Experience AIDS/LifeCycle 4 (2005)

Was it really just a week ago that we left San Francisco?!?

Seven days of sweat, laughter and tears, and still, you look fabulous!!!

You did it! All 585 miles of it. You raised the money, you did the training, and now you made it to Los Angeles. First time riders -- you had the audacity and the courage to believe that you could ride from San Francisco to Los Angeles. Veteran riders -- some of whom have made this journey more than ten times -- you had the tenacity to come back and brave the morning fog, and face once again the evil twins, quadbuster and two century rides.

You endured … and You prevailed.

DAY ONE. We gathered, already a bit sleep deprived and under-caffeinated, and immediately started climbing hills. We set out to raise awareness about the continued impact of HIV on our communities, and in the process, also raised a record $6.8 million.

We began our ride that day as individuals, each with our own personal anxieties and hopes. And in the course of seven days, we became a unified community.

DAY TWO. We were awakened by sprinklers at 2:30 in the morning. It was a rude awakening. But the now famous shout in the dark, “It’s too late for me; save yourselves!!!” captured the humor, and even grace, with which our budding community faced adversity.

For many of you, Day Two was your first century. It was also the day we visited Mission Soledad, where in its humble cool sanctuary we remembered loved ones and reflected on the reasons we embarked on this journey.

And after a long grueling day, we were grateful for the warm, dry tail wind that blew us into camp.

DAY THREE. We left King City for Paso Robles and faced quad buster – our biggest hill yet. We were greeted in Bradley by school children who sold us burgers, chili dogs and special edition pens and T-shirts.

We visited the Von Trapp Family who convinced us that the hills were indeed alive with the sound of music.

DAY FOUR. Paso Robles to Santa Maria – our second century.

We defeated the evil twins. And at the mid-point in our journey, were met by the lovely Ginger Brulee in her fetching, champagne dress and smart sun hat. In a long, and sometimes scary descent, we arrived at the ocean.

Later, along the 101, we faced grates in the pavement that made our teeth chatter and feel like they were about to fall out. But, at camp, the struggles of the day were nearly forgotten as we enjoyed the delicious strawberries generously provided by the Santa Maria Chamber of Commerce.

DAY FIVE. The 42 mile day.

Dressed in all shades of red, we began the day with letters from school kids:

Mine read:

Dear Bike Rider,
Do your best to help the sick people. Remember to be safe. Drink water and Gatorade. Watch out for glass. I am grateful.
Sincerely, Pooja

Somehow, the words of these children captured the goodwill and support we experienced in town after town.

After dinner, we were entertained by the hysterical and multi-faceted talents of the AIDS/LifeCycle community, emceed by the irreverent Lea Delaria. Singers, jugglers, dancers, poets -- and even an 18 year old flutist who chose to miss her own high graduation to be with us. You amazed and delighted us!

By DAY SIX, our towels were getting a bit dicey, as were our clothes. Stretching and yoga had become a part of our daily morning ritual. Still, the week was taking its toll – many of us were cranky, and needed someone to tell us, “You’re a kitty, I’m a kitty – You’re a kitty, I’m a kitty.”

In Santa Barbara, the dozens of volunteers at Paradise Pit from the Pacific Pride Foundation lifted our spirits with smiles and ice cream.

After a beautiful coastal ride, we arrived in Ventura, our last night together. Holding candles, on a calm and serene beach, we paid tribute to the lovers, friends, and family members we have lost. We raised our candles in silence, expressing our resolve that we will bring an end to AIDS.

THIS MORNING, we left camp for the last time, with decidedly mixed emotions -- relieved that real beds and flushing toilets await us, yet saddened that our time together was coming to an end.

And in the closing moments of this ride, we are eager to celebrate with our families and friends who have joined us here to mark our accomplishment.

Throughout these seven days, I’ve been particularly moved by the Positive Pedalers who constantly demonstrate real courage by facing HIV head on and inspire us all to keep going. And I’ve also been amazed by the dedication and commitment of the 400-plus volunteer Roadies who have made this all possible. And I especially want to thank our partner, the L.A. Gay and Lesbian Center and their extraordinary CEO, Lorri Jean, as well as all of the AIDS/LifeCycle staff who worked tirelessly to make this journey a reality.

As I reflect on this week, I’m in awe of what we have accomplished. Before me, I see a sea of heroes who pushed themselves to do things they never believed they could do.

Here you stand with chapped lips, sore quads, aching shoulders, bizarre tan lines and a deep, well-earned sense of pride. You all look beautiful.

This ride has changed you. You met and befriended people of different ages, races, and sexual orientations. You stretched your body in ways you never knew were possible. You helped fellow riders change flat tires, set up tents, and care for their aching bodies. And through all this, you discovered a source of power and confidence you never knew existed.

We leave here united in purpose to bring an end to the AIDS epidemic and to bring comfort and support to those who are living with HIV. As the Nobel Peace Prize winner, Elie Wiesel, said, “Our lives do not belong to us alone, our lives belong to those who need us.”

You are heroes; each and everyone one of you. It has been a great honor to share this ride with you.

Thank you for making AIDS/LifeCycle 4 such a huge success.

Thank you for riding to end AIDS.