AIDS Lifecycle ...reflections on an experience of a lifetime.

Like others, the AIDS/HIV pandemic has hit close to home.  Over the years, I have had friends who were taken much too soon by the ravages of this dreaded disease.  I looked for a way to honor their memory and celebrate those who courageously struggle with this disease and embrace life each and every day.  I participated in the Lifecycle event for the first time in June of 2004. 

Below is an excerpt of a letter I wrote to those generous souls who sponsored me for my first time riding in the AIDS Lifecycle event.  It captures my impressions and reflections of this life-changing experience. 

Leading up to the big event, people kept telling me that it would be an experience of a lifetime.  Being a skeptical person, I thought that they were exaggerating.  I’m here to tell you, they were not.  The whole experience was awesome.

I’m not even sure where to begin.  From the opening ceremonies on Day 1, I found myself feeling overwhelmed by my own nervousness, wondering how I would hold up after seven full days of cycling.  The atmosphere of the opening ceremonies was an odd mixture solemnity and frivolity.  I must admit I was barely awake when we met at an outdoor stadium at the University of San Francisco at 5:30 am.  I was immediately struck by the sheer numbers of people, from the roadies to the cyclists.  One of the speakers told us that there were about 1270 cyclists and 480 roadies (from thirty nine states and six countries) who would be participating in the week long event.  We listened to speakers who had been touched by the disease and who had made promises to loved ones to continue to participate in the event until a cure was found.  Then we set out.  Nothing could have prepared me for the feeling of exhilaration as I rode out of the stadium.  People lined the street cheering us on as we departed.  I must admit I felt a bit teary.  I felt like I was part of something big and important. 

AIDS Lifecycle is part carnival, part drag show, part costume party on bicycle wheels.  In contrast to the life threatening disease that motivated us to participate, the event was one of the most life affirming endeavors I have ever been a part of.  I found true inspiration in those around me.  Watching one of my fellow cyclists, a double amputee who had no legs, pedal his bike using his hands and arms; the townspeople who came out to cheer us on and bring us water or goodies; Ginger Brewlay, a drag queen who dressed in fabulous outfits each day and handed out candy at the top of the steepest climbs – I came away with the clear sense that I was witnessing the best of humanity.   All of them have been touched by this disease, in some way or another -- either personally or through a loved one.  They surrounded me and supported me through the biggest physical challenge of my life.

Along the route, especially during the tough parts – the steep climbs – there were people who encouraged us to push beyond our limits.   Other riders would stop on the side of the road and clap or yell, “You’re almost there!” or “You made it”!  One group of women had a megaphone connected to an iPod.  They would pull over and play the theme from “Rocky” or dance tunes that gave everyone a much needed boost.  “Mom and Dad”, a couple from Ventura whose son was riding in the event, parked their car on the side of the road and banged on a drum and clapped and cheered for riders as they passe.

On the third day, we climbed one of the more brutal hills known as “The Quadbuster”.  It is a relatively short, but steep climb; you ascend about 1200+ feet over the course of one mile.  As riders made their way to the top, some stopped to catch their breath, while others pushed on, slogging their way up.  Still others walked their bikes up to the summit.  Stronger riders climbed easily, but rather than simply riding on, they rode back down to the bottom of the hill and literally would help push other struggling riders up to the top by grabbing the back of the bicycle seats (or their backs) and riding along side them.  When we reached the top, we were greeted by Ginger, dressed in a black evening gown and heels.  She handed out candy and said, “Good job, sweetie!”  All of these cheerleaders definitely gave me inspiration to get through the most grueling parts of the ride. 

Sometimes inspiration came in the form of unlikely people like “The Chicken Lady.”  Now, during opening ceremonies, a group of cyclists walked the bike that the Chicken Lady retired at the end of last year’s ride.  They resembled pallbearers carrying a casket.  On Day One, I didn’t know who the Chicken Lady was.  Tears came to my eyes as I imagined her to be an older woman, one of the cyclist who perhaps died over the course of the last year or whose failing health prevented her from participating this year. 

It wasn’t until Day 2 that I found out the real story.  Apparently, the Chicken Lady is a fifty something year old man who works as a flight attendant for United Airlines.  He has ridden on the AIDS ride in its various incarnations for many years.  He can easily be picked out of the crowd – he rides in a multi-colored skirt, bright pink wind breaker, silvery leg warmers, a helmet with a little plastic chicken glued to the top and stunning disco ball earring that dangle from his ears.  At the end of last year’s ride, the cyclists all chipped in donations to get the lady a new bike.  They raised $2,700.  With their money in hand, a group approached the Trek Bike Company technicians (who work as technical support for the ride) to get a new bike.  The Trek folks insisted on doing one better.  They offered to make a custom bike and give it to the Chicken Lady free of charge.  Along the top tube of her bike, they painted a little personalized inscription that reads simply, “The Chicken Lady – Poultry in Motion.”  She got a new bike and took the money that was raised and donated to the AIDS Lifecycle 3.

On the last morning, as riders went out to their bikes, they found a small plastic egg on their seats.  Inside the egg was a short poem written by the Chicken Lady encouraging them to come back next year.  You can imagine how long it took to fill about 1270 eggs.  Apparently, the Chicken Lady with the help of his fellow flight attendants filled each of the eggs during those long flights to Costa Rica.  Along the route, his positive attitude and love of life spurred his fellow riders on.  I am truly glad that I had the chance to spend some time with the Chicken Lady. 

The roadies really are the backbone of this event.  Throughout the event, the roadies nourished our bodies and our spirits.  They do everything from moving gear to making food to handing out lunches and snacks at the rest stops to riding endless miles up and down the route ensuring the safety of the riders.  This whole support system is orchestrated by super heroes on the logistics crew who, literally and figuratively, kept the wheels in motion by coordinating every aspect of providing housing, food, and medical care for over 1600 people in a seemingly effortless way. 

The rest stop volunteers doled out scrumptious snacks and water and provided lots of encouragement and entertainment that kept the riders going.  Each day along the route, there were four different rest stops.  At each stop, the volunteers dressed in costumes and decorated the tables and port-o-potties according to a particular theme.  We romped with the Brady Bunch; played games with 80’s video game characters (yes, Mario and the crew made an appearance); boarded The Love Boat; were chased by Pirates; and walked the Hollywood Red Carpet.

Perhaps, the most memorable was Rest Stop #4.  After a long day of riding, fatigue begins to set in.  In my humble opinion, these folks provided the most fun and entertainment at a critical point of each day.  I found that every day I looked forward to seeing what they would do next.   Approaching Rest Stop #4, a series of four signs they would offer clues about what riders could expect.  On the first day, they dressed as the Solid Gold Dancers (complete with gold lame dresses and blaring disco music); another day each of them dressed up as Richard Simmons (think: afro wigs, colorful tank tops and striped shorts).  The Richards jumped and squealed and said things like, “You are perfect – just the way you are!!”  At the rest stop that day they led riders through a series of exercises Simmons style (lots of bouncing and clapping).  As riders approached the rest stop on that particular day, the Dalmatians hid in bushes until we got right up on the rest stop, then they would run up to our bikes, yapping at our heels.  (I must admit I was taken by surprise and narrowly avoided a minor collision….all in good fun, I suppose).

The Sweep Team deserves kudos for their hard work that got us from point A to point B safely.  They rode up and down the route all day long making sure every rider made it to camp at the end of each day in one piece.   Although this was a fun-filled event, cycling does bring its share of dangers.  We had several incidents of riders who were hit by vehicles or fell off their bikes on particularly harrowing stretches of the route.  The “Sweeps” had a huge responsibility in responding to these situations and making sure that riders were taken care of.   On the last day of the ride, a woman hit a bump and was knocked off her bike along Pacific Coast Highway near Malibu -- parked cars lined the street on her right and cars zoomed by on her left.  As I rode upon the scene, I saw Vanessa down on the ground next to the woman mobilizing her arm and trying to comfort her until paramedics arrived.  Her Sweep partner, Neil, directed cyclists to slow down and keep moving to avoid a traffic bottleneck.  Their ability to respond to these dangerous situations was truly remarkable.  Incidents like these demonstrate the tough job these folks had throughout the ride.

When they weren’t responding to the dangers of the road, the Sweeps gave everyone a morale boost with their cheering.  Each of the vehicles was decorated.  The most outlandish was “Team Mary” – a blue mini-SUV with six pink flamingoes on top (I am not kidding)…the thumping of the techno beat blaring from their stereo could be heard from miles away.  On the vehicle windows, the Sweep team members wrote inspirational messages that ranged from the supportive, “Go Riders!”  to the very practical reminders to stay hydrated,  “Drink H₂O+Pee = No I.V.”.  All along the route, they cheered with pom poms.  My heart always soared whenever I caught a glimpse of Sweep Team #3, Vanessa and her buddy Neil riding by in her white truck, cheering me on.   It really gave me the feeling that I wasn’t alone in this endeavor.  Although I never had to be “swept” to the next stop, their presence was very comforting to me.  Because Vanessa worked on this team, I got a chance to get to know the Sweep crew better than if I had just been one of the other riders.  Together, they were an incredibly fun and committed group of people.  I am glad that I had the opportunity to get to know them...

A video segment that captures the incredible spirit of the event in ways my words do not begin to do justice. 




If you or someone you know is interested in riding or volunteering on the AIDS Lifecycle event, you can find more information on the organization's website: http://www.aidslifecycle.org/