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Tanqueray's Heartland AIDS Ride 2001: A Travel Diary
by Karen Hawkins
2001-07-25

This article shared 5275 times since Wed Jul 25, 2001
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Two years ago, when I rode the Twin Cites-Wisconsin-Chicago AIDS Ride, it was with a vague sense of obligation to do something about AIDS, and a desire for a physical challenge. I had discovered the gym, and was in the best shape of my life. I spent a good chunk of my free time training and raising money, and I rode every mile of the Ride and raised far above the $2,300 minimum pledge requirement.

Fast-forward two years. I'm in probably the worst shape of my life, I can no longer afford the gym, but my vague sense of duty about AIDS has been transformed into a nagging outrage, dread and sadness. In moving from a mainstream daily newspaper in Wisconsin to a GLBT weekly in Chicago, I'd gained a world of insight into AIDS. I know and have worked with HIV-positive people and have documented the sometimes heartbreaking twists and turns their lives have taken.

I decided to sign up for the Ride again after the second well-established AIDS organization in Chicago closed its doors. The AIDS Walk story was disappointing to follow, as accusations flew and uncertainty about the fate of the beneficiaries' money came to light. But it was covering the closing of the AIDS Alternative Health Project that really got to me. I went to a small meeting of board members, practitioners and clients, each who were visibly hurt by the organization's demise. The practitioners sat and shook their heads and seemed more worried about how their clients would fill the void in their treatment than how their own salaries would be paid. It was distressing, and I decided that I wanted to do something about it other than writing stories. A few days later, I paid the $65 registration fee and signed up for the Ride.

Changing Face of AIDS

The route for the Ride had changed, as had all of the campsites. I helped justify my costly decision by saying that it would be a different experience. As with the first time, I also decided that my presence as a Black woman would be an important one on the Ride. Increasingly, HIV and AIDS are affecting people who look like me, and I wanted my face to remind people of that.

Whereas sheer panic of the unknown propelled me to the gym almost every day the last time I did the Ride, this time over-confidence and bad time management had me training half-heartedly during the week and some weekends. In the meantime, I read Randy Shilts' And the Band Played On, and interviewed various people in the community for a series on AIDS at 20. Physically, I was pretty underprepared, but psychologically I was rarin' to go. Too bad I couldn't do the Ride in my head.

Things were different this time in other ways, too. Two years ago, the only other participants I knew were some childhood friends from Chicago and some acquaintances I made in Milwaukee. This time, my girlfriend, Mary Cay, was crewing the Ride and would be my tentmate, another friend was riding, and several others were crewing, too. I felt supported in a way I wasn't before, and I definitely felt that I needed it.

The Girls Whose Bikes Got Stolen

This time, like last time, I stayed with my brother, Aaron, in Minneapolis. Unlike last time, I sent my bike from Chicago with a shipping company. Two years ago, a fellow Rider and I had driven our bikes from Milwaukee to Minneapolis in my car. The Saturday night before the Monday start of the Ride, our bikes were stolen off of my car. That's right. Stolen. We spent the next day going through the official Ride events, dubbed Day Zero, and trying to find bikes to ride. There was no way we'd busted our aerobicized butts to train and raise money NOT to ride. We eventually rented bikes from a shop in Minneapolis for $50 apiece for the week. By the end of Day Zero, we were known to almost anyone who would listen as The Girls Whose Bikes Got Stolen.

This year's trip was drama-free, thanks to cheap airline tickets bought by Mary Cay and McCollister's bike shipping. After spending a blazing hot Day Zero going to the mandatory safety video and turning in money, we had Sunday night to repack and panic.

AIDS Ride 101

For the Tanqueray Heartland AIDS Ride 2001, riders paid a $65 fee and pledged to raise a minimum of $2,500. Crew members paid the registration fee but weren't obligated to fund-raise. Participants paid their own way to/from Minneapolis and Chicago and for their accommodations. The roughly 500-mile Ride ran from July 9 in St. Paul and ended on July 14 at Montrose Harbor in Chicago.

Each night, riders and crew camped out in tents provided by the Ride's production company, Pallotta TeamWorks. Pallotta carries all of the gear from camp to camp, and riders have to transport only themselves and their bikes each day. All of the meals, drinks and snacks were provided by Pallotta, as were showers and toilets.

For a lot of riders, the showers are the best part of the Ride. Semi trucks with a series of private stalls serve as the shower system, complete with hot water and a decent amount of pressure. The doors of the trucks boasted the events where the system had been used, including California forest fires and other athletic events. Outside of the showers are sinks and mirrors. Just off of the showers are tubs and detergent for washing clothes.

The AIDS Rides are produced by Pallotta TeamWorks, a corporation named for its founder, Dan Pallotta. The first AIDS Ride was in 1994, when 478 cyclists rode from San Francisco to Los Angeles, raising $1.6 million for AIDS service organizations. The idea grew and expanded, and in 1996, the Midwest Ride began. This year's event, the sixth, benefited organizations/agencies in the Twin Cities, Wisconsin and Chicago. The Twin Cities beneficiaries were: Agape Home/Agape Dos, Archdiocesan AIDS Ministry, Clare Housing, Grace House, Hope House of St. Croix Valley, Open Arms of Minnesota, Inc., and Samaritan HIV/AIDS Services. Wisconsin beneficiaries were: AIDS Network, Inc., AIDS Resource Center of Wisconsin and the National Minority AIDS Council. In Chicago, they were: AIDS Care, Inc., Canticle Place, Chicago House, Community Response, Howard Brown Health Center and Access Community Health Network.

At last count, the 1,500 riders and roughly 400 crew members of the 2001 Ride had raised $5.7 million.

Pallotta has gotten some heat in the past for not always being consistent in the amount of proceeds given back to the beneficiaries. This year, the company issued a Record of Impact, which detailed the finances of each of the Rides since the beginning. According to the report, 60% of overall donations have remained with the charity, while 19% has gone to participant safety and support, 16% to marketing and administrative expenses, and 5% for Pallotta TeamWorks' production fee.

For people with concerns about how the AIDS Ride money is spent, Mary Cay and I urged them to send donations directly to the beneficiaries.

And they're off!

Monday, July 9: 82.9 miles

St. Paul, Minn., to Menomonie, Wis.

96 degrees

"D" Day

Even though I'd done the Ride before, the first day was still pretty exhilarating, leaving St. Paul with 1,500 other riders and being cheered on by hundreds of bystanders, including my brother Aaron.

When I call Day One "D" Day, that would be "D" as in Dehydration. It was the first of two times I took the "sag" wagon...an air-conditioned bus that transports Riders who can't finish the ride.

As worried as I was about starting off the Ride with the hardest day, I was relatively sure that the adrenaline rush of finally being at the event and of being around so many riders would push me through. Um, not quite. Even when I had trained enough, I wasn't exactly the fastest rider in the world. I've got a relatively steady pace, but it isn't a speedy one by any means. The message here: I am sloooooooooooooow.

The first few miles were fun even though about 95% of riders I saw passed me. A couple dozen miles in, the hills started. And they didn't stop. There were long lines for everything at every pit stop, and my mood went downhill fast. At some point, I must've started paying too much attention to getting up the hills and not enough to staying hydrated.

By lunchtime, about 50 miles into the route, I felt dizzy and disoriented, but tried to get my lunch and go before the pit stop closed. I knew I was done for when I realized I wasn't hungry at all. I took one tentative bite of my grilled veggie sub and halfheartedly ate some chips. I talked to a few people, but mostly stared off into the distance.

A few minutes later I got back on my bike and started to pedal off, but stopped when I realized that the tiny incline to get out of the parking lot was too much for me. I turned in my bike and reluctantly got on the bus. As I was walking down the aisle, a woman stopped me and said, "Honey, you made the right decision. We saw you try to get out of here. It's hard, but you were right." The woman in the seat next to her nodded, I thanked them and sat down next to a tiny blonde woman who looked as woozy as I felt. The bus was filled with people, many of them dehydrated. The crew member in charge in the bus offered to show us Monty Python's Life of Brian during the 40-mile ride to camp, but we declined. I spent that night wandering around camp, watched closely by Mary Cay and my other friends on crew. It was the earliest I ever got into camp, but it was hardly worth it. I went to bed that night intent on finishing the rest of the Ride.

Tuesday, July 10: 102.1 miles

Menomonie to Black River Falls, Wis.

81 degrees

At 7:55 p.m., about 97 hilly miles into our 102-mile ride, a few dozen other riders and I were stopped from riding and told that the route was officially closed. Dinner and the showers close at 9 p.m. each night, and we were told that crew wanted to make sure we had enough time to eat and shower. It was disappointing, though I was so relieved to have finished 97 miles that I wasn't as upset as other riders. Some were crying and berating the crew for not letting us finish another five measly miles. The mood got even more angry when our bus back to camp didn't arrive to get us until 8:40, at least 10 minutes later than when most of us decided we could've pedaled our way into camp.

Pallotta Miles

Standing with other riders before the bus came, I decided to look at my bike computer, a digital device that tells me how fast I'm going and how many miles I've gone. I turned off the mileage part every day, figuring that knowing how many miles I had to go would drive me crazy.

According to my computer, I'd gone not 97 miles, but a full 102 that day. Another woman's computer said we'd gone 105. Yet another's said 107. That was the first time I heard the phrase Pallotta Miles, a distance that exists only on the AIDS Ride. The rule of thumb: Add at least five miles to any mileage given to you by a Pallotta staffer or map, and you'll come out about right.

I managed to finish the entire Ride after the first two days, but even after being driven about 40 miles of the route, my bike computer had me riding 515 miles total. Fuzzy math indeed.

_____

The rest of my days would go something like this: Mary Cay would get up at 4 a.m. to report for duty on Water and Ice Team A. I would get up anywhere from 4:30 a.m. to 5:30 a.m. to eat breakfast, get dressed, pack, take down the tent and get on the road. Each morning, Pallotta puts out a newsletter called The Daily Ride, with a profile of a rider, details about the day's route, a menu and other info. I had registered as media on Day Zero, and me and the Windy City Times are mentioned in Day Two's edition.

My nightly routine, when I finally got one down, was to ride in, try not to cry at the amazing reception we each got from other riders and crew when we rode in, turn in my bike, eat dinner, watch the nightly news report done by a Pallotta staffer, find my gear and tent, shower and get to bed by 10 p.m. at the latest.

My plan had been to keep a log of my days each night before bed, but, unfortunately, that didn't happen My entries are either non-existent or end in mid-thought because I've passed out. A typical one would look like this: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.

Wednesday, July 11: 108.3 miles

Black River Falls to Westfield, Wis.

Mid-80s

Thursday, July 12: 101.6 miles

Westfield to Jefferson, Wis.

Mid-80s; Happy Birthday to Me

When I did the Ride in 1999, my birthday fell on the first day, which was 100 miles from downtown Minneapolis to Wisconsin. When people would find out that I was spending my birthday on the Ride, they would usually say how generous I was to give my birthday to the AIDS Ride. They might not think it was so generous if they saw the payback. My birthdays on the Ride are two of the most fun I've ever had, even with the hills. I told one person in the breakfast line it was my birthday, and suddenly the couple dozen people in line were singing Happy Birthday. It happened again at the first pit stop, and I don't know how many times through the day. People who'd seen me at Pit One would ride by and sing, and strangers came up to me all day to say Happy Birthday. I had decided that morning that my gift to myself was going to be finishing my third 100-mile ride in a row. I got up early...at 4:45 a.m....got myself together and left before 7. It helped immensely that the route was relatively flat, and I rode into camp a short 13 and a half hours later to a crowd of cheering people who, once again, sang Happy Birthday.

My girlfriend had gotten me a birthday balloon and a cake...complete with candles...and had organized a party for me out on a football field. The backdrop was an amazing rural Wisconsin sunset, and it was one of my most rewarding birthdays.

Friday, July 13: 74.2 miles

Jefferson to McHenry, Ill.

Mid-80s

Saturday, July 14: 57.5 miles

McHenry to Chicago

Mid-80s

People keep asking me how I'm so sure I won't be riding again. "That's what you said two years ago, and look at you now. You'll be back," they say dismissively. But Day 6 is a perfect example of why I won't be riding in another AIDS Ride. I don't think.

The scenario: We've already established that I'm a pretty sloooooooooooow rider, even when I have trained sufficiently. On Day 6, everyone leaves camp in the morning at about the same time, rushed out by staffers and crew who keep warning that we'll get thrown onto a bus and not given our Victory Ride in Chicago if we don't hurry, hurry, hurry. Every pit was like that. A mass of us would ride in, only to be rushed out by crew members who wanted to pack up and go

As a slooooooow rider, I'd gotten pretty used to being at the back of the pack. What I wasn't used to was the pack being on the road with me, all at the same time. When a fellow rider passes you, they're supposed to call out "On your left" to let you know they're there. The safety video is explicit about the nasty things that can happen when a rider is startled by someone passing. With no worry of exaggeration, I can honestly say I heard the phrase "On your left" about 100 times an hour on that last day. No kidding. Packs of two or three riders would pass. Single riders would pass. Hordes of 12 or more riders would pass. And with few exceptions, each of them would call out "On your left." There are only so many times you can hear the same phrase over and over, even when that phrase isn't heralding the arrival of someone faster or in better shape than you. Five hundred "On your lefts" later, I think I'm done with riding.

Things you'll ( probably ) only hear on the AIDS Ride:

Pallotta Teamworks' newest tag line is "Humankind. Be both." It's on T-shirts, signs and banners, and we probably saw and heard it about 150 times during the mandatory safety video on Day Zero. Within hours of the Ride's start, the crew had come up with a number of variations, all of them reflecting their frustration with riders or with each other. The ones I heard:

"Humankind. If you can't be both, be one or the other."

"Humankind. Be neither. What's in it for me?"

"Human ass. You're both."

"Have you peed today? How many times have you peed today? What color was it?"

The lovely ladies ( and lads ) of the sweep vehicles, vans that drove the route looking for riders in need of assistance, were hydration crazy. These are just a few of the phrases they'd call out to us as they passed. Everyone was so vigilant about hydration that the motto for Mary Cay's crew was: "Water and Ice. Without us, you die."

( Sung ) "If your butt hurts and you know it, clap your hands."

( Sung to Rawhide theme song ) :

Rollin, rollin rollin

Keep those bike wheels rollin

Man, my ass is swollen

AIDS Ride

( Recited to military chant )

I don't know, but I've been told

Climbin' hills is gettin' old

I don't know, but it's been said

We're all not right in the head

I don't know, but I've been told

Butt balm's worth its weight in gold

Things that were both human and kind.

The members of a Chicago-based group called Team Large who would stand at the top of big hills and cheer other riders up, even if it involved riding back down the hill and riding beside them. One Team Large guy got driven to camp because he spent his afternoon climbing the same hill 25 times with slower riders.

The burly construction worker I met from Massachusetts who did his first AIDS Ride last year on the East Coast. Before then, he had never "hung around gay people at all," he confided to me conspiratorially, but now, two of his best friends are lesbians. He loves the AIDS Ride, and flew all the way to Minneapolis to experience it in a different way.

My girlfriend, who somehow got her hands on the Water and Ice crew's golf cart and would use it to transport tired riders and crew around camp at night.

All of the people who lost countless hours and risked heat stroke helping other riders change their tires.

Frequently Asked Questions:

Doesn't your butt hurt riding all that time? Hmmmm, let me think about that one. HELL YES. But not as much as you'd think. I have a pretty cushy bike seat, and as anyone on the Ride will tell you, the secret to a happy butt is this magical cream called Butt Balm. Or Butt'R, or Udder Cream. It cuts down on the friction, which is a big part of the butt dilemma. It's a godsend.

How was the food? I've had better, and I've had worse. Some of the dinners were actually pretty good, not just good for AIDS Ride food.

I will say this, however, I, Karen Hawkins, will never drink Gatorade or eat another Clif bar again. I appreciate their sponsorship and support, but even a whiff of Gatorade now makes me and my girlfriend gag.

Wisconsin's pretty flat, right? Not at all, unfortunately, and from tip to tip it's pretty hilly. The hills range from "gently rolling" to mammoths that go straight up for nearly a mile. How I made it with my knees intact is beyond me.

Um, why is your skin peeling like that? Because, like an idiot, I thought Black people couldn't get sunburn and I didn't wear sunscreen. Let this be a lesson to all of you: Black people burn. Black people peel. Black people get those nasty little heat blisters. I'm living proof. Wear sunscreen, dammit.

This story wouldn't be complete without a giant THANK YOU to everyone in the community who helped me out. You know who you are, and I'm more grateful than I can say. Remember, if I can do the AIDS Ride, anyone can.


This article shared 5275 times since Wed Jul 25, 2001
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