Bikeswarm: Modern urban guerilla tactic

I had no idea what the Bikeswarm was until I was suddenly, unexpectedly part of it.

After having been rousted from their initial occupation site on Nov. 13, Occupy Portland announced their intention to take over an entirely different park. The location of the planned new encampment was not announced, but people were told to congregate at Waterfront Park on Saturday, Dec. 3, and everyone would march together to the new site.

I arrived on a bicycle, because it’s a great way to get around crowds and beat a hasty retreat if necessary. Also because I arrive pretty much everywhere on a bicycle.

Protesters assembled at the fountain at Waterfront Park, hundreds of people carrying all manner of hand-made signs and banners. (My hands-down favorite was: “I love you and there’s nothing you can do about it.”) After a couple brief mic-checks which were inaudible to much of the crowd, a call came out: “We’re marchin’!” and folks began to move north along the waterfront.

I rode away from the throng, turned north along the adjacent street until I was well ahead of them, then rode up to where they were headed and pulled out a camera to get video of the re-occupation march. Before I knew it I was surrounded by an immense knot of bikers, moving practically as one and carrying their own loudspeakers and drums.

That’s right. People are retrofitting bicycles to be mobile sound systems. And they are LOUD, my friend.

This throng of bikes congealed all around me and stopped. I had not expected this and I wasn’t even sure if they were part of the march, so I pulled out of their space to survey the landscape. The bikers waited as the marchers caught up to them, and as they waited, a young woman called out, “Bike check!”

“Bike check!”

“We’re going down Oak till we get to Fifth,” she began. The crowd of bikers echoed back her words loudly before everyone realized there were cops a block away. “Eek!” she chuckled, “not so loud! Whisper check!”

And everyone whispered, “Whisper check!”

So we all were apprised of the route and proceeded out of the park and into city streets. I made a point of crossing on a green light well ahead of anyone else, so I was already across the intersection when the cluster of bikes began to cross the street. They expertly lined bikes up on either side of the marchers in the intersection, blocking traffic to let them through.

“Whose streets? Our streets!”

I felt conflicted.
It occurred to me that these streets belonged, as well, to the hapless drivers waiting through several stoplight cycles for this mass of people to cross a major street. I couldn’t imagine them thinking loving thoughts about bicyclists or the Occupy movement.

On the other hand, as one young woman’s sign said, “SORRY TO INCONVENIENCE YOUR APATHY.”

But on yet another hand, I have received more than one ticket for jaywalking in Portland; they’re not cheap. So I tried, really tried, to cross on the green even though everyone around me completely disregarded the lights.

Whether or not I supported their tactics, I could see the bikers were doing a wonderful job of self-policing. They kept the walkers safe by establishing a very clear perimeter. It was impressive – you might even say professional. They waved and flashed the peace at the inconvenienced drivers, who did not seem as upset as I expected. There were more honks of support than honks of “get out of the way.” And yes, you can definitely tell the difference.

The Re-Occupy March wound through the streets for several blocks. Keeping ahead of the crowd, I was able to hear the scout-cop ahead of us on his bicycle, reporting our location on his radio. That’s when I knew the police really had no idea where the marchers were headed and I thought it was pretty amazing that such a big detail had been kept a secret by so many.

The crowd finally worked its way to Shemanski Park, a grassy block with a beautiful art-deco fountain in the middle. It’s the downtown site of the farmer’s market in warmer months. Once again, I found myself in the middle of a bunch of bikers. One guy was obviously a leader; a gaggle of bikers flocked over to him and they began to plan a route, when they noticed that a larger gaggle had already just started riding their bikes up the hill.

“Well, crap!” the guy yelled (or words to that effect) and he and his gaggle flew off to join their compatriots.

The bikers slowly circled the area, blocking one section of street and then another. It took me a couple minutes to notice people scurrying behind the bikers and into the re-occupation carrying poles, generators, and various other essential equipment. The slow-moving bike brigade was giving the re-occupiers cover to make a move that seemed pretty well-orchestrated.

I stood next to my bike and watched the assembly take shape. Hundreds of people were milling about in the square. One contingent carried a huge banner, “Occupy Portland 4 Everyone,” pointedly round and round the perimeter of the square. As I took in the spectacle, the bikers circled slowly back up to the corner where I stood, to the sound of cheers from the square. When the last biker pulled up, they cheered themselves just as loudly.

‘Victory Lap’
As the sun cast its last rays on the scene, we could see the domes of multiple tents in the square, set up with lightning speed. It gave the bikers another reason to cheer. “VICTORY LAP!” one fellow shouted. The bikers chuckled, then sure enough, they began to glide back up the hill.

There I was, straddling my bike, and I thought … Hey, what the hell?! (or words to that effect) I threw my leg over the seat and pedaled into the pack.

“Tell me how democracy rides!” a woman shouted enthusiastically.

“THIS IS HOW DEMOCRACY RIDES!” the other bikers chorused back.

“Tell me how democracy pedals!” “THIS IS HOW DEMOCRACY PEDALS!”

“Tell me how democracy coasts!” as we turned toward the downhill side. “I love biking people!” she shouted to the world. At that moment, we all loved biking people.

We proceeded well past the re-occupation and into busy streets, where several riders at the lead would quite automatically stand their bikes perpendicular to traffic, creating a clear boundary for bikers. As the last biker cleared the corner, the first riders hopped on and joined the back of the pack.

We biked cheek by jowl, up and down hills and around corners, with no accidents or close calls. A bunch of teenagers coming out of a yogurt shop saw us and called out, “Woo hoo! BIKESWARRRRM!!!!” When we got back to the square, the crowd yelled, “BIKESWARRRRRM!!!” and cheered. It was like a hero’s homecoming.

I was thrilled to be part of a group I had never been aware of until I was in it.

I later learned that the Bikeswarm sprang up organically on Nov. 12, while riot police prepared to chase off the original Occupy Portland, as an impromptu buffer between occupiers and police. They quickly discovered the power of their idea and resolved to continue supporting the Occupy movement as bicycle riders. It’s a tactic that really seems to facilitate the setup of an urban occupation.

Beyond the tactics, it’s a damn good time. One passerby derisively called us “hipsters,” and a biker corrected her: “No, we’re occupiers!” “We can be both,” I replied. But I’m no hipster. I’m an old lady pushing 60.

The Bikeswarm couldn’t have cared less. I was riding my bike in support of Occupy Portland, and the swarm was perfectly happy to have this old lady riding joyfully along.

Encampment Update
I left around 6:30 but kept an eye on the Occupy Portland Livestream, as did people from all over the world. (Bless you, Livestreamers.) Riot police moved in and occupied Shemanski Park before 9 p.m., and the crowd moved into the streets. They briefly occupied City Hall, taking care not to block the streets. One intrepid young fellow set up a Christmas tree on the roof, but he came down willingly.

Then, all of a sudden, the police disappeared. Someone ordered pizza for the demonstrators. They went back to the park, danced on the fountain and ate pizza in the cold night air. It turned out that the cops, too, were taking a break for pizza. Most of the protesters eventually went home, cold and weary, and we can assume the police officers did as well – back home to towns all over northwest Oregon from whence they had been called to collect some overtime pay.

In the aftermath, a dedicated few are determined to physically occupy public spaces, but not that many people showed up to camp. The movement itself, however, is still strong enough to bring 1,000 people out to march – and battle riot police – on a chilly Saturday. Occupy Portland continues to get to know itself.

• More people watch the General Assemblies on Livestream than actually attend.
• More people come out to support the occupation than to actually occupy.
• So how do we keep our momentum and become better organized?

Stay tuned and find out. And you’ll know the revolution is coming to your neighborhood when you see the Bikeswarm. Look for an older lady on a silver bike with a bumper sticker that says, “Keep Portland Weird.”

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More about Bikeswarm: http://www.pdxbikeswarm.org/?page_id=15