Jock Itch Bike styles of the niche and infamous 

Brad Evans knows a thing or two about dresses. One Wednesday night last year, he was wearing a prom dress, a wig, and bright-red lipstick when a Denver police sergeant strolled up to him and his fellow Denver Cruisers to see what the commotion was about. That evening’s theme was “dress night” and, as organizer of the weekly bicycle ride, Evans—to his misfortune (or maybe the cop’s)—had to explain why all those bikes were clogging the streets of LoDo.

Formed in 2004 as an outlet for like-minded cyclists to meet and ride through the city together, the Denver Cruisers' rides have grown into a must-do event for anyone with two wheels. The cruiser is typically a one-speed bicycle with a coaster brake, a classic-style frame, and big tires, but you don’t need one to participate. When I pedaled down to the Wednesday meet-up at The Ginn Mill, I saw regular, old mountain bikes and one of those strange cycling disasters with the huge wheel in front and the little one in back, which were ridden when “huzzah” was a fresh catchphrase.

The themes are fun but secondary to the ride, which winds through downtown, eliciting waves and stunned looks from the people on the street. The theme on the night I went (hobos and hillbillies) was impressive—nearly all the bike riders I rolled with were in some outfit reflecting that night’s theme. A guy looking like Elvis crossed with David Spade’s career-killing mirth-maker Joe Dirt tagged along. A demure Ellie May Clampett, someone from Ted Nugent’s hunting posse, and a group of blood-drenched hillbilly zombies also wheeled the streets, as theme-appropriate tunes were pumped from a mobile sound system, playing the likes of the aforementioned Nuge, some Skynyrd, and the well-received Kenny Rogers. It was as if a Larry The Cable Guy movie crashed and burned in LoDo.

To the Cruisers’ credit, they run a tight ship. Everyone behaved and followed the basic rules laid out by the organizers: Don’t run red lights, stay on the right side of the street, and essentially don’t do anything stupid. The good nature of the riders wasn’t for my benefit; no cops took a shine to the audacious spectacle despite the large number of bikes filling the streets.

Sure, there was some drinking, but the Cruisers' website clearly states that the weekly ride is not a booze cruise. And while revelry was definitely afoot, no one seemed to push any sort of blood alcohol threshold, even though the whole bar sang along to Bon Jovi’s “Living On A Prayer” before we embarked.  A couple of riders produced a beer from their secret stashes and took cagey sips along the route, but if you want to get drunk and be an asshole on your bike, this may not be your venue. The Ginn Mill, however, ran a great $3 special on PBR tall boys, and since I didn’t wear a costume, I felt it was my duty to at least try and fit in. And I did.

In addition to the weekly ride that seems to grow and grow, Denver Cruisers has launched a cruiser magazine called Kickstand to complement their burgeoning scene and act as a companion to cruiserride.com. Evans says the time is right for what he calls a style magazine for bicycle people. And if there are grown men in prom dresses and nice bikes involved, it may just be a smashing success.