Day Five - Santa Maria to Lompoc - "Dress Red Day"

Today was supposed to be easy. There were only 44 miles to cover. There were a couple climbs as I recalled, one in particular up to Vandenburg AFB, but everybody thought this day would be a breeze, so we took our time getting ready.

Glen and I slept in. When we got up we, and everybody else had a surprise. As soon as we jostled the tent, we were showered with the moisture that had condensed during the night. THAT has not previously happened before.

Glen slipped into a red sequinned gown that he had made himself. I had no idea how he was going to ride in that. I bit the bullet and borrowed his spare red tutu. I had sworn that I would never wear a dress on Red Dress Day, but it's become such a pervasive activity that snubbing it would seem to be almost intolerant. Mind you, I HAVE always worn red on "Dress Red Day", but I just had not "gone all the way!.

We went to breakfast where Glen was the "belle of the ball". Another guy even shot Glen daggers because they were both wearing the same material, but Glen's outfit was obviously more "fabulous". Meow!

Glen and I stretched with the class for a little bit then got out of camp around 8:00, which was quite late by MY standards! The last rider needs to be on the road by 8:30, but we did not think we were risking anything.

The first pit was only 9 miles away. Glen decided spend some time at the first pit, but it closed 30 minutes before the sign said it would. We had spent quite a bit of time there though. Next stop would be Casmalia, the defining stop of my ride four years ago.

I had not remembered that there was going to be quite a lot of climbing before we got to Casmalia. I was QUITE glad to be make there and was anxious to get some of the barbeque. I did not even bother with the actual pit stop, just a couple blocks down the single Casmalian road.

There was a dance party going on in front of the Post Office as I waited. I knew I was going to really need this "fuel" to make it up what would become "officially" known as "That Effing Hill" (or "That F***ing Hill"). But at quarter to 12 we were told that there was no barbeque ready right now. There might be some ready in 10 minutes, BUT the pit closes in 15 minutes. If the barbecue was late and we STILL wanted it, we would be sagged to camp. Now, it was decision time.

They had not really given me enough time to make it to the Pit down the street to get something to eat. I had a heinous hill to climb and if I wait, there might not be any thing to eat. I was FURIOUS, but it was really nobody's fault.

The town of Casmalia probably did not expect as many riders as we had. The ride is not responsible for the fundraiser. The communications were just a little bit mal-timed.

So, I decided that I would go on. I still had a couple snacks from the previous pit stop, There was enough water in my CamelBak. I was going to try it! I did not remember what ACTUALLY came next....

Before the F***ing Hill, there was another shorter steeper hill, definitely another "oh HELL no!" moment. People were crawling up this one. I was trying to conserve my energy and control my fury at what had happened in Casmalia. As I was making my way up this heinous hill another rider passed and said (in his best Viking imitation) "Tonight, we dine in HELL!" At least they will have food there.

Almost at the top of this hill sat Ginger Brewley, decked out in red, with at large red sun hat. She had water in the van, but nothing to snack on. But that was okay, she said something that was quite remarkable and humbling..

She said, "Honey, if you want to see something inspiring, just look down the hill. Look at that ribbon of red! I am truly honored to be among all of you heroes today!" Wow! That was actually the purpose of "Dress Red Day - to look like a red ribbon along the road.

I was still upset about the snafu in Casmalia, but if I had gotten there earlier, this would not have been a problem. We could have left camp earlier and we might not have stayed as long at Pit One as we did. Lesson learned.

"That F***ing Hill" loomed ahead of us. I snarfed down the rest of the snacks I had with me and a tube of Gu, before I started my climb. It was remarkable just how fast the valley below us sank! I was really getting tired about halfway up. This was the only "Oh HELL no!" hill that I did not actually ride all the way up. I had to get off the bike and walk about a quarter of a mile. It beats bonking and definitely beats getting sagged!

We passed in front of the gates of Vandenburg AFB, red dresses and all! They did not ask....they did not have to. We did not tell....we did not have to.

Then, it was a fast trip to the lunch pit. NOW I could take my time. It was only about 6 miles to camp and the route closed at 3:00, so I was not going to have to rush anything and I was going to be "fueled up"!

I saw a guy there (one of the 20 that I was always running into). I should have gotten a picture of him. This guy looked and acted very straight, but he was unashamedly wearing a red dress. I figured he was breaking stereotypes whatever his orientation was. He did not look gay, but he had no problem with the dress. I should have asked him, but it really did not make any difference.

And while we're on about this this time, stickers were beginning to show up more frequently. Many people wore them on their helmets. Basically, they were to identify whether the wearer was from L.A. or S.F. (leaving no other possibility), Gay or Straight, Available, Taken, or Negotiable. The aforementioned guy was not wearing a sticker.

I got into camp with plenty of time to spare. The gear trucks were mere steps away from the tents. What could be better than that! It was rather hot though and even though we are advised to NOT nap in the tents in the sun, I did, but I kept my CamelBak with me and I hydrated frequently.

I grabbed my shower, and actually had a chance to check the Ride computers for messages on the AIDS LifeCycle website. I had messages from several people, including Mikey. So I quickly text-messaged him a note to let him know I was thinking about him too. Jamie had sent me a note as well. That is when it dawned on my that Jamie would know what to do about a shin splint, so I phoned him and left a voice message.

I warned Glen that it gets really chilly in Lompoc at night, even though it was really warm in the afternoon. I related that I had bought my pullover here four years ago because it had gotten so darned cold then. That advice paid off later. It got REALLY chilly very quickly.

We picked out a place to eat that was close to the stage for the evening presentations. But it was also at one of the outer tables on the far side of the tent. It got windy and cool. I had my dinner, which consisted of not only chicken (which was uncharacteristically juicy), but beef and pasta and a slice of pie. When I finished that, I told Glen that that had not been enough. I went back for not just seconds, but and entire second dinner. Well, the next day was going to be 85 miles and I was going to give myself every chance of making each of those miles!

The presentations started. At one point, a female officer of the California Highway Patrol took the stage. She had just been introduced when there was a commotion on our side of the tent. People were pointing to the sky at a rocket that had just been launched from Vandenburg. Of COURSE, everything came to a grinding halt while we watched.

The upstaged officer resumed. She told us that we were going to be out on the road tomorrow with motorists who were NOT going to be happy to see us there. They have to live in Lompoc because the average price of a house in Santa Barbara is $1 million, so they commute an hour each way. That's a heck of a thing to be told!

A couple girls had sat down close to us at the table. One of them made an observation that I had never considered. She said that the girls put as much into Red Dress Day as the guys, but that THEY don't get any credit for it. They rolled their eyes when somebody onstage recounted the trouble that some of the straight guys had gone to get the right purse for the belt and the dress. I have to admit, the girls did get shafted, but still, there were so many really ingenious costumes: the "Heroes" cheerleaders; the Cowgirls, who put cleats on their boots so they could still ride; the people who put cleats on their red platform shoes. It looked like some of these costumes were under consideration and construction all year long!

This night would be no different except that I had a little bit of trouble getting back to sleep. Fortunately, I had brought my iPod and had loaded it with lots of spoken word files. The biography of Helen Keller was enough to distract my subsoncious mind from whatever was bothering it. I had the BEST sleep of the ride after that!

That was good. Day Six is not the toughest day of the ride, but 85 miles is still quite a ways to ride on any day. I was going to need the rest. It paid off!