By Buffalo Bill
Originally published in Hey Tony, Winter 95
Cycle Messengers have a richly deserved reputation for being a few spokesshort of a wheel; even other cyclists think they're crazy. Green Top NobJonathan Porritt once said that they were a disgrace to the cycling communitybecause they get ordinary, law-abiding cyclists a bad reputation.
They do all the things that the self-righteously woolly-jumpered don't:run red lights, cut up cars, get drunk & ride their bikes and hangaround town looking cool in their wrap shades and baggies. Vagabonds onthe information superhighways, cycle couriers ply an essentially solitarytrade. Ccs spend their days alone with their bikes with only two-way radiossquawking laconic instructions for company. They may pass the whole daywithout seeing another courier, without seeing a face that understandstheir experiences. Snotty receptionists unwilling to allow the briefestof phone-calls or even a visit to their oh, so pristine lavatory, bolshysecurity guards enforcing stupid rules " 'cos it's more than me jobsworth",monosyllabic post-room boys pasting up yet another pin-up, carelessly openedcar-doors, startled deer and funky chickens on shopping trips too absorbedin the window displays to realise that their path will cross in front ofa rapidly approaching front wheel until it's too late, taxi-drivers intenton their next fare and uncaring about the fate of mere cycle couriers andmost deadly of all, articulated trucks driven into the heart of the city,insensitive to soft vehicles, hardly noticing anything beneath them atall, wheels rolling remorselessly onwards-messengering is the last greatuntold tale of urban life [sic!].
How could the world be made aware of all the legends that have beencreated daily by each and every messenger, how could these unsung heroes,whose epic tales of endurance and daring are legion, get some recognition?How else could a bunch of messengers get together and spend someone else'smoney racing bikes, getting drunk & swapping zoom stories. The answeris the Cycle Messenger World Championships. 1000 professional cycle freaksdescend upon an unsuspecting metropolis to party, race & party.
The excuse is to find out who really is the fastest and, in truth, theracing was pretty serious. Messengers showed up from as far away as Tokyoto race. There were teams from cities all over North America & Europe.San Francisco, which will be the host city for next year's event, showedup with 50 riders. Howard Williams, of the charity Bicycles for AfghanAmputees Rehabilitation, rode 2000 miles across North America to attend.And London, last year's host and home of the world's longest running courier'zine, Moving Target, brought 15 riders. 8 heats of 60 riders each weresent out on a purpose built course in Toronto's Dufferin Gate area. Theyhad to negotiate ramps, checkpoints, parked cars, deliver & collectparcels, making sure that they had the right proof of delivery in the rightorder. One of the checkpoints was a ride-thru and to add an authentic flavour,non-competing messengers acted as traffic police to make sure that of theirracing comrades went the wrong way up the one-way streets. ("But I'monly going one way!")
The heats were 30 minute slices of messenger mayhem. In ordinary bicycleroad-racing the riders line out to minimize wind resistance. Messengerslike to do their own thing. It was chaos. There were crashes, widespreadcheating, and many, many who simply lost the plot completely, mislayingtheir parcel, their proofs of delivery and what little remained of theirsanity. For the majority who had not qualified for the finals there wasstill a lot of partying and the illegal Alleycat races to keep them occupied.The finalists had to do the same thing all over again on the Sunday. 3hours of racing in 35 degree heat and 80% humidity. The finals eliminatedthe weak, the uncommitted and the blatantly insane. Those who fell by thewayside had had enough. It came down to a man to man battle between theGerman National Messenger Champion, Lars Urban and his compatriot ThomasSauerwein of Per Rad, Karlsruhe. Lars beat Thomas by a street and gaveme my fondest memory of the championships after he crossed the line. Ahorde of camera people were gathered behind the finish line waiting tocapture the moment. Lars put his bike straight into the middle of the crowd,knocking several to the ground.
Damn pedestrians are always getting in the way.
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