AIDS Lifecycle Thank You Letter

Hi friends and supporters!

We did it! I am now back in the San Francisco Bay Area, having completed the 7-day, 545 mile bike ride to Los Angeles. What an amazing week!! I’ll do my best to capture the majesty of the California coast line, the sense of community among the riders and roadies, the challenge and accomplishment of camping each night and jumping back on your bike each morning, and the serious impact that this week had on my understanding of HIV/AIDS and, in some ways more profoundly, on the fight for full acceptance and integration of the LGBT (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender) community in broader society.

But first, I want to thank you again for all of the support that you provided to make this adventure possible for me. Your donations totaled more than $4000 for the San Francisco AIDS Foundation, an important part of the $13 million that was raised through the AIDS Lifecycle. This is not only the most money ever raised in the history of this event, but also represents the single greatest fundraiser for HIV/AIDS throughout the world since the disease first appeared thirty years ago. Thank you for being part of the fight to eradicate this disease, help find a cure, and support those who are living with it today.

The AIDS Lifecycle is so much more than a really long bike ride. The week provided a chance for the creation of a mini-utopian society where everyone was fully accepted, supported, and loved for who they are. Traditionally, the majority of the participants are from the LGBT community, reflecting the demographics of those who have been affected by HIV/AIDS. In the last decade, as the disease has spread to straight and minority (primary Black and Latino) communities, the ride itself has become more diverse. This year, about 40-45% of the riders were straight. However, having never participated in an activity that was primarily comprised of those from the LGBT community, in many ways I felt like I was entering into a “foreign” culture with its own rites, rituals, expressions, salutations, history, humor, music, etc. For example, in many Latin American and European countries, friends kiss each other once or twice on the cheek as a form of greeting; gay men give each other a peck on the lips.

Each day and night of the ride, I learned a little more of the history of this culture, which is intimately tied to the devastating effects of HIV/AIDS. I was too young to remember the mid 80s, when the epidemic was the worst and many friends that I met on the ride (who have been living with HIV/AIDS for twenty to thirty years now) lost friend after friend after friend after friend, ultimately knowing dozens if not more than one hundred people who died within only a few years. The legacy of this deadly epidemic lives on in the minds and psyche of this community, and the fact that there are new cases of HIV/AIDS every day (2 people in San Francisco today alone, statistically speaking) prevents those who live with these memories to fully recover from the trauma. Rather, we’re compelled with a greater sense of urgency to make a difference and find a cure.

The true meaning and purpose of this ride goes beyond the fight against HIV/AIDS. This disease has always disproportionally affected homosexuals and therefore continues to be stigmatized as a gay disease. I now understand these issues as inexorably linked: the fight for a cure and the fight for full civil rights, full acceptance, and full integration of LGBT into the greater hetero-normative society. On the ride, we achieved this utopian vision of acceptance, friendship, and community. More than anything else, this is the memory that I will carry with me from AIDS Lifecycle and the frame by which I hope you understand the experience.

Now that I’ve gotten my preacher moment out of the way, I might as well tell you a bit about the ride itself! Here is a rundown of key highlights from each day:

Day 1 (June 5, 2011): San Francisco to Santa Cruz, 85.6 miles
At 5:00 am, 2,300 riders, 600 roadies (volunteers), and hundreds of family and friends gathered at the Cow Palace in Daly City for the opening ceremonies. This day commemorated the thirtieth anniversary of the first reported case of HIV/AIDS, adding special significance to the world record we had set for our fundraising. I felt excited and enthusiastic to begin the adventure as I scaled the first hills and made our way through Pacifica and Half Moon Bay down the coast. Unfortunately, the clear morning skies turned grey, cold, and windy in the afternoon. After lunch, we had a twenty-mile stretch with some serious headwinds blowing in our face. By the time I hit the rest stop at mile 65, I was shivering, achy, and exhausted. “How am I going to complete this ride?” I thought. “This is only Day 1!” Now as I look back on the week, that twenty-mile stretch was the worst it got. Even when we experienced crappy weather later in the week (it was cold and gloomy most days), I wasn’t as miserable as I was on that first day.

Day 2 (June 6, 2011): Santa Cruz to King City, 106.1 miles
After spending our first night in our transient tent city where large pop-up tents house a mess hall for 3000, medical services, chiropractors, physical therapists, massage therapists, bike repair services, administration, huge mobile shower trucks, and probably about 100 Porta-Potties, we inched our way through the Santa Cruz morning rush hour. (Throughout the Lifecycle, we are required to ride single file and without headphones for safety reasons.) Once we hit the open road, strong tailwinds pushed us along allowing me to keep a 20-25 mph pace. On one downhill, I hit 42.9 mph, my max speed to date. Completing my first century ride (albeit with a number of rest stops along the way) felt great.

Day 3 (June 7, 2011): King City to Paso Robles, 65.7 miles
This day, the weather was perfect with strong sunshine and good tailwinds. We hit the most difficult climb of the ride, appropriately titled Quadbuster. Then after a great downhill descent, we pulled into a small town in central California called Bradley. With only a few hundred people, this community has embraced the ride with open arms. Each year, they host a huge barbeque and bake sale, raising enough money from the riders to support all of the extra curricular activities for their K-8 elementary school. This year, they even tied red ribbons to each pillar on the bridge as you enter town to show their commitment to the cause and support of the riders. The AIDS Lifecycle strives to spread awareness in addition to raising money for HIV/AIDS. Seeing the flamboyance of the riders, we’re convinced that not one of the children in that town would feel ashamed to embrace their own sexuality.

Day 4 (June 8, 2011): Paso Robles to Santa Maria, 98.5 miles
Another long ride with great tailwinds. After a great climb, we reached the top of a mountain and the halfway point to Los Angeles, an accomplishment in and of itself that provided a great photo opportunity. For the past three and a half days, my feet had been feeling incredibly numb, which I attributed to the cold and gloomy weather. At last, someone suggested that I loosen my shoes… what a brilliant idea! I literally had been cutting off the circulation to my toes. The rest of the ride would prove to be much more comfortable. Toward the end of the day, we encountered my favorite rest stop. Each day, there were four rest stops (in addition to lunch) staffed by “roadie” volunteers. The team that staffed Rest Stop Four spent months in preparation, planning out the themes, costumes, and sets. This day, they re-created a life size version of the mobile game Angry Birds with elaborate costumes, a trampoline and slingshot, and a wall of cardboard boxes and green pig cutouts. It was hilarious.

Day 5 (June 9, 2011): Santa Maria to Lompoc, 40.2 miles
On day 5, the 2,300 riders symbolically created a giant red ribbon by all dressing in red… dresses. Yes, this entire day is a giant drag queen show. From flight attendants to Japanese schoolgirls, the effort and attention put into the costumes and outfits were unbelievable or, on the other hand, entirely expected. I also participated and wore a red dress provided by a friend but, unfortunately, no photos were taken. ;)

Day 6 (June 10, 2011): Lompoc to Ventura, 88.1 miles
By this point of the ride, I was in pain. Both of my knees were feeling the strain of the heavy riding and twisting to clip in and out of my pedals hundreds of times per day. That being said, the finish line was in sight and a little pain wasn’t going to slow me down. Back in camp that night, all of the riders and roadies participated in a candlelight vigil on the beach. In silence, we made a massive circle, each holding our own candle. In the darkness, the pinpoints of light represented all of those people who were no longer with us. We then walked toward the ocean and extinguished each flame. It was a powerful conclusion on our final night together.

Day 7 (June 11, 2011): Ventura to Los Angeles, 63.3 miles
With excitement running high, knowing that my parents had driven down from San Francisco to meet me at the finish line, I awoke on Saturday at 3:30 in the morning eager to get on my bike. After trying and failing to fall back asleep, packing up my tent, braving the chilly moisture in the air, and eating breakfast, I headed back out to the beach where we conducted the vigil the night before. From 6:00-7:00am, I participated in yoga stretching and mediation with Chokae, a fantastic instructor, whose sign read: “Yoga here! Namaste bitches!” About fifteen minutes into our stretching, wild dolphins started jumping out of the water about 200 yards off the beach right behind Chokae. If you know my history and spiritual connection with these amazing animals, you won’t find it at all surprising that I burst into tears feeling the full weight of the significance of the week. I fully felt the exhaustion that comes with waking up before 5:00am each morning after sleeping on the ground; the daily challenge of the bike ride; the meaningful connections that I had made with so many new friends; and the weight of the stories that they told me of loss, rejection, isolation, and yet the incredible feeling of hope and progress that we have gradually been achieving in terms of HIV/AIDS and LGBT civil rights over the past thirty years. On the final morning of the ride, the dancing dolphins brought this all home for me.


Thank you so much for joining me in this journey. I know that I have been incredibly enriched by the experience, and all the more so because it was something that I did with your help. Where do we go from here? Join the fight for civil rights for the LGBT community. Participate in the AIDS Lifecycle as a rider or roadie in the future, or simply continue to donate to this cause. Support the San Francisco AIDS Foundation and Los Angeles Gay and Lesbian Center. Continue to listen, do your best to understand those who are different than yourself, and love everyone who strives to be the truest version of him or her self. Together we will continue to make progress and create a far more just world. Maybe thirty years from now, will have achieved our goal and the AIDS Lifecycle won’t be necessary anymore.

With love,
Danny