John Platt's AIDS/LifeCycle Blog

THE RIDE PART 2 (long, long, long)

Sun, 15 Jun 2008 15:51:00 PST

DAY 5, RED DRESS DAY

The costumery OUTRAGEOUS. Some speedo riders, Bling 1 and Bling 2, the golfers, Raggedy Ann and Andy, the Incredibles, the Heineken Deutsch team, the lifeguards, and all manner of red dress and undress everywhere. Getting out of my tent and seeing a sea of red was amazing. We were relaxed about leaving, knowing it was a short 42-mile day. Another snaffoo leaving bike parking. We agreed to meet ahead of bike parking, on the right, and three of us waited for nearly 30 minutes for Mary and for Kathy’s friend, Dan. Was she having trouble with her high-heeled red boots with biking cleats attached? Well, it turns out that she was, so when the route was about to close we set off without her and hoped for the best. I hate being near the back of the pack and being pressed for time, but one advantage was that we certainly got a good look at what almost every rider was wearing as they passed us during our wait. Another endless journey out of town through countless red lights and stop signs. When we finally arrived at rest stop 1 we were told that they were closing in 5 minutes. So, a quick bathroom break and we set off at a quicker pace. We finally hooked up with Uncle Dan, Frank, Mary, and Kathy’s friend, Dan in Cosmalia. The rest stop was at the end of Main Street, but we didn’t even get close to going there. The entire Main Street was shut down, and people were dancing in the streets, taking photos, and patronizing the Main Street businesses. We were told Mary would be sagging the rest of the way to camp, getting a ride in Frank’s truck, because only one of her high-heeled cleats was working. Bummer, but she seemed to take it quite well. Well, we somehow got separated from Henry, after saying goodbye to the Vencills, so Kathy, Dan, and I rode together now. We skipped the official lunch stop and had lunch at a nice Mexican restaurant nearby. YUM (and a REAL bathroom with NO LINES). From lunch the rest of the day’s ride was only 6 miles, and I got a little ahead of Kathy on some screaming downhills. 2 or 3 substantial climbs today, and how funny to see people SO DRESSED UP and working so hard. At the first climb I told Kathy I’d meet her at the top. I then proceeded to FLY up that hill. I passed hundreds, and two riders passed me, but before the top each of them ran out of steam and I passed them back. On the second climb I decided to spin slowly up behind Kathy in my easiest gear, and that was a fun and different way to do the climb. I had a great time riding all day with Kathy, though I should mention that riding with Kathy means WAITING. On one other climb I waited at the top, and waited, and finally Dan got up there. “Where’s Kathy?” echoed through the hills one more time, and he told me that she had stopped halfway up to help a woman change her tire. One great thing about the ride and about Kathy is that that is typical behavior. It may not be convenient for the other riders with whom you are riding, but it is heroic help for the rider in need, the one with the flat tire. As it turned out, that rider needed not only a new innertube but a new tire as well, so Kathy arrived maybe 40 minutes later. I DO love my cousin, and she is helping me become a more patient person, minute by minute. Anyhow, we arrived at camp at around 2:30 and the wonderful gear truck roadies had unloaded our gear and carried it TO our spots on the tent grid. Bless those roadies. Unfortunately, our spot on the grid was hummocky and sandy and crawling with red ants, so I quickly grabbed the tent and found THE MAGIC CAMPSITE. It was in the shade of some pine trees at the edge of a large pond with no room nearby for other tents. I was able to hang all of my damp gear in the trees and fetch our luggage and have everything set up by the time Frank came around. He approved. At 3:30 we had some great Frogpuppy photos shot. It was still early afternoon, but the COOL winds were howling, as they’d done all week. We’d had a few hot moments, but overall the riding weather was perfect, other than some very strong winds. Oh, the note I got on Day 5 included a short but pointed message from Sanders. It read: “If it really is Red Dress Day like Mom said, then I am no longer related to you. Good luck riding in a dress.” Hannah and Flora wrote that they missed me, and Flora said she was sure I’d be beautiful in a red dress. Eliza told me to say hi to Uncle Dan. Day 5 evening program included a talent night. Highlights included a racey tune by Lois, who must be close to 70 years old. She called it ON YOUR LEFT, and sung it to the tune of OVER THERE, and many verses simply can not be repeated. She asked us not to tell her grandkids. Albie Park, another Frogpuppy read a dramatic poem about the death of his lover, and it was very moving. Rest stop 4 boys repeated their GREASE medley to thunderous applause, and a juggler and a glow-in-the-dark spinner were NEAT. Some truly awful singing too.

DAY 6

Breakfast line with Lois and her husband, Jerry. I had been talking to them in the predawn darkness for a moment before I realized it was LOIS. I gave her a HUGE hug and told her how impressed I’d been with her song, and then I turned to Jerry and said, “You’re one LUCKY guy.” “Don’t I know it,” was his quick reply. Again, we shared stories and histories in our brief time together. Day 6 was another day just for me, and I tried to get out at 6:30 again. What conspired against me was my memory. For the first time all week I could not remember where I’d parked my bike, and it took me 15 minutes to find it. It was only because Kathy had her name on her bike that I finally did find mine, parked right next to it. Each rack has the name of a rock group on the end of it, and mine was in ZZ Top. Anyhow, I rode strong and near the front all day again, though riding near the front does include one slight danger. I was at some of the turns before motorcycle safety crew was there, so I had to keep a sharp eye out. At one point, as I entered Santa Barbara, I must have spaced out for a while because all of a sudden I noticed no route markers and no other riders. OOOOOOOOOPS. Well, I didn’t panic, and I realized that near the coast it’s EASY to get your bearings. Keep the mountains on my left and the ocean on my right and I must be heading south. I played left-right for a while, beating my way southwest as the roads allowed, and finally I got to a street that would take me all the way to the beach. I gulped hard and hoped for the best. Sure enough, when I hit the beach and took a left I was back on the route, thank goodness. I DID have my cellphone with me, but the emergency number on my wristband was pretty faded by then. Next stop was one of my favorites of the whole ride, and that’s for two reasons. Reason number one is that it is NOT an official rest stop at all and is not affiliated with AIDSLifeCycle in any way. It is set up and run by caring citizens of Santa Barbara, and they pour on the LOVE. I had 6 scoops of gourmet ice cream, and a couple of dozen of the best strawberries I’ve EVER eaten, and all of this was on a beautifully shaded piece of greenery that the locals named PARADISE PIT. I’m so glad my off-route behavior did not lead me to bypass this stop. The last 10 miles to Ventura were right down the beach and a bit slower because of all of the pedestrian and local bike traffic, and I rode with an assistant high school principal named Michael with whom I’d ridden on Day 4, my other day near the front of the pack. I set up my and Frank’s tent in another prime, off-grid location in the shade of a nice tree, and then Michael and I met for a walk over the dunes to the beach. WHAT A GREAT SWIM in the cold Pacific, and I managed to ride a few waves too, during my 15 minutes in the water. From there it was right to the shower trucks where there was NO WAIT, but on our way off the beach an older woman literally blessed us for what we were doing on this ride, and her blessing was so warm that it really stuck with me. During my dinner #1, at about 4:30, Ken Thomason, the Chicken Lady himself entered the dining tent, and when his presence was discovered he was greeted with a standing ovation. He was overcome with emotion and thanked profusely all those around him. I’m so glad to have seen that moment in time, and the outpouring of love for Ken was so deserved, considering all he has done for riders over the years and the fact that he is recovering from a recent stroke. Frank and I then set up Mary and Kathy’s tent and Dan and Henry’s tent and fetched their gear too. I then had some great phone calls with Flora and the kids, who had already received my postcard from the mission, and with my brother, Waddy. I also, for the first time, went to check my online messages of support and was pleasantly surprised to find 7 or 8 of them, 2 from my mom, 2 from my sister, Carrie, one from the Samokar family (Madison was in my class this year), one from Molly and Cat, and one from Flora and my youngest, Eliza (her message brought me to tears ONE MORE TIME). How nice to receive all of this support from friends, family, and from thousands of strangers along the way. After dinner #2, I loved Ken Thomason’s reading of TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE FINISH (of THE RIDE), read to the rhythm of Night Before Christmas. Again, he was greeted with a thunderous standing ovation. That was followed by the candlelight vigil on Ventura Beach. There was no set program and no one leading the vigil. We simply lit more than 2000 candles and headed over the dunes to the beach. We gathered in a VERY large elongated circle, and we became relatively motionless and silent. The Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence (I’ll have to make it a point to learn more about this group, but I DO know that they’ve done a lot in the LA HIV/AIDS community) did march around the inside of the perimeter of the circle, and I thought that was a bit out of place and self-centered, but there were no rules. The most powerful moment for me was when someone across the circle simply raised his or her candle 3 or 4 feet, and EVERYONE in the circle followed suit, a silent escalation of our vigil, or a salute to the heavens. The power was in the collective and contagious spread of the upward motion, and watching candle flames go upward all around this massive circle of light. It was another give-me-chills kind of powerful maelstrom of emotions. Following that, I had another great sleep in the quiet of my tent with the knowledge that 60 more miles meant the end. I already had mixed emotions about that.

DAY 7, THE END

With a very quick breakfast on the last morning I had some extra time before Ventura Beach yoga with Shokai at 6:30, so I did some journal writing. I reflected on the great interactions I’d had all week with other riders, Frogpuppies, roadies, medical staff, and with my extended family. I had enjoyed learning the rhymes and rhythms of camp life and figuring out how to move through camp and through THE RIDE most efficiently. The scenery was incredible, from the agricultural and mountainous interior to the beauty of riding RIGHT along the ocean. It was great to learn that I could muster the intense concentration and motivation required to ride safely and to complete all of the mileage for seven straight days. It was great to know that I was strong enough to have ridden quite a bit more mileage quite a bit more quickly. I thought about the end, and what a huge mixture of relief, regret, and exhaustion it would be. I imagined the crazy support at the finish line in LA, and I wished there were some people there JUST for me. I looked forward to the ROCK STAR ovations. Today I would ride with TEAM BRAD, and the 60-mile day would be a piece of cake. Relaxed mode. Yoga on the beach with Shokai was exactly as it should have been. Sun rising behind us, Shokai and the breaking waves of the Pacific in front of us, sand yielding and warming to the touch of my skin and the touch of the morning sun. One last big hug from Shokai, and we were off…………sort of. The rest of TEAM BRAD had been at yoga dressed in their riding gear, so when we left I told Mary where I’d like to meet and hustled off to my tent to change clothes, pack up gear and tent, bring gear to gear truck for the last time, and hustle to fill water bottles and get to bike parking. And then I WAITED, and WAITED, and WAITED. Mary showed up at our meeting place, without her bike, and then while she was gone, for a long while, the others showed up wondering where she’d been, because they’d been waiting for her elsewhere. NOTE TO SELF: next time stop the ENTIRE group and arrange a meeting place with EVERYONE. There was no rush anyway, since who wants to be in LA early for closing ceremonies, but I will admit to being just a touch exasperated, again. By the time we all gathered it was 10 minutes before route closure, and we were near the back of the pack again. The last 60 miles of coastal riding was GORGEOUS, but I must already have been in a bit of a post-ride funk because I was GRUMPY. Part of it was our super-slow pace; braking and coasting for much of 60 miles is just not for me. Can we at least keep pedaling??? Also, Kathy was right in front of me describing her entire 4-month trip to Europe to older friend and TEAM BRAD member, John Sonnebourn, and while I LOVED hearing about her trip, the slow pace and the fact that John had all of her attention when maybe I wanted some of it made me even grumpier. Rest stop 1 was a mess, but I did what I needed to do and then………yep, waited. I was trying, really trying, to be patient, but I wanted to open it up and ride hard even if it meant waiting in LA for a while. When 5 of us gathered to discuss tentative lunch plans at a restaurant, and a few people THOUGHT they remembered the location, I’d had enough. I told the others that I’d be eating lunch right there at the official lunch stop and that I’d meet them later, and I didn’t wait for a reply. I guess Mary either felt the same way or wanted to keep me company because she rode in with me. We had a nice lunch in the shade, and I shared some of my frustrations with her, frustrations at trying to coordinate with a large, somewhat dysfunctional group, frustrations at the very slow riding pace, frustrations at the ride’s nearing an end. I’m glad she chose to have lunch with me, and we found the others easily after lunch. The pace did pick up a bit, and my mood was much better after food. A few miles later I discovered that I’d lost my first water bottle. I guess I’d given myself permission to lose it now that I didn’t really need it any more. Oh well. The route required a ton of concentration due to the busy nature of the Pacific Coast Highway and all of the weekend beachgoers and surfers parking and entering and exiting parked vehicles on the right side of the road. Once, we left the coast and started heading inland in Hollywood we stopped at a coffee shop to regroup and go to the restroom before the last mile. The mood was very light-hearted and celebratory, and the last mile, including one last STEEP climb, flew by. The crowds at the finish were just as I’d imagined; what a PARTY. Some moving speeches at the ceremony itself, but it was a LONG wait, the sound system was weak, and the sun was HOT. One guy who was leaning on his motionless bike fell over backwards, bike and all, and his climb to his feet, unscathed, was greeted with a raucous ovation. Another funny incident, funny if it’s not your bike, happened in bike parking, as I’d seen and heard it happen several times during the course of the week. All of a sudden there was a very loud POW, and a collective chorus of OH’s and groans. Someone’s innertube had exploded in the hot sunshine, while the bike was parked at the finish line. How funny. Highlights of the closing ceremonies included speeches by Lorri Jean of the LA Gay and Lesbian Center and Mark Cloutier of the San Francisco AIDS Foundation, leaders of the two organizations benefitting most directly from our fundraising. Here’s what Lorri had to say:

Hello Riders! Hello Roadies! You did it! You made it! All the way from San Francisco more than 545 miles! Welcome to Los Angeles.

You riders pedaled your hearts out! You rode through some of the most beautiful countryside in the world and over some of the most intimidating hills. And you survived! And look at this crowd! Thousands of people are here to welcome you because they know what I know. We all know that each and every one of you is a HERO! Many of you rode every single mile, others rode every mile you could, and everyone did their best.

All of you spectators here to greet your friends and loved ones--do you know what these amazing riders and roadies have done in the fight against AIDS? They have raised over $11.6 million dollars! Thank you for supporting them in their quest.

I also want to thank all of our corporate sponsors, especially: Gilead, Shopoff Properties Trust and Fed Ex: Each of these companies had the corporate integrity and vision to support the AIDS/LifeCycle and to help us make a difference in the fight against AIDS. Please support them in return!

My wonderful riders and roadies, thank you for your remarkable passion and unfailing dedication. Because of you, thousands of people with AIDS and HIV will be able to come to the L.A. Gay & Lesbian Center and the San Francisco AIDS Foundation and get the medical care and other help that they desperately need. Thanks to you, thousands more will learn how to prevent the spread of HIV. Further, you’ve created enormous awareness about HIV and AIDS. Because of all that YOU have done, literally thousands of lives will be saved.

But if we’ve learned anything over the past week, it’s that the AIDS/LifeCycle is about so much more than that. It s also about the memories we made, memories that we will cherish forever. The drummers at the top of highway 92 on the way to Half Moon Bay. The beautiful strawberry fields outside of Santa Cruz. The skinny dipping and tailwinds into King City. Quadbuster. Especially those who did it more than once! The little kids in Bradley and all along the route. The spectacular views at the halfway point. Red Dress Day! The Paradise Pit. The candlelight vigil in Ventura. The final day along the Pacific Coast Highway, and last but not least, Ginger Brewlay!

As we stand here today, triumphant, exhausted, proud and happy, we know that the true magic of the AIDS/LifeCycle is even greater still. The true magic of this ride is what you riders and roadies represent. You have shown that intimidating challenges can be overcome when we face them together. You have shown that anyone can help to make a significant difference in the fight against AIDS and that it takes all kinds of people to succeed &whether we are gay or straight, HIV positive or negative, regardless of gender or race or age or physical ability we are in this together and we will NOT allow ourselves to be divided when it comes to fighting AIDS. We have created a unique community over the past week, one filled with love and compassion and kindness and commitment, exactly the kind of community we must strive for in the larger world if we are to find an end to AIDS.

Today, as we prepare to leave, please join me in vowing not to let your commitment stop here. Let us vow to take the loving and uplifting spirit of the AIDS/LifeCycle with us to our homes, our neighborhoods, our workplaces, our place of worship and our schools. Let us vow to continue the fight against AIDS, against ignorance, against bigotry and homophobia. Let us vow not to stop until we’re concluding the last AIDS LifeCycle as a victory ride in celebration of finally winning the battle against AIDS. May that day come soon.

Finally, my wonderful riders, my phenomenal roadies, my beloved friends, I will never be able to adequately express my gratitude for the sacrifices you have made to participate in AIDS/LifeCycle 7. For one hellacious and glorious week you epitomized the best that people can be. You were kind and giving and gracious and tender and hilarious. It was my great honor to join you along the route. I love you, I am inspired by you, and in my heart you will always be heroes. THANK YOU!"

Mark Cloutier of the SF AIDS Foundation gave his best speech of the week after failing to match Lorri’s enthusiasm and wit for most of the trip. I wish I had a copy of what he said too. One COOL part of the ceremony was that riders occupied the right third of the audience and the left third, and the middle section was left completely vacant. Then, when all riders were assembled, the ROADIES were called in to fill that empty section. They were greeted with HUGE applause and cheers and high-fives. Mary and Kathy, who knew what was going on, had positioned us right on the rail closest to the ROADIE section so that we were in good position to give and receive many of these warm, enthusiastic high-fives. LOVE was flowing in each and every direction. Again, the most moving part of the ceremony was when the Positive Pedalers mirrored their procession from opening ceremonies; their two-by-two solemn march with banners of love to loved ones lost. The last two riders in were our oldest and youngest riders, 82 and 18 respectively, one on each side of the riderless bike. A note on the handlebars of the bike read: “For all the angels riding with us.” Again, I was moved to tears. After the ceremony we met Brad’s parents, all of us wearing our TEAM BRAD jerseys, and Kathy presented them with a TEAM BRAD jersey of their own. What a beautiful gift, and I could see that Brad’s folks were really moved by it. It really was thanks to Brad that all of us were involved in this ride, and we were sure to let his parents know that. I also told Brad’s dad, when we had a chance to talk alone for a second, that I’d lost my dad 27 years ago and that I rode with him in mind, and we shared a big hug right then. It turns out that Brad’s parents had a combined 80 years in education, so we talked shop a bit too. More great people. Finally we headed for the gear trucks one last time. I rode there and got there quickly, and I found our four gear bags and set them and myself up in the shade. There I talked for a bit with a rider from Phoenix who’d had a tough time of it but who was determined to be back next year. Not many hills in Phoenix. We got all the gear and two bikes loaded in the back of Frank’s truck, said goodbye to Kathy, who was heading to Santa Barbara with Daniel and Henry, and we set off for Pasadena, where Mary, Dan, and Frank would be staying with old friends and where I’d be staying with one of my oldest and dearest childhood friends, Alex Kimball. A LONG drive through LA traffic later, and we were at Alex’s house. As I pulled my gear bag from the truck I pulled out a book of photos, and inside of it was a picture of my dad crossing the finish line of the New York Marathon in 1976. I’d carried the picture all week because the expression of pure joy and elation on his face is one that mirrored my week-long experience. I wanted Mary to see the picture of her big brother taken so many years ago. Hugs for my aunt, my uncle, and Cousin Frank, all of whom I’d see after a train ride up the coast 48 hours later, and then it was off to Alex and his family for a LOT OF SLEEP and FOOD. That’s it, ride over. 545 miles and not a single flat tire. Incredible experience, all in all, from the beginning of training in early February to the end of the ride in early June. Life-affirming giver of hope and love. Idyllic gypsy community and awesome athletic accomplishment. Life-changing? Yep. I’m so grateful to have been able to participate.

THE RIDE (very, very long.........very)

Sun, 15 Jun 2008 15:36:00 PST

THE RIDE (part 1)

I kept a handwritten journal in the final days leading up to THE RIDE, during THE RIDE itself, and for a few days immediately following THE RIDE. Here is what I wrote, and I’ll do my best to improve and embellish it as I go along.

I attended the 8^th grade graduation from TLS, where I teach, Friday morning, May 30^th. I was happy to have Hannah along for that part of my day, and I look forward to next year when we celebrate the end of Sanders’s close to 10 years within those halls of learning. We stayed a few minutes after the ceremony and had a few quick goodbyes, and then we headed home so that I could change clothes, grab my gear, and head for Louisville for my flight west.

So, all my gear was in the front hall at home, and I was ready to leave after saying goodbye to Sanders and Hannah when Hannah came up and handed me seven white envelopes. I read what was on each one, and I burst into big, weepy tears. There was one note to be opened each day of the ride, and they were all labeled with a “Day 1” or a “Day 4.” Flora and all three kids had written a short note for each day, and I would begin each day’s ride by reading these notes of love and encouragement. Oh my!!! Flora, Eliza, Hannah, and I held each other in a big group hug, and all of us cried hard. Intense moment.

Eliza was kind enough to escort her mom and me to the airport, about an hour’s drive from home. It was good for Flora to have that company for the return trip to Versailles after what was a very sad parting. We figured out that in almost 22 years together that we had not spent this much time apart, almost two full weeks, since the very earliest days of our relationship, back in the late 1980’s.

Check-in was smooth, and I made sure to have all gear that I ABSOLUTELY NEEDED to do the ride WITH ME in my carry-on, just to be safe. I was at my gate when I got the message from Flora that my bike was in the bike shop in San Francisco being reassembled, and it was with great relief that I realized that at least one piece of the puzzle had fallen nicely into place. Later on I would learn from my Aunt Mary that the puzzle piece was a bit bent and worse for wear, though no permanent damage……….(the bike had not been boxed all that well and had been sent a day later than I had arranged, so there was some stress in getting it reassembled and some worries over whether all parts had made it, since a couple were scattered in the inside of the UPS truck………glad I missed all of that, and I’m so appreciative that Mary handled a lot of those important details for me). So I sat at the gate, drank a huge LATTE, and tried to pass the time. I was barely containing a HUGE MIX OF EMOTIONS.

All flights were on time, and my connection in Charlotte was smooth enough to allow me time to stop for a sub sandwich (airline food don’t exist no more). By Charlotte my emotions had settled down to what was a very high-energy calm. In San Francisco Mary was there to greet me just beyond the security checkpoint, and with her was a bundle of energy and excitement, her grandson, five-year-old Dylan. Let’s just say that at nearly midnight EST Dylan had more energy and much more to say than I did, but I managed to rise to the occasion. My checked bag arrived quickly, and inside it was a note from TSA to say that they’d had a good look at the contents. They must have quickly discovered that all of the unusual items had SOMETHING to do with biking and camping………...................

DAY 0

Saturday I awoke just after 5am and decided to go ahead and stay up. Why fight it when that’s when I’d have to be waking up all week? I’d just have to get used to the idea. Well, it’s official. THE RIDE finally entered my subconscious. DREAM SEQUENCE: Flora and I were ready to begin an 85-mile day. Glad she was riding, there in DREAMLAND. Only about 20 of us “serious” riders were lined up on the roadside, ready for the course to open. That’s when I realized I had no socks on, and my water bottles were completely empty. I watched as the other riders departed, and I was trying to make up for lost time but was moving OH-SO-SLOWLY. By the way, it was longtime colleague Mark Scarr who came to the roadside with a huge sign announcing that the route was open for the day. By the time I got back to the bikes only Flora and the sweep rider were waiting, and the sweep was riding a tandem bike by herself. Anyone care to interpret that??? Then David Atwood was in my ear saying, “Listen, we’re doing a little trail ride down by the river. Why don’t you and the kids join us?” I was trying to tell him no and to explain that we were doing THE RIDE, but I wasn’t getting any point across. Wait………THE KIDS??? We were now walking our bikes through a mall and down city sidewalks, and I was really frustrated that I couldn’t see any riders or route markers. I was bashing Flora because I KNEW it was her fault, whatever it was, and wasn’t SHE the one in charge of figuring out what the kids would be doing all day while we were riding??? It was then that I realized that even the sweep rider, the one in charge of being behind the last riders on any ride, had disappeared, and Flora was on the phone with our kids who, by the way, were about 30 feet behind us. THAT was when I chose to wake myself up. NERVOUS??? Must have been. Hopefully when the waiting was over then much of the nervousness would be too.

On to ORIENTATION. It seemed like forever before we were ready to head down to San Fran and the beautiful Cow Palace. Orientation was a ZOO, and I got my first taste of waiting in line after line after line. Mary, Kathy, and I saw the required safety video and were ready to do the tent assignment line when we realized that my cousin Frank and my uncle Dan had not yet arrived. Well, tentmates are required to get tent assignments TOGETHER, so the rest of the day was a bit of a mess as we tried to work around Frank and Dan’s delayed schedule. By the time they actually saw the safety video and missed most of the roadie meetings they were supposed to be attending it was late in the afternoon, and there were no more lines. There were also no more spaces in group camping with the Frogpuppies. Mary and Kathy were obviously frustrated with all of the waiting, as was I, but we kept pretty cool about the whole thing, for the most part. I did get to meet several other riders and friends of Kathy’s and Mary’s, and that was great. I also got to meet my cycle buddy, Russ Mendivil, and we exchanged the first of many hugs. His book, THE RIDE, was an inspiration to me, and I highly recommend it. We dropped our bikes at bike parking and returned there later to affix bike numbers to them, numbers our bikes would wear for the entire week. Mine was 3275, my rider number.

All the waiting did keep us in town late, and we were meeting the Frogpuppies for dinner in San Fran, so why not spend the whole day registering. THE RIDE has many “teams” within the larger 2500-cyclist body, and the Frogpuppies is one such. What a neat collection of people. Dinner at an Italian restaurant was PERFECT. Portions were MASSIVE, salads and appetizers delicious, and the 25 of us were just one of MANY large groups dining there. Many prom-goers, by the busload, inundated the place while we were there and as we were leaving. Then it was time to head back to Oakland to get gear ready and make sure everything needed for AM rideout was in a separate plastic bag. I had to decide to leave a few items in Oakland for the week, and I discovered that my sleeping bag would need to be outside and strapped to my gear bag if I was to have room for everything else inside it. Kathy got there a bit late and began to organize her stuff too, and we chatted a bit. Mary and Dan had dropped off to sleep about 9pm, but it was closer to 11 when I called it a day. I was surprised that I was able to fall asleep easily, and I am very happy I did.

DAY 1

Wake-up call was a bit over 5 hours later, at 4:30AM. We got out of the house okay after a quick breakfast, though waiting for the Vencill family does require patience. No problems with gear drop-off, though opening ceremonies were beginning as we did so. The ceremonies included a powerfully moving procession of Positive Pedalers, those riders and roadies living with HIV and AIDS, who marched in two by two and carrying banners with messages of love for those who have lost the battle with AIDS and have passed on. I was moved to tears for the first of many times during this week, especially when the last two in the procession wheeled in a riderless bike with a message attached to the handlebars referring to the angels in heaven watching over us. I thought of my dad then, as I would many times during the week. It turns out the riderless bike belongs to Ken Thomason, also known on THE RIDE as The Chicken Lady. Every year Ken wears outrageous chicken outfits all week, and he caps off his antics on the night of Day 6 by placing a plastic Easter egg on EVERY bike seat, all 2500 of them. The egg contains a message of encouragement and a life-saver. Ken’s bike was used in the procession because he’d be missing the ride this year after suffering a stroke about a month earlier. Rideout happened SO FAST, and somehow my gloves went missing, but that was my only minor mishap. Because one of our riders works for the San Francisco AIDS Foundation, we, the Frogpuppies, were given priority bike parking and were allowed to follow the Positive Pedalers as the second group out onto the streets of the city. Wow!!! What a crowd gathered there at 6:30 in the AM to see us off, cheering and waving posters and signs and high-fiving. Excitement was palpable. The rules about riding single file were out the window as we did our first few miles, and we exchanged light-hearted banter with all surrounding riders. I stuck with Frogpuppies through the first rest stop, which was a MADHOUSE, and Mary, Kathy, and I departed together. When we got to our first and only BIG climb, up to Skyline Drive and over the pass into Half Moon Bay, I lost Mary and Kathy. The climb was not bad…….just very long, but the DRUMMERS at the top and the first of many cheerleading groups atop big climbs were amazing. It’s incredible what a bit of LOUD drumming and cheering can do to the endorphins, the tiring muscles, and the flagging enthusiasm. The rest of the ride was relatively easy, and where were the fog and cold winds I’d been expecting? The redwoods over the pass were followed by the kind of coastal terrain and sunny views that only the most optimistic imagination could conjure. Really, when one hopes for all that the ride can offer, day one did not disappoint in any way. Going right down the coast with picturesque views, people bundled up for chilly beach walks, surfers, windsurfers, and sailboarders in wetsuits all filling the air and water with BRIGHT splashes of color, and EVERYWHERE riders, riders of all shapes, sizes, ages, and dispositions. At lunch I chatted with Jorge and Vivian, he a 1^st-time rider and she doing food services. He was such a positive man, in spite of the fact that he’d already had two flat tires that morning. I was amazed he was into lunch so early after those mishaps, and that was the first of MANY great conversations I had during the week. When I was done eating I waited for quite a while for Mary and Kathy and company, and it was a pleasant rather than impatient wait. I finally decided to do my own thing, and in many ways that is much easier to do. I did not feel as if I was pushing too hard, but I was fast and strong. At rest stop three, again I took a long time to get food and drink, socialize, listen to some great bagpipe music (yes, I DID just say great and bagpipe music in the same sentence), and do some journaling at a table overlooking the Pacific, some 100 feet below. I also hiked a ways down a trail toward the water, just to get some alone time, just me and the waves. In spite of all of this leisure and relaxed and pleasant waiting there was still no sign of Mary and Kathy, so after one more tour of the Hollywood-themed rest stop I was on my way. I did stop to explain the whole thing to someone who just happened to pull his car into this rest stop, and he was suitably impressed. One last funny incident before I left. Near the table where I wrote in my journal was a car occupied by two VERY SOUNDLY sleeping accidental tourists. Several riders went right up to their open car windows and posed for pictures next to these happily oblivious, mouths-AGAPE people. Some almost muffled giggles followed, and fortunately those folks never knew what hit them. What a great day. Camp at Santa Cruz was an experience. First time to gear trucks, first time to shower trucks, first time to dinner line, first time setting up tent on the grid, first evening announcements………we also got to meet Kathy’s boyfriend, John and his parents and chat with them as we showed them around camp. Neat people, and it turns out John and I have a few things in common, other than just a great first name. Early to bed, early to rise, early to ride…………..105 miles tomorrow after our 85-mile warm-up today………

DAY 2

Today was a long one. First time breaking down camp and trying to get on the road. Up at 5:00AM for breakfast, along with many others. I was ready to go at 6:30 but was going to try to ride with Mary and Kathy. I agreed to do yoga with Shokai at 6:30, and it was a lot of fun (Shokai calling us names and egging us on to greater contortions). He calls me Kentucky CUZ, and he gives great hugs, nothing held back, no barriers. By the time we left it was 7:30, and there was a traffic jam just leaving bike parking. For the next 90-plus minutes we tried to get out of Santa Cruz, but when you’re behind a couple of hundred other riders at a red light you may have to wait for the signal to change several times before getting through. Everyone handled it very well, and with great humor, but it did get very old. We even had time to do a sidetrip to Kathy’s house and still catch up to the same riders we’d left on the route. I knew we were in a bit of trouble when they announced at the first rest stop that they’d be closing it in 25 minutes. IF you’re at a rest stop when it closes they put you on a bus ALL the way to the next camp. NO WAY. I set off again with Mary and Kathy, but that’s when I made my decision to ride my own ride that day. I bypassed the famous fried artichoke stand and the free coffee party at the UGLY MUG, even though they both looked like great fun. I got waved past rest stop 2, told not to stop because they’d be closing in 15 minutes. So for the rest of the morning I rode very hard, trying to make up for lost time, and it worked out just fine. By the time I got to lunch I had a good cushion built up, and I could relax for the afternoon. I had lunch with Dan and Henry, Kathy’s friends, but made it a relatively quick one and stayed fast on the bike. Rest stop 3, at a vineyard, was great because bike techs were totally free to look at my gears (I was slipping gears in my middle ring, and it was, at the very least, inconvenient). Refreshed and with a freshly lubed chain I set off again. After a beautiful descent I came across a great scene. I rode across an old bridge, and about 50 feet below were a bunch of people having a nice swim. Now that I had the luxury of free time, I was down in that river in a heartbeat, and what a fine, cool soak it was. Quite the climb immediately following the swim, and it was on to REST STOP 4, hands down the most entertaining rest stop each day. I thought it would be tough to top their badminton theme of day one, but they did it. They held a beauty pageant, Miss ALC 7, with Miss Telemundo running away with the competition, complete with over-the-top diva histrionics. She defeated Miss Guantanamo Bay, who was wearing a sack over her head, and Miss Hollywood, a dominatrix, Miss Norph Dakotah, and Miss 18-to-Life. This was Runway Models Gone Wild. Oh, one stop I skipped mentioning was Mission Soledad. Burning Man tutu-ed FREAKS were out in the windswept parking lot, dancing to techno music, and out back through an old back door, 300 years old, was a completely different scene. At the front of the chapel, on the altar was a cloth banner, to be signed by ALC participants with messages to loved ones. I wrote a dedication to Hunter Platt and the words, “I love you, Dad,” and then I broke down in tears. A guy in the front pew noticed, the only other person in the chapel, and he told me that there were postcards in the back courtyard that we could write on, and the mission would send them for us and pay postage. I thanked him and wrote a quick love note to Flora and the kids, during which I lost it again. Then I went out into the parking lot chaos, had a couple of frozen Otter Pops, and was on my way once more. The crosswinds for the next 20 miles after rest stop 4 were spicy, to say the least, and I had to lean very hard to my left just to stay on the road. I did slow down long enough at one point to talk to Richard, at almost 82 the ride’s oldest rider. I wanted to let him know how impressed I was with what he was doing and to tell him that I hoped to be that active, or somewhere remotely close, 40 years from now. I told him my hat was off to him. He said that he didn’t even LIKE biking, that he was a former runner who hadn’t done this ride in seven years, and that he wasn’t sure what the heck he was doing out here. He said all of this in a humorous, self-deprecating way. He was also concerned because a mechanical failure and the slow exit from Santa Cruz meant that he had strong doubts about finishing the day without being sagged. When the talk turned to me and the fact that I was from Kentucky and had only been a rider for four months, Richard said, “Well then, my hat’s off to YOU.” I had to laugh, but I do appreciate how far I’ve come, both geographically and as a rider. The last 10 miles were at a close-to-effortless 30 mph as that crosswind became the world’s greatest tailwind. How nice that almost the entire last 10 miles of a 105-mile day were that quick and fun. I was cruising effortlessly up the climbs and spinning in my highest gear on all of the flats and downhills. I was passing people like they were standing still, and I felt very strong. Another guy caught me, and we rode the last few miles together. Whew. As it turns out, my fears about being bussed to camp were not unfounded, as several hundred riders had been forced to sag at rest stop 2. I’d like to avoid even the notion of something like that happening, so when I do the ride again I will definitely be getting out early on most days, and I will lobby hard for better AM group organization when we do choose to ride in a larger group.

DAY 3

Today was a piece of cake. With only 67 miles to do we could relax and not have to worry about making good time. I was glad to be able to take it slow and spend time with Mary, Kathy, and Kathy’s friend Henry. The big event for the AM hours was QUADBUSTER, the most infamous climb on the entire ride. After a short ride to rest stop 1, we began a gradual climb to the base of the big one, the perfect warm-up of a couple of miles. At the bottom I turned to Mary and Kathy and told them I’d see them at the top, and then I turned on the speed and power. I was confident going in, and I had every right to be. At some points we were 5 or 6 lanes of riders abreast, and I was always in the fastest lane. I passed many hundreds of riders on the way up, and while it was probably the toughest climb I’ve ever done in terms of its combination of length and severity, I beat it down and made it mine. At the top I waited and cheered on many riders as they made it up, including Kathy and Mary. What a great feeling. The town of Bradley, where we ate lunch, held special significance because Brad is the inspiration who got Kathy into this in the first place, and she’s the one who got all the rest of us into this. Brad was a coworker of Kathy’s about 10 years ago, and in his early 20’s he’d done two CAR’s (California AIDS Rides). just because. When he died tragically in a house fire, Kathy rode her first ALC in his honor, and the rest of us have followed her lead over the years. We stopped outside Bradley and took some photos under the highway sign and then tried to find some shade. It was a HOT one today. We skipped the fundraiser lunch for Bradley’s one-room school (36 kids in grades K-8), but I stopped long enough to donate $$$ anyway. Lunch in the shade of a nice tree was a happy lunch. At the end of lunch I received a very nice red lei from Frogpuppy sweep driver, Shelly, and I wore it proudly for the rest of the day. Roads today were some of the worst of the ride in terms of bumpiness, including a VERY unpleasant shoulder of very busy Highway 101. Good to have those in my past. Rest stop 4……..once again these guys outdid themselves with a salute to GREASE. Very attractive PINK LADIES, and a dance medley that was simply not to be believed. Greased Lightnin’ and some Summer Lovin’…. During the last few miles my Aunt Mary had a near miss as she lost concentration and her front tire hit some deep sand. The tire turned sideways about 30 degrees, but she had the presence of mind to instantly unclip the opposite foot and save herself without any fall at all. I’m so glad she was okay. We camped at a big fairgrounds, and I was pleasantly surprised that Cousin Frank had already fetched all of our gear and set up our tent. Shower and dinner lines were very short because the short mileage day allowed many people to get in early and get these things over with. Shade was a necessity, still, and the sunset was most welcome. I had to skip the roadie fashion show, and, from what I hear some VERY risqué costumery, but I was pretty tired. Feeling very good.

DAY 4

Today was spectacular. I made the decision to ride this day on my own, at my pace, and to get out early. The express line for breakfast helped a lot. Then I had my gear to the gear truck and was in bike parking and ready to ride by 6:15. I inflated my tires and got behind a couple of hundred other people waiting for the course to open at 6:30. An early start meant an easy, quick start with very little waiting. We warmed up on an old, bumpy bike path, over an old pedestrian bridge, and through some residential neighborhoods before it opened up a bit. I passed a bunch of riders and skipped the first rest stop because it was only 8 or 9 miles in. Next up were the Evil Twins (and their evil offspring, as there are really 5 climbs, two of them being MAJOR). Another rider and I went pretty hard up both climbs and reeled in a handful of other riders. Elevation at the top of the second twin was over 1700 feet, and there at the top of that last pass the winds were howling over the crest, right in our faces. It’s a testament to my good training that I was able to joke about those “lovely” headwinds with those riders around me. The reward was an awesome overlook on the left side of the road where a banner was hung that read HALFWAY TO LA. Well, this year we were pretty well over halfway, but the symbolic significance was powerful nonetheless. The reward for leaving early and riding hard was only ONE person in front of me “in line” to take a picture. I helped him get his bike up onto the boulder he was standing on. It was tough to stand there in biking shoes with winds gusting over 30mph and then trying to lift a bike overhead. I got a couple of pics snapped and then was on my way. The descent that followed was HAIRY, with sidewinds gusting fiercely and unpredictably. When the road approached a cut in the ridge to our right, the winds TORE through the gap. A woman about 100 feet in front of me was blown, in a split second, about 6 feet to the left, from the middle of the shoulder to the middle of the righthand traffic lane (fortunately no autos about). Thankfully she was a strong rider and was able to recover quickly. The rest of the descent, a 7-mile stretch dropping over 1500 feet was a fight for control with some occasional braking when my front wheel started wobbling in the gusty, swirling winds. White knuckles? You bet. I passed the woman near the bottom and told her I was glad she was okay and complimented her on how well she’d handled the descent. It turns out that later the HALFWAY TO LA banner and Ginger Brewlay’s wig were both blown off. Ginger managed to grab her wig, but the banner was lost to the winds. Ginger wears a different FABULOUS outfit each day, with a matching wig, and “she” is always at the tops of the biggest climbs cheering riders on. She is A FIXTURE on THE RIDE. I was concerned about Mary and Kathy, but they later told me that the winds were not a problem at all when they descended. Rest stop 2 was a beauty. We were back on the coast, and fog shrouded the road both to the north and south of us, but we were soaking up the sunshine and sea breezes. How unusual it was to be at rest stops with only 10 or 15 other riders. NO waits for ANYTHING, including restrooms and snacks and drinks. There was a bit of strutting going on, as if to say, “Well, aren’t WE here early……..” Lunch was on some athletic fields, again with only about 20 people, and I had some pleasant chats with a few fellow riders. Rest stops 3 and 4 included only about 5 riders each, so I chatted with the roadies and medical staff instead and had some fun with them. I rode 3 or 4 long stretches with one or two other riders and had great times with them too, taking turns at the front and sharing stories and our histories. In all cases we continued to push hard and reeled in other riders. Again, I was able to get right in to see a bike tech when my middle gears began acting up, and the little tweaking he did really helped. I rode from rest stop 3 to 4 with a guy on a fixed gear bike. It was a nice road bike, but fixed gear meant that he only had 4 gear choices to my 27, so his EASIEST climbing gear was WAY harder than mine, and his high end downhill gear would not give him near the power that mine would. Impressive extra challenge, indeed. He was very strong. When I arrived at camp after 98 miles it was only 2:30, and I was among the first 50 riders to finish. When he saw me in bike parking, Uncle Dan said, “So you finally took the governor off that bike, huh?” I felt great. No shower line, no massage line, no dinner line. Frank and I set up our tent and Mary and Kathy’s tent, and I drank over a gallon of fluids and relaxed. Another screaming tailwind to help us into camp too. What an awesome day, and how good it felt to be a very strong rider.

to be continued.........

Home Again, Home Again, Lickety Split

Fri, 13 Jun 2008 18:36:00 PST

My mom used to say that all the time when I was a wee tike, and I guess it stuck with me. Yep, I'm back home in central Kentucky, cutting the lawn, napping a lot, and still eating a ton. When's that eating gonna catch up with me, I wonder.

THE RIDE was a great success no matter which way one slices it. I was stronger than I thought I was, stronger than I needed to be, which was quite the luxury and meant I had a great deal of flexibility in how I approached the ride from day to day, or even from hour to hour. I met bunches of wonderful people and had a great time with my aunt, uncle, and cool cousins.

Following THE RIDE, I spent a couple of days in LA with my good friend, Alex Kimball and his wife and kids, and then I took a mellow train ride up the same coast I'd pedaled down (much of it following the same route). I had a couple of nice days in San Fran to unwind, continue with the massive sleeping and eating regime, sit by the pool, go out for a nice dinner with friends, Kathy Roth and Rick Maisel (some of you may have herd of them..........), get my gear organized for flight, disassemble and box my bike for shipping, and, finally, on the way to the airport, catch the first 8 innings of an A's-Yankees game from the comfort of my aunt and uncle's GREAT season tickets only seven rows behind the visitors' dugout. My cousin, Frank enjoyed the game immensely, as the A's took an 8-1 lead and cruised to a comfortable 8-4 victory.

All in all it was an incredible experience, and I do mean to repeat it in future years. It is SO nice to be back home with Flora and the kids, even with all of the real world responsibilities that come with that. Yes, summer camp is over, as all good things must end. I will report on it in detail very soon, when I can dig up the time and energy to turn my journal into a blog/ride report.

Thanks again to all who have supported me and the San Francisco AIDS Foundation. More soon. Dinner time.

love, john

Where's John?????

Tue, 03 Jun 2008 09:27:00 PST

I've taken the liberty of writing an update for you all in John's absense. John is keeping a journal and will write, at great length, I'm sure, when he is home. He continues to send his grateful thanks to all of you who put yourselves behind him and this cause. You're with him every mile of every day!!!! Believe me - he's feeling that! ~ Flora

This is an excerpt from a letter I wrote to family -

I don't know if any of you have been able to talk to John so I thought I'd send a little update. It seems his cell phone is rarely on (surprise?) and it's easier to call Kathy (his cousin) than him. We have managed to talk 3 times. His first call was from the first rest stop on day one (Sunday) - 20 miles into the ride. He was very emotional about the incredible opening ceremony and all the hopes and visions of this ride finally becoming a reality. The mass of 2500 riders was overwhelming, in a good way, and he and Kathy had already separated from Mary and the rest of the "frogpuppies" - his riding group. Because of some frogpuppy connections with the San Francisco Aids Foundation they were able to be the second group on the road from the Opening Ceremony. They followed the "positive peddlers" - all of whom are HIV positive, wearing shirts that read "I'M POSITIVE". He said the most moving part of the ceremony was the riderless bike brought on stage by the positive peddlers - bringing all to tears and reaffirming the commitment and motivation for the miles ahead...

Second conversation was from "camp" Sunday evening. John rode strong all day and got to camp relatively early. He got a shower and dinner by 4:30. When we spoke at 7:30 PST he was headed for dinner #2. He said the day was beautiful and the last 20 miles they had tailwinds of 20 MPH or so which just blew them along. I think he and Kathy rode all day together...

Third conversation was last night - end of the second and longest day of the ride- 105 miles. John sounded tired but jubilent. The morning was a bit rough as he and Kathy and Mary got off to a 7:30 start when he was ready at 6:30. We should all be proud that he sounded only a little perturbed about this - knowing his patience level. The early morning was spent riding through stop light after stop light to get out of Santa Cruz. He said we should imagine about 150 riders at each light! Because all of this took a lot of time he only had 25 minutes at the first rest stop. If you are at a rest stop when it closes you have to be picked up by a sag wagon and taken to camp! An incredible side wind blew him around for awhile - some riders were blown off the road- and when he got to rest stop #2 they flagged him through and told him to keep going as the rest stop would close in 15 minutes. At some point the road turned west and the wind was at his back again blowing him along at 25 MPH or so. I also heard about a wonderful swimming hole, and very, very funny entertainment at the rest stops later in the day. He broke off from Mary at rest stop one, and Kathy between rest stop one and two, so spent the day at his own pace talking to lots of amazing people along the way. For ten minutes he rode next to the oldest rider - 82 years young and going strong on a recumbent- and loved talking to him. Once at camp he got his gear from the truck, put his tent on his site, showered, ate, set his tent up, and then we talked. He hadn't seen Kathy or Mary yet and Frank appeared while we were on the phone and was exhausted from his day as a roadie! I'd say John was in excellent spirits - feeling very strong , definately tired, and looking forward to a shorter day (77 miles) today. By the way, the Kentucky hills have trained him well - California hills are longer but not so steep.

I'm HERE!!!

Sat, 31 May 2008 07:28:00 PST

Flights smooth, pickup at San Fran airport flawless, including the company of my cousin, Frank's 5-year-old son, Dylan, who had WAY more energy than I and had a great deal to say. Good sleep last night, and I woke up on my own at just after 5AM local time (good practice for the next week or so). My first RIDE nightmare last night, though not a bad one, and I was able to tell myself to wake up and simply end it.

Dream sequence: We're leaving camp for a day on THE RIDE when I discover that I'm not wearing riding socks. On my VERY SLOW way back to get them the other riders start their day. My colleague, Mark Scarr came out onto the roadside holding a BIG sign announcing that the course was open for the day. I mumbled under my breath about not being quite ready and regretfully watched the other riders leave, only about 20 of them. As I finally put on my socks I discovered that both water bottles were empty, so I had to fill those. Not sure if I ever did that. When I got back, the only riders left were Flora (so glad SHE was doing the ride, if we ever got started) and the sweep rider, a woman riding a tandem by herself. Can anyone help me interpret that part??? Next thing I know, we're walking through a mall and on city sidewalks, walking our bikes, and I'm getting more and more frustrated that we can't find other riders or the route. David Atwood appears by my side and tells me that he and all the kids are doing a trail ride down by the river, and did he mention the Grand Canyon? THE KIDS? I turn around and our 3 kids are about 30 feet behind us. I turned to Flora and said, "YOU didn't make arrangements for the kids for the day???"

It was then that I chose to wake myself up...................

Welcome to Day 0.

Oh, a big tear-jerker moment from yesterday's goodbye to the kids. Hannah came up and handed me 7 envelopes, one to open each day of the ride, and all 3 kids and Flora have written me a note a day. WELL, I TOTALLY LOST IT RIGHT THERE. I am so many times blessed.

love, john

PACKER

Thu, 29 May 2008 23:59:00 PST

I'm totally packed and ready to head to the airport after tomorrow morning's graduation ceremony at school. LOTS OF STUFF, and I'm carrying on everything I need to ride............just in case. This is all very exciting.

I did find out, for those of you looking for a during-the-ride blog that I had mentioned doing in an earlier mailing, that I will not be keeping a blog during the event. I WILL report on the ride afterward, in this forum. I will do my best to recreate much of the experience by consulting my EXTENSIVE notes and handwritten musings and observations, and maybe using a little creative liscense.

I am going to try to set up something below called GABCAST on which I may leave occasional voicemail blogs that you can access here on my page. We'll see if I pull it off. In any case, thanks SO MUCH to all who have supported me, my cousin Kathy, my aunt Mary, and the AIDS/LIFECYCLE cause. The messages of support and contributions mean so much and will help energize me as I head south.

Love to all, john

PS: You can leave messages for me by going to: http://experience.aidslifecycle.org/2008/support/

THE WAITING IS THE HARDEST PART

Wed, 28 May 2008 22:45:00 PST

Bike's in a box, on its way WEST. Report cards are written, edited, re-edited, printed, copied, collated, filed, and put into mailing envelopes. Supplies are ordered for next year's 4th grade campaign. My gear, or what I've managed to gather so far, what I hope is almost everything, is in the "staging area," behind closed doors, kept safe from the fool dog who chews through EVERYTHING, in the parlor. I'm obsessing over details, though not panicking. I'd say more like manicking.

I fly Friday, and I'll get to see my aunt and uncle, and hopefully my bike and my luggage. Saturday is orientation--bike parking, required safety video, wrist band receiving, and then meeting a few handfuls of my fellow riders. My aunt has invited me to join a family within this larger family, a team called the Frogpuppies (long story). Many of them say, "Arfbit," but I prefer, "Ribarf." Definitely a more evocative sound effect. Many of us, meaning the Frogpuppies, will be dining together Saturday night, laughing through our nervous energy, supporting one another, knowing that very few of us will be able to sleep all that well that night.

We'll be together again for opening ceremonies and ride-out beginning at just after 5AM Sunday. Have I mentioned that I am NOT a morning person? I DO have the blessing of being accustomed to Eastern Standard Time, so 5AM in San Francisco will be like my 8AM, but that's not too much consolation. Sunday night we'll be in Santa Cruz, some 85 miles south, tents pitched, camp ABUZZ with first-night excitement.

The waiting IS the hardest part....................

Love, john

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DAD

Mon, 26 May 2008 17:35:00 PST

My dad would be 69 years young today if he hadn't died an untimely death 27 years ago. Because so many associated with this ride have suffered similarly painful losses, because this disease creates losses like this every minute of every day and has done so for decades, and because I LOVE my dad I choose to honor him here on my homepage. If he were alive today, I KNOW he'd be packing his bags and heading to California this weekend to be one of the ride's oldest riders, though younger than THE oldest by just over a decade.

My dad was a lot of fun, and he was one of my best friends. I can only imagine how close we'd be now, but I know it would be extremely. I so wish he knew my wife and my kids and that he were a part of their lives.

So, I ride to raise awareness, to raise money, to raise hopes, to improve myself in many ways, to connect with my dad's baby sister and her family, to make new friends, to accomplish something physically-mentally-emotionally challenging, to help show others that anyone can set goals and attain them and help others, and finally, I ride for my dad.

Lots of love, john

HORSEY 100

Sun, 25 May 2008 12:00:00 PST

Play "Rocky" theme song in the background...........imagine him hitting the top of those steps in Philadelphia............well, yesterday was a lot like that. The Horsey 100 is a HUGE annual event staged out of Georgetown, KY, about 45 minutes from my home. I set my alarm for 6AM, on a SATURDAY (sigh) and was over at my friend, Wes's house by 6:30. It helped a lot that I had all of my bags packed the night before, as I am NOT a morning person. We had a pleasant ride over to Georgetown, as the excitement built and the cobwebs cleared. Our early arrival meant no lines for registration, and I got a BEAUTIFUL new cycling jersey, my first COOL one. It's a Bluegrass Cycling Club jersey, and I'm excited to wear it in California next week. KENTUCKIANS......REPRESENT!

By a little after 7:30 we were ready to ride, and we hooked up with another neighbor, Lee, who was kind enough to help me strap my new toolkit to the underside of my seat. He asked if he could ride out of town with us and told us he'd hang on as long as he could but that he was MUCH slower than we were. I reassured him that we'd be taking it easy, with a 100-plus-mile day in mind. We had thought it was an 8AM start time, but Lee informed us that century riders were allowed to start at 7:45, so very suddenly it was time to leave. We rode out of Georgetown on one of the main drags, and we started kinda easy, warming up and waking up. We had a good, steady climb after a mile or so, and when Wes and I stopped at a red light I was very surprised not to see Lee. "What happened?" I asked. Wes replied that Lee had already dropped off our pace. From there we picked it up quite a bit, and the first 12 miles was a breeze. Beautiful, clear morning, and it was nice and cool. I wore none of the extra gear I'd brought, just my new, COOL jersey, and I was glad of that as the day warmed up.

We stopped at the first rest stop in Midway for a quick snack and bathroom break and to refill a water bottle. The next 12 miles was as easy as the first, and all of it was on my regular training route, so it was comfortable in its predictability too. Now that I'm such an EXPERIENCED rider, this being my second organized event, I was not surprised that for long stretches it was just me and Wes, with no other riders in sight. We seem to ride at a pace where no other riders catch and pass us and where we don't catch too many others either. Eventually we did catch an older man, obviously a strong older man, around 60 or so, and we fell in together. Turns out he was from Canada, near Toronto, so he and Wes talked Stanley Cup Hockey for a while. I got around to remarking that it must be tough riding when you only have 4 months or so of riding weather, and his reply was, "Yeah, so when you can go, you go HARD." Good philosophy, I thought. He said he'd "only" logged about 600 training miles this Spring, but he was attempting the 104-mile route. He stopped at the second rest stop, in Millville, about 25 miles in and JUST before a series of fairly big climbs, and we said goodbye as we kept riding. I said to Wes a couple of times that I hoped we weren't going out too hot, that we needed to save strength for the last half of the ride, so we kept that in mind. Now, we were still on my training route, though going the opposite direction I usually travel. I knew that at the top of a couple of good-sized climbs that we'd have the THRILLING descent of THE HILL, and I looked forward to that. The 90-degree turns at the top, in the steepest section, were well marked with several warning signs to control speed, but a rider ahead of us had not done quite well enough with that. He was fine when we got there, and I'm not sure he even went down when he did crash. No signs of blood. What he was trying to do was straighten the front wheel of his bike, which he had tacoed, probably by slamming straight into the guard rail. Glad he was okay.

After the 40-mph descent of the straightaway on THE HILL we had the mile and a half climb out of Clifton, a long but steady climb that it's fairly easy to power through. The next 10 miles, down down down into Griers Creek hollow and back up up up out of it, was all familiar territory, still my regular training route, but then we were in uncharted territory for the next 20 miles. This was when Wes clearly started to run out of gas. The rolling hills, steady headwinds, and good-sized climbs were really getting to him, and he started to mention possibly cutting his day short and doing the 77-mile option. The great design of the ride allowed for ALL riders to meet at the same place for lunch and to leave going in the same direction, so anyone KNOWING that 104 miles may mean trouble could bow out just a mile or two past lunch and choose the 77-mile option instead. One BUMMER was missing the rest stop at mile 45, a rest stop I didn't really need, but Wes really DID need. So we had to retrace a mile and a half and then go half a mile out of our way to the rest stop. At least it was at beautiful, historic Jack Jouette House. I'll have to go back and see the inside sometime. When we got there the woman cheered because we were her first visitors. The few riders ahead of us must have decided not to go out of their way for it, with lunch being only 15 miles further on, and there weren't all that many riders ahead of us. Once we got there, I was pleased to be there and refill water and gatorade and have some very good snacks. A large group got there 5 minutes after we did, and they were giving one of their number a good-natured ribbing because they'd missed the turn down into the Griers Creek hollow and had not discovered their error until MILES further on when they arrived in downtown Versailles. Fortunately, the maps were very good, so they were able to leave Versailles by another road and ride straight out to our rest stop. Their mileage was almost exactly the same, so they weren't too disappointed. As they continued to give the lead rider a hard time, the one who missed the turn, I held my tongue and didn't say, "Well, you were all DUMB enough to blindly follow him." I also refrained from telling them that while they may have done the same number of miles they had done A LOT less climbing.

Wes felt much better after the rest, but he confirmed his plan to cut his ride short, and he was clearly laboring during the last 15 miles to lunch. The winds had "freshened" by then, so it was tough going. The benefit was I learned MUCH more about the lay of the land surrounding the south side of Versailles, so my training options have increased exponentially. I was SO HAPPY to ride into Keeneland Race Track for our lunch. The crowds weren't bad, so we quickly got all that we needed and headed for a table in the shade, right outside the barns where race horses are stabled during racing season. We had a pleasant visit with another Canadian and a couple from Indiana, all of them in their late 50's, at least. The man from Indiana was a BIG talker, and I didn't mind spacing out and listening for a while. ALL of them remarked on how VERY lucky we are to live in this area and have such amazing riding available at the drop of a hat. I agree. Toward the end of lunch I saw the parent of former 4th grade student, Adam Trontz, who is now headed off to college. Liz is a former triathlete and was a great parent to work with. We chatted a bit, and she wished me well in my adventures.

The first mile out from lunch we were just behind a group of 15-20 racers, all wearing matching Pedal the Planet jerseys. They were clearly in relaxed mode, as were we all after an extended break and food. Just before we split off, Wes said, "Why don't you try to hang on with these guys for a while?" I laughed and said I didn't think it was in my best interests, with 40 miles to go. Wes and I said our goodbyes, and I was on my own. From this point forward the only riders I'd see were riders intending to do what I was doing, over 100 miles. For the first five miles I did follow the racing pack, right at the back of it. There was a certain arrogance and testosterone ambience that I do not miss in my day to day life, but one I remember clearly from my days of playing high-level Ultimate Frisbee (one I was, occasionally, guilty of displaying). They were NOT sharing the road with vehicles attempting to pass, though those were few, but even more so with other riders who were clearly NOT in the same league as these guys. A case in point was when we made a hard right turn and began climbing a pretty good-sized hill. Riders still on their way TO lunch were coming down this hill at a pretty good clip, and they had almost no room to get around the pack of racers. One older man bellowed at them to share the road, and he was right. After he passed one rider mocked his outrage and continued sarcastically, "RACERS!!!" I was not pleased. In short order they increased their pace and rode off into the distance, and for the next 15 miles I was ALONE.

How strange to be on one of the biggest rides in the region, with riders from all over the midwest and southeast and to be on a road I've ridden many times, alone again. The fact that I was over 65 miles in, with close to 40 left to go made matters even more difficult, mentally, though I felt very good physically. Again, for almost all of those 15 miles I was on roads I'd ridden at least once, so familiarity gave me some measure of comfort, and the solitude wasn't too bad. It's what I'm used to, after all. Still, with such a monumental task at hand, solitude can be disquieting, like being the last human alive, especially being on roads so rural that not a single car passed.............

BLESSED REST STOP! 82 miles in was the world's most beautiful rest stop. Reason number one was, HUMAN BEINGS, lots of them, including the racing team (I guess I hadn't lost too much time to them in that 15 miles). The other aspect of the beauty was the setting. I pulled off at the FIRST rest stop sign, only to discover that the rest stop was on the other side of the stream. All I had was porto-potties, but that was nice too. To get to the food and drink I walked my bike over the stream, inside a GORGEOUS old covered-bridge. What a bonus. Some stretching, drinking, eating, chatting, and then I saw a couple of guys looking at their map. "Only" 23 miles to go. Home stretch. Smelling the barn. Well, I was fortunate enough that 6 or 7 guys were ready to leave about the same time I was, so I fell in at the back of their pack. I was not part of it for the first couple of miles, and it took me a while to warm up, but soon enough I passed and said hello to a couple of the guys. On one climb I passed the entire pack and found myself leading it. When I looked back after a mile or so I discovered that our numbers were now 3, as we'd dropped 4 riders. And that was the way it stayed for most of the next 20 miles, all the way back to the car. Drafting behind one, two, or three other riders is a HUGE relief, especially after so many miles. I wasn't satisfied to do only that though. When we turned from a busier road to a quieter one I pulled alongside the other two riders and thanked them for letting me jump aboard. They said that that's the way it should be. I told them about the long stretch after lunch on my own and remarked how much company helps to fuel the fires and keep the motivation strong, and then I hopped to the front and did my turn pulling the group along. Well, thanks to some Espresso GU, I was feeling pretty good, so we were flying. We caught a lone rider and passed him like he was standing still. He was impressive though in that he hung on and passed us on every uphill, standing strong up out of his saddle. I envied his uphill strength.

In any case, now our group numbered 4, and I continued to take my share of turns in front and setting what felt like a good pace. During the last few miles one other rider and I began to fade a bit, and the stronger two left us about a quarter mile behind. All of us had been trying to catch another rider further ahead, and we closed the gaps pretty well on the uphills, but he reopened them on the flats and downhills. Big, tall guy on a big, tall bike. None of us ever did catch him. I had to swallow my pride and let the first two of our group go. Nothing else I could do about it, really. Finally the two of us remaining cycled into downtown Georgetown. Busy traffic, people in a hurry to pass and get places. 'Don't they know what we've been through?' I wondered, already knowing the obvious answer. Big crowds at the athletic fields watching kids play baseball, bustling historic downtown, and finally, the entrance to Georgetown College. PHEW. I was elated. During the last half mile or so I talked to the other rider. He and his buddy were down from Michigan. I told him this was my second century, EVER, and that I'd been riding for 4 months, in my life. He told me it had been a pleasure, and he thanked me for taking such long turns in the front during those last 20 miles. Yea!

Getting OFF the bike was........interesting. A bit wobbly, but okay. Spacey, but okay. Walking funny, but okay. I threw the bike on the rack and got my clothes and towel for the showers, and right then Wes walked up. He said, "I knew you'd be in around 3:00. I finished at 1:30, and I figured the extra 25 miles or so would take you about an hour and a half more." That included the stop at the rest stop too, so we must have really been moving during the last 23 miles. I discovered something funky about my bike computer, too. It said that my 108-mile day was only 92 miles, so I need to look into how and why it's LYING to me and/or how to recalibrate it. One aspect of the computer that IS accurate is the amount of time ridden. The whole day had been 7 hours and 20 minutes, and time pedaling and moving forward was just over 6 hours of that time. Since I'm such a math whiz I quickly figured that my average speed was 18mph, and I KNOW it was quicker than that during the last section.

Another BEST SHOWER EVER, more drinks, snacks, more drinks, more drinks, and we were on our way to Lexington to meet a friend of Wes's at Pazzo's Pizza, a place with superb food and 30 or more delicious brews on tap. 3 or 4 glasses of water and a couple of beers later, the pizza arrived, and we devoured it. Wes's friend, Ed, is a Detroit native and is one of the funniest individuals I've been around. I shook his hand and said hello when he arrived, and he said, "I KNOW YOU! You and I sang Zippety-Do-Da to that obnoxious Russian guy at Wes's party." "OH YEAH," I replied. The Russian had been extolling the virtues of Russian CULTURE and dumping on everything American when I broke into spontaneous Zippety-Do-Da, and Ed joined in. We showed that Russian what America's really all about, like the Miracle on Ice at the 1980 Olympics. For the rest of the meal we made references to that event, and I had tears running down my face from all the laughter. I said, "Ed, you're EXACTLY what I needed after a 108-mile day, and he replied, in his best Mafioso voice, "Now THAT'S what I'm talkin' bout."

So, that's it. Last big ride before THE RIDE. In about an hour I'm bringing my bike to the shop to be boxed and shipped. Then Sanders and I will do our first mt. biking of the season, and you KNOW I'll be taking it easy out there. Still much shopping and packing to do, besides responsibilities for work, like writing report cards. OH MY!!! SOOOOOOOOOON...................

Much love, john