Experience AIDS/LifeCycle 4 (2005)

It’s been a very long day. It began at the inhumanely early hour of 3am when some of us, sleeping soundly in our pup tents in the midst of about 1000 other tents containing over 2000 of our nearest and dearest, were awakened by… a watery sound. There was definitely water involved, but it didn’t sound like rain. After a few head-scratching beats, the realization: Sprinklers on automatic timers!

Mayhem. Pandemonium. Bleary-eyed people scurrying around in the 45-degree darkness, a few quick-thinking heroes grabbing garbage cans and covering the offending Rainbirds, one quick-thinking hero of questionable sanity throwing his own body over one of them (ending up in short order in the medical tent being treated for hypothermia), one victim of a direct fire-hose-like blast shouting out, “It’s too late for me! Save yourselves!” The sweet Roadies of Gear and Tent let the water-logged tents dry out and then took ‘em down. Tents were moved to higher ground and somehow most people managed to salvage something resembling a night’s sleep.

We heard many sprinkler stories during the day -- people talked of little else -- but here’s our favorite. Two of our colleagues and fellow riders who work in the LAGLC Development Department, Tammy Decker and Patrick Smith, are tent-mates this week. When they heard the aforementioned watery noises, they assumed it was rain. Remembering they’d left their shoes outside their tent, Tammy leapt out of her sleeping bag to pull them inside. Just as she unzipped the flap, a sprinkler hit her full in the face, drenching her, Patrick and all of their belongings.

Remarkably, they told us this story in the most charming and affable way with big plates of food in their hands and anxious to start riding (what else is there). That sentiment pretty much sums up the attitude of the entire ALC4 community. Nothing, not even this nighttime deluge can dampen the good-natured, cheerful camaraderie that this event brings out in all of us.

Other impressions from today:

• Wind behind GOOD; wind in front BAD.
• Small children along the route waving and cheering their encouragement. They stick out their hands and yell “give me five!” as we ride by and we do.
• Grazing upon Deep Fried Artichoke Hearts at the famous roadside stand.
• Early riders at Lunch getting a treat – pizza! Cowboy Pizza in Salinas sent over a mountain of pies. It turns out that owners Mel and Vi Brooks have a son, Jeff Henson-Brooks, who’s riding this year. He’s raised over $22,000 for the ride this year! Mama Vi is a Communications Roadie. So next time you find yourself in Salinas stop by, have a pie and take a ride on the mechanical bull.
• The Cookie Lady, dressed in – what else? – a cookie costume, dispensing home-made goodies as the start of the (bad) windiest part of the route.
• The jaw-dropping beauty of the Salinas Valley from a bicycle seat, roaring through it at the (good) windiest part of the route.
• Inside Mission La Soledad, the location for a water stop, participants taking a moment to add their messages to the altar cloth that will be used in next week’s mass. It reminded us all what’s really important and why we’re all here.
• Seeing the intrepid Lorri L. Jean at various points during the day, cycling her heart out, with a picture of Jeff Henry, her beloved former assistant who succumbed to AIDS a number of years ago, attached to her bicycle seat.

It’s freezing, dinner’s over, and it’s time for bed. We’ll talk to you tomorrow.

Reporting by:

• Quentin O’Brien, Director of the Health and Mental Health Services (Rider #3532), LAGLC
• Curt Shepard, Director of Government Relations (Rider #3029), LAGLC
• "Aunt Blabby"