What the....???? Uh Oh.....

Dear me... How does this sort of thing happen?
Tease...tease...

AIDS ride Day 7! 6/10 Ventura-Los Angeles

Amazing. Somehow we seem to have made it to the last day of the trek. Our last excuse for eating WAAAYYYY too much at breakfast. The last day to give thanks to our cute, punky roadie, with her adorable Mohawk hairdo. The very last day to have to endure morning poo filled porta-potties ( I know, I know, but I left it to the last day and for heaven sakes, 2000 people have NEEDS in the morning, and damn it I never was up early enough to use the potties when they were clean. It was traumatic!)
The sweet Chicken lady has left eggs filled with M and M's and a nice note on all our bike seats. Thanks Chicken Lady!
We are up early, rather anxious to get started as we have received numerous warnings that the route will close, precisely at 3:15. Since T and I are usually among the last group to roll in we live in fear of not being able to complete the ride, on this day of all days.
We pass Pt Mugu and Pt Hueneme, it's a little sad to see how empty these bases are as their usual occupants are off on an extended vacation in the Middle East.
We hit the coast in earnest at the start of the Santa Monica mountains. We barely stop at the rest stops. D is craving fried oysters for some reason, but we do not stop. Until... T's wheel isn't spinning true... another broken spoke! In a miraculous turn, the SAME bike tech is there, and he still has T's box of spokes with him! We are quite sick of the bagged lunch on offer at the stop, but we eat it, waiting with baited breath while super-tech checks T's bike, to see if we can indeed go on

We ride through Malibu and wonder where the heck the stars are? Where are Cher and Brittney? (D) and Barbra and Johnny?(T)
The ocean front isn't THAT big, you'd think one of these hotshots would at least SHOW themselves! George C where are you?
Major beach-y traffic, as it's a sunny Saturday in June (Note: "Carback!" is still shrieked with the same nerdy, earnest intensity of 7 days ago. It's all but intolerable. T & D are just not that into groupthink)
Get this: 2 cyclists get moving violation tickets for going through red lights... Aren't the Malibu cops just the sweetest? Course T and D think it's funny because it's the hotshots who get caught.
We are on PCH along with all of the traffic, then we get shunted onto the Santa Monica bike path. It's a blast to be riding a road we know well. We go under a tunnel where D and T have to carry (oof!) the all of a sudden much heavier than usual bikes down, then up a flight of stairs. We go up our last hill, up to San Vincente Blvd. get Red Vines at the top as usual.
People are lining the streets of Brentwood, cheering and waving, we are both just TIRED. Have to stop and take a quick breather just blocks from the finish. So Dang HOT.
As we climb into Westwood, the streets are teeming with spandex clad riders. They are at Jamba juice, Starbucks, Baja Fresh, Barnes and Noble... Anywhere but on the road. And there is only one block to go! Tempting fate I guess. We make it with 45 minutes to spare.It's a thrill to make the finish line. REAL cheers. We have a glorious sense of accomplishment and triumph. T's bike super-tech, Ted asks him to autograph a poster, which seems ironic, T tempted to give Ted kiss full on the lips for all he did, but thinks better of it, settles for nice many handshake. T gets a nice picture taken by a newspaper at the finish line. It's the one of him grinning that appears here:

Now it's a whirlwind of picking up our completion T shirt, drinking bottle after bottle of Vitamin water, failing to find a place to piddle, then grabbing our bikes for the closing ceremony.
LOOOOOOONG wait for the ceremony to begin. Uncharacteristically we are in the first phalanx of riders. D barely able to stand, and bladder protesting vehemently the Vitamin water.
The final moments are something to remember, wave after wave of rider come in to the pens, hoist their bikes over their heads (T and D just grin and wave) It's a long ceremony, Mayor Villaraigosa gives a speech, D has to hop fence and sprint to port-a-loo, as the Champagne that has been generously given her is the last straw. D hops back in time. Big whoop from the crowd!.... Then it's all over.
T's Mim, and niece, E somehow manage to rescue us from the madding crowd. Mad rush to find gear, find car, pack gear.... then home on the 405s to Laguna Beach.
Months of planning, terror of not being able to raise the money, not being capable of riding, less than pristine equipment, fear that D and T will fight all week and dump each other at end.... It was indeed a terror, but also a great joy, and a bonding experience and a whole lot of adventure. Maybe next year... We'll do it again!

AIDS ride Day 6! 6/9 Lompoc - Ventura

T rolls out of the tangle of bike shorts, smelly socks and freezing cold sleeping bags, and mumbles something about not riding today, D says, "I think you'll regret it." T looking at the uncomfortable, unwarm sleeping arrangements, sighs and agrees, bottom pain is better than sitting in an alternately hot-cold tent all day. D has slight hangover from 1 small glass of wine the night before. Dream of roads and gravel and grates and trucks all night. Grumble to breakfast, to stretching class, to bike, out park. Then.... Beauty.
The terrain is green, covered in Spanish moss and filled with chatty and companionable cows. The ride is beginning to be a tonic. Living in a tent is taxing, it's impossible to get warm, washing clothing is a joke, the scent is less than perfumed, so getting out into open country becomes a sweet reward. Amazing how different California is. Every few miles she CHANGES. Vineyards, farms, fields, mountains, beaches, monasteries, tiny villages of 100 and under. Really the most remarkable thing is how small town and Mayberry RFD California is.
We get to ride through cliffs cut by the army corps of engineers, cold and very steep, and then are riding the 101. It's a test to ones' fortitude to ride by all the rumbling 18 wheelers. The ride is mostly uneventful, except we note that riders have collapsed by the side of the road in alarming numbers. No one is SERIOUSLY ill, just fatigued beyond endurance.
We stop to peel off our outerwear when an aggressive bee decides to assault Di. Her over-the-top yelping bring immediate rescue from quick thinking T as he pulls a massive stinger out of D's side.
Having never been stung by a bee before, D goes to the med tent, the Doctor warns her that she will be "sagged" and given Benadryll if she has any inkling of allergy. Dr. lists potential symptoms. T claims D experiences each as they are mentioned, D must be in shock as she has no recollection of such blatant overreaction to a little tiny bee.
Swollen throat and itchy head fail to materialize, so apparently D is still impervious to allergies. Free to continue on our merry way. Onward to the last night of camping....
Tonight there is a silent candlelight vigil for the victims of the virus. A sweet and heartbreaking experience to stand on the beach in Ventura carrying candles and thinking of the people we have loved and lost.

AIDS ride Day 5! 6/8 Santa Maria- Lompoc Red Dress Day!

Red Dress day is literally that. Thousands of people, men and women, peddling out in red dresses in varying degrees of taste.
D wears a red tutu that is a gift from T, He wears a fetching pair of striped boxers with comedy buttocks sticking out. (Hopefully there will be pictures!) T endures a days worth of vulgar comments, the fake butt IS very amusing! Gives a new meaning to bringing up the rear, doesn't it? hahaha.
Up early and in the pack thru Strawberry Fields (forever) pedal furiously to keep up and are pleased to find we are passing people!
5 huge hills: One gigantic trek up the 101 just past Vandenberg AFB, where D is alarmed to see signs warning of unexploded ordnance (bombs!) Pleasant chats with many cows and fields of wild deep purple swee' peas.
The tiny city of Casmalia (pop 100) Throws a dance party in front of the tiny general store. The whole town comes out to watch, party and cook us bar-b-que.
Lots of hills to cope with, but we barely stop at the rest stops, 'cause we want to look like hot shots.We arrive at camp relatively early.
Lompoc is adorable, small, a little depressed, and the mural capital of California. We go into town from camp on the bus, because a sheep-faced lady sez we'll never be able to walk that far. (We are very tired of the bossy broads on this trip,it seems to inspire worry and angst and buttinski-ness in a certain breed of older lady.) It's about a mile away(!)
Old town Lompoc is cute and sleepy, we spring into the local bookshop and are soothed at the cafe. The proprietress of the bookstore flirts outrageously with T, gets him to give her his home address and she sends him provocative bookmarks.This passes for flirting in the bookselling biz. D well nigh invisible. D's cross to bear.
Coffee is T's 1st good cup in 6 days.
We go to a local steakhouse, "The Blacksmith" for dinner, have illicit wine/beer, HUGE roasted 'choke and Portuguese pupu platter.
We skip bus cause of local crazy and walk to camp. Not that far and a pleasant walk to boot. We catch end of talent show (which we had been asked to do, but turned down. T hates playing keyboards) Not so talent show actually.. One GREAT comedian and one great singer/guitar act. Some really reprehensible lip syncing.
Coldish. Our friend Jose from day one is still sweet as ever in spite of a mounting knee problem.
We turn in, try Jelly sandwich sleeping bag configuration.

AIDS ride Day 4! 6/7 Paso Robles- Santa Maria

Up Early! HA! Bike fixed and we are on our way. Today we climb the "Evil Twins". No idea why these mounts deserve a nickname when there are hills FAR more heinous, we work hard to climb, but not so hard we don't notice the fascinating roadkill. A whole deer skeleton, raccoons, skunks and tons of snakes, all in various stages of interesting decomposition. We are proud to bike (as opposed to walk) up these hills, every inch. We are 1/2 way to LA. We get to pose with Ginger Brewlay, we attempt to lift our bikes over our heads and practically conk each other on the noggin. Raise our fists in triumph instead. The down hill is again a wonderment. So fast and refreshing and such a welcome relief on our poor beleaguered, calloused and raw booties, to be able to coast standing up. T is shocked that girls are now peeing openly on the side of the road. D sympathizes as every time she tries to piddle while on the road, rude male voices inform her the tree she is trying to hide behind is the "men's room"
Inland for so long that pelicans come as a shock, them BOOM! The ocean and Morro rock come into view as we turn onto PCH just before Morro Bay. Absolutely takes one's breath away, it is so beautiful.
T snaps photos of Motels for sale and we discuss buying one and living here forever.
T's knee is giving out, we stop at the last rest stop, which is decorated with S & M pictures, T seems revived after stop. Hmmm....?
In Santa Maria camp, T heads straight to Sports Med. tent. Katie from Huntington Beach treats him and teaches better stretches for the knees.
We feed adorable ducks our stale "Goldfish" crackers.
We try a Pita bread configuration for the sleeping bags to stay warm.