Save A Horse, Ride A... Bicycle?!?!

A few months ago, my friend Brendan saw a few pics I posted from one of my training rides through Red Rock Canyon. He'd heard about the canyon as it's kind of well known in the cycling community but he's never ridden it. We started talking about how cool it would be if he came out for a visit and we planned a ride through Red Rock. As the discussion continued, we thought we'd see if anyone else from the SoCal AIDS/LifeCycle community might be interested.



Brendan started to send out some feelers to see if there was any interest and we realized that, yeah, inviting the community to join us would make it a much more memorable experience. So I started looking for group discounts at some of the local hotels & resorts. We figured the gang would want to ride the canyon in the mornings then hit the Vegas nightlife in the evenings. But I ran into a little problem...


The weekend we had scheduled for the event fell in the middle of March Madness. Rooms were sold out everywhere and what was left was incredibly spendy. Some could probably afford it but many of us gotta watch our pennies... and put what little extra we have toward gear and flights and bike shipping for the event. We wanted to try to keep the cost down to open it to as many as possible and that's when I came across...

Bonnie Springs Ranch Motel.

What the hell? There's a motel out there?!?!?

You see, Bonnie Springs Ranch is pretty well known here in Vegas. It's a little Western town right smack in the middle of Red Rock Canyon with a petting zoo and gunslinger shows and a little choo-choo train. A fun little place to take the kids on a Saturday afternoon. I don't have little kids so I've never been. I ride past it often. I've even turned onto Bonnie Springs Ranch Road a couple times during training rides to have a little snack by the Joshua Trees. But I've never ridden the road all the way back to the ranch... and definitely had no idea there was a motel back there. Found out many locals didn't know about it either.

But it's there. And their room rates were about half what we could get anywhere else in Vegas that weekend. So I asked about group rates and Mary, the motel manager, gave us a great discount on a block of ten rooms. With tax, it came out to something like $44 per person per night. Then, when I emailed her to confirm I wanted to reserve the rooms, I included a link to my ALC page to let her know a little more about the group that was coming. She immediately wrote back and offered another 12.5% discount on the rooms saying it was a great cause - and that discount equaled the total cost of the local room tax rate! So now our rooms were only $39 per person!

When I told Brendan and sent him to the website, everything changed. Our little ride through Red Rock Canyon... which started as nothing more than two friends riding a legendary cycling route... turned into Wild West Weekend!

Yes, we had a theme! And if there's anything ALCers love as much as cycling, it's a theme! We figured the group would still want to venture out into the neon world of Sin City so as we began putting ideas to paper we included a bunch of events on Saturday night out in the Vegas everyone knows. Buffets and shows and Bellagio fountains and showgirls. I mean heck, participants were driving all the way out from Los Angeles, Palm Springs and San Diego... they might as well enjoy everything Vegas has to offer.

Let's fast forward or this blog will be as long as the three months of planning that went into this event.

The rooms booked quickly. Even had a few staying off the ranch. Like I said, this route is well known in the cycling community (and, lucky me gets to ride it as often as I want!). But hey, it's Vegas so people wanted to make the trip. And the timing worked because most of our training rides are over 50 miles at this point. So Brendan and I chose to offer a 40 and a 60 mile option. We recruited ALC Training Ride Leaders to ensure we upheld AIDS/LifeCycle's promise to safety and we had a Sweep Team confirmed to make sure no rider was left behind. I worked with the accommodations. Brendan worked with the amenities. I mapped the routes. Brendan invited the community and coordinated those details. We worked together on entertainment, meals, and all the nitty-gritty that comes with organizing a group like this.

Then, on Wednesday, folks started to arrive. My cyclist rep got here a little early because her wife had a work commitment here. And let me tell you... it seems they fell in love with the Vegas that few ever get to see.

Although Mel had to work, they did their best to enjoy the ranch to its fullest. And Kerry rode some of the route to check it out... I mean, we had to check on those cattle guards because that's not something cyclists often deal with! Safety is a big thing with ALC and cattle guards, well, they can pose some challenges. The ladies really lived the ranch... visited the petting zoo, listened to the wind whistling in the middle of the night or the burros doing their thing early in the morning. On Friday, the rest of the guests began to arrive and we all met up at the Restaurant & Saloon.


I don't know what people thought when they arrived. Or how they felt about the kitschy rooms when they checked in. But at the meeting place that night, we had a blast. We introduced ourselves to those we hadn't yet met. We broke bread together and ate BBQ ribs or raised our pints of beer to the adventure to come. Then we sang (yeah, they have karaoke out there too). It was a true ALC event.... community, friendship, stories, life, love. It really was beautiful.

Yes, we laughed and sang and danced and ate and got to know each other. Without any of the bright lights and big city of Las Vegas. And we LOVED it!

The next morning, the folks who ran the restaurant offered to open an hour early so we could have a hearty breakfast before our ride. And hearty is an understatement. I think the biggest seller was Grandma's Country Breakfast. Eggs any style, country fried potatoes, ham, sausage or bacon and fresh baked BISCUITS! Nom nom nom! Of course, it was a little odd using the restroom that early in the morning and realizing you had to pee in a....

... clawfoot bathtub.When I walked in and saw the sign, I started looking around the restroom for the urinals... until I realized this thing had urinal cakes in it... this was the urinal! I mean, that's usually reserved for Sunday Afternoon Beer Busts at the Eagle in San Francisco!

So after we all peed in the tub, we rode out. 40 miles. 60 miles. Joined by some Vegas peeps too (yay, I met some locals to ride with in the coming months!). And it was... well, it was breath-spec-taking-tacular!

Soooo many pics. Soooo much fun. I can't even begin to share it all with you. But we did it. We completed our miles. And they were challenging. And at the top of the highest climb - the biggest hill (actually it was a mountain) the infamous Ginger Brewlay met us with a bunch of hugs & love & encouragement!

Okay, I'm realizing that so much happened this weekend I could write and write and write about it. But I'm running out of time. Running out of space. To say the least, this event brought a lot of smiles. Brought together the ALC community. We shared something that's indescribable. New friends and old came together to continue our journey toward an AIDS free world. We pedaled up hills you can't imagine. We had rode down hills that took us to unimaginable speeds. We rode side-by-side... shared the stories of why we ride... we bonded in this effort that you've heard so much about. Some of us have lost many to this disease. Others haven't. Some work for AIDS service organizations. And some have 9-to-5 gigs like me. We ride for different reasons. We each walked down a different path that somehow brought us together in this cause. But during this weekend - and during the event - it all becomes one reason. Our reason.

There were only twenty of us and I learned so much in just two days. I can't even comprehend what the actual event will be like when I'm surrounded by more than 2,500 cyclists and nearly a thousand volunteers and spend a week traveling through California with them.

After we hopped off our saddles, w met again in the Saloon on Saturday night. Even saw Miss Bonnie herself sitting there sipping her hot water with lemon and listening to the country crooner. Sunday we ate together again. Rode together again. Shared together again. And avoided that bitch of a hill. Nearly ninety miles for the weekend. And probably about 90 homemade biscuits too. In the end, we never made it to the bright lights of the Las Vegas Strip. Somewhere along the way we realized that wasn't what we were here for. We were here for a cause. We were here for community. And we had one goal. To ride. Together. To the end of HIV & AIDS.

So we pedaled as hard as we could to get us closer to that goal.

And you, my sponsors... my supporters... were right there with us. One was really right there with us... my friend Lisa and her family joined the entire crew for dinner Saturday night. Met the amazing people behind this event. And shared a moment with them like I'm sharing this whole experience with them.

As for me, well, I crossed 1,000 miles in training that weekend surrounded by them... surrounded by you... and visited by a drag queen on top of a mountain. And, maybe I got a little something extra in my life. Something I'll never be able to put into words. But let's just say, driving home I had the biggest smile I've ever known across my face.

Thanks to ALC. Thanks to all the Wild West Weekend riders and volunteers. Thanks to all that believe in this cause. You see, we don't ride our bikes to save a horse, even if I do donate to the Wild Horse Protection Fund. We do this to save other lives... those of our friends, of our family, of our brothers & sisters in the community. People who are helped so much by every turn of our pedals... and by every dollar donated to our ride.

Finally, since there's no way I can blog about this weekend to do it justice, here's a little slideshow to share the experience with those who couldn't join us....

Word on the trail is this will happen again next year.... so I'll see ya then pardners!

J-

Little Emerald Birds - Must You Say Goodbye?

What an amazing weekend for riding! Both Saturday & Sunday were warm, clear and sunny with mild winds. I'd created a loose training schedule to keep pace until the big event and the weekend welcomed me with, "You wanna ride 70 miles for the first time? Well, here's how I'll help.... I'll create a perfect day for training!"

Although I only rode 101.2 miles over the course of the weekend, in many ways it felt like I was experiencing two actual days on AIDS/LifeCycle. My total mileage isn't quite as high as two consecutive days would be (the highest will be 191.7... the lowest will be 126.3) and I did both days solo, which isn't like the ride at all. But my experience was full of lessons and reminders of what that week will be like for me and for the other 2,500 cyclists.



Both days, early to bed early to rise was my motto. This isn't a stretch for me. Y'all know I'm up before the sun everyday. And the early to bed part... well, let's just say after riding seventy miles on Saturday, that wasn't an issue at all.




Each morning, I had one goal: Complete all tasks to be ready to ride. Those tasks are fairly simple... and not much different than getting ready for a day of work. But instead of packing your laptop and the notes you took from reviewing the previous days work, you're filling water bottles and choosing snacks for the day. Instead of slipping into a pressed shirt and creased slacks, you're squeezing into skin-tight spandex and lycra. And there are no car keys to look for... but there are two tires to air up. Of course, there's breakfast and showering, which isn't much different than any other day in my life. I did have one luxury I won't have on the ride. I woke up in a bed. My bed. Soft, comfy, warm. During the event? Yeah, that's only gonna be a dream.

Saturday
It's early. 5:15 a.m. to be exact. A little earlier than usual for me but Daylight Savings Time gave me a bit of an edge. And since the route opens at 6:30 a.m. during ALC, being an early bird gives me more of an advantage. Hopefully, I'll be one of the first on the road, having beat the crowd to breakfast, port-a-potties and bike parking. Plus I may get some great sunrise pics for y'all!

I go through my routine mentioned above... preparing to ride. Another notable difference from the actual event is this day I will be driving across town to ride River Mountain Loop Trail instead of just hopping on my bike and riding. I pack everything into the car, pull onto the road, stop at a convenience store to buy a gallon of water, then realize I left my water bottles and protein shakes in the fridge. Argh!

Back to the house.

Grab my hydration and fuel, back on the road, then two blocks away realize I forgot my gloves. Double argh!

Back to the house.

Ok. I guess I'm not a true cyclist yet. There are so many little things to remember. Air the tires. Safety check the bike. Tighten loose bolts. Pack Clif bars and energy shots. For a long ride, bring a lunch. Sunglasses. Helmet. Skullcap. ID. Insurance card. Cash. Debit card. Cell phone. External charger. And. Of Course. Water bottles and gloves. I have 10 weeks to get it right. Maybe I should print out a prep list to review each day before the ride?

When I get to Railroad Pass Casino and park the car, the first thing I do is head to the... head. Hit the restroom for a pee. I know the first restroom on the trail is only four miles down but I've been in the car for 40 minutes, drinking water to pre-hydrate. Better to be safe, eh? When I return to my car, things speed up. Ready to ride. Pull the bike out, cage water bottles, glove up, shoe up, lock up, throw the keys in my saddle bag and I'm off.

I wasn't lying when I said the day was perfect. When I set out, it was 63 degrees. Hardly a whisper of a wind. Maybe a little cool but not crisp or chilly. And when you're pedaling, you warm up quickly. Reviewing my stats for the beginning of that ride, I see that I was averaging 24-26 mph on the downhills and 13-15 mph on the climbs. That's a plenty good warm up.

But the sun was rising fast which brought the temps right up with it. Was grateful for any downhill where the speed would pull a light breeze across my face. By the time I rounded Lake Mead, I realized Boulder City is actually hotter than Vegas. I didn't know that was possible. But on this day it was. And the climb up from Lake Mead to Boulder City is just that... a climb. Sun right on me. No wind at all. But beautiful scenery... even when riding through the flood channels. And still maintaining a minimum of 12 mph. I'm getting stronger in the saddle. There's no doubt about that.

Couple of the lessons I learned that day. First... no matter what you expect, you never really know what you're going to encounter. At about mile 24, I ran into this. The finish line of a 5K Shamrock Run. My first thought.... frustration. Why are all these people blocking my bike route? Second thought... what are you doing teasing me with a "FINISH" line at mile twenty four??!?! Third thought... Hah! So what if you ran five kilometers... I just rode 24 miles and still have 46 to go. I'm not perfect. I think things I shouldn't. But in the end the polite me kicked in. Hopped off my bike. Cheered on the runners. And safely found my way back onto the bike path.

Next lesson. Lunch. Don't take thirty minutes. Period. Way too much time for your legs to cool down. And when you get back on the route, it's going to feel like you're starting over again.

And another lesson. No matter how many rest stops you hit.... you'll have to pee in some bush somewhere. Good luck finding a bush in the desert.

River Mountain Loop Trail - twice!
My longest ride to date... just shy of 70 miles!

And another lesson... this one much more important. Anytime something feels "wrong" on your bike, chances are good that something is wrong. About mile 41, I stopped for an energy shot (hello, Three Sisters.... you got me last time but this time I'm gonna conquer you! Twice!). When I stopped, there was a moment my bike began to topple over and I grabbed it by the rear wheel to keep it from falling. When I hopped back on, there were no sounds and no obvious issues, but it just felt like I had to pedal harder. I figured it was simply because I was closing in on 50 miles. It wasn't until I got home that I realized, although part of it was probably due to fatigue, there was a bigger issue. I checked my ride after I got home and saw that, when I stopped it from falling, I must have grabbed right at the rear brake. And the last 30 miles were spent riding with a brake pad rubbing the wheel. I checked my ride results and, low and behold, my speed decreased dramatically from that point on. And there was no other signal except it just. seemed. harder. to. pedal. Lesson learned.



In the end, I completed 69.69 miles in 5 hrs. 41 mins 45 seconds. At an average speed of 12.2 mph. And the computer says I burned 3,270 calories. Seriously. There was a lot of eating after I was done! After nearly six hours with nothing but trail mix, Clif bars, energy shots, a protein shake, and a cheese sandwich, my body was screaming for calories! But the ride was awesome. My longest ride to date. I didn't walk up a single hill. I dealt with the sun beating down on me. And the temps, when I got back in the car, were at 88 degrees.

When I returned home, I found proof of another little thing I've heard about the ride. Tan lines. Seriously. Funky. Tan lines. It was sunny and almost ninety that day. And this... well, this is what my legs looked like. Imagine these below a pasty white torso and extremely dark arms and face and, well, you've got a gallon of Neapolitan ice cream staring right at you.

So that was Saturday. Nearly six hours in the saddle. Total with breaks was closer to seven hours. And I promised myself I would get up the next day and do it again. Just like I'd have to do during the event.

And I did. Sore legs and all.

Sunday
This day I learned my biggest challenge. I have to get up and do it again. Seriously. I'm going to have to do it again seven days in a row. What the heck?!?! I've learned in ALC training that they often call these second days "recovery days." Stretch out the muscles. Become accustomed to getting back in the saddle. But ride it out slow and easy. After thinking about it, I've realized that's like a marathoner waking up the next morning and running again. I mean, I have the utmost respect for runners... especially marathoners. I'm not a runner but I think the impact on their body is a little greater than we cyclists experience. But still. The average marathon time is four and a half hours. And I just cycled more than five and a half hours the day prior and have to do it again? So. Not. Fair.

But, it's what I signed up for. And so many of you have supported me on this journey in so many ways. And there's no way I was gonna let you down.

So, there I go. Same routine. With a few modifications. Lessons were learned so I slathered on extra sunblock this morning. Remembered both my water bottles and my gloves. Got geared up and ready in less time than the day before. And, fortunately, rode out from my house instead of having to drive somewhere to ride.

Because I didn't need to drive to my starting point, I was on the road a little earlier which also allowed me to avoid the hottest part of the day and the blazing desert sun. Whew.

But the day wasn't going to let me by without a reminder of why I was participating in AIDS/LifeCycle. No... this was just another reminder that this weekend was really like two days on the event. I mean, yeah, there are hills that I can only climb by thinking of those I've lost. Or of those who've survived. There are moments of fatigue that I think of everyone supporting me on this journey. But this was different. This was an experience very similar to what I'll feel when I'm joined by this huge community fighting for one cause. Moments that I think of the stories we'll share with each other. Or the candlelight vigils we'll have. You see, early on in my ride... maybe five or six miles out... this song came up on my iPod. I have hundreds (thousands?) of songs on my iPod and in all the years I've put it on shuffle, I don't ever remember this song coming up. Maybe it has and I just skipped past it. Or maybe it came up at a time that wasn't significant. But after riding seventy miles the day before. Being very worn down. Feeling like I would rather be spending my Sunday with my pups, lounging on the sofa, watching bad television, and doing nothing... well, it reminded me of why I wasn't doing any of that. Listen to it. And you'll understand another reason I ride.... because, as Patti Smith reminds us, it's been eloquently stated, "The departed live on in the memory of the living."

In my life, I've had many... many... little emerald birds depart. And as this folk song whispered into my ears... and as I trudged up that ascent today... tears began to stream down my face. So grateful for very dark sunglasses, as other riders passed by me and I just nodded back to their hellos. I was on my bike. Crying. Reminded of the pain I've felt these past two decades from this awful pandemic. Doing things for friends I never imagined I'd do. Cleaning their homes. Changing their diapers. Giving them injections. Shaving their faces. Staying up with them all night as their morphine-induced hallucinations took hold. Climbing into their beds with them, while their bodies were still warm, but after they'd taken their last breath. Handing their Wills to their family members. Fostering their dogs during their illness. Kissing them goodbye. The first, in 1992 when I was only 21. The most recent, just this past December.

Pardon me. I'm having a moment. I need a break.

Ok... I'm back. So through all that, I kept pedaling. Those little emerald birds kept me going... or maybe it was simply because I was only a few miles into my ride. And I promised you I was going to complete a hundred mile weekend. Plus, I have a huge group of ALCers coming out next weekend from Southern California, and I had to ride part of the route that I hadn't ridden before. We're staying in Bonnie Springs Ranch and, although I've ridden part of the way in, I've never taken the road all the way into the ranch. So, for them, I had to check it out... make sure it was safe... and be able to answer any of their questions should they arise (By the way peeps, the ride from the main route to the ranch is just made of softly rolling hills. Nothing major at all. And the scenery is just beautiful backing up to those red rock mountains!).

So this day was fairly uneventful. A thirty mile ride is pretty much nothing for me now. I had the opportunity to meet another beautiful stranger who supported the ride.... Mary, who manages the Bonnie Springs Motel. A couple months ago, when she found what our group was doing, she gave us something crazy like thirty-percent off our room rates. I also learned I'm getting better at controlling the needs of my bladder, even with all the hydrating I do on the ride so I didn't have to stop in any bushes (thank goodness I'm a guy.... sorry girls!). But the last thing... the last thing that kind of reminded me that this was like two days on the event was during the last stretch of today's route. The moment when I was flying downhill. When the wind was whipping past me, and another seldom heard song popped up on the iPod. The music is upbeat... jovial... entertaining. It reminded me of Red Dress Day. Of the fun to be had at rest stops along the way. Of campy drag and shouts of excitement. But the underlying theme is about a group of people working to fight the system. Changing the world. Making it a better place. Of the glitter we throw in the face of a crisis. My ride ended with this song.... which, in an odd way, represents what the week on AIDS/LifeCycle is about....

In the end, after these past two days, I learned lessons I hadn't thought I'd learn. Lessons greater than the logistics of the ride. More than remembering my water bottles & gloves. More than training myself to be prepared to ride dozens of miles and then get up and do it again the next day. As racers sped by me, I learned that I wasn't the fastest. As women older than me passed me on climbs, I realized I wasn't the strongest. Instead, I was reminded I wouldn't finish first. You see, this isn't a race. If it were, I'd be doing it for myself. For that prestige. For the acclaim. For that gold medal. But as you know, I'm not doing it for any of that. This is a ride. A ride for a reason. And I'm doing it for them. For those who are no longer with us. Or for those who can't ride. For those who couldn't complete 31 miles, let alone 70.

I'm doing this for all my emerald birds. Those which have flown away. And those which have somehow, through the greatest blessings ever, stuck around.

Please consider supporting my ride, and your own emerald birds... or even mine who are still around... by contributing to my AIDS/LifeCycle fund at this link:

Jim's Personal AIDS/LifeCycle Page

Be well, my friends. But, more importantly, treat each other well.

J-

A Day In The Life...

...of an AIDS/LifeCycle Cyclist!

Y'know, after a few months under my belt I wanted to share the experience of being an ALC cyclist with all of you. I mean, yeah, I've shared training rides and events and fundraising updates but I've never gotten down to the nitty-gritty of what this experience is like on a daily basis. Probably haven't done that because it's not very exciting. But, y'know, I've always said you were alongside me on this journey so you should know about the nuts & bolts too, eh?

As a first year participant, my experience is probably much different than someone who's done the ride in the past. Many of the tasks, steps or stages are surprises for me. And some aren't surprising, but just required since I'm a newbie. I think many, experienced or not, have similar days. We all have a few focal points... training, gear, fundraising, support... and all that's added to our day-to-day lives outside of ALC. So here's a snapshot of today... March 12, 2013...

6:34 a.m. - Rise & shine! Waking a little "later" now that we've set our clocks forward for Daylight Savings Time. Although it sounds like it's later, I'm still waking up at exactly the same time. The clock just doesn't reflect that. And, the sun is nearly up so I'm somewhat rushed to take my daily sunrise pic.




6:37 a.m. - Feed. The. Dogs. There's no getting around this. They want to eat the moment I roll out of bed.

6:46 a.m. - Coffee is made and I go outside to watch the sunrise. Snap a few pics and post my favorite to Facebook.


6:55 - 7:15 a.m. - While sipping coffee, I email my supporters - sponsors, gear donors, emotional supporters & teammates - about reaching our $10,000 mark in fundraising. Of course, I include this video which I made as soon as I returned from Los Angeles (do you have any idea how much time it takes to do these videos?!?!? Oy! If you ever do it, just plan on watching your favorite show on Netflix while it renders!).

7:15 - 7:18 a.m. - Check my team stats to see our progress. Wow... we're just $25 away from reaching $43,000! But I hold off on posting anything to the team page because, well, we're still twenty-five bucks away.

7:20 - 7:50 a.m. - Spend some time with the pups. Walks. Petting. Treats.

7:51 - 8:15 a.m. Post weekly workout results to those amazing ride supporters at MAVS Reppin' The Ride. Also share the 10K thank you video on the page.

8:15 - 8:40 a.m. - Shower, shave, dress for work. Oh wait... I didn't shave today. So make that 8:15 - 8:35 a.m.

8:36 - 8:52 a.m. - Commute.

8:53 - 8:54 a.m. - Walk from the car to the elevator to my desk.

8:56 a.m. - Make a cup of coffee.

8:57 a.m. - Work (I won't bore you with the details of my job)

9:30 a.m. Work meeting (And PB was taking photographs - what was that about?!??!??!)

10:30 a.m. Another work meeting - I guess I am boring you with details of my job.

12:14 p.m. - Meetings are done. Swing by my desk, check team stats and realize we've crossed the $43,000 mark! Post a message to the team that I really think we're going to hit $50K by April 1st!

12:29 p.m. Taking my lunch break, I stop by McGhie's Bike Shop to buy a new tire. Turns out, when I got that flat last week, I broke the casing on my tire and could have a blowout anytime. Mike, the Cannondale Rep at the ALC Expo this weekend, did a check on my ride and told me about it. Warned me not to ride my bike until it was fixed. Little did he know that I'd already put 130 miles on that tire with the bad casing, heh! But I bought a new tire. And found out how much they cost! Whoa! I also purchased a new bottle cage since mine broke on my ride with Jose on Sunday. And then, after I checked out, I hit the clearance rack just to see what they had. And since I can't pass up a deal (and still need three more sets of jerseys/shorts for the ride), I purchased a Cannondale bib at half-price. Sixty bucks. Walked out of McGhie's spending a mere $130.

12:58 - 1:23 p.m. - Lunch. Chinese. Nom nom nom!

1:24 - 4:28 p.m. - Work. Meetings. Fun stuff for me. But not for you.

4:29 p.m. - Back to my desk, had a voice mail on my cell phone. Bill McDermott, the Corporate Development Officer (CDO) at the Los Angeles Gay & Lesbian Center had called while I was in meetings to thank me for raising $10K for ALC.

4:31 - 5:59 p.m. Work. Work. Work.

5:59 - 6:17 p.m. Drive home.

6:18 p.m. Feed dogs (did I mention how needy they are?!?! But I love them even with all their faults!)

6:20 - 6:46 p.m. Hang with the pups & chat with my roommate.

6:47 - 7:00 p.m. - Replace the busted tire on my bike so I can go on a short ride tomorrow.

7:01 - 7:03 p.m. Wash my hands. That chain is greasy.

7:05 p.m. (and later) - Put all my cycling clothes from this weekend in the wash. Hang them up to dry when they're done. I swear, I now have so many "delicates" hanging in the bathroom, it looks like a sorority house in there!


7:06 - 7:20 p.m. - Email back & forth with the co-coordinator for the Wild West Weekend ALC ride to firm up details for our Las Vegas event on the weekend of March 23/24.

7:22 - 7:28 p.m. - Message with a teammate about requirements for gearing up and tips for the ride.

7:29 - 7:35 p.m. - Eat.

7:36 - 7:38 p.m. - Send out a couple emails to fellow ALC participants I met over the weekend.

7:40 - 7:41 p.m. - Pee. C'mon, we all have to do it.

7:42 - 7:54 p.m. - Look for cheaper bike tires online.

7:55 - 7:58 p.m. - Buy a backup tire because they're much cheaper on Amazon.

7:59 - 8:12 p.m. - Work.

8:13 - present - Write this blog entry.

Present - 10 p.m. - Hopefully catch an episode of The New Normal, The Mindy Project, or Glee if any are new & available on Hulu.

10:01 p.m. - Take my pill. Go to bed.

10:02 p.m. ZZzzzzzzzzz

6:32 a.m. - Wake up & ride a few miles.

I know it's not much. But it's my life. And I love it. And our commitment - that of all the cyclists & roadies & staff on ALC - is a full time job. Today I didn't do any fundraising. I didn't ride. But every free moment was dedicated to this event. We all take it on... time... money.... gear... heart... because we believe in this cause. But, more importantly, you join us. And I love that you've got my back during this crazy adventure. Thanks y'all.

J-

Dam(n) Wind!

For weeks now, my training rides have been visited by Mother Nature before she's had her coffee. Cold. Wind. Rain. Hail. Even the Tour de Palm Springs challenged us with strong head & cross winds during the longest climb of the day. The last weekend in February was no different... cold & windy. I chose not to ride that weekend because I was over it. I just wanted to go out and enjoy some time in the saddle without fighting the weather... wanted to smile and cruise along and feel that love of cycling. So when I was greeted with a warm, clear sunny day this past Saturday, I saddled up and headed out to Red Rock Canyon for a 30 mile pleasure ride.

Aside from my chain falling off once and getting my first flat tire, the day was perfect! Honestly, the bike issues didn't bother me at all... was proud of myself for changing my first flat. It's something I'm going to have to get used to and after more than 700 miles in training, it was bound to happen at some point. I hit my 30 mile goal and did it at top speed, clocking a damn nice average speed of 14.8 mph. The biggest disappointment of the day was that the sunset from the canyon wasn't spectacular... was just okay. And if that's the worst the day brings me, I gotta feel pretty blessed.

After such an incredible ride, I decided I'd make the most of the gorgeous weekend by going on an even longer ride on Sunday. Even chose to mix it up a little by heading out to the east side of town and giving the River Mountain Loop Trail a try for the first time. I've heard about this trail since I started cycling but the thought of driving 30 minutes to ride deterred me, especially since I have the canyon right here at my doorstep. But on Sunday, I was going to give it a go.... and make it even more memorable by adding a 14 mile side-trip to the Hoover Dam. Seven years in Las Vegas and I've never been to the Dam... figured seeing it from my Cannondale would turn it into a true adventure.

So I geared up, aired the tires, safety checked the bike, packed my saddle bag, filled my water bottles, mixed my electrolytes and drove out to Railroad Pass Casino which has a trail entrance at the back parking lot. Rolling up onto the path, I started out casually - warming up my legs and body knowing I had a long, challenging ride ahead. But within minutes, the trail took me. This thing is PHENOMENAL! It's like a Hot Wheels track made especially for cycling! Felt like a nine year old through the dips and turns and curves and tunnels and bridges and.... WOOOOHOOOO!!! I pedaled harder and faster, zoomed down hills then hit the brakes hard on tight corners. Whipped through zig-zags, rolled up and down, and took in all the beauty of the area. Red rocks, green tumbleweed, blue waters. This trail reminded me why I love cycling. Why I love Las Vegas. And why I love life!

Closing in on Lake Mead, I took my turn to head toward the Dam. The sun was still bright, the sky still blue, the wind in my face but just enough to keep me cool. Veering off the path and onto the road, I climbed up and around and over the pass. As I started the descent, I was waved through the security checkpoint (two of the five guards were hot!), and rolled on down. Passing vehicles were considerate even during the spans where there was little to no shoulder. I was the only cyclist heading down - and none passed on the other side heading up. Maybe this trek was more off the beaten path than I realized.

In areas where I was protected from motorists and where there was something to see, I stopped to take photos. Then suddenly swung around a curve to be faced with the massiveness of the new bridge looming over me. More photo ops. More curves. More rolling down hill. Then it was there. What looked like a gargantuan slab of concrete, built nearly 80 years ago, was holding the force of a rushing river behind it, forming Lake Mead.  I guess maybe that's why they made the base of the dam 660 feet thick. This monolith provides power across three states. And I became one of the nearly 1,000,000 visitors who would see it this year.

I slowly rode across the top of the Dam, keeping with the snail's pace of the touring motorists. This thing's an engineering marvel, but it's also architecturally significant. Designed in the late 20s and completed in 1935, it holds an Art Deco flair mixed with the oncoming architectural era of the monolithic concrete behemoth. Taking it all in, I suddenly realized I was no longer in Nevada... I'd crossed the state line... on my bicycle!

Knowing I was still in the early miles of my ride, I couldn't dally too long, so I began the trek back to the River Mountain Loop Trail. Or should I say the trek up to the RMLT.

That descent was fun. The climb? Not so much. But I'm used to it by now. Just pedaled my heart out, dropped down into my lowest gear. Stopped once to pop an energy chew and a couple bites from my Clif Bar. But made it to the top and back to the trail.

Again, on this zig-zagging, rolling path... now heading north and following a few hundred yards off the shore of the lake, I was giddy and smiley as I cruised through the bright sunshine joy of my day. Then the path began to change direction. Just about the time the wind picked up.

The first 24 miles... pretty much downhill.

Even with rolling hills, when you're headed toward the lake you're pretty much going downhill. And when you turn west, away from the lake, you start climbing. And climbing. And climbing. Climbing. Climbing. Every summit, I looked ahead and there, just up the path, was another hill. It was late afternoon and the sun began to descend while the wind picked up full force. At around the 28 mile point, the wind was a steady 20 mph with gusts hitting close to 30. On the small downhill slopes I had to stay in low gear and pedal hard just to keep moving. The uphills were a crawl, with a wall of wind straight in my face, trying it's damndest to push me back to the bottom.

And the next 24 miles... Up Up and UPPPPP!

But I persevered. I yelled at the top of my lungs, "Make it stop!" or sometimes, "You're friggin' kidding me!!!" Secret wishes in my head sent out to the universe to please let there be no more hills after that next curve.... wishes which weren't granted for miles and miles and miles. During this climb, I thought of all the people I was doing it for. The friends I've held as they passed away from this horrific disease. The heroes who survived all odds and are still with me today. The volunteers and the staffers and the donors to ALC and to all the programs and services and agencies I've worked for in my many years of HIV work. It took all of them. Every single name. Every single face. But with the help of their energy, I climbed to the top.

Passing Lake Las Vegas, I got a brief respite as I turned south for a moment... allowing me to keep a steady, but far from stellar pace, and worrying more about being blown sideways than fighting a headwind. The path made one more slight turn then... to the southwest.... right into the winds.... and right when I hit The Three Sisters.

This is the top, right?!?!?

So, I thought I was at the top but forgot that my friends Kristen & Brian had warned me the Sisters were the biggest bitches on this route. The steepest climbs. Three progressively more difficult hills in a row. The thing about progressive hills is you usually have a downhill between each to pick up speed, providing some momentum to assist you up the next hill. That day, there was no momentum. I pedaled my ass off just trying to keep a 6 mph pace downhill. The little bit of speed I gained, combined with the hardest pedaling I'd ever done, got me to the summit of the first hill. Well, that momentum, that pedaling, and thinking about all the inspirational and motivational souls that surround my life everyday. But sometimes, even inspiration only gets you so far... like only three-quarters of the way up the second hill. And only halfway up the third. I have to admit. I walked part of the way up those last two hills.

But I didn't stop. Trust me... I wanted to. If there was a white flag to raise, I would have. No... I couldn't stop. First, the sun was setting fast. But also because this was a trail dedicated to non-motorized vehicles. I couldn't call anyone to come pick me up because the nearest road was still a few miles to my west.

So what's a guy to do? Keep going, of course.

And get a little lost. With only 3.5 miles to go, the path begins to break up into a bunch of arterial trails. And I took a wrong turn. Don't get me wrong, it was a nice little ride. But added about two miles... and an extra fifteen minutes... to my ride. The biggest blessing was the wind had died down and the path had pretty much leveled out. So although I rode the last 3 miles in the dark (don't fret, I was safe - no motor vehicles, remember?), I wasn't fighting Aeolus (Greek God of the Winds).

When I passed the one-mile marker, I came up over a rise and saw the lights of the Railroad Pass Casino up ahead. I whispered an almost silent "Thank you" to that hideous neon sign. Pushed myself a little faster... and, finally, arrived at my destination.

Exhausted. And. Exhilarated.

Friends, this wasn't the longest ride I've ever completed. But, to-date, there's no doubt it was the most challenging. And I think maybe it happened for a reason. You see, the thing about the River Mountain Loop is once you start, there's really no turning back. I mean, even at the halfway point, if you turn back you're still going uphill. Yes, I could have called someone. Could have walked to the nearest road and been picked up. But I didn't. You know why? Because it wasn't going to kill me. Or even harm me. It only tested me.

And you wanna know something?


I aced it.

Passing The Torch

During my recent trip to the California desert for the Tour de Palm Springs, I stopped at the AIDS/LifeCycle booth the moment I entered town. There, I caught up with Jim Rudoff, the Recruitment Manager at the SoCal ALC offices, and also met another ALC staffer, Mary Zeiser, ALC Recruitment Coordinator. Gotta say, this girl immediately struck me as one fiery little sweetheart. Forever charming. Somewhat mischievous. Lively & energetic. Intelligent & thoughtful. Cute as a kitten. Sleek as a cheetah. Just as polite as she is straight forward and honest. To put it simply.... I really liked her style.

Later that evening, a bunch of us met up for a little ALC mixer and while I was talking with Jim R. he said, "Do you realize Mary was born around the same time you got HIV?"

Um. No. Honestly hadn't thought about it.

But, now that you mention it...

Whoa.

Here was this grown woman I had quickly come to respect & admire and she was being potty trained when I received my HIV diagnosis. I was learning about sex when she was learning to walk. My nephew could have gone to high school with her. Our age difference means I could be the same age as her fath.....

Um, let's not go there. But that kind of puts things into perspective, eh?

Over the course of the weekend, I had a few more chats with Mary and she just... well, this girl amazed me. There was something about her. Something that drew me to her.  I was enthralled. Captivated. Almost... awestruck. When I returned home, I had to know more about her. But I also wanted to share it with my readers. You see, she and I chatted a bit about my work in HIV and how, in a way, she's now carrying the torch I once held. A young, intelligent, caring person working for a cause, sacrificing for the community, intent on making change happen in the world. When I asked if she'd allow me to ask her a few questions for my blog, she stepped right up

So, my friends, I'd like to give you the pleasure I had of being introduced to the SoCal Recruitment Coordinator for AIDS/LifeCycle, Mary Zeiser...

_______________________________________________________

Shortly after you were born, I was an HIV educator in the public school system.
What was your experience with today’s HIV/AIDS education in the schools?

I was born and raised in Los Angeles in the spring of 1989. Attending public school through the Los Angeles Unified School District was interesting. Not once do I recall AIDS/HIV being mentioned in a classroom or assembly.

I was misinformed about the disease through the Presbyterian Church my family attended. The Pastor preached his sermon about AIDS and Leprosy – telling tales of how people were cast away once they were infected. I was instilled with a fear of contracting the Human Immunodeficiency Virus if I came into contact with anyone who had it. It took a tremendous amount of effort for me to overcome the stigma I had against people living with HIV/AIDS.

Prior to joining the staff at

AIDS/LifeCycle had your life been personally touched by HIV?

Before I joined the amazing staff at AIDS/LifeCycle, I had not noticed how much my life was touched by HIV, and perhaps I never will fully understand in every possible aspect how personally touched I am by this Pandemic. All I know is that many people in my life came out to me as HIV+ once I became a part of the AIDS/LifeCycle community, some have passed away, and some have become newly infected – including my very own sister.

Were you a cyclist before ALC? Have you participated in the event yet?

No sir, I was not a cyclist by any means before participating in ALC. To be frank, I was a misinformed, scrawny and fair skinned seventeen year old. I registered to conquer my prejudice and started to tell people about my goal. Before I knew it, I had raised $5,025.50! A customer from the coffee shop I worked in donated her road bike to me. I gained the support of my friends, family, and coworkers who, in turn, broke down their walls of stigma and learned the same lessons I was seeking.

I became a cyclist on the ride in every way, shape, and form. That’s right; I learned how to wear a helmet, I learned how to shift gears, I learned how to clip in to my pedals, and I learned safe road etiquette all while on the ride, from the very participants I was riding with. I started the ride as a stranger to all and by the time I crossed that finish line I had 3,000 good friends, and a new outlook on life.

How did you become a staffer with AIDS/LifeCycle?

Long story short: I was referred to the SoCal office by my best friend/tent mate/now NorCal AIDS/LifeCycle Cyclist Representative. The Manager of the SoCal Recruitment Team emailed me, asking me to submit my resume. The interview went well and we’ve been working together happily ever after since!

What’s a Day-in-the-Life for a

RecruitmentCoordinator at ALC?

A day in the life of an AIDS/LifeCycle Recruitment Coordinator is spiritually rewarding. I wake up after dreaming of recruitment strategies – eager to get to my desk and begin work each morning. I enter the gates of the LA Gay and Lesbian Center’s Village at Ed Gould Plaza, and head upstairs to Suite 202 - the SoCal ALC Office. Along the way to my desk, I am greeted by my amazing colleagues, who feel more like family each day. Our team works tirelessly to recruit people for the ride at sporting events, venues, and alike. I am honored to be a part of this team.

Aside from your job, what does

AIDS/LifeCycle mean to you?

A lot! I believe that words cannot express the amount of joy I get out of this, so I shall articulate it through the art of dance.

If you had a message for potential sponsors or participants, what would it be?

Whatever your goals or strengths, we have a place for you on AIDS/LifeCycle, the highest grossing fundraiser for AIDS programs & services in the U.S.

And, the final question on everyone’s mind… if there was a Zombie Apocalypse tomorrow, what three things would you want at your disposal to help save the world?

Mean people.
Good intentions.
And belief in myself.

_______________________________________________________

Friends, I've got a few years working toward the goal of an end to HIV/AIDS in the world and I can honestly say, if I was going to pass the torch to anyone, it would be to Mary. She and her colleagues at AIDS/LifeCycle are the unsung heroes behind this event. As she mentioned, this is the highest grossing HIV/AIDS fundraiser in the country... and it's manned by just a handful of truly dedicated, caring, insightful, beautiful people.

Mary, when I ride in June, I ride for your sister. I ride for the friends you've lost. And your friends who are surviving. I ride for the faith & inspiration & motivation & belief you give us all. I ride for the work you do. The hours you spend. The commitment you've shown. The strength you exude.

When I ride, I ride for you.

J-