After COVID-19 isolation, Sacramento Bike Party brings people to streets as a community
Eight years and one global pandemic after its founding, Sacramento’s favorite non-biker-oriented biking group held its 92nd ride on Aug. 6.
Since 2013, the rave on wheels has become a beloved local institution. The first Friday of every month, hundreds of mobilized Sacramentans — often costume-clad, bearing booze and blasting music — take to the streets. Past their limited pandemic schedule and enjoying the COVID-19 cycling boom, Bike Party is having a renaissance.
Pedaling through the streets, the crowd is peppered with elegant cruisers, decked-out tandems and custom lowriders. It also includes skateboards, scooters, roller blades and even electric wheelchairs. Bike Party has ridden in celebration of Halloween, Thanksgiving and March Madness; they have hosted Tiki-Valentines Day rides, prom night rides, and plenty of neon rides. No matter the theme, participants adorn their bikes with flashing lights and festive decor. Nothing is off-limits: once, a man cycled with a cat perched on his shoulder. Another time, at a May the Fourth-themed event, a lightsaber-wielding horseback rider (who insisted others address him as “Lord Equis”) trotted beside the cyclists.
Bike Party’s dogma? “Stop at lights, stay to the right, ride straight, don’t hate, pack your trash, and don’t get smashed.”
As participants wind their way through the routes — which are crafted to avoid obstructing traffic or commerce — they make several stops to hydrate, drink and socialize. It’s a bike ride, but passing by with its pulsing EDM, technicolor lights and electric energy, participants radiate the vibe of festival-goers.
“We very much liken our events to a performance,” said Lawrence T. Risley, who has led the group for five years. “Because it very much is.”
At events, there is a noteworthy absence of sprints, tricks or speed-optimized skin-tight lycra. Every element subverts the norms of biking groups — which makes sense, given the circumstances of Bike Party Sacramento’s founding.
“To be honest, I really never was a bike guy,” said Conrad Lawrence, who organized the first-ever Bike Party Sacramento in 2013. “The only reason basically that I had bikes was to go to Burning Man.”
After breaking up with his girlfriend — and hearing her plea that he “not become a hermit” — Lawrence started attending Bike Party rides in the East Bay. One night, when making the trek back, he had an idea.
“As I was driving home at 1 o’clock in the morning, I realized that there was absolutely nothing happening in Sacramento, bikewise, other than, you know, the Spandex crowd running up and down the damn river trail.”
So Lawrence made Bike Party Sacramento, a cycling event designed for people not particularly keen on the sport. To his surprise, 40 riders showed up for the first event.
Bike Party’s fun status
The organization has achieved a cult-like popularity among Sacramentans, many of whom have attended the monthly events for several years. These devout Bike Partiers gush about the group’s warm, welcoming community.
“It creates human connection and makes Sacramento an even hipper city,” said Rob Schopen, who has been a devoted Bike Party attendee ever since he caught a glimpse of one of their vibrant rides through midtown several years ago.
“I’ve seen so many genuine acts of kindness over the years,” said Schopen. “Everyone watches out for each other and is willing to help each other with anything needed: broken bike, water, zip ties, conversation, but usually just a smile or a hug.”
Thanks to the help of volunteers — who corral the group to make sure no one is littering or riding perilously — the event is completely free. “There’s no money exchanged,” said Risley. “It’s just a labor of love.”
Partially inspired to start Bike Party “as a way to meet girls,” Lawrence is adamant that the group’s priority should be fostering human connections. Staying true to this mission, group leaders have shunned requests that they advertise or race. “It’s a social ride,” said Lawrence. “it’s not a competition and it’s not promoting an event or anything like that.”
Participants largely organize over Facebook, where the Bike Party Sacramento group has over 3,600 members. There, Bike Partiers post event images and videos, search for lost bikes and share invitations for everything from bike swaps to birthday parties to rides aimed at raising money or awareness for various causes.
Annually, the group promotes a “Ride of Silence” to commemorate cyclists who have been killed or injured on public roads. And as a tradition, a delegation rides to Shriners Hospital for Children on Christmas to bring presents, holiday cheer and even Santa Claus himself to pediatric patients. Bike Party has made the trek for six consecutive years, and they didn’t let the pandemic stop them — last December, they pedaled a dazzling parade of lights, costumes, and music to the parking lot, and the children watched through their windows.
“And to me, that’s what it’s all about, sharing moments with friends and strangers. And providing a one-of-a-kind experience and smiles to these kids there that are fighting for their lives,” said Risley.
Creating community
The group also congregates on Thanksgiving Day for an event dubbed the “Appetite Enhancement Ride.” Last November, this ride doubled as a charity event: “We gave out a lot of money and a lot of food and a lot of love and support,” said Risley.
Although these events are meaningful, the group’s largest contribution to the Sacramento community very well might be its ability to, well, create community.
“It really brings together people that wouldn’t necessarily run into each other — old, young, different demographic groups,” said Anil Mantri, who has frequented Bike Party events for six years. “It really shows the diversity Sacramento has to offer. And people are friendly!”
“We get everybody from about 18 to 60 years of age — every walk of life,” echoed Risley.
At the start of the pandemic, Bike Party Sacramento largely halted its activities — and with it, this community fragmented. In the country at large, however, the urge to escape isolation sparked a biking boom: bicycle sellers during the pandemic saw a dramatic increase in their business, with the national market growing 75% in April 2020 alone.
As lockdowns drew out for months on end, some members — like Schopen — organized small, masked, DIY rides to stay active and connect with their estranged micro-communities.
“[I] missed the event terribly, so we created a small group of Bike Party friends and we began organizing rides all over Sacramento on a weekly basis,” said Schopen. “COVID made me realize even more how lucky we are to have this event happening in Sacramento.”
Now that nearly half of all Sacramento County residents are fully vaccinated (and outdoor exercise is understood to be low-risk), Bike Party has returned to its normal operations — and riders are grateful to be back.
“Because we’ve been quarantined with COVID, people are just really enjoying the human experience,” said Risley. “And we get to do it on bikes. With loud dance music.”
Road tunes
Essential to the energy of Bike Party — like any good party — is a carefully curated soundtrack. Music is the heartbeat of the ride, and many participants design their bikes specifically to accommodate speakers. Since the group spans backgrounds and age brackets, Risley scours SoundCloud to procure locally-produced “mixes and mashups” that cover a broad variety of genres and decades. The one requirement? Songs must have a beat.
“We want people to sing and dance!” said Risley. “It’s very much like a Disney Land parade, but it’s more than that. It breaks down barriers. It creates a sense of escape. Some people say, ‘if governments could adopt bike parties too, we’d live in a Utopian society.’”
That’s not to say the organization hasn’t had their fair share of issues.
The large groups of riders encounter the occasional impatient driver (in these rare cases, volunteers will stop the ride and let the car through). And sometimes, people get so irritated with Bike Party noise or traffic that they’ll take to the internet to voice their grievances.
“It’s funny,” Risley said, “Because you’ll have one person post, but then you’ll have a lot of people come to our defense.” In the early days, such complaints were more common, but now, even those who aren’t involved in Bike Party tend to respect what it brings to Sacramento.
“If you’re upset that people are riding bikes, maybe you’re the problem,” said Risley.
While Bike Party’s greatest asset is its varied and vibrant community, rifts between participants have caused discord in the past. At one point — under founder Lawrence’s stewardship — Bike Party shut down temporarily to address the scourge of “youngsters with little BMX bikes” who rode unsafely, spurned the community ethos of the group and “just want to show off and create chaos,” as Lawrence put it.
Eventually, Lawrence says, the group ousted the “punks” and resumed biking as usual, but rifts between the leadership remained. Soon after, Lawrence’s health problems and interpersonal issues pushed Risley to assume the position of Bike Party leader.
“(Risley), has great passion for keeping BPS fun and safe,” said Peggi Martin, who attended the first-ever Bike Party Sacramento in 2013 and has joined rides consistently since. “He works with a group of dedicated volunteers on safety practices to plan new routes and monthly themes to keep it interesting. It is low-tech, high-energy, soul-tickling simple fun. ... You feel like a kid again, with unbridled joy rolling with the group.”
While Bike Party has weathered turnover in its leadership, disruptive participants, and the coronavirus pandemic, it has retained the spirit that makes it special to so many Sacramentans. As the group passes through the city, it brings a pulsing cacophony of exclamations, music and conversation. And in its wake, it leaves Sacramento just a little bit weirder — and more connected — than it found it.
“When Bike Party is on, it’s magic. It really is — the dancing, the singing, the camaraderie. We’ve lost that so much, in my opinion, in life, where there’s drama or there’s some kind of thing always getting in the way of you just enjoying each other,” said Risley.
“And that’s the thing that bikes do. It strips down all that stuff, and everybody’s included and everybody’s accepted. … I get to see that every month and it’s just beautiful.”
This story was originally published August 25, 2021 at 5:00 AM.