So today began our last morning.
Last night we held a candle-light vigil on the beach in Ventura, which was gorgeous if nothing else - candles are always poignant and they hold so much...significance. What with all of the metaphors you can come up with for flames and burning brightly/burning out/burning low/burning strong (can you tell I'm in college? =), candles make some of the most meaningful symbols of life, death, and everything in between. So imagine the sight of over two thousand people on a dark beach with only a candle apiece. We lit up the night.
I don't personally know any single person who is HIV-positive. My ex-boyfriend's good friend died at 16 and there's a girl in the community that one of my college friends grew up in who was born with AIDS (and is now 12, I believe) so I've always told myself that I'm riding for them, but during the vigil last night I realized that I don't have anybody to cry for. And I know this sounds odd, but I want someone to cry for. Moral of the story: I need to start volunteering with HIV/AIDS organizations in SB.
We rode along PCH for almost all of today. Our last day is also, in my opinion, the most dagnerous day. We're all exhausted and in a hurry to get to the end of the road, and we're on this crazy beach highway on a Saturday morning/afternoon. It's not really anybody's fault, it's just a stressful stretch of road. We all made it out alive though, despite the police officer who decided t opull over in the middle of the bike lane and endanger at least 50 oncoming cyclists by pushing us out into traffic...(Me? Bitter? Noooo =)
And then we finally reached our destination: the VA Center in LA. It was amazing to ride in today - so many people were out to cheer us on, so many faces you start to recognize over the seven days; the viagra man, the 'norte california/sorte california' man, Ginger/Ric, Lorri, Mark, 'mom and dad'. All of these people have been with us on the road every day and have cheered us every mile of every route...and they're wonderful and deserve mucho kudos for their part in this whole affair.
My dad drove down from Seattle for closing ceremonies (because he's extremely awesome) and I have cousins in Santa Monica, so I met up with them after closing ceremonies. Angie's brother, sister, and niece were there t ocheer us in, which was exciting and fabulous in itself...but it was weird to go seperate ways. I don't think I've not been around her for more than ten minutes at a time (no joke) in the last seven days. And while we definitely get on each other's last nerves, I kinda feel like I'm forgetting to do something, like I need to say good night or something.
But that's the ALC life - you come, you make amazing memories and build a community that surpasses anything you will ever find anywhere else, and then you leave trying to believe that this kind of world is possible, even though we're not there yet.
I don't know if anyone will read this post. The ride is over, we're all back with our families, our friends, our selves. We might be on the ride next year, we might not...it's always a gamble.
But...
-if you rode and you're reading this; I understand. We're missing something. We're frusterated that the world isn't what we've been experiencing in the last seven days. We haven't yet fallen back into the just-a-little-less-friendly world of reality. We're still used to saying good morning to random people and waving at everyone and being nice at 6 am when noone's even really awake yet.
-if you roadied and you're reading this; take a load off. You guys have been working just as hard if not harder than us for more than a week and getting about half as much credit from the public. You have cleaned up after us, cooked for us, and most of all, been nice to us when we're in "cranky bitch" mode. Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.
-if you KNOW someone who just rode/roadied and you're reading this; give us time. We're reeling, we're confused, we're adjusting. We're trying to makes sense of the world we thought we knew and are now re-seeing.
Ugh. I didn't really want to do a sappy email. It seems so cliche; thank the people, yada yada. I like surprising people, not doing the 'normal' thing. Eh, too late for that.
I leave you with some of the words to the song that Lois? Elaine? (I can't remember her name for the life of me) sang at the talent show and got happily stuck in all of our heads:
One of the verses: Oy my rear! The skin is off...have to treat it like a bagel with a shmear.
The chorus: We will ride for others, lost friends and brothers, to be alive in twenty-fiiiive!
Here's hoping. For what, I don't konw exactly. But I'm in the mood to hope, so I think that's where I'll leave it.