Critical Mass - The Streets at Night - Feb 2026

At four o’clock on Friday night I slipped out of my home office for an early dinner. Cheeseburger sliders. I don’t usually eat cheeseburgers unless I’ve ridden hard. Tonight felt like it counted. I was signed up to ride with Critical Mass in Hollywood.

Critical Mass began in San Francisco in the early nineties. A monthly ride. No real leader. Just cyclists gathering to ride together through city streets. Visibility. Safety in numbers. A reminder that bikes belong on the road.

I got to Young Circle early. I did not know anyone. I rode laps around the park for half an hour before the group arrived. At 7:30 they came all at once. About twenty-five riders. Parents with kids in bike seats. Retired men. Serious road cyclists in tight gear. A man named Indian Dave with long gray hair riding a fat-tire e-bike. A guy on an eight-foot-tall custom bike. He said stopping and starting were the hardest parts. The gears were small. He had to pedal hard to keep up.

We rode about twelve miles.

I met two women close to my age—Amy and Pam. Amy works in a school district. Both paddleboard. Kayak. Bike often. They’ve been regulars on these rides.

As the miles passed, people peeled off in ones and twos. Some were close to their neighborhoods. One man had a flat. By the end only about half of us remained.

I stayed to the finish. Two blocks from my house my headlight went dark. I had just paid to have the bike fully redone before coming down here. I asked for a strong headlight. It is my main transportation now. It lasted about two hours. I raised a hand, turned off from the group, and rode the last stretch carefully.

I will have to replace the light.

The city was quiet again.