Please donate as generously as you can to help raise funds for the San Francisco AIDS Foundation and its life giving work supporting those living with HIV/AIDS, and developing a zero-transmission model for the future.
Every year starting in 2014, I have participated in the annual AIDS/LifeCycle (ALC) 545-mile bike ride from San Francisco to Los Angeles. ALC is an amazing community of people, all dedicated to raising funds to support the lives and health of people living with HIV/AIDS, to develop a zero-transmission model for fighting the virus, and to end the epidemic. The AIDS/LifeCycle website describes its impact: “Since 1993, when the Ride began as a for-profit event called “California AIDS Ride”, participants have raised more than $220 million and completed more than 42,000 journeys on bikes from San Francisco to Los Angeles.”
With this post and the video above, I am kicking off my fundraising efforts for 2022. I’ll be reaching out directly over the next few weeks to my previous contributors and potential contributors among friends and family. But you can make your donation now at my ALC fundraising page.
Why I Ride
I thought it might be a nice idea to speculate briefly on what the ride means to me, and why I ride and fundraise, by posting the photos of me at the finish line in the six rides I have completed, and adding a few short thoughts.
2014
First and foremost, I ride in memory of the army of friends I lost to the pandemic. All through that first ride, I kept thinking of them, especially my six best friends whom I lost to the plague (I have a now very antique site about those I lost to the plague called My Dead Friends):
Michael Merrill (1951-1989)
Jack Green (1947-1990)
Kurt Woodill (1943-1992)
Gary Gaetano Bandiera (1956-1993)
Tom Burdick (1950-1993)
Robin Simpson (1951-1993)
I was thinking of them as this photo was taken. I especially thought of them on the huge descent after the halfway point on Day 4; I wept openly as I swept down that epic hill towards the Pacific Ocean.
That first ride was emotional in a way it would be hard to recreate. I felt part of something bigger than myself, I felt the presence of those I’d lost. I knew that this was a new focus of my life.
Every year, I write their names on the banner displayed on Day Zero, the kickoff day before the ride begins.
2015
My second ride was a lot harder than the first. I strained my left IT band on the first day and rode in significant pain every single remaining mile. Pain sure focuses the mind. But I have always believed that you need to find a way to learn from every circumstance, even the nasty ones. And for me, it reminded me that I was still on a bike, still riding, while others are still fighting for their lives. The work of the SF AIDS Foundation saves those lives, not only of those already living with HIV/AIDS, but also those lives that it protects by minimizing seroconversion.
HIV/AIDS had another impact that we always need to remember. Our community came together and supported each other. We have fought from when AIDS was an unmentionable disease to a day when many thousands live their lives without stigma. We did that together as a community, a community that grew as people and other communities joined us. Those of you who have donated to my and others fundraising are a huge part of that community.
We’re in this together.
2016
In 2016, I rode with a team for the first time. (ALC has teams organized by riders and roadies; you can belong to one, or not. Up to each individual.) Mighty Heroes was founded by my good friend and fellow rider Hoa Su; I’m wearing the team jersey. It was a great experience, hanging out together, supporting each other. Our team had riders with a a range of experience, and that was a learning moment. Everyone on the ride is there because they raised funds for ALC. Whether they ride every mile, or whether they “SAG” in the middle of a day and take the bus to the end, it doesn’t matter. What matters is their commitment to end the epidemic. (SAG stands for support and gear, and we use it as a verb to describe when a rider can’t make it to the end of the day’s ride.)
We ride to end the epidemic.
You might notice those “too cool for school” white cycling shoes. They died an epic death on the 2017 ride … but that’s another story.
2017
Since 2015, I trained with the Marin Marauders Training Group. And then in 2017, we created the Marin Marauders AIDS/LifeCycle Team. (Mighty Heroes was a short-lived but exuberant team.) The Marauders have always been my core group. When I got back on the bike in 2013, one of my goals was to meet more people. The experience of the epidemic in the 80s and 90s made me a bit of a recluse, which is really antithetical to who I am. I spent more time with my dogs than with friends.
That’s another reason I ride. I ride for the incredible community we have built. When they announce the fundraising total on the morning of the ride-out every year, I am overwhelmed with emotion at standing together in the Cow Palace with all those riders ready to go and roadies ready to make it happen. (In most years, it is around 16 million dollars.)
I ride for our communities … all of them. I ride for my friends and my family.
2018
ALC moved its finish line in 2018 to downtown LA, and it wasn’t a great success. Threading 2500 riders through the middle of LA on a hot Saturday afternoon was hair-raising. And when we got to the finish line, the cheering crowds were further up the road, so you went through the line all alone. O well, nothing ventured, nothing gained.
ALC riders raise funds for both the San Francisco AIDS Foundation (SFAF) and the LA LGBT Center’s HIV/AIDS projects. All funds raised by Northern California riders, such as myself, go to SFAF. But as we ride through California, we are all in it as one, San Franciscans, Los Angelenos, and riders from all over California, the United States, and the world.
We call the ride the Love Bubble. And it is a curious experience that when you go through the finish line, poof, the bubble bursts. We all get on with getting back to our lives pretty quickly.
And so we are left with the memories. That’s another reason I ride. I ride to remember. Road cyclists spend a lot of time on a bike, and most of that time you are effectively alone with your thoughts. I make sure to focus my thoughts on remembering … those we have lost, those who fight on, those who make the Love Bubble the incredible experience that it is.
2019
I finally remembered to smile at the 2019 finish line. The ride is emotional and the finish packs all that emotion into one short moment. So I have tended to look a little grim.
But we have to remember to smile. Always. Through thick and thin. And that is the last reason I ride. To smile. And to help others smile.
Just smile.
2022
We didn’t ride in 2020 and 2021, and we all know why. How much better would “we” as a society be if we had learned from the HIV/AIDS communities how to come together to fight a pandemic? Some of us, many of us, are trying to do just that, but we are being frustrated by a wave of, what else can you call it but, extreme selfishness.
But we have to do what we can do. And what I can do is to raise funds for HIV/AIDS services.
So, again, I ask you to give generously if you can to help me reach my goal, and to help AIDS/LifeCycle reach its goal.