Wake at 5am. Breakfast. Abusive Yoga at 6am. Favorite quotes from my new yoga master: “I know it hurts Junior, why the fuck do you think we’re doing this?!” And, “Pull your leg back. Pull that bitch like she owes you money.”
98 miles today. Getting an early start. Except not. Tara has a flat when I find her in bike parking. 1/2 hour delay as I change the tube. Then more morning bike traffic getting out. On the road by 8a.
Where the hell are we? Oh yeah, Paso Robles. Riding back to the coast to Santa Maria. The daunting part of the ride today is known as “The Evil Twins”. Two long inclines. At the top of the second twin we hit the 1/2 way mark between San Francisco and L.A. Much celebration on the side of the highway. 1/2 way to LA and I’m still not gay. Though I have disappointed a few with that news. But I do understand now why gay men love cycling. The outfits!!
A tasty long descent for miles through misty fog was the reward of our long climb up. Beautiful.
In a little coastal town hundreds of cyclists mob a little cafe for some real coffee. I don’t know that I’ve ever had a double latte taste so good. When I return to Tara, she’s blown her rear tire. 2 flats in one day? Tara, baby. What’s up? Good thing I bought a second spare from the bike mechanics in the morning after the first flat!
On to lunch at mile 48 where I find Gabriel. Sarana had introduced me to Gabriel on Day On The Ride back in April and I posted a little story about him then. We rode together for the rest of the day. Gabo is HIV Positive and this is his 8th AIDS LifeCycle Ride. And he is a strong rider! I was winded keeping up with him.
He came to SF from Mexico City in 2001 virtually on his death bed. The doctors in Mexico at the time were basically letting HIV patients die. Offering no serious treatment. The stigma of homosexuality in Mexico, (ie the Catholic church) is severe. And Gabo suffered from serious discrimination and one horrifying gay bashing incident. Thankfully, Gabriel met some Americans who helped connect him to the community in SF. He went literally from the SF airport to SF General where he stayed for five months. No questions asked. No insurance. He was treated and cared for. Thank you San Francisco Department of Public Health.
He went back and forth a few times between SF and Mexico until finally realizing his only chance for long term survival was to stay in SF where he got a lawyer and appealed for political asylum on the grounds of discrimination and persecution for being gay and HIV positive. It took four years but he won and is legally a US resident here on political asylum. He can’t go back to Mexico.
He speaks of the irony of Mexico, the country he loves, where his family lives, that would have simply let him die. And the US (well, San Francisco, which might as well be its own country in this case) where he has his “family by choice” and saved his life.
The SF AIDS Foundation was instrumental in his recovery. Arranging hospice care when he was sick and helping him find housing as he got better. He served on the board of Positive Peddlers, the HIV positive group that rides each year in ALC and tries to break the stigma that surrounds HIV. Gabriel drives a school bus for SFUD for special ed kids. “They keep me humble,” he says.
He thanked me for riding. I told him it was truly my honor.
All this came out as we rode down the coast of California. Pacific Ocean on our right. As we rolled into Pismo Beach Gabo’s rear tire blew. Really? A third flat? He changed the tube and we hit the cinnamon roll bakery that cyclists go crazy over. A long line out the door. The servers all wearing ALC10 t-shirts. I’m telling you, when 2000 people buy your baked goods you can make some Ca$h Money.
We found out that the little town of Bradley that hosts the bar-b-que each year for ALC on Day 3 makes enough money on this one day to fund its entire school athletic program for one year! This rolling festive and fabulous band of cyclists has a serious impact in town after town all the way to LA.
Finally I pull into camp at 7p. Body feels good. Brain quite fuzzy. My next door tent neighbor Lisa calls it “bike brain.” “This is the day you hit the wall. It’s hard what we do,” she reassures me.
Tomorrow, only 40 miles!
In a red dress…
Stories and Reflections 
#1 by Sarana Miller on June 9, 2011 - 5:58 am
hey, i am just happy you got those flats when you were OFF the bike.
Gabo is amazing! Thanks for sharing his story with everyone. He really loved me on my first two rides.
#2 by Wil Crosby on June 10, 2011 - 12:15 am
Aaron!
How wonderful to read about your journey thus far!! Thanks so much for blogging throughout (on top of your momentous days of peddling), and for introducing the many other inspiring souls you’re meeting along the way. Red dress?? Really?! Pictures!!
Much Love,
Willard