We rode out from Northeastern University the morning of September 12. I almost became the first casualty, as I had an episode of dehydration (due to allergies and lack of sleep) before the ride started, but a bottle of water got me back on my feet. The medical crew gave me the go-ahead, so I pedalled on, in the middle of the pack. To be careful, I had a friend, Danny Eller, keep an eye on me for the first few miles, but everything was fine.
For the first ten miles, automobile and bicycle traffic combined to create serious jams. We rode slowly, with many people along the route cheering us on or blowing their horns in support. As we got out of the city, things spread out and we could bike at normal speed. Around 11:00, as I was reaching the second pit stop, I saw Nina standing on the curb cheering on the riders. I pulled over for a hug, encouragement, and a care package, and continued into the second pit stop...
Energizer
See the Bunny
Be the Bunny
You keep going
and going
and going
and going
and going.
The pit stops have fruit, water, bagels, Power Bars, Powerade (being blue, it was described as Smurf blood or wiper fluid), medical tents, and often bike mechanics. Many of the pit stops have themes, repeated from day to day, and this was my favorite (others included Mardi Gras and underwear), because it related cleverly to the ride. And the bunny costumes were cute. Also, the Pit 2 crew seemed particularly good at arranging for us to bike out of the stop along a different route than we biked in, which smoothed out traffic problems.
Being a bit faster than average, I had the opportunity to ride by a wide variety of other riders. Many had helmets with silly decorations, including a flamingo, a turtle, Bert, Ernie, and two Poohs. A few rode tandems. And two women who had lost the use of their legs were riding hand-powered recumbents. Several riders rode with shirts or photographs memorializing those whom they had lost--brothers, friends, lovers, or in one case, Lady Diana. Others wore shirts identifying them as members of Spokes Busters (doing all four AIDS Rides this year) or Positive Pedalers (HIV+).
We rode on through the hills. This year, our route map listed all the major climbs. It didn't cut down on the amount of work we had to do, but it was nice to know in advance what the flat and rough stretches would be.
At the last pit stop, not long before the last and most severe series of hills, I caught up with Helene Newberg. Helene and I had led several training rides and had also ridden a century together, to Exeter and back. She was one of the first 50 people to raise the minimum of $1500 in pledges, so she got to help lead the pack out of Boston. We rode the last leg together into Storrs, where our first camp would be at the University of Connecticut.
At night there were entertainment and speeches. Representatives from Fenway Community Health Center and the New York beneficiaries spoke about specific ways that the money raised by the AIDS Ride had helped their institutions. For the first time since the beginning of the crisis, the number of new cases and the number of deaths both dropped in 1996. But the drugs are still expensive, and many useful treatments are not covered by insurance.
There were many places where we were cheered on as we rode through the streets. Naturally, Boston and New York had strong turnouts. Dudley, Mass. had many schoolchildren with handmade signs. Early on the second day, there was an eerily encouraging trumpeter on a hill. But to understand the city that had the biggest impact on me requires some history.
In 1995, I had a mechanical problem at the beginning of the second day and rode into the fifth pit stop, on Long Island Sound, 30 miles outside of Bridgeport, a bit later than I had hoped. The story eventually developed that despite the general support of the city and its residents, there were many people who came out to harrass the riders--with rocks, bottles, and their automobiles. The Ride organizers decided that it would not be safe, as dusk approached, to allow the rest of us to ride to the camp in Bridgeport. We waited, and were eventually bused in.
In 1996, the ride was lengthened to four days, and the route was changed substantially. It no longer went near Bridgeport.
In the mean time, community organizers were at work in Bridgeport. The 1997 ride, back to three days, would again spend its second night there. I approached the fifth pit stop with some trepidation, but all was well. After spending a few minutes enjoying the view of the water, I rode on, and we stayed along the water for a while.
Entering Bridgeport, the reception was fantastic. We were
enthusiastically cheered by the townspeople, and there were many
supportive signs, official ones from the town as well as personal
ones held up by people as we rode by. Except for one lonely
misanthrope shouting a four-letter word, everyone was positive.
Thinking about the challenging and scary work that went into the
turnaround brought me to tears. And there was laughter as
well...
If there is pain in your thighs,
It is because you are relieving the pain of others.
If your calves ache,
You didn't train enough.
The camp was at Seaside Park, on the shore of the Sound. We could enjoy the view as we laid out our tents and ate dinner. Afterward, there were some speeches. We learned that the city had donated the use of the park, the police details, and the thousands of gallons of water that we used. Another speaker was struck by the support that women have given to gay men during the AIDS epidemic and challenged men to give equal support to women fighting against breast cancer. Community Health Project, a beneficiary of the ride, will be naming its new building after Audre Lorde, who died from breast cancer, and Michael Callen (a singer for the Flirtations), who died of AIDS.
The talent show which ended the evening was better than most of the "names" they've had on other nights. It included David Krakauer, the lead singer for the Klezmatics, inspired by the tikkun olam he saw on the ride, singing a hassidic song about the coming of the messiah. There were others who were equally good, but I was tired; I don't remember.
Around the middle of the third day, we entered New York City. The Bronx. Here we were hardly noticed. What's another 3000 bike riders amidst the chaos of the roads there? But as we realized later, the work that the ride enables will not help poor AIDS sufferers in the Bronx for a long time--the New York beneficiary clinics are too far away, and the treatments enabled by new research are too expensive.
Biking in the Bronx was not fun, especially with no support. The traffic, the potholes, and the constant starting, stopping, and gear changing caused the carpal tunnel pain in my right wrist to flare up for the first time on the ride. Braking with my left hand and signaling with my right helped; it also helped when we reached Riverside Drive, my favorite part of the ride. It's not just that it's near the end, but it starts with a great view of the Hudson and New Jersey and continues downhill for five miles with no crossing traffic.
Not long after, we reached the "holding area" in lower Manhattan, where we waited until the closing ceremonies began at 4:00. Then we rode en masse in our new, brightly-colored victory t-shirts, two miles past huge cheering crowds. We applauded each other and the crew. The ride was over.
Until next year. I'll be riding again, September 17-19. There are plenty of opportunities for those who want to help, as riders, crew, and volunteers, or you can sponsor me, rider 333B. I hope to see you there!