May 12-13, 2007
Flora Grubb Gardens, Bayview
“It’s so weird to see white people walking around on the street out there,” Linda said on Saturday. “I mean really. We used to be the only ones. It’s like the day we filmed the [soda company name redacted] commercial outside the clubhouse. White kids everywhere. WEIRD.”
She’s right. Here in “Mo’s Alley,” so called by Cyclecide because Moses’ sister rented the lot to put her plants on, it’s a completely different scenario on the block.
The pimps who used to park their cars in front of it and yell at their bitches at all hours of the day and night must be bummed. But we’re happy, because the only other coffee near us is up Bernal Hill. Bikes and that hill and a non-caffeinated bike rodeo clown are not friends.
Mo’s Alley was a thoroughfare for crack dealers and hookers, right in the shadow of the City’s sewage treatment plant, in the ghetto behind the abominable KFC/Taco Bell combination “restaurant” where the customers scream at the beleaguered staff more often than not. The lot used to be Peninsula Oil, then it was a bus depot, then it was a plain slice of tore-up pavement and asphalt with a couple run-down buildings left over.
Cyclecide HQ, until recently, was located right across the street … and they evicted us and now the combination house and shop and yard still sits empty. Don’t get us started about that one.
Flora Grubb has had Cyclecide’s back for a while now, letting us and the Mousetrap store stuff on her ex-parking lot, pre-construction, in exchange for us keeping an eye on it …. so when she asked us to set up the rides for her opening party this weekend, of course we said YES MA’AM.
Cyclecide brought the Cyclofuge, the Ferris Wheel, the Kiddie Carousel, the Spanking Bike, the Dizzy Toy, and the Whirl ‘n’ Hurl. Scott Beale showed up and took photos.
Anyway, two years ago this Fourth of July, we hosted the first annual PEDAL MONSTER at Mo’s Alley, which kicked ass. Carloads of Dead Baby Bike Club members drove down from Seattle, ditto C.H.U.N.K. 666ers from Portland, and Black Label members from Reno, Nowhere, and the couch at headquarters.
The 999 Eyes ov Infinite Dream circus brought their live act and their museum of curiosities, and Replicator and A.P.E. rocked us with some blistering dance-metal (RIP A.P.E.’s drummer, killed on his bike by a hit-and-run driver in Seattle). One dude ate a Madagascar hissing cockroach, a band of trolls and ogres played, many MANY fireworks were shot off, and we built a tiny tallbike for the dwarf chick in the 999 Eyes freakshow. She never can find bikes in her size, much less tallbikes. She was stoked. Of course it got stolen a couple towns down the road.
Bike thieves suck.
To put it mildly, we’ve partied hard at Mo’s Alley. We got kinda misty when we saw what Flora’s done with the place.
The Life-Size Mousetrap lived here on the lot for a while, all set up with some Cyclecide rides a couple Octobers ago, when we did a special Critical Mass show and some Halloween gigs.
Jarico took the old Edsel from the junkyard and Haggis smashed it into the lot’s chicken-shack looking wooden structure we turned into a bar. Victoria shot out the RV window with her BB gun, and we generally blew a pile of BMXers’ and spandex bikers’ minds.
The Edsel is all that remains. Plopped in a corner of Flora’s new building among potted, carbon-eating creatures that look like they’re from outer space.
It’s a beautiful place to buy plants and get coffee. Yall check it out. Those people are NERDS about plants and coffee.
Also! Linda’s note at Atlas made it into SFist. Gotta love her Mexican hot-headedness. Seriously though, bike thieves suck.
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