What's wrong with this picture? by N. Helene Carlson Last year when two friends, Alan and Kelly, told me they were doing the 2001 DC AIDS Ride, I admired their dedication and promised them my financial support. I was not a serious biker and had never considered pedaling over 10 miles on any given day. Alan was an expert biker who had done six previous AIDS Rides. Kelly, however, had never ridden a bike before, but after serving on the crew of a previous AIDS Ride, she was determined to ride the distance, and Alan was determined to prepare her. Their combined enthusiasm and dedication overwhelmed me. Before I knew it, we were all buying “real” biking gear for the ride.

Pallotta TeamWorks provided preparatory materials, and the Ride Guide contained extensive direction on training, ride preparation and fundraising. We began training by riding several miles a day; further on weekends. By May, I was riding 25 miles a day by commuting to work on my bike. In June, we held fundraisers and raised over $3000 each. 

The three of us and our bikes arrived in Raleigh, NC, on June 19. Having worked in advertising prior to changing careers, I was amazed by Pallotta's motivational marketing techniques. The presentation was inspiring. It made me believe that what I was about to do was not only possible, but phenomenal! I was really going to succeed at this—all 330 miles—thanks to the guidance and knowledge provided by Pallotta.

Day One: Up at 3:30 a.m. and ready for opening ceremonies at 5:00 a.m. Alan led the the pack with the pros. Kelly and I lagged behind as slow but steady pedalers. It was tough - the hills of North Carolina, the hot, black asphalt, 100 degree heat. After a 101 grueling miles, we felt no shame in riding the “poop wagon” into camp that night. 

Day Two: A bit of a slow start, but we were determined to match the progress of Day One. Kelly was a slower, more paced rider, and I would periodically ride ahead and wait for her. Just before the lunch, I made a quick rest stop at the general store and told Kelly I would catch up.

I never did.

After leaving the store in Petersburg, Virginia, I got back on the route. I made the right turn at the corner and headed down a slight grade. Two children were standing on the side of the road “high-fiving” riders. Although I have no memory of the incident, riders behind me reported that I responded to the "high-five" offer of one of the children, a young boy who apparently held onto my hand a bit too long. At the speed I was traveling, the clasp was enough to turn my upper torso to the right and cause the front wheel of my bike to turn sharply. I catapulted over the handlebars, landed on my head and lost consciousness. The two riders behind me were nurses. They applied first aid until the ambulance arrived. 

Meanwhile, Kelly had arrived at the lunch tent and became concerned when she saw my bike on top of an AIDS Ride vehicle. She alerted officials who took her to the Regional Medical Center in a nearby town to search for me. 

I regained consciousness inside an MRI machine, but quickly lost it again. My next memory is that of being in the emergency room hearing Kelly converse with the patient next to me, a fellow rider, who had also been injured, suffering a broken arm and several loose teeth. The impact had broken my collar bone and several ribs. My pelvis and lower back were injured. I was unable to walk.

Pallotta had not prepared me for this. In retrospect, Pallotta TeamWorks told me very little about safe riding practices. The 68-page Ride Guide is filled with inspirational photos and words designed to recruit riders and teach them fundraising techniques. Incredibly, less than ONE page is devoted to instructing participants on safe riding habits.

The Safety Briefing in Raleigh was promoted as critical—riders can’t officially register or receive a tent token unless they are wearing the bright orange wristband that verifies they have attended the briefing. 

I attended the briefing. It was basically a promotional piece featuring Dan Pallotta recruiting riders for other “new and improved” rides, like biking Africa. Riders who had seen the briefing in previous years complained that this year's briefing was even less informative than earlier versions. The new version featured stick figures performing hand signals and no longer represented real accident scenarios or advised riders of ways to avoid them.

During the safety briefing, one of the participants inquired about a rider who reportedly was injured during the 2000 AIDS Ride. The speaker acknowledged the incident, but offered no explanation about the circumstances or how the accident could have been avoided. I later learned that the accident occurred in virtually the same location as mine and, like mine, had involved interaction with a child. The briefing warned of the dangers of riding on gravel, a warning which we all heeded. But had I been similarly warned of the dangers of interacting with spectators, I would not have reached out to touch the child by the side of the road. 

While I was in the hospital, Kelly called the AIDS Ride 800-number and asked that an announcement be made at the dinner meeting for witnesses to my accident to contact me. Such an announcement, we were told, was not possible as it might "scare other riders."

I was prepared to put the accident behind me until I saw a 2002 AIDS Ride poster which pictured a rider preparing to "high-five" a young spectator along the bike route. It instantly occurred to me that the poster, like the nominal "safety" briefing and materials provided by Pallotta TeamWorks, demonstrated the promoter's blatant disregard for the hazards associated with an event such as the AIDS Ride. The company's rhetorical approach to safety is made even more dangerous by its practice of hiding incidents where riders have suffered serious injury in the past. These are experiences and lessons learned that may prevent injury to future riders.

An additional disappointment was the behavior of Palotta TeamWorks once I was injured. While volunteer AIDS Ride crew did a great job getting me to a hospital, I heard NOTHING from Palotta TeamWorks or AIDS Ride staff after being dropped at the emergency room. Only after the wonderful people at Food and Friends wrote a letter to Steve Bennett, president of Pallotta, expressing their disappointment in Pallotta's apparent lack of concern for event participants did Mr. Bennett call me in the hospital. I had expected more from an organization that purports to be focused on human kindness and the welfare of humanity, and now wonder what Pallotta's true motivation really is.

I have learned three interesting facts since my accident:

1) the injured rider in the emergency room next to me heard nothing from Pallotta either;

2) there were approximately ten other riders injured in the same general location and on the same day as my accident occurred; and,

3) standard practice seems to be that all accident-related paperwork was allegedly sent to Pallotta TeamWorks headquarters in Los Angeles and locked away.

In order to keep future riders from suffering the same injuries I did, I contacted Pallotta TeamWorks in January asking that they make appropriate resisions to their safety policies and practices. My first registered letter was refused, and Mr. Bennett never responded to the second, which was received by his office.

It is my opinion that a few individuals at Pallotta TeamWorks are amassing personal fortunes by promoting and managing events intended to prevent major health problems and/or reduce the suffering among those afflicted with these illnesses. However, in the pursuit of their goal, they have demonstrated a consistent and purposeful disregard for the safety of those who voluntarily join their cause, and a blatant lack of concern for those of us who are injured in the process.

My ribs have healed and weeks of physical therapy helped me walk normally again. My clavicle, however, is permanently separated and will require surgery. But the physical pain was easier to deal with than the mental impact. Brain damage presented the greatest challenge - as it was invisible, but it had the most profound effect on my life. Attention deficit and memory retrieval problems made routine tasks much more difficult, and it has taken months to overcome the extreme fatigue associated with daily life. In many ways, I lost a year of my life, and it wasn't necessary. Accidents happen, but mine could have been prevented by Palotta TeamWorks with just simple, responsible information sharing.

(03/19/02)