Day 3 - King City to Paso Robles

On the third day I began to get my groove.
I got myself, dressed, fed, stretched and ankle taped by 6:40...
Although not the clearest scan - above is the hill profile for the day...the area marked as 1. is a hill known as "Quadbuster."
From this photo, you can get a sense of how long and steep the hill was.

Day 3 was filled with me loving my bike, loving cycling and loving the AIDS ride. I was really pushing the limits of what my bike and body could do...and loved being out in front with the early rising riders. I only counted about 5 of us with time-trial bikes...and in my mind I started a kind of club with all of us crazy aero-riding cyclists as members.

I became more and more comfortable in aero-position, and found, to my delight, that different muscles in hamstrings kicked in, allowing my quads to rest briefly. We stopped for lunch in the little town of Bradley, where the local school had a fundraising BBQ, and cheered us as we arrived.

Getting the early start made all the difference. I was so much more relaxed, and was able to enjoy the people and the space around me. I had some good chats with other riders about bikes, and gear and speed and the cleansing nature of the AIDS Lifecycle...how one guy found that every year he did the ride he felt cleansed, and ready to start the year fresh - how I hear a lot of people describe Burning Man.

Rest stop 4 was only 12 miles away at Mission San Miguel...the boys were already camping it up with a production of "Greased LIghtening" number from Grease....

I had a nice chat with one of the "pink ladies" about how hard they work at the rest stops, and how much I appreciated it...he said that we were the ones that worked hard...we ended up agreeing that ideally we get to do what we are best suited to doing - I can sit on my bike and ride, no problem, but setting up and breaking down and being "on" all day would likely kill me.


Although I'd imagine I could ham it up in a Pink Ladies performance piece until the cows came home.

There was no reason to rush the 11 miles to the Paso Robles Fairgrounds - it would be too early for camp services to even be open...so I lounged about at the lovely mission drinking powerade and enjoying the day.

Once at the fairgrounds, bike parking was wide open - one of the volunteers said "Ok everyone, line up I have something for you...he then handed us a little card.Saying that one of the riders was a 4th grade teacher and her students had made them for us. I started to feel my eyes involuntarily moisten.

One beautiful black cyclist walked away from the line, and the volunteer nearly yelled at him"Hey, take one of these, they are FROM THE CHILDEREN! He replied, "I know they are from the childeren, if I take one of those I am going to cry, and I don't feel like crying right now.

Day 2 - Santa Cruz to King City

Day 2 would be another lesson in patience and kindness The riding was beautiful, and although I got a late start, by lunch I had passed a good portion of the riders, and left the claustrophobic feeling of navigating through Santa Cruz in rush hour.Note the long relentless line of cyclists.


About 35 miles in - my first flat. It had to happen sooner or later - I have been lucky, in the over 2000 miles I have put on my bike, I have never gotten a flat. How could that be? Fortunately I was ready with a spare tube that I keep tucked under my seat, and I have practiced the change-out...it would have been a two minute job, except for the ingenious system they have; when you are stopped by the side of the road, and you need assistance, you let the other riders and road crew know by holding out a "thumb's down." Fair enough - however, when you are in good shape, you also need to signal that by showing "thumb's up." Trying to change a tire with your thumb up is difficult. I mean, really, why take away our gift of opposable digit? And people want to help... "Thank you I'm fine! Thank you I'm fine" COuld be worse...

Lunch at a park in Salinas - I ran into an aquantance from home, and my tent-mate, who was starting to stress out about her overstressed tendons...bemoaning the fact that she had to be sagged in...
>Lunch at a park in Salinas
I started the ride with one person that I knew through my greater circle of Burning Man friends. He had so far been very nice to me, what with checking in with me, and sort of explaining things, but it became apparent when I ran into him at lunch that we were not ideal ride buddies. He had a very laid back attitude...slept a little longer, lingered over breakfast a little longer...while at times I wish I could be that kind of person - I am just not. I am more of the "lets hurry up and get there so that we can relax" variety - rather than the "lets relax along the journey."

I never really think of myself as competitive, mostly, because I don't usually "win"...but I still kind of have that drive - useless as it may be.

I hit the road, and two miles out, tire feels weird...I pull over, and "POP!"...I take the assistance of a passing cyclist, 'cause, why not....we get the wheel off, the tire off, and see that the tire has separated from the bead...oh, that's bad. But I have an extra tire! Oh, its in my backpack, on the gear truck....sigh.The yellow text says "right here, under the rim, the "bead" separated from the tire. Duct tape wouldn't fix it.


That's Ok - I am only two miles away from lunch, where the fully stocked bicycle mechanics are waiting to help us with all our bike problems.
I started to roll back to lunch when the sweep van came by and swept me up.

Back at the mechanic's tent, I was given the inevitable news - that they were all out of 650 tires. Was I going to have to be sagged? On my first century? Nooooooo! Long story short, the angels at Mike's Bike's drove to a local bike shop and bought a new tire and tube for me. I did not have enough cash on me, so they took an IOU.

I was going to get back on the road...the challenge though, was that waiting for the gear and change out, made me the VERY LAST PERSON TO LEAVE LUNCH. In fact, anyone that that wasn't waiting for their bike to be fixed was sagged....

Woah. OK. Last. That's OK...

The thing is, that I totally respect the people that are not cyclists, and have worked so hard to get into shape and are slow...riding that many miles, no matter how fast or slow is a major accomplishment. I have heard that those folks are much more satisfying for personal trainers to work with, because their progress is so measureable. I have been one of those people. My triathlon coach said I was his favorite, 'cause I tried so hard...and it seemed to me I was just way to slow to be with the group.

But I wasn't one of those people any more - and the people cheering me on, the last person, they thought I was. Who cares? Why did I feel like stopping and explaining that I had technical difficulties? That I was NOT slow? Ego - ego -ego- Hello that is so not what this ride is about.
I had 65 more miles to think about that - and had a wonderful day getting back to camp. At Rest stop 3, Jim's stop - they had a much tighter "casbah" theme than the day before. I ran into a very old friend from years back and we had fun racing past each other on the way to rest stop 4...where they were in the midst of a "Miss AIDS lifecycle 7" pageant.
I also ran into my old friend Troy Dean
Whom I hadn't seen in years, and who would become my touchstone on the ride.

I was pretty elated when I got into King City...as many miles as I have ridden, I had never before hit the 100 mile mark. Pretty cool.

Day 1

I was anxious to get started, and I felt like it was an exercise in "hurry up and wait." Fortunately, I had faith that it would not be 545 miles of clusterfuck.
By the time I made it to Nueva School, about 20 miles in, I was a little wound up. I glanced in at the lines for snacks, and decided to beat it to the next rest stop...

This turned out to be a brilliant idea. It put me ahead of over 1000 riders, and my feeling of claustrophobia lifted and I was able to start really enjoying the ride.
It was interesting to hear people around me really complaining about the hills...I found out later that 26 people had to be "sagged" (swept up in the support vehicle) from the first rest stop. Not that surprising that some folks would underestimate the magnitude of the venture...but within the first 20 miles?

From Skyline to 92 up and over the hill to Half Moon Bay...angels cheered us on and handed us Redvines as we rode...

At San Gregorio beach was our first rest stop...sandwiches by the sea...Then Rest stop 3 - where I knew my oldest friend Jim would be staffing...(unfortunately, no photo) their theme was a little loose - he was wearing a gold curtain and an olive wreath a la Caesar...but as far as I could see, no one else's costume really matched.


Rest stop 4 had a pretty tight show:
They were soon to be legendary...every day, a new and tight theme, sometimes involving performances (more to come.) Day one was a country club setting complete with a badminton court, and cute outfits, and lots of attitude.

I was really enjoying the ride, and got into Santa Cruz at about 2:45. Every day the camps were set up with clock work precision. Our bike numbers had bar codes which were then scanned...they knew whose bikes were in or out...Here the bike parking is still mostly empty.

After parking my next job was to huff it over to the gear trucks. (My stuff was always in the F truck)Then...hike it over to my spot on the "Tent Grid" it was always pre-marked, and I was always in spot F54. Generally, I was in before my tent-mate, so I would set up the tent, and she would tear it down the next day.

My tent mate was a super-sweet 28 year old from Santa Rosa. We met on-line, on a sort of personal ad site for peeps without tent mates. She was great...I was generally much happier when she was around, although she did make me feel my age. 28 is not at all like 38 (varying on a case by case basis, of course).

Unfortunately, she was injured on the second day and had to be sagged into camp. She said it was a hard thing to face emotionally, but that they did a great job of cheering the sagged folks up on the ride into camp...to remember that they are still heroes...

Opening Ceremonies

On Day one, my mother dutifully picked me up at 4:30 in the morning, with her amazing boyfriend in tow in order to drop off my gear bag, attend opening ceremonies and ride out.

Part of the ceremony includes a flag procession of the "Positive Pedalers" - (an HIV positive cycling group whose goal it is to remove the stigma from being HIV positive) follwed by two ride leaders pushing the "riderless bicycle" down the center of the arena. The bicycle is for all the "angels" that could not join us on the ride.

My mother and I ended up bawling. The image of an empty bicycle was very powerful. It really helped set the focus for the ride. While there was fun to be had on the ride, we were always aware of why we were riding.

I was surprised at how happy I was to have people there to see me off. It was great to see them as I rode out, cheering me on. It made my mom really happy to be there too - so that made me happy.

545 miles in 7 days Bitches!

Orientation day, line to park bikes for opening ceremonies

Some of you know that I kept a training blog on the ALC server, so you know how excited I was getting...and how my training and fundraising was going. Life on the road, although imaginable in a soft focus sort of way, would define itself in ways mostly unexpected.


Every day began for me at 5am my goal was to get on the road by 6:30. Anything later than 7 would lead to bicycle cluster fuck and unpleasantness. I am now comfortable saying "I am a fast rider" both due to my bike's awesomeness, and some skillz I have worked hard for. SO that means that if I got stuck behind 1500 slow riders, I would spend hours yelling out "on your left!" until I was hoarse, passing people, and avoiding traffic, and generally being flustered, feeling claustrophobic. Kind of like riding your bicycle in a street fair.

By day 3 I had it down. I would go to breakfast in my pajamas, skipping the eggs and bacon lines in favor of express line oatmeal and cereal. Long lines at 5am...for the porta-potties as well! I'd go back to the tent, put on my bike clothes, pack my gear bag, drop it off at the gear truck, then go to sports medicine to have my ankle wrapped and "get stretched."

The medical/sports medicine/chiropractic people were OUTSTANDING! On the second day I started to experience painful tendenitis in my left achilles tendon...they totally hooked me up. Chad would basically make me a new external tendon with tape, which would stabilize my ankle, and allow me to ride with reduced pain. Then, one of the chiropractors or physical therapists would SRTETCH ME! Yes, that's right bitches, they would do my stretching for me...deeper and more effective than I would have bothered to do myself.

They would set up an area with hard "foam rollers" which when rolled on, using your body weight to basically squeeze the lactic acid out of your muscles. I NEED ONE OF THESE! I was surprised at how I was not really all that sore or tight through the ride...I think it was because of these little numbersI would also join a stretching class if one was going on, then hit the road. They give you a directions breakdown and hill profile to clip to your bike - check yer air, fill yer water, and yer off for a day of hill, dale and inner thoughts.

Who What Why Where When?

Currently a 2L at New College Law School, I look forward to a career in criminal defense work.

As time permits, I also am an intern at the Eviction Defense Collaborative.

I pay the rent as an esthetician at Tru Spa, one of the top rated spas in the city. It is a great job for a student, as it is most busy on weekends, and I can study in between clients. Previous to that, I was a professional massage therapist (still certified) and had many odd jobs.

I completed the Apprenticeship in Agroecology at UC Santa Cruz, and completed my undergraduate degree in Geography and Environmental Studies at UCLA.

My boyfriend, Bill, and I have lived together for over a year, with our incredible cat, Barry. Together we go out to comedy clubs, share audiobooks, and hang out with our friends. Most of our friends connect us to each other and to them through our Burning Man Camp, Fandango Village.

I work out somewhat obsessively, and intend to do the AIDS ride for the first time this June. I dabbled in the triathlon scene, but am now focusing on running and biking.