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Some more structure edits while I wait for a build

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@ -16,7 +16,9 @@ to Berlin, further than Tokyo to Hiroshima. It is countless hills, steep
descents, farm fields, supportive on-lookers, packets of chamois butter,
potholes, water bottles, and sliced bananas. Based on this, my first year's
experience, it is also six inner tubes, one bike tire, and an entire bike frame
long. It is all worth it.
long.
It is _all_ worth it.
Along the way I tried to capture as much of the experience [via
@ -52,8 +54,10 @@ production support for the ride abundantly clear. After all the chatting was
done, _everybody_ got their [wrist bands for the
week](https://twitter.com/agentdero/status/1134898127050162176). The wrist
bands were to remain on you the entire week and help denote what food line you
should be in, whether you were a cyclist, etc. I took the unsolicited advice
from my neighbor "put it on the hand you don't wipe with."
should be in, whether you were a cyclist, etc.
I took the unsolicited advice from my neighbor "put it on the hand you don't
wipe with."
Between the end of orientation and when I finally went to sleep, I probably
[consumed 2-3,000
@ -64,14 +68,17 @@ nights.
## Day One, Santa Cruz (82 miles)
My alarm went off sometime between 3:30 and 4:00 am. First day, and the bus
from the hotel was leaving at 4:30. Not sure what to expect, I pack all my gear
up, and walk into the lobby where I'm greeted with a dozen or so cyclists
already in their bike shorts and wind breakers.
My alarm went off sometime between 3:30 and 4:00 am.
First day.
The bus from the hotel was leaving at 4:30. Not sure what to expect, I pack all
my gear up, and walk into the lobby where I'm greeted with a dozen or so
cyclists already in their bike shorts and wind breakers.
Oops, guess we're not changing at the Cow Palace.
I popped into a bathroom and grabbed clothes from my "day one" ziploc baggie and
I popped into a bathroom, grabbed clothes from my "day one" ziploc baggie and
tried to bundle up as much as I could. It's chilly and I hadn't eaten yet.
The mood on the bus is a mixture of excitement and grogginess. Some of the boys
@ -85,16 +92,16 @@ off](https://twitter.com/agentdero/status/1135157391295565824).
The opening ceremonies were an emotional introduction to both the importance of
the ride and the impact of HIV/AIDS on the gay community in California.
The emotional roller coaster of ALC was just beginning.
The emotional roller coaster of ALC was _just_ beginning.
[The ride out](https://twitter.com/agentdero/status/1135179064333889536) was a
dramatic swing in the other direction, my nervous energy offset by my focus on
not running into anybody and keeping one foot clipped out to avoid toppling
dramatic swing in the other direction, my nervous energy offset by an intense focus on
_not_ running into anybody and keeping one foot clipped out to avoid toppling
over at low speeds. Once we got onto the streets of San Francisco, everything
would improve, I figured. Sort of. While SFPD had closed down some
intersections along the route out of the city, they hadn't closed them all, so
the first few miles were spent in stop-and-go cyclist traffic as we hit
stop-light after stop-light.
would improve I figured. Sort of, well.. not really. While SFPD had closed down
some intersections along the route out of the city, they hadn't closed them
all. The first few miles of our epic journey were spent in stop-and-go cyclist
traffic as we hit stop-light after stop-light trying to escape San Francisco.
I imagine this is what rush hour in Copenhagen feels like, with far less
shouting and cowbell.
@ -116,8 +123,9 @@ two](https://twitter.com/agentdero/status/1135235912076484608), where I
followed the system once again.
As the day progressed however, we started hitting very unpleasant headwinds. I
don't ride with a bike computer or using a tracking app on my phone, but the
headwinds were clearly slowing _everybody_ down. Somewhere before [lunch
don't ride with a bike computer or using a tracking app on my phone so I don't
know how much the winds were costing us, but they
were clearly slowing _everybody_ down. Somewhere before [lunch
time](https://twitter.com/agentdero/status/1135316089821323264) the sun came
out, making the coast look absolutely stunning as we pushed along it.
@ -155,7 +163,9 @@ to sleep.
## Day Two, King City (109 miles)
Century day. I woke to my first alarm around 5 in the morning to hear hushed
Century day.
I woke to my first alarm around 5 in the morning to hear hushed
voices and zippers already bustling around me. My first morning in camp was
just as educational as my first evening was. Struggling to my knees to get
dressed in a tent which wouldn't accommodate me standing, I fiddled my way into
@ -195,17 +205,17 @@ were rattling all of our spines. A few miles outside of rest stop one I could
hear sirens in the distance. Eventually an oncoming fire truck would pass by me
and continue down the column of cyclists to whatever mishap had occurred
further back. I would hear later that a friend of a friend needed to go to the
hospital and required surgery on their leg, there's no telling whether that
fire truck was linked to the same incident. But the sight nailed home the
potential dangers of our journey.
hospital and required surgery on their leg. There's no telling whether that
fire truck was linked to the same incident, but the sight nailed home the
potential dangers of our trek.
Bouncing along, I passed the "fried artichoke stop." An unofficial stop where
hundreds of cyclists stop by and probably make this restaurant's entire year. I
zipped right by. Not a fan of artichoke, but even less of a fan of lines.
zipped right by. Not a fan of artichoke, but even less so of lines.
Onward to lunch!
A gentle downward sloping descent with a left turn at the end which was
Some miles later, a gentle downward sloping descent with a left turn at the end which was
_covered_ with sand and gravel caught up a cyclist just ahead of me. The bike
slid out from under her and she lied there on her back with a couple other
cyclists around her. I slowed while "moto", a motorcycle-powered
@ -223,13 +233,13 @@ me wonder what these people think about the gays coming to their town.
At my friend Harley's urging, I stopped by the medical tent to ask somebody to
take a look at my aching hindquarters. I knew that they were pressure ulcers, but
I was hoping for some relief. Nurse Sarah directed me to a tent like those we
slept in, and asked me to bend forward on a chair so she can inspect my bottom.
slept in, and asked me to bend forward on a chair so she could inspect my bottom.
My feelings of vulnerability were eclipsed by my desire to get fix the problem
so I could finish the ride.
She was concerned that one of the pressure ulcers looked so close to opening this
early in the ride. She applied some patches, mentions "night cream" for later
early in the ride. She applied some patches, mentioned "night cream" for later
at camp, gave me some advice, and sent me on my way.
I decided that medical would have to take my bike away to stop me from
@ -237,7 +247,6 @@ continuing the ride. In the meantime, I would just have to be more attentive
than usual to my rear-end to ensure nothing got worse.
Between lunch and rest stop three, the tailwinds continued to impress. I found
myself riding separate from the pack with this one woman who I had seen
earlier. Cranking over farm roads with a strong tailwinds, especially after
@ -246,7 +255,7 @@ that brutal day one, was a blast.
When we approached the "Otter Pop Stop", another unofficial stop, my riding
buddy and I didn't even hesitate to keep on pushing. My heavy steel-frame road
bike notwithstanding, I was probably pushing 30+ miles an hour rattling over
those roads as we pushed deeper towards King City.
those roads as we pushed deeper into the Central Valley towards King City.
I developed a couple more habits which I would continue for the remainder of the ride:
@ -262,11 +271,12 @@ Before rest stop four, there's a bridge over a river. The opportunity for a
cool down on a hot day makes the river another unofficial stop, with plenty of
skinny-dipping. Hot and uncomfortable, I considered taking a dip in the miles
approaching the river. Then, as I generally did during the ride, my thoughts
came back to my butt. I figured that if I was close to opening up skin
_yesterday_, today I'm probably in sorry shape too. Considering whatever lovely
bacteria floats around in a river, and then sitting on that bacteria for the
remainder of the day, helped me decide to pass on by. It sure sounded fun
though.
came back to my butt. I figured that if I was close to opening up skin at
lunch, it might be worse by now. Considering whatever lovely bacteria floats
around in a river, and then the thought of sitting on that bacteria for the
remainder of the day, I decided to pass on by.
It sure sounded fun though.
Having stopped at every official rest and water stop, by six I was rolling into
@ -327,12 +337,12 @@ So hot.
At rest stop three, I stopped by the medical tent where they gave me a little
cream to make my bee sting less obnoxious and made yet another stop to bike
tech for yet another inner tube. Another bike tech cleared the tire, installed
another tube, and once again sent me on my way towards lunch.
cream to make my bee sting less obnoxious. I then made _another_ stop to bike
tech for yet another inner tube. The bike tech at this rest stop cleared the
tire, installed another tube, and once again sent me on my way towards lunch.
ALC has stopped in a little town called Bradley for years. At some point the
locals stopped leering at the gays on their bicycles and started to use the
locals stopped leering at the gays on their bicycles, and instead started to use the
influx of people as a fundraiser for the kids at their little school. They sell
burgers and sodas, with a special "$100 club" wherein the kids will serve riders
their lunch in an air-conditioned room in their little school. I heard that
@ -363,8 +373,8 @@ long enough to see the show, in triple digit temperatures, and then to watch
one of those roadies get back to work. Going from dancing around in the heat,
to breaking up bags of ice and refilling water coolers, all in heels no less.
The entrance to rest stop four was up this short but steep little hill, down
which I breezed starting the last leg of the miserable and hot 63 miles. As I
The entrance to today's rest stop four was up this short but steep little hill, down
which I breezed to start the last leg of the miserable and hot 63 miles. As I
was leaving, another group of cyclists rounded the corner heading for four, and
when one of them saw that hill he let out an exasperated "oh fuck you!"
@ -373,23 +383,25 @@ Indeed.
I hated each of the ten or so miles from rest stop four to [camp in Paso Robles](https://twitter.com/agentdero/status/1136070722021814272).
I hated each of the steps from the gear truck, carrying my tent and duffel, to
my tent site. I was so tired I just dropped all my shit, grabbed what I needed
for a shower and left. I was in a better mood after a shower, so I put the tent
up and headed off to schedule a massage which I had been saving for day
three, knowing I was going to feel like hot summer garbage.
I also hated each of the steps from the gear truck, carrying my tent and duffel, to
my tent site. I was so hot and tired that I dropped all my shit, grabbed what I needed
for a shower and just left. After the shower, I was in a better mood, so I assembled my tent
and headed off to schedule a massage. You only get one massage for the ride, and I
had been saving it for day three, knowing I was going to feel like hot summer
garbage.
After the massage I paid another visit to bike tech to get to the bottom of why
I kept getting flats. It took us a _lot_ of searching to find the needle-sized
puncture but we couldn't find what exactly had been causing it. We opted for a
new tire and tube, bringing my daily total up to _five_ inner tubes. While the
tech installed the new tire, I helped some other bike techs set up their tent,
as they were not staying in a hotel that evening like the others were.
tech installed the new tire, I helped some other techs set up their tent,
as they were not staying in a hotel that evening like their princess-peers
were.
At this point, I was a pro.
At this point, I was a pro tent popper-upper.
Somewhere between first and second dinner, somebody reminded me that we did
Somewhere between first and second dinner, I was reminded that we did
quadbuster that morning.
In the brutal heat with the sun cooking my brain, I had forgotten all about it.
@ -401,13 +413,12 @@ I am become bicycle, pedaller of worlds.
By the beginning of day four, everybody had more or less gotten into a groove,
myself included. As Harley put it "you become a cycling machine." The kind of
machine that says things like "on your left" when passing somebody in the chow
line.
machine that says things like "on your left" when passing in the chow line.
[Leaving Paso Robles](https://twitter.com/agentdero/status/1136273329864634368)
was _another_ epic long journey from bike parking to the starting line.
Interrupted by one of the stubbled gear roadies standing atop his truck by bike
parking and singing along with show tunes in his long white dress.
parking and singing along with show tunes in his long white dress. So pretty.
The conversion to cycling-machine caused me not to remember much of the day,
except for the arrival at the official half-way point where the photo above was
@ -417,7 +428,7 @@ their heads, and pose for a picture. I didn't think twice about hoisting my
steel giant of a bicycle above my head. It's overweight and I've got weak arms,
recipe for disaster, or at least a bad picture.
After having sped down the mountain into the cool coastal breeze, we rode along
After speeding down the mountain into the cool coastal breeze, we rode along
more busy highways as we plugged on into San Luis Obispo (SLO). At one of the
stop signs, a local volunteer was rapidly throwing rubber bracelets on
anybody's wrist who would stick them out, thanking us for riding and welcoming
@ -430,14 +441,14 @@ sausage helped fund local STI testing and treatment services.
Despite Mama Harley telling me that the grass was full of sticker-burrs, I took
my shoes off anyway. My butt wasn't hurting, which meant something good or
something bad, but I was in a positive mood, so I went with it and dealt with
the sticker-burrs in my socks.
something bad, but I was in a positive mood, so I went with it, stretched my
feet, wiggled my toes, and dealt with the sticker-burrs in my socks.
Later on one of the hills we climbed, we rode across a big chalk line which had "norcal" and
"socal" written on opposing sides. Five or six women stood or sat with
decorations, cow bells, and streamers to welcome us to socal, and thank us for
riding. Mike told me later that they had never decorated for ALC before. He
stopped to take pictures.
Later on down the road, we climbed a medium-sized hill and rode across a big chalk line which had "norcal" and
"socal" written across it at the top. Five or six women stood or sat with
decorations, cowbells, and streamers to welcome us to SoCal, and thank us for
riding. That evening Mike mentioned that they had never decorated for ALC
before; he stopped to take pictures.
All along the route people would come out, cheer, and thank us for riding.
@ -460,7 +471,7 @@ disappeared.
The fifth day of the ride, also known as "Red Dress Day" was certainly a
highlight. The overall ride is shorter, but _everybody_ is dressed up. With the
Carmen Sandiegos, flight attendants, waldos, mechanics, and other themed
customs abound, we certainly were catching some looks along the way. My
costumes abound, we certainly caught looks along the way. My
favorite however were [these two absolutely fabulous
ladies](https://twitter.com/agentdero/status/1136842924254097410) who I ran
into at rest stop one.
@ -479,7 +490,7 @@ I continued on to the top where I waited for my buddy.
As she summited our first hill of the day, we continued on.
After the downhill when I could resume serious pedaling. I noticed that under
After the downhill, when I could resume serious pedaling, I noticed that under
tension I was hearing the clanking noise again. It didn't happen on every pedal
stroke, but was audible when I was pushing strong into my right foot. I spent a
mile or two looking at the sprockets by my feet, trying to see what was stuck
@ -566,11 +577,11 @@ As I made my way down the coastline, I came across two of my teammates. One
dancing and giving the thumbs up to passing cyclists, to let them know things
were handled, and the other changing somebody's tire. A third teammate emerged
from the brush, I assume after taking a leak as she was wont to do. Chatting
with them I learned that the woods-pisser had helped change the guy's tube, but
done it wrong and it had almost immediately been popped, likely pinched against
the rim. Fortunately the other two were close behind and offered to do a proper
job! I was of no help, but stashed their trash in my bike bag and headed off to
lunch in [Goleta](https://twitter.com/agentdero/status/1137073346170908672).
with them I learned that the woods-pisser had helped change this guy's tube,
but done it wrong and it had almost immediately been popped. Fortunately the
other two were close behind and offered to do a proper job! I was of no help,
but stashed their trash in my bike bag and headed off to lunch in
[Goleta](https://twitter.com/agentdero/status/1137073346170908672).
Calories ingested, butter applied, water bottles filled, and I was off again.
Like with most other towns we rode through, Goleta was plenty of stop lights
@ -593,18 +604,18 @@ Once I had them sorted, I sent them on their way and followed shortly thereafter
Less than five miles later I _also_ found some staples, and for the first time
in the entire ride, I had to change my own tire. It took me a little bit to
figure out how to get the rear wheel off, between the disc brakes and a
different frame attachment point, it took a fair bit of inspection.
Unfortunately for me,
figure out how to get the rear wheel off. Between the disc brakes, a different
frame attachment point, and the fact that it wasn't _my_ bike, I took my time
figuring how to do the swap without breaking anything. Unfortunately for me,
this time around I didn't have anybody with a CO2 cartridge handy, and had to
hand-pump the tube enough to carry me to [rest stop
three](https://twitter.com/agentdero/status/1137105118778671105), where I could
use a real pump.
Between rest stop three and four, there was the (unofficial) [ice cream
Between rest stops three and four, there was the (unofficial) [ice cream
stop](https://twitter.com/agentdero/status/1137111782810480640) put on by some
local LGBTQ groups. There wasn't much space to sit down and rest,
so I scarfed some cookies and cream down, and got back out on the road.
so I scarfed down some cookies and cream, and got back out on the road.
Following further along the coast, my previous thoughts of "this should be
easy" were wiped away by more headwinds. By the time I rolled into [rest stop
@ -620,7 +631,7 @@ to move along to camp because bike parking was full.
Incredible.
Pushing against the wind for another 10-15 miles took what felt like hours but
Pushing against the wind for another 10-15 miles for what felt like hours but
eventually I found my way to camp in Ventura, [right along the
beach](https://twitter.com/agentdero/status/1137179567116865537).
@ -630,12 +641,13 @@ At dinner that evening, the ride director shared with us that there had been
sweeping all the gravel and debris from the shoulder.
Following dinner there was a candlelight vigil along the beach, which took me a
little while to understand. I had assumed there was going to be a bit
more structure, and that one of the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence were going
to speak. Instead it was complete silent.
little while to understand. I had assumed there was going to be a bit more
structure, and that one of the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence were going to
speak. Instead the vigil was held in complete silence, nothing but the waves
the Pacific rolling in against the sand.
Before returning to my tent, I sat in some grass, stretched and marvelled at
this, the last night in camp.
Before returning to my tent, I sat down in a patch of grass, stretched, and
marvelled at this, my last night in camp.
## Day Seven, Los Angeles (70 miles)
@ -643,10 +655,12 @@ this, the last night in camp.
The [last morning in
camp](https://twitter.com/agentdero/status/1137345806585831428) was somehow
cold again. It was always cold. Waking up and putting on cycling gear doesn't
do much to defend against those chilly coastal breezes. There were news cameras
again. I assumed they were interviewing somebody for their morning show that day. The
arrival of ALC coincided with LA's Pride weekend, not to mention there were a
few thousand of us, which did tend to draw the eye.
do much to defend against those chilly coastal breezes but it was still cold.
There were news cameras again. I assumed they were interviewing somebody for
a morning show that day. The arrival of ALC coincided with LA's Pride
weekend. Not to mention that there were a few thousand of us, which did tend to
draw the eye.
At [rest stop one](https://twitter.com/agentdero/status/1137370497035800581) I
met up with my pace buddy and a few other people. We rode out together, our
@ -658,31 +672,32 @@ no endurance.
By the time we got to [rest stop
two](https://twitter.com/agentdero/status/1137379066359627776), I decided to go
my own pace. They were wearing me out, but more importantly,
my team was going to meet up before the finish line so we could cross together.
We ere scheduled to join up at 3, and I had more than four hours to cover a
measly thirty miles.
my own pace. They were wearing me out!
Separating from that group probably didn't matter for the pace because once we
entered Malibu the entire road dynamic changed. Stop lights, hills, close
quarters, and bad drivers. More so than anywhere else we rode through, Malibu
drivers _consistently_ drove like assholes. They did not slow down. They did
not give any space. They definitely did not care.
More importantly, my team was going to meet up before the finish line so we
could cross together. We ere scheduled to join up at 3, and I had more than
four hours to cover a measly thirty miles.
Separating from that group probably didn't make much difference for the pace
anyways, because once entered Malibu the entire road dynamic changed. Stop
lights, hills, close-quarters, and _bad drivers_. More so than anywhere else we
rode through, Malibu drivers _consistently_ drove like assholes. They did not
slow down. They did not give any space. They definitely did not care.
On one occasion I had to brake sharply because somebody had parked too far into
the shoulder and on-coming traffic from behind me did not give me any space.
The descents, gravely farm roads, and stretches alongside US 101 did not even
compare to how unsafe I felt riding through parts of Malibu.
I managed to survive Malibu's gauntlets and ended up at
I somehow managed to survive Malibu's gauntlets and arrived at
[lunch](https://twitter.com/agentdero/status/1137415873344368640) _very_ early.
Although, when you wake up at 5, lunch at 10:30 doesn't seem as unreasonable.
With time to kill, I kicked off my shoes, sat in the sand, sat in the shade,
and tried to waste as much time as I possibly could.
One of the teams, the wackos who rode fixed/single-speed bikes the whole way,
stood by the side of the road and lunch and shouted "FUCK YEAH RIDER!" to
cyclists making their way to lunch. Like the dancing boys from the day prior, I
stood by the side of the road at lunch and shouted "FUCK YEAH RIDER!" to
cyclists making their way past. Like the dancing boys from the day prior, I
marveled at how these people had so much surplus energy.
@ -690,8 +705,8 @@ Harley, his friend Jens, and myself rode off from lunch into Los Angeles for
the last 15 miles of ALC 2019. Taking our time, running down the clock until
3pm.
We still showed up in the designated meeting area with a couple hours to
spare.
Despite best efforts, we showed up in the designated meeting area with a couple
hours to spare.
Harley grabbed drinks from the store, Jens smoked a cigarette.
@ -708,23 +723,25 @@ complete our entire seven day journey.
It turned out to be one of the most _boring_ of miles. Slowly meandering through
a neighborhood before ending at the finish line. In contrast, the finish line
itself filled with throngs of people, an announcer, noise; the whole atmosphere was
electric. I was however too focused on the speed bumps, other cyclists, and not
itself was filled with throngs of people, an announcer, noise; the whole atmosphere was
electric. I was too focused on the speed bumps, other cyclists, and not
crashing to really take it all in.
On the _other_ side of the finish line, we all crammed into a big bullpen to
either park our bikes, or line up for bike shipping. I dropped my rental bike
off and by the time I had found my broken bike in the parking area, I was able
to join my team who had made it almost 20 yards in the shipping line! The
"after the finish line" process took over an hour, standing on a asphalt in the
hot sun. Combined with the waiting in the parking lot for my team to show up,
I ended up far more grumpy and drained than I would have liked.
"after the finish line" process took over an hour, standing in a parking lot
wearing bike shoes with cleats ground down from 545 miles of work, sizzling in
the hot sun of a windless downtown Los Angeles neighborhood.
Added together with the waiting for the whole team we did in that parking lot a
mile back, I ended up far more grumpy and drained than I would have liked.
A $75 taxi ride to my hotel by the airport and a shower later, and I found
After $75 taxi ride to my hotel by the airport plus a shower, I found
myself slowly drinking a beer and eating _again_ to recuperate from the day. I
fell asleep by 8:30 and woke early to catch my 6am flight, _first class_ back
to San Francisco and a day where I wouldn't eat many thousands of calories,
drink gallons of water, or cycling dozens of miles.
to San Francisco, and the first day in many where I didn't need to eat thousands of calories,
drink gallons of water, or pedal dozens of miles.
The flight back lasted 90 minutes, backtracking the route which I spent the
previous 7 days riding.
@ -733,8 +750,8 @@ previous 7 days riding.
---
It would be incorrect to say that I remember every mile from San Francisco to
Los Angeles. I do remember most of them however. I can recall how my body felt or
imagine the vistas seen along the way. I joked once or twice how it all
Los Angeles. I do remember most of them however. I can easily recall how my body felt or
imagine the vistas seen along the way. I joked once or twice about how it all
felt like summer camp for grown-up drama kids. A collection of mostly gay men,
with a smattering of everybody else thrown in.