Some pics from Midnight Ridazz, May 12, 2006

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After much cajoling the last few months Jerry finally convinced me to make it to a Midnight Ridazz soiree. This time it was a last minute invite and I got stuck at work until 8:15pm which didn't leave much time to find my blinky light and attach it to my Soma. Between the lack of time to get ready and the fact that I had taken a couple pseudoephedrine for a sinus congestion/headache I was running around the apartment like a speed freak a day into a week long meth binge. Kimberly was quite freaked since I usually move at the speed of a 3 toed sloth. I was so hurried that I didn't notice the bread on my quickly made salami sandwich was absolutely covered with mold until after I'd taken 3 or 4 bites when I noticed the musty taste. I quickly ripped off the provolone and salami and threw it on a stale but not moldy pita. And out the door I went.

It took only 12 minutes to get down to Echo Park, feeling kind of hypocritical since I was driving, but unloaded, put my backpack on, and quickly found Jerry out in front of the Pioneer Chicken. Not too hard to find the Freak although there was an Asian dude next to us who was about 5" taller than Jerry.

After a couple of shots off of Jerry's flask of Hornitos at about 10:20pm we were off and riding down Sunset towards downtown LA. Jerry and I purposely didn't pick up a route guide because we figured it'd be more fun just cruising with the masses.

Psychedelic Jerry on his cruiser holding my Soma.	The crowd just before rolling out. Appropriately enough a burrito stand and a liquor store right across the street.

It felt really liberating to just be cruising down a city street on my bicycle with a bunch of likeminded souls. Unfortunately the exhilaration was a little shortlived as we soon heard some carnage behind us and then some urban doofus in front of us on a freeride bike jumped off of the sidewalk and right into someone's rear wheel instantly taking the guy down and tacoing his wheel. Do these guys have brains? At all?

Soon we were taking a lap through Chinatown where one impatient guy in his H2 wouldn't stay off of his horn, but I believe good temper prevailed there. And then we approached downtown where we stopped at Temple to let everyone regroup before our trek through skidrow.

Regrouping at Temple.	Ooooh, such trippy lights.

After our jaunt through skidrow we headed back through the Plaza at Olvera Street and then headed through Chinatown again. After Chinatown somehow the group split apart and we found ourselves on the wrong side of the tracks from the first party stop. We could see the main group down below us stopped 1/4 mile away so we figured we'd carry on until we found a route that looped back down and back to where the party was. It was really fun to be hanging out in the middle of a street in the warehouse district listening to music and drinking with a bunch of crazy Angelenos.

After getting rolling again we rode through some of the lofts in the artist's district to the bafflement of some of the residents, and soon we were over to the eastside of the LA River (or should I say overglorified drainage ditch?) and into Boyle Heights for the highlight of the night. Mariachi Plaza! There was a band in full swing and I have a feeling they were quite surprised when they had an instant audience of 600. For the next 3 or 4 songs you could tell they were playing off of our energy.

Party on N Spring St.	Mariachi Plaza, you can kind of see the band under the tree on the left.

The next section was pretty cool because we crisscrossed back and forth over the LA River on the (I think) 4th, 6th, and 7th Street bridges. Looking over at the next or previous bridge was awesome because it was just a wave of red blinking lights. Somewhere along here Jerry turned on the afterburners and we soon found ourselves up at the front where most of the messengers on fixies were hanging. It was hilarious to see Jerry staying seated on his big old balloon-tired cruiser and just flying by guys who were huffing and puffing on skinny tire road bikes like me.

The only really scary part of the ride was after we had exited one of the tunnels under Bunker Hill. We were in the middle of the big hotels, and since we were at the front of the pack there was no one controlling traffic. The light at Figueroa went red but 6 or 7 guys just went flying into the intersection. Jerry and I screamed "STOP", and thankfully between the quick reactions and good brakes of our fellow cyclists in front of us and the driver of the BMW a crisis was averted.

Soon enough we were on Glendale Blvd and cruising past Echo Lake back to our starting point. The DJ had stopped in front of the Echo Club and the people waiting in line were happy to party with all the cyclists starting to pull in. I headed back to the Jeep, threw my bike in the back, and arrived home realizing I still had my gloves on.

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