the Civil War and as part of the Gilded Age. Portland was, at that point, still a newly growing city. It’s also interesting to study the history of General Strikes and other labor movements in the city that forced people to use the simple bike roads that had been carved around the town. Considering cars weren’t a major thing, especially in a newer city in the West, it makes sense. Working class people historically have used bicycles, which seemed like a miracle for speedier transport. My workplace has a vintage map (if it’s a reprint it sure looks authentic) from the 1905 Columbia Exposition that invites people to take Portland’s roads on bikes, detailing safe zones.
On BikePortland.Org, a local institution that advocates for pedestrian safety, I read an article titled “130 years of Portland’s transportation history in one chart”. The first graphic contained a chart, recorded by the city, that tried to track and estimate the amount of people using various forms of transportation since it was founded. It ended in the early 1980s when the graph was recorded. They tracked a boom in cycling in the city during the 1880s. You see a spike in the 1910s-20s, which I would attribute to the cost of fuel and the first World War. It grew during the era of the Great Depression, unable to afford to build cars. It continued to expand during the Second World War, which can be attributed to rationing of gas due to the need to supply the fight against Nazi Germany and Imperial Japan. You see a sharp decline with the prosperity of the middle class during the 50s and early 60s. By then cars were so publicly available and America saw a financial boom following the global war.
Then, in the late 60s, bike usage grew. The 60s and 70s brought environmental activism to the city, which could help explain the shift towards bikes. The city launched the first bike program in 1973. In order to protect the environment early on, the city built scores of bike paths to begin to transition to a bike-friendly city. Various other movements, like Civil Rights and the Anti-War protests during the American invasion of Vietnam, brought activism to a city beginning to blossom in the 60s and 70s. They built on one another and continued the shift in Portland to a city of liberal values, which focused on climate change in various ways.
In the mid 90s, another movement began to take place across the West Coast. Beginning in California, bikers would call for “Critical Mass” rides. Their goal was to shut down portions of a city en masse, in order to remind people the importance of sharing the road, and the need for bike-friendly infrastructure. They biked as a form of protest against climate degradation and for pedestrian and cyclist safety in cities. The movement was uniquely anarchist, both by its supporters and the decentralized gatherings that existed without a hierarchy; a direct action towards a common goal.
I read a book titled, “Critical Mass: Bicycling’s Defiant Celebration” by Anna Sojourner. She details the rise of the Critical Mass movement as a leftist summer ride that spread to 400 cities, including Portland in the 90s. She states:
“Critical Mass is not a protest but a demonstration, in the simplest sense of the word. It is a demonstration of social space, the rarest bird in America. It works, because people automatically feel it’s right, though many of us have never before experienced free public space. Critical Mass cut through the noise and inertia of the American transportation system and taught us to carve a wedge of our city for ourselves. It feeds us a reality we use to create a vision.” — Anna Sojourner
In Portland, this became an annual thing. Eventually, after a few years, it became an official event, and the first “Pedalpalooza” was held. Pedalpalooza is a bike festival. Originally it has been held throughout the month of June, as summer hits the city. Over the last two years (after a hiatus due to the global COVID-19 pandemic) they have now announced it as a “bike summer” every month of summer.
Every night of the summer, bike rides will start at separate locations and bike around the city as a group. Since it became a staple of culture, it became a celebration, a party, and still an act of protest. Each bike ride has a different theme, and you can find nearly any niche reflected in the rides. This summer I did the Prince ride, in honor of the birthday of the late great musician (side note, he grew up in Minneapolis, part of the reason I dig the genius). Bikers traversed the city blasting speakers with such classic songs as Raspberry Beret, Erotic City, and Purple Rain. I also participated in the Summer Solstice ride and a couple Thursday Night Rides. The biggest rides, that I didn’t get to join, are the Loud and Lit nights alongside the Naked Bike Ride. Loud and Lit is a party where people drink, smoke, blast music, and bike. It is far more social and lets you met scores of Portland bikers. The Naked Bike Ride is an interesting case, where thousands bike around at night in the nude. Although public nudity remains illegal by technicality, the city acknowledges that because it is an act of protest, they cannot intervene. So it remains one of the largest rides of the summer, much to Portlanders’ chagrin and amusement. Not everyone rides fully nude, but people are respectful to each other if so, as a custom.
A notable thing is that there are Pedalpalooza rides that pay tribute to various people struck by vehicles. Those who attend the events become a group that gets to know regulars, people that enjoy bikes and enjoy socializing around their shared culture of cycling. I often read posts from the Pedalpalooza page on Instagram, that memorializes someone that had an impact on their community who passed. Sometimes it’s natural causes, separate incidents, or their own struggles. Usually however, it’s the result of a careless driver that strikes someone cycling.
Tracking local pages too, I see various groups built around pedestrian safety, alongside biker safety. I have ridden my bike past protests by Portlanders, wearing bright colors, and holding signs to remind people that people’s safety has to be remembered. It often follows a cyclist being struck at an intersection. As a bustling city, they hold space on the sidewalks and sometimes road to make a statement about the space we share. I always give them a fist, and they cheer.
After my accident I appreciate them even more. I did some research into bike statistics after the fact, and like I mentioned before, Portland is not the safest. According to a 2019 Traffic Safety Report from the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration, Portland ranks above Washington DC, Boston, San Francisco, and various other major cities in cyclist fatalities in the United States. We do well compared to most of the top 50 cities tracked by the report, but it still is not ideal for us having the most infrastructure developed for bike safety.` But from 2017 to 2021, we saw a drastic increase in the rate of vehicular homicides. In 2021, Portland saw twenty more deaths than the years before in average, up to a rate of 47, nearly double!
Bikes have become an integral part of the culture, especially among the activist base that still defines this city. The art of blockading with bicycles, originally used by Critical Mass activists, began to be used in protest regularly. And protest they have. This city is vibrant with political activism, very intense activism.
There are scores of causes that people protest for and against, especially with one of the most historically racist and violent police departments in the United States. The most unique in the city has been the consistent clashes between opposing political ideologies that began in earnest leading up to Trump’s election in 2016 and exploded into a cold civil war during the 2020 election and attempted coup d'état. This is mainly what I covered across the Pacific Northwest, and why being able to be on a bike has been vital, as I can travel quickly all over town and be able to separate from the fray.
But how do we use bikes in a protest? This is something that I can speak to, as someone who rides my bike as my mode of transportation. I am politically active, especially when mass protests break out. In my position I am what is called a “corker”. When I arrive at the protest I will ride around the outskirts until I spot fellow cyclers
The bicycle is a brilliant invention and useful protest tool for a variety of reasons. It allows me to scout ahead for police or vigilante types. Sometimes I have to deescalate a situation with someone growing uneasy. I am able to protect people with a few others by placing my bike in the way. Often it’s helpful to have a line between the police and protesters. It can also be helpful to escape an area quickly or to grab medical supplies. Corkers, some in cars, are responsible for the relative safety of the group. We ensure we get out safely and don’t face direct attacks from vehicles.
A bike is also useful when confronting the far right head on. This has occurred in counter protests to the presence of fascist groups like Patriot Prayer and the Proud Boys. Bikes serve as valuable modes of transportation to break up skirmishes, and put distance between violent groups.
In Portland this has become a harsh reality. In February of 2022, a man with Neo-Nazi view aired online, arrived at a peaceful protest being held at Normandale Park. They were out after the Minneapolis murder of Amir Locke, a young man shot in a no-knock warrant. There, the right wing fanatic found the corkers on bike and on foot, helping guide traffic around the demonstration. He got into an argument with them and began to call them slurs as he ordered them to end the protests. Then he drew out a rifle and opened fire on several. Of the 7 people injured, 1 died. Her name was June Knightley, though Portlanders knew her at T-Rex.
Vehicular attacks also became commonplace starting in the Long Hot Summer of 2020, following the murder of George Floyd. I cannot count the number of times that a car tried to or did drive through our protests in Olympia. Even during daytime when the people out protesting were teenagers and families. One such example is the murder of Summer Taylor in Seattle on July 4, 2020. Another is the murder of Deona Marie in January 2021.
I decided to check in with my dear friend Scott. He and I will grab drinks often and discuss Portland politics. We met on bike at a protest, and nearly 20 years older than me, he’s been a mentor of sorts during the protests. I asked him about some of the dangers he has faced while corking.
“I struggle to get back out there,” he told me, while he took a break to sip on his beer. “I remember the last event you and I attended together, I told you I’d need a long break.”
“I think that was-” I started to say. Then I could not remember.
“Right after the Supreme Court overturned Roe v Wade, we both went out to a few protests. I quit after the second one. I had to take a week or two inside my house to try to relax. It was too much after back then.” Back then refers to 2020, when we both aided the protests in our own ways. The protests we attended were in early May, after the leaked decision, and late June when the decision was officially announced.
“I was standing at the edge of Salmon street, near the Injustice Center,” he said. “When a car came and tried to careen through. I walked up to the window and the man nearly struck me in the face. He started to call me the f-word and other slurs.”
“Now I’ve dealt with idiots like this for a while. Especially during the height of the riots. But what freaked me out was how quick this man, and other people were, to turn to violence. I had to deescalate 7 or so different situations in two days, which really puts you on edge. It reminds me of some of the violence we did watch unfold in 2020. I guess what I am trying to say is that these protests only lasted a couple weeks, and people were ready to attack protesters with their cars from the start. It makes me concerned about the future of political violence and the validity of protests in the future.”
He and I have spent many nights drinking and discussing the state of affairs. What drives the most fear into us is the fact that we are on the frontlines and with cases like the Rittenhouse affair (when a high schooler attacked a protest with a gun, killing two) we fear what the future may hold. But we also know that we care too much about our friends and the causes we fight for to give up fighting.
As such, I value the art of corking, and the people that ride bikes in this city. In many cases we accept the risk in order to protect others. Portland’s use of bikes in activism has been integral to that. This city has a deep bike culture that in and of itself is a form of activism. It stemmed from a valuable protest movement that has helped people learn new tactics for protest and activism, as it was itself an act of protest.
