Biker Daredevils Relive Derby Days
BY MATTHEW GREEN

If there is such thing as a typical Saturday afternoon in Oberlin, last Saturday certainly wasn’t one of them. At 2 p.m., while an anarchy flag blew in the background, a large crowd composed of students, faculty and families and several alumni gathered on Harkness Bowl. 
As the sky cleared, war cries were heard from afar, and a roving band of bikers appeared, ready for Oberlin’s first bike derby since 1993. 
The bikes varied greatly in shape and size, many of them built specifically for the purpose of demolition. The bikers, approximately 13 in all, circled the battlefield, which was surrounded by a huge ring of enthusiastic spectators. A whistle was blown, the noise band began to play, water balloons thrown from above were hurled at the riders, and the long-anticipated bike derby commenced.

(photo by Areca Treon)

A bike derby is not known for its extensive rulebook. The main objective is to knock opponents off their bikes. A rider must leave the field after falling. The last two remaining bikers have a face-off until one falls, at which point a winner is declared. 
The last time a bike derby occurred in Oberlin was eight years ago. In 1993, former Dean of Students Pat Penn officially prohibited the continuation of the annual event after receiving several reports of student injury, derby-related bike theft and damages to grounds caused by the infamous bonfire of bikes that traditionally marked the end of the event. 
Upon learning that the derby was to return to campus this year, current Dean of Students Peter Goldsmith sent an e-mail to several students urging that the event be controlled and orderly. He warned that any dangerous, unruly behavior would result in “judicial action and the application of severe sanctions.” 
“I do not know of any efforts to prevent [the derby] this year,” Goldsmith said. “[The e-mail] was an effort to ensure that the event was safe.” 
As a result of such warnings, many spectators and participants, expected some form of security intervention to occur. “We’re going off to jail,” said junior Ethan McCreadie, preparing to mount his bike. 
Although a security car was tactically positioned in the Talcott parking lot throughout the entirety of the event, the officer inside never once intervened in the proceedings. 
“Safety and Security would have intervened if it appeared that students were trying to injure one another. From where I and others stood, this seemed not to be the case, It appeared that care was being taken to limit the damage to the bicycles instead of human bodies,” Goldsmith said.
The line between order and chaos in a derby is a thin one, but was maintained relatively well. Four scantily clad women served as referees, furiously attempting to enforce order in the midst of pandemonium. “I love it, it’s great!” junior Katy Goodman, a referee, said of being an authority figure. 
After several rounds, the derby shifted to its destruction phase, in which bikes were stomped upon and beaten while riders hurled mud and compost at each other. Yet, no attempts were made to burn the bikes. Furthermore, there were no injuries, save a few cuts and bruises, which riders exhibited with pride. 

As the crowd began to disperse and the derby reached its conclusion, an organized and effective cleanup was conducted by the riders, leaving the battlefield in its original state of being, give or take some tire marks and dirt patches. 
“I was particularly pleased to see that students took it upon themselves to clean up the bowl rather than expecting the grounds staff to clean up the mess that had been made,” Goldsmith said.
The derby’s duration was shorter than expected, lasting for only approximately twenty minutes. “But what a sweet twenty minutes it was,” senior Mark Quemada, who was a spectator at the event, said. Several riders expressed some disappointment that there were not more participants, hoping that in future years, there would be fewer spectators and more riders. 
Sophomore Jessica Milne, among the most aggressive and relentless bikers, was also the only female participant in the event. “This school is filled with a bunch of pussies,” she said smiling proudly, face coated with mud.
Senior Mandy Lewis and junior Peter Cairns were largely responsible for the derby’s revival. Both had a major role in organizing and publicizing the event. The two are working on a research documentary focusing on short-lived traditions at Oberlin, with specific attention given to the original bike derby. Interviews were conducted with President Nancy Dye and Peter Goldsmith, as well as numerous students. “We want to investigate how the face of Oberlin is changing,” Lewis said. 
Lewis and Cairns, who captured the entirety of the event on video, were pleased with how it turned out. “It was perfect. It was well controlled and approached with the right mindset,” Lewis said. 
The filmmakers expressed relief that an expected confrontation with security did not occur. “We didn’t create problems and no one got hurt. It was a beautiful day,” Lewis said.

A final screening of their video will be shown at the end of the year by the art and Timara departments. 
That the derby was a success seemed to be the general consensus among both participants and spectators. “I felt like I was connected to part of my history, Senior Casey Pickett said, who was winner of the first round. “I’ve heard about this event since I was a freshman and never thought in my wildest dreams that I’d win.”
One participant, speaking under the alias of Porky Anderson, was enticed by the violent appeal the event had. “It was rowdy and violent. Gratuitous violence is a novelty that occurs far too infrequently at this school,” Anderson said.
Marko Packard, who graduated from Oberlin in ’94 and returned on Saturday for the OSCA 50th reunion, compared the event to previous derbies he had witnessed. “This one was much more original. It had a less chaotic feel, with the same interesting anarchist sentiment,” Packard said. “It was awesome.”