1500 riders, 4 days, 350 miles, 1 causeway, thats what the motto said for the 1997 Raleigh to DC AIDS Ride (a cross country bicycle rally/fund raiser) Little did I know I would also spend four days totally immersed in the best of the human spirit!!
Last year some friends of mine participated in the Philadelphia to D.C. AIDS Ride, and they claimed it was one of the most importantand most memorableevents of their lives. Hearing their experiences, and knowing that the ride coordinators invited massage therapists along as crew members, I decided last summer that I would participate in this years event.
After registering as a crew member, and chatting with Joe Levy, the co-manager of the massage crew, I mentioned that I drove a motorcycle. I was hoping I could bring it along. As it turned out, the Ride utilizes motorcyclistsheretofore known as bikersfor route security. Since that crew was short-staffed, and the massage crew overflowing, they asked if I would switch to the biker crew. I agreed to serve wherever I was most needed, but I also knew that somehow I would squeeze in time in the massage tent.
After nearly fifteen years of biking, I was about to participate in my first biker gang! The biker crew, numbering in the twenties, was divided into six groups, and I was in the first group. I would be spending most of my time with the front pack of the bicyclists, a.k.a. ridersalthough really serious riders are called spoke-heads.
Day one was a 112 mile trek to Lawrenceville, Virginia. I arrived at the camp along with the first group of riders, then headed back out to a particularly gruesome hill seven miles from camp. Upon my arrival, I was greeted by an elderly woman who, having read about the ride, was stationed at the top of the hillcameras in towshooting pictures of the riders and shouting encouragement.
After a while, I headed back to the camp to help the 40 member massage crew, the bodyworkers. They could have easily doubled that number and still not have touched each and every rider needing bodywork. We massaged each one about twenty minutes, focusing on areas where the rider felt the greatest need. Having just peddled 112 miles, spokehead or not, they mostly needed some work on their thighs. Massage generally lasted throughout the evening to about ten or eleven oclock. Each evening a rider appeared to serenade us on the mandolin (magic was afoot!). This first evening, I headed off to my tent, rolled out my bed roll, and spent the night tossing and turning, sleeping on the lumpy ground.
Day two began; I arose and headed across the field towards the food tent, passing by the massage tent, and noticed each of the other bodyworkers sleeping soundly on their massage tables! Valuable lesson number one: when camping, if you have your massage table, sleep on it!!
The biker crew had agreed to meet at 6:00 a.m. to discuss the days strategies. I requested to bike ahead as the front man so that I might be able to continue my work at the massage tent during the afternoons and evenings. As it turns out, spokeheads seem to be a rather adventurous sort, so as the biker crew was strategizing, we noticed the riders had already begun to head out (they were not supposed to head out until 6:30!), and I hadnt even finished my coffee!!
My own special moments included a massage session on day three with a 19 year old young man who clearly had a body designed for physical adventure. He complained of shoulder soreness and had experienced some swelling in his right knee the day before (which had been checked out by the medical staff). The swelling was minimal, but cautionary for massage nonetheless. I worked first on his shoulders, and then began some light work on his thigh in the hopes that this might bring some relief to his knee, during which he began to sink into a deep altered state. A voice in my head said, "Do Reiki." (Reiki is an energy modality which does not involve physically manipulating any tissues). About three minutes into the Reiki work, the young mans whole body trembled. Another therapist happened to be watching and said, "Did you see that!?!" I felt it. I then finished with some massage on the opposite thigh and asked my client to roll over to begin some work on the back of the thighs. To which he responded, "Arent you going to work on my right thigh thats the one that was swollen?" I explained, to his surprise, that I had already. Once finished, he jumped from the table, exclaiming that he never felt better. I saw him at breakfast the next morning and at the end of the ride and he was absolutely beaming with joy at having finished the ride so well with no further complaints from his shoulders or knee.
My favorite experience (if I have to choose one) occurred on day four, the final day of travels. I had already biked into the final holding area at the Pentagon and decided to double back to the last pit stop to make sure everything was still running smoothly. As I began heading down a steep hill in Alexandria, Virginia, I noticed a group of riders who consistently had finished in the top twenty. They were all getting off their bicycles. I tooted my horn and gave them the thumbs up sign, which they returned. Had they returned a thumbs down, it would have been my responsibility to ascertain the nature of their dilemma and seek appropriate assistance. As such, I continued on. I stayed at the pit stop for half an hour or so and began biking back. When I reached the hill again (by now at least and hour and a half had passed) the same riders were there. Again, they gave me the thumbs up. I then noticed they were cheering all the other riders up the hill. I was so moved, my eyes filled with tears.
The rides were amazing on many levels. First, the amazing feat of moving a camp which serves some 2000 individuals. The camps included shower trucks, kitchen trucks, porta- toilets, tents, chairs, tables, a stage, bike standsit was awesome. Each camp was its own kind of party environment. Nightly entertainment was provided (including a talent show of riders and crew members). And we had our own celebrities: Thirteen riders were doing all five of the AIDS rides, as well as the group of HIV+ riders known as the "Positive Peddlers." The most notable individual, however, is a gentleman known as "The Chicken Lady." Chicken Lady wears wonderful costumes and carries a huge purse shaped like a chicken. A California native, and one of the thirteen riders riding in all the rides, he was known to greet everyone at the breakfast tent in curlers, fluffy slippers, and a large bathrobe!
The AIDS Rides are not races. They are, however, challenges. Each of the 1500 riders took upon themselves a challenge to complete the 350 miles. Each of the 200 or so crew members also took upon themselves a challenge. The miracles are many. They are often small, sometimes astonishing. It made me feel extraordinarily human. The camaraderie that developed between riders was evident, as was the same among the crew members. Not to mention the fact that we helped to raise money for AIDS services, as well as the collective consciousness of the participants, and those of the towns through which the ride traveled.
I had a blast, and cant wait for next year. And next time, Im bringing costumes!!
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7/25/97 Issue. Copyright 1997 by CAMP Rehoboth, Inc. All rights reserved.