When drivers notice a sea of bicyclists in any given intersection, most slow down, some even come to a dead stop, not knowing what’s going on.
“It’s like controlled chaos,” Abel Gonzales, 37, said, referring to the bike crew rides he often participates in across Los Angeles.
These group rides are usually planned and shared across Facebook groups, Instagram pages, and sometimes through flyers posted at their favorite bars or pit stops.
For those uninitiated, a bike crew is simply a social club put together by bicycle riders. Some wear jerseys customized with numbers and nicknames, while others display photos of their favorite restaurants or kombuchas.
Groups on the Eastside, like Los Perritos, Cycosundays, 605 Riders, or Boyle Heights’ own La Clika, all have a similar goal: have fun and celebrate the community they’ve built.
“You’ve got to be there to understand. You’ve got to be in the middle of the crowd,” said Miguel Hernandez of Pedal Mob, a San Fernando Valley-based riding crew. He and Gonzales were at Mariachi Plaza to support La Clika’s ride to celebrate the music video release of a song aptly titled “La Clika” by Viva Mescal, a local hip-hop artist.
“It could sometimes be ten people or a hundred people. Sometimes a thousand. It doesn’t matter how big or how small, it’s always gonna be a fun ride,” he said.
Paco Vazquez, 41, rides with La Clika and helped to organize the big January evening ride.
“Everybody just cliques up. There are people here from San Diego, from Anaheim, and we’re all just biking together,” Vazquez said as he pointed to the crowd of well over 100 cyclists at Mariachi Plaza. “It’s like a big family.”
Erica Legge drove up from San Diego with her husband to participate in the Eastside ride. She said her club in San Diego, Steady Pedaling, supports East LA-based crews because they often show it back.
“It’s family. We become family,” Legge said. “On our Friday rides, everybody brings out their kids, and it’s a group event. We get invited to birthday parties and even have Friendsgiving together.”
As more riders poured into Mariachi Plaza, the strobe of bike lights blinked across the historic plaza. More than a hundred bicycles of every color were neatly arranged across the plaza as riders laughed and caught up with friends before the big rollout. Some passed a bottle around. Some did tricks off the stage.
Gonzales, prepping for his second ride that day, said he admired what La Clika was doing for the Eastside community. He’s noticed more people from outside of Los Angeles coming to ride in Boyle Heights, exposing newcomers of all levels to the culture and history of the neighborhood.
“There’s definitely something out there for everyone. There are so many rides now that anyone with any level of biking experience can find a ride they can be safe on,” Gonzales said.
And if curious cyclists are weary about coasting alongside bike club members, riders emphasize inclusivity and encourage bike-loving people to come along, no matter their ride style.
“It doesn’t matter what kind of bike you have, as long as you’re out riding with us,” said Derrick “Drek” Campbell of Boyle Heights. Drek, 52, founded Los Perritos in 2020 and said he started taking bicycling more seriously when he began his club.
“It started off as just friends. We started our own little rides, just us, maybe about six or seven guys.” Since, Drek said, the group tries to host their own ride once a month and will participate in rides other local cliques put together at least once a week.
Drek said that his life would be boring without biking, and he wouldn’t have half as many relationships with people he’s met up and down the state through the sport. From his point of view, folks who have conflicts within the biking community usually settle their differences for the sake of the culture.
“Everybody looks out for everyone. And a lot of people that are in this community, especially in the Eastside, grew up in gangs and want to get away from that because a lot of people have kids now. So we use this as an outlet and bring the kids out, make it a family affair,” Drek said.
Riders “become more than customers” at a local bike shop
Ollin Reyes, 28, owns Esquina Bike Shop on Whittier Blvd., just east of the 6th St. Bridge. He usually sees all kinds of bicycling collectives roll up to his door. Sometimes, they come for repairs; other times, they use his shop as a pit stop on their route.
“They become more than customers, eventually,” Reyes said, pointing to the relationship building he experiences from owning a local bike shop. “It helps us get to know our city and network and meet people. Like these kids come over here, and you hear so-and-so did this, and they met so-and-so, and now they’re doing this together. It really helps us come together,” Reyes said.
Reyes has been in and out of the LA bike scene for over ten years and noticed how it’s changed, especially in Eastside-based bike cliques.
“I see a lot more kids involved and more kids of color involved. And you’ll see [groups] like La Clika, Cyco Sundays, Activos, you know, they’re all East LA based. The difference now is there’s a lot more kids involved, the bikes are different, and the whole cycling scene community overall is just more diverse than it was 2013,” Reyes said.
An opportunity for youth engagement
Young members of bike cliques are more common today as videos of massive group rides go viral on social media. Marcos Bolanos, 18, and Donovan Gonzalez, 13, were at Mariachi Plaza, sporting the custom La Clika jerseys they earned and sipping on energy drinks before the big La Clika ride.
They said they ride with friends from their schools in Boyle Heights and agreed that supporting their bike crew motivates them as riders.
“It feels good to support each other. If someone’s struggling, we help them,” Bolanos said.
The duo admitted when they’re riding in the streets of downtown, drivers sometimes honk at their reckless riding. Drek of Los Perritos points out that it’s usually the youth who cause havoc on city streets.
“I’m a little bit older than most people out there, so I don’t really mess around anymore. But when these youngsters come out, they mess around too much,” Drek said with a tone of frustration in his voice. “You can tell people so much of what you expect of them, but they can do whatever they want.”
Drek encourages other adults on his team to set a better example for the teenagers involved with Los Perritos.
“We’re from the Eastside. A lot of guys are ex-gang members, and they have families now. So they want to live a better life and show a better path for their children,” Drek said.
Despite the occasional notoriety, Gonzales gave bike cliques across Los Angeles credit for being violence interrupters for kids living in challenged neighborhoods. He considers riding and the communities woven into them something that saves lives.
“You’ve got kids that instead of going out there getting involved in local gangs and doing stupid s— they’re out here riding their bikes and staying out of trouble. Yeah, they might cause a little ruckus on a ride,” Gonzales laughed. “But I would much rather have a kid go out once or twice a week cause a problem within an hour than possibly change his whole life by doing something stupid being part of a gang.”
Reyes at Esquina voiced a similar notion.
“A lot of these kids are just being kids, and they just want to ride and want to be out of the house,” Reyes said. “Yeah, sometimes they get into trouble; they do things that show up in the media. But all in all, they’re just kids being kids. In a big city like this, where else are they going to go?”
