Imagine one of those evolutionary lines where you see Neanderthals at one end and Homo sapiens at the other. Picture four messengers in that line. We all start at one end, and slowly progress, if we're lucky.

The first messenger has seen Quicksilver one too many times. He/she lasts anywhere from a week to a month, suddenly dresses "messenger cool" 24/7, stands around in the square conspicuously checking their pager, goes to "messenger bars" at happy hour, gets off on themselves and generally poses. They last until one of the following happens: "hit and quit," their bike falls apart, they realize that they are expected to do hard work (as a rookie, low paying grunt work), or the first rain/snowstorm/cold snap hits. If they stick it out, they turn into...

Messenger #2, the worst of the bunch. Stronger, faster, maybe they've modded their bike or gear so they really looks the part. Problem is, they're really just hotdogging most of the time, making us all look bad. Going 25 mph on sidewalks, breaking all traffic laws for kicks, cursing at anyone who dares cross their paths, punching cars, and just being unruly for the fun of it. If you ever see a messenger with a whistle in their mouth, this is messenger #2. Unfortunately, most civilians think this is what being a messenger is. Of course pros break the rules, especially for a bank run, or a court run, or when you're just plain slogged, but most experienced messengers will tell you that riding within the law 85% of the time actually helps keep you alive, out of jail, and sane (blowing red lights doesn't count:).

I'm going to skip ahead to the end of the evolutionary line, to the LAST messenger: the "lifer" or "careerier." They are 28-35, with a different bike for every type of weather, they never have their hands stained with grease from roadside repairs, and even their "junker" bike is nicer than anything you have. They are quiet, calm, fast, they ignore you and everyone else, and when they race, they wear baggy shorts just to send a message to the spandex crowd. Aloof and elite. Zen, but with lots of ego and attitude, if that's possible.

Messenger 3 is *everyone* else, and about 60% of them fit this mold. They are somewhere in between, in terms of appearance, skills, and attitude. They have been hit enough times to know when to just get out of the way. When somebody flips them off, they say "havagoodone!" You just can't go through life teaching driving lessons to everyone out there. Some are college dropouts, some have Master's degrees, they are triathletes, potheads, ubercyclists on titanium rigs, or just riding Huffys in their jeans. They have identities beyond the bike. These are the cool messengers, the kind you end up hanging out with, if you're lucky.

Which brings me back to Travis' book. Flatly put, he is a hotdogger near the beginning of the line, but from reading his book, you'd think he invented the job. To say his prose is purple is an understatement. He goes on for a page and a half about his wide-eyed wonder at someone doing a track skid. His response to his first "Critical Mass" ride was ridiculous: "People just like me!"...like he's an eskimo in the desert.

When this book came out, according to a story in the Chicago Reader, he had worked the job for 8 months, dug up everyone's stories under the plan of writing an "anthology," and ended up passing them off as his own. Along the way, he nominated himself the spokesmodel for the angry young proletariat.

I realize this book is in the "fiction" category, and an author should be able to take *some* liberties, but it's really more than that. It's about doing $2 runs when the snow is falling, you're sore from taking a spill in a slush puddle, you're soaked and cold, and you still have to keep it up for another 7 hours. Repeat for months or years, until one sunny day, along comes Johnnyboy Hotdog who goes and writes a book about how fun it is to ride in traffic, and how it makes him the Jesus Christ of 21st century America. I, along with a couple other couriers, could hardly read this book without loud violent outbursts. I suppose your take on it all depends where you stand in the lineup.

Just my two cents. If you want to read the messenger encyclopedia, check out Rebecca 'Lambchop' Reilly's self-published book "Nerves of Steel." I'll be honest, it's not *like* reading a diary, it IS a diary, all 300+ pages of it. Without the benefit of a good editor, it certainly has its problems, but hey, it was a labor of love. She worked in at least ten cities around the world, and scoped out the courier scene in a bunch more. Her coverage of the cities I worked in was spot-on, and I found friends from ten years back mentioned in it. It does a great job of painting the messenger "scene" in a number of cities, without demanding that you sign on for her epiphanic self-realizations. For some reason, it's not always available on Amazon, but you can still dig it up on the web.

Between its transparently staged existence, over-the-top prose, and force-fed values, I'd say skip this one. There are decent photos of some ripped Chicago messengers in there, whose stories were used in some form or another. Too bad they didn't write the book.

1. "[The bicycle] is a philosophy, a way of life, and I am using it like a hammer to change the world and to redeem our war-torn cities."

2. "Cadence for cash and Money for miles -- these are the mantras of many a struggling genius."

3. "I began to feel that I was floating, softly looking down upon the city ... from this godlike view, all of my motion seemed effortless ... By the time I could envision a destination I would arrive there as if by magic. I would appear rested, and yet behind me would be the distant reflection of what I had just encountered and just overcome."

4. "Then unexpectedly, like a possessed man, channeling from the world of the dead, I spoke: 'Life sucks, but work is really cool.' ... I woke the next morning to don the armor again."

5. "You begin to see yourself as different, exempt from the so-called universal laws of life and death. This heightened feeling gives the messenger a confidence, a speed, and an agility of almost metaphysical proportions."

6. "I can do anything ... there is a certain space around me, like a force field ... I am untouchable, and everyone knows it. It is a matter of respect. Moving at the speed of commerce, shoveling through all the scales of mankind at once, saving the world all day long, I require at least that much respect."

7. "[T]he phone rang. It was Julie, a dancer and choreographer who was also my girlfriend *at the time*. (I seem to have girlfriends only *at times*. I am not sure why, but for me, love never seems to stick.)

8. "I hopped over the gray countertop, hoisted my bike onto my shoulder with a 'By this, ye shall conquer' kind of valor, and clamored out the front door, fully prepared, once again, to make my contribution to the world."

Such self-indulgence fills the book. Culley's chapters about getting doored and finding his way into messengering descend further into annoying self-study. Descriptions of burning through intersections are meant to impress, but they invite derision. Melodramatic passages about Critical Mass do not ring true. The pseudo-impressionism of the section about Jon Boub reduces both credibility and clarity.

Culley wants to reveal himself and fellow bike messengers in full complex humanity, but his over-the-top rhetoric miscarries him. In Culley's view, messengers (and cyclists in general) are fundamentally different from drivers. Such a view is misguided. Many drivers are also cyclists, and most cyclists are also drivers. Your attitude and patience will vary depending on which kind of vehicle (car or bike) you happen to be using. That's a crucial point and Culley misses it.

Bike messengers, and cyclists generally, need a book that depicts their on-the-road experience with accuracy and balance -- and that tells the story in a way that may really help non-cycling motorists understand. This book isn't it.

I admire Culley's energy and enthusiasm, and do not doubt his sincerity of purpose, but I can't give this book more than a single star.

His stuff on messengering is excellent when he sticks to the nuts and bolts "how to" stuff of negotiating traffic, battling cold weather, dealing with a cranky bicycle, the camaraderie of messengers, and especially in describing the "flow." His explanation of how bike messengers can get into the "flow," and see how traffic, pedestrians, and lights, will play out blocks ahead, is the best representation I've come across, and is the best defense possible for why bike messengers ride so seemingly crazy. His comparison of the differences in sensory input between bike rider and car driver is striking in its simplicity and impact. His descriptions of riding the streets of Chicago at top speeds are vivid, cinematic, and a section on a wee hours messenger race through deserted streets is intense.

Culley is much less interesting when he starts trying to explain why messengering is so noble, and he veers off into outbursts against officer "suit" types as he tries to expound on the nobility of work that makes you sweat and bleed. Indeed, one of the central contradictions (and thus weaknesses) of the book is that while Culley is busy railing against the corporate world and smirking about how his messenger takings are comparable money to that of salaried office drones, he fails to fully acknowledge that he's just another part of the corporate machine, delivering blueprints and contracts from one corporation to another. It's a rather inconvenient paradox in Culley's existence, one that he is obviously too smart not to recognize, but rather prefers to ignore, hoping that the reader will allow him to have it both ways.

When Culley writes about the American obsession with cars and their negative impact on communities, he becomes rather more formal and earnest. He gives a quite readable account of the rise of the automobile and its stranglehold on transportation planning since WWII. While none of this is new or particularly insightful, he does make a convincing plea for greater attention to and respect for bicyclists. As with much of the book, his attempt to portray the bike messenger as organically linked to the oppressive beast that is the city is romantically overblown and borderline parody. However, it's hard not to get swept up in some of his dreaming about car-free cities, and equally hard not to get angry at local governments who lack the imagination to relinquish at least some portion of the road to cyclists--or at least protect them.

In the end, the books loses 1 star for the editor's failure to reign in the worst excesses of Travis's writing and for not providing a map of Chicago. It loses another star for failing to address the central contradiction of bike messenger life: counterculture, free spirit image vs. corporate errand boy reality.

1. "[The bicycle] is a philosophy, a way of life, and I am using it like a hammer to change the world and to redeem our war-torn cities."

2. "Cadence for cash and Money for miles -- these are the mantras of many a struggling genius."

3. "I began to feel that I was floating, softly looking down upon the city ... from this godlike view, all of my motion seemed effortless ... By the time I could envision a destination I would arrive there as if by magic. I would appear rested, and yet behind me would be the distant reflection of what I had just encountered and just overcome."

4. "Then unexpectedly, like a possessed man, channeling from the world of the dead, I spoke: 'Life sucks, but work is really cool.' ... I woke the next morning to don the armor again."

5. "You begin to see yourself as different, exempt from the so-called universal laws of life and death. This heightened feeling gives the messenger a confidence, a speed, and an agility of almost metaphysical proportions."

6. "I can do anything ... there is a certain space around me, like a force field ... I am untouchable, and everyone knows it. It is a matter of respect. Moving at the speed of commerce, shoveling through all the scales of mankind at once, saving the world all day long, I require at least that much respect."

7. "[T]he phone rang. It was Julie, a dancer and choreographer who was also my girlfriend *at the time*. (I seem to have girlfriends only *at times*. I am not sure why, but for me, love never seems to stick.)

8. "I hopped over the gray countertop, hoisted my bike onto my shoulder with a 'By this, ye shall conquer' kind of valor, and clamored out the front door, fully prepared, once again, to make my contribution to the world."

Such self-indulgence fills the book. Culley's chapters about getting doored and finding his way into messengering descend further into annoying self-study. Descriptions of burning through intersections are meant to impress, but they invite derision. Melodramatic passages about Critical Mass do not ring true. The pseudo-impressionism of the section about Jon Boub reduces both credibility and clarity.

Culley wants to reveal himself and fellow bike messengers in full complex humanity, but his over-the-top rhetoric miscarries him. In Culley's view, messengers (and cyclists in general) are fundamentally different from drivers. Such a view is misguided. Many drivers are also cyclists, and most cyclists are also drivers. Your attitude and patience will vary depending on which kind of vehicle (car or bike) you happen to be using. That's a crucial point and Culley misses it.

Bike messengers, and cyclists generally, need a book that depicts their on-the-road experience with accuracy and balance -- and that tells the story in a way that may really help non-cycling motorists understand. This book isn't it.

I admire Culley's energy and enthusiasm, and do not doubt his sincerity of purpose, but I can't give this book more than a single star.

Bloated ego?? Misinformed angst?? Did I read the SAME book as this person who chose not to name themselves in their review???

I don't even remember how I ended up buying this book, to be honest. Perhaps a recommendation when searching authors or something, but I'm thrilled I did. Seems everyone else (who have said POSITIVE things!) has stated my feelings about this book - I loved it. (And every one of the 4 different bike messengers who have come into my place of employment has read this book and loved it as well.) I just wanted to say that Travis Culley HAS reached his potential. His powers of observation are unparalleled. His insight into human behaviors is right on. His passion is intense. His ability to put into words his every movement, feeling, ache and pain so that it transfers from the page straight to the reader seems effortless. It's a wonderful read. Pure and simple. I hated finishing the book, and I'll miss my lunch 1/2 hours that I spent reading it, which I called "lunch with Travis." All I want to know now is... what's next, Trav??

A thwarted theater producer, he signed on to be a bike messenger in Chicago, a city he obviously loves and wants to care for. The descriptions of the career of bike messenger are the most vivid and enjoyable parts of the book. It is peppered throughout with radio jargon: "10-4, boss. I'm going to drop the bucket of Bucklin, grab a bouquet of Rosies, roll off the Fairbanks, and hit you on the outside of the Dentist." (Only some of the talk is translated; "the Dentist" is, for instance, the headquarters of the American Dental Association.) It is full of collisions which are rather beautifully and balletically described: "When my front wheel slipped out from beneath me, I fell forward, smacked the asphalt with my back, and began sliding in a straight line between the two cars. I could feel the white lines in the road skipping beneath my messenger bag, _thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump_..." After an accident, "Messengering bloody was kind of cool. Secretaries would offer me napkins and things to tell me that I needed to freshen the bandages... At first I couldn't distinguish sweat from blood, so I kept wiping everything with a blood-drenched hanky." Afterward he gets stitches at home from a medical resident, his girlfriend. Eating and drinking are altered for the messenger's exhausting routine; Howard Johnson's eggs, pancakes, and grits for breakfast, with snacks through the day of granola mixed with M&M's and dried fruit. "If I didn't eat at least three ounces by noon, I would be brain-dead by 1:30, slurring my words and overshooting my streets, stoned from depletion." I don't want to live this life, but it is a thrill to read about it.

Culley saves his harshest words for city and state governments that refuse to recognize bicyclists as road-users with road-privileges, for the police who break up his demonstrations, and for those of us who simply accept the automobile as the way it has to be. He is no longer a messenger; his injured knee eventually gave out, and he now commutes to his gallery job, by bicycle, to be sure. He is still active in advocacy for his dream transportation, and while his visions of a Chicago "covered with bike-only streets, quiet trains, and a patient, car-free delivery-based roadway" are overoptimistic, his idealism in placing bike messengers in the center of such a Chicago and thereby improving the streets, neighborhoods, atmosphere, and economies of the city he loves, is really rather sweet. He thinks there are plenty of good people out there who just don't know the alternative to SUV's and creeping commutes. They will if they read his entertaining book.

On the other hand, the socialist politics and the 'me vs. The World' mentality gets old after a couple of chapters. The author seems to indicate that it is a crime to own a house in the 'burbs, but would think nothing of smashing out the headlights of a car that makes him nervous. The seemingly endless diatribes on the evils of automobiles and the 'White Suburban Republicans in their SUV's' whose only mission, according to Culley, is to destroy everything that keeps them from 'Making Time' really damage the flow of the story.

A great book for those with a deep interest in urban cycling or militant activists. For me, though, an activist works with other road users to iron out ways all parties can use the infrastructure. A fun read at times, but not worth the anger quotient.

Culley's book is about his brief stint as a bike messenger in downtown Chicago and his rage against car-crazed America. During the course of the book, Culley tries to preach to choir about a back to basics approach to modern living. And while that sounds like a humble and inoffensive premise for a memoir, Culley gets it all wrong by blaming everyone but himself, for the way things are today. He has endless rants about the evils of money, how corporations are inherently evil, how the city is too loud and has too many buildings. One thing he convinently leaves out is that the bike messenger industry is fueled by, in large part, corporations.

I really wanted to like this book, but it's terribly written, incredibly insipid, and unintelligent.

Culley tells us his story as an artist, bike messenger, environmental activist. I think he tells us the story so we can make some effort to inspect the development of our individual, national, and global story, and the purpose and future of human existence. A powerful first appearance by Mr. Culley.

Still the book is pretty good. His view of cities and history is realistic, and the description of the courier offices and the seemy side of the business is spot on.

157

It's really too bad. Culley has a lot to say, and his thoughts on auto culture and the corporate workplace are very interesting (if hardly uniquely his). But having to wade through his lurid purple prose makes it a long, hard ride indeed.

You can tell Travis loves to write and in great detail. He is a poetic young man, full of emotion, and wonder, and it really comes through in his writing. Rarely do you meet an author so in touch with his own feelings. He really loves his job. All the experiences that he has in this very special & different type of job is expressed in beautiful & colorful language.

I truly enjoyed reading this book. Now I really know what it must be like to be a bike messenger in a large metropolis. A talented new writer races before us! Be prepared to hold on tight. Well-done!!!

Culley captures that love more than anything I have ever read.

At his best, Culley tells his story as a bike messenger in Chicago. The hard work, poverty, fraternity, exhiliration, desperation and freedom that all churn together into an energetic and passionate story. Here, Culley writes well and at times recalls Steinbeck themes of little man against the big system. Through this vibrancy, Culley commands the reader's sympathy.

However, Culley wastes much of this sympaythy by commanding, not just the attention of all you non-cyclists, but also your converted loyalty to his political vision. He's more likely to offend than persuade. It certainly fits Culley's personality and vigor, though. His diversions into urban history, city planning, and civics are very basic, and only succeed in taking away from the story he's telling. Only readers new to thinking about the way of cities will find his urban advice worthwhile.

If Culley had kept to the story of his experience, even brought out his political visions through a fictionalized first person account, Culley would have written a more complete book, an excellent book, and certainly a more influential book. As it is now though, too many readers will be shamed and soured by the last pages.

Still, many friends will be receiving this book from me, but just carefully chosen friends.

And for those who have never bicycled 35 mph (gravity aided) down Wisconsin Avenue, it really is like flying.

The Immortal Class is a fun read. His prose starts off a little ackwardly in the first chapter but he finds his cadence quickly. A difficult book to put down.

I recommend this book and also commuting by bike (a great stress buster).

Still, this is an impressive debut; with sharp dialogue, just enough of the jargon bike messengers use amongst themselves, and the author's knowledge of and love/hate relationship with Chicago, Travis Hugh Culley manages to lift this book far above the level of most memoirs, particularly those written by members of his generation. This is not a perfect book, by any means -- but few life stories succeed in giving the reader such a strong sense of BEING THERE. Culley didn't go to Chicago to become a bike messenger OR a writer. Yet his accidental sojourn into the realm of the bike messenger refined and redefined his sense of self, and the transformational nature of his journey comes through in his book; we are fortunate that the author has taken us along for the ride.

Some people doubt Travis's sincerity, thinking he sees himself as God or something. That's totally not the case. He claims only one day in the spotlight as having delivered the most packages, for example -- (...)

I am a dedicated bike commuter through the varied (but often severe!) climates of urban Minneapolis. The issues of safety, environmental concerns, coexistence in an automobile dominated world, and pure psycho-physical exhiliration of a good ride are dealt with so effectively and are dear to my heart.

The writing is engaging. I did not want to put it down and was sad to finish. Travis, I hope we will meet again in our readings!

I especially enjoyed Culley's telling of the sad story of cyclist Jon Boub and the ensuing legal battles and implications for cyclists everywhere. A little research on the Web informs me that this case is still moving through the system and has awakened many who love cycling to the challenges we face in occupying a portion of the roadway. Likewise Culley's portrayal of Critical Mass' interactions with the Chicago Police is truly frightening.

Finally, Culley's book gave me a personal and fascinating look at one part of the culture of cycling. Most of the media focused on bicycles fails to go beyond the acquisition of gear or the training programs to use the gear. Bike messengers and commuters have a much more practical interest-spinning our way through our cities safely and efficiently, and sometimes promoting the idea that the car-that ultimate symbol of personal freedom and mobility-has in the end driven our civic life to gridlock.

Together, these elements make for a book with a unique perspective. The bicycle is shown to be a tool and not used by just the underlings of the world.

Some of the information I had readbefore, so I skipped over it.

If you did not know the workings of the Interstate Highways, subsidization of automobiles and how little freedom someone on a bicycle has, this is an awakening.

If you wondered how messengers do it, this tells it quite well.

I highly recommend this book.