Day 1: Heat and Rain – 102 Miles

Opening ceremonies in Scope Arena moved us that morning, allowing us to spill tears for those who have fallen from HIV/AIDS and reminding us why we were riding. We 1,117 riders rolled out of Norfolk with a police escort at 8am on Thursday, jazzed to begin our adventure. We had no idea of the kind of adventure that awaited us. We rode in scorching heat the first 40 or 50 miles that day through parched Virginia farmlands, evidence of the mid-Atlantic drought we’ve all been hearing about. We have a saying in the AIDS Ride: "Drink. Pee. No IV." Some riders didn’t remember this mantra and spent the rest of the day under the attentive care of the medical staff. As we were stopped for lunch, claps of thunder grumbled above, foretelling the misery we were in for over the next 48 hours. We took a charming ferry across the James River later in the day, putting us in Jamestown. As we biked through colonial Williamsburg further up the road, the skies opened up and peed on us. Pouring, pouring ridiculous rain so that when we finally got into camp 102 miles later, all that we had to show for the day it seemed was a wet campsite, wet tents, wet gear, wet shoes, and wet bikes.

My adorable 18-year old tent mate and I managed to have a semi-dry tent to sleep in that night and left our bikes shoes outside to dry. Of course, at 3:30am camp awoke to more thunder and lightning and lots of rain.

Day 2: Rain – 112 Miles

7am: squishy bike shoes.

The weather was misty and cool on the tough and long day that was Day 2. However, I felt like a rock star with wings as I made my way through central Virginia, outside Richmond, and up to Fredericksburg. I saw places I never would have seen without a bike to explore back country roads. I spent the day with three excellent women, one of whom, Annie, I feel is like one of my new best friends.

4pm: the sky turns black – rain.

4:02pm: squishy bike shoes.

After having my sixth bag of Lays classic potato chips for the day at slippery Pit Stop 5, I got angry when I realized I had 12, not 8, miles left until camp that I would have to ride in the pouring, ridiculous rain. This is when I sped along at 15-17mph, uphill, for 12 miles to camp. It was incredible – 112 miles felt like nothing when I arrived in camp. Despite the gray wetness, there were other AIDS Riders and crew to cheer Annie and me into camp. Their warmth and the buzzing conversation at the dining hall made the mud, cold, and grime seem not so bad. That’s what the AIDS Ride is all about.

Day 3: 82 miles – Hills

Camp was buzzing with activity at 5am, as usual, with everyone convinced that we couldn’t experience anymore rain – after all, we were all wearing our very last items of dry clothing. So at 7:15am, when we were all about to hit the road and it started pouring, we were less than, um, thrilled. Oh, well, our shoes were already wet.

But the day turned out to be glorious. Unfortunately, I felt extremely ill the first 40 miles that day, racked by stomach cramps (gallons of Gatorade, sugar, and salt will do that). I remember, when sheer will power was getting me up a hill during the 12 miles between Pit Stop 2 and lunch, I felt like sobbing because I was in so much pain and the hill was such a struggle. At the top of a hill, another rider, Aesha, was jumping up and down, cheering me on, and tugging on an imaginary rope, pulling me up the mountain that was this hill. At that point, I did start crying. Her act of support and kindness exemplified the love that I had been witness to throughout the Ride, in which riders and crew take care of each other and pull for each other. I do not know how to explain it to a non-AIDS Rider. Think of how you would like the world to be every day.

Annie and I flew along the roads the rest of the day, stopping once to admire some longhorn steer in Faquier County. Riders and crew amazed us with their cheering when we rode into camp that evening. We immediately hopped off our bikes and did the same for the Riders coming in after us. Camp was awesome that night. Spirits were high because the weather was so great and the ground so dry. In my usual fashion when I get in a great mood, I couldn’t stop chatting it up with folks that night and then set my mind to flirting with Nick from Gear Truck A. There’s time for romance even on the AIDS Ride.

Day 4: 50 miles – Hills

Surges of adrenaline fueled Day 4 as I took hills at 20mph on my mountain bike. Suddenly, street signs were familiar and when we reached Ballston, my neighborhood, the realization I was home struck. I was excited and a little sad. The ride down Constitution Avenue in the midst of Sunday afternoon traffic was surreal. It was surreal because I wasn’t on a typical training ride through DC, but I was about to end a long journey of time, miles, and commitment. I eventually collapsed onto the familiar grass of the National Mall in a daze. The AIDS Ride was over.

Well, almost over. I wish all of you could have been at closing ceremonies. All the beautiful people with whom I had experienced four of the most amazing days ever were there, cheering, picking up their bikes in triumph, and realizing why we had ridden:

During the toughest moments of the rides, maybe during the hills or the rain, there were times when we all wanted to quit or whine like there was no tomorrow. That would precisely be the time when a Positive Pedaler—an AIDS Rider who is HIV positive—would be riding next to you, accomplishing an extraordinary feat that victims of HIV will never be able to experience. In those moments as an AIDS Rider, you realize that it’s the most amazing thing in the world to feel the strength of your body and the strain of your muscles and the heat of the sun (or drops of rain) on your face on a summer day in June. You realize that you have become part of a wonderful community of people who have chosen to make a difference and are a moving monument to life.

These are big, bold statements to make but I feel like I was part of a bold statement during the AIDS Ride. Riding hundreds of miles on a bike was tough but physically fulfilling. Spiritually, the AIDS Ride was an energizer. I hope all of you continue to support the AIDS Rides, Whitman-Walker Clinic, and Food & Friends throughout the year.

Thank you again for helping me to participate in an amazing life experience.