This ride has been a gift I gave myself.

We left Ventura Beach at 7:00 a.m. and rode along the coast. It was cold and
foggy. The beach met the Pacific Coast Highway where the Santa Monica Mountains meet the Pacific. We cycled through a rock gorge and then there
were cliffs on the left and the world- famous Malibu Beach on the right. We are getting closer to Los Angeles.

Malibu Beach. It is so exciting! Some of the beach homes are very impressive,
but others just lined up like row houses. PCH: Pacific Coast Highway. 27 miles
of Malibu Beach. It is getting brighter. The sun will shine on our finish after all.

Entering Santa Monica. Riding along San Vicente, I realise I am getting a flat tire.
It is going soft. I must have picked up something on the highway. I have had two other flats. One I pumped up a few times and limped into a pit stop and the other,
a nice guy named Brandon (from L.A. and Ohio before that) stopped and helped me change it. Well, actually HE changed it.

I see my new friend Richie Berlin and tell her my tire is going flat.
"Let go of it and give it to God", she barks. I laugh, thinking it's not so bad,
just a flat. I make it to the last pit stop and let them change it.
(Isn't that kind of me?)

It is very hot and sunny now. Tire changed, I cycle into the holding area at 3.15 p.m. on Saturday, Day SEVEN, 575 miles south of San Francisco. I am hot and tired and most satisfied with myself. Mission accomplished.

The ceremonial ride into the park in from of the L.A. Coliseum is very emotional.
A sea of red "victory" shirts and riders as far back as one can see. I am near the front. What a week! What a ride. Life IS Good. We raised $12 million U.S.!!!!
Pat Christen, Executive Director of the San Francisco AIDS Foundation, gave a very moving retrospective of our week battling AIDS.

After the ride, I pick up my 50 lb canvas gear bag and wait for my ride.
A volunteer promised to drive me to my hotel. I wait and wait in the hot sun.
After 45 minutes, I give in to that sinking feeling that he isn't going to show up.
I hoist my bag up onto my bike and wobble down to where the sign says "Taxi".
As I turn, I see taxis about a block or so down and then this huge crowd.
There must be 300 people waiting for taxis. I was struggling with the bag and
bike and I certainly don't need THIS.

As my bike starts to falls, a blonde volunteer is driving by in a pickup truck.
"Do you need help", he asks. "Actually, I do" and I try to smile. He stops,
picks up my bike and then my bag and stows them in the back.
"Now, where do you need to go."

I thank him profusely for "rescuing" me. He introduces himself as David and
then when we stop at a light, he turns and says "you don't have to thank ME,
you just rode almost 600 miles from San Francisco. You have been riding for
a whole week. This is a big thing you just did. This is the least I can do.
Thank YOU for riding."

Not only did he drive me to motel, but he waited until I had cleaned up and then
took me out and bought me a delicious dinner. Welcome to Los Angeles.