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Ciclavia, man. It was fantastic. It’s always fantastic to have the streets to yourself anyway, whatever occasion.
L.A. is a massive, invisible bike city. A lot of people ride bikes, I see them every day. Every night of the week there’s an event with up to hundreds of riders. It’s more than anywhere else in the world. Ain’t no joke, son.
When there’s no car at all on the four lanes of Wilshire, I don’t know… It just feels right. This is how cities should be. People riding bikes, walking, skateboarding around. Less afraid, less assholish, reconquering the city at a human pace. Everyone looks fly. I remember that 50 year old thin man with his impeccable white mid length hair, beautiful fixie and matching clothes, doing a long wheelie down the boulevard. Technology everywhere, from boom boxes to neat phone holders.
I’m cruising all that like a lone wolf, looking around and gliding through a sea of smiles and positive attitude. Damn, it feels good…