Over the last several weeks, I’ve been completing a 50/50 bike challenge. Whereas I normally receive a lot of support on social media for my outdoor and public interest endeavors like Yosemite Facelift, this time has been a little different. The challenge is Ride Against Racism and I’ve actually received some veiled criticism for my participation. Maybe there’s cause for the criticism? Or maybe rock climbing photos are scenic and uncontroversial and racism is unpleasant? Since mid-October, I’ve had a lot of time on my bike to think about it.
The Goal
The 50/50 challenge goal is to ride 50,000’ of gain in the 50 days following October 15th and raise money for the Washoe tribe in Nevada and awareness about inclusion in the outdoors. Matt Niswonger, editor of Adventure Sports Journal started the challenge and has enlisted about 25 mountain bikers, mostly from the Santa Cruz area to join. (His particular cause is to help the Washoe tribe silence a siren that sounds everyday at 6pm in Minden, Nevada. For Native Americans in the area, it’s a reminder of a pre-70s ordinance that required non-whites to leave Minden by sundown; by the time the siren sounded, members of the Washoe tribe knew they should be inside, at home. While the town says the siren is a tribute to first responders, the reality is it traumatizes Native Americans in the area who lived through the after-dark ordinance era; whose story is more important?) To date, we’ve raised over $1000.
First ride, October 17, 2020
The criticism
Ride Against Racism: Isn’t that just performative? How can riding your bike be anti-racist? Aren’t you still just a privileged white person, riding your bike? Wouldn’t your time be better spent actually fighting racism? I can sense these questions because I had the same questions myself as I started the challenge in October. I can also feel the criticism in the subtly snarky, icy comments I received from a few of my white-collared, able-bodied, white male friends (“If you don’t finish, does that mean you’re racist?”) and a girlfriend brave enough to ask, when we rode together one Sunday in Incline Village: what does it actually mean to ride against racism? (Thank you for asking that, by the way.) It wasn’t even until ride 18 and Matt’s urging that we title our rides with the cause (so people knew what we were doing), that I myself was brave enough to start naming the rides what they were on my Strava account: Riding Against Racism #18. (Previously, I had been calling the rides “RAR.” RAR #3, RAR #8, RAR #17: so only people paying attention, in the know would actually know this was an anti-racism challenge.)
Alpine Road
The evolution of my thoughts
We should call things what they are, by their right name. I am riding against racism. My rides for the last 50 days have been: against racism. What does this mean? Well, most obviously, I’m raising money with the aim of promoting inclusion in the outdoors. And less obviously: it matters to say I’m riding against racism. Over the course of the challenge, my own thoughts about the value and purpose of “riding against racism” have evolved. I’ve realized that what we do and say, matters. There is actually power in saying we’re doing something for a cause because it brings awareness to and makes people think about that cause. Riding against racism is actually fighting racism. And this challenge has been hard! I am not a cyclist; before October, I had ridden less than 10,000’ of gain total in my short (since March) cycling career. Now, over my last 27 rides, I’ve ridden 44,217’ and 304 miles.
27 Rides
In the final days of the challenge, a friend and partner of Yosemite Facelift passed away after a 48-day-long battle with COVID-19. Her passing gave new meaning to the challenge for me. On my bike, I had been thinking about racism and privilege and barriers to entry for BIPOC to the outdoors and whether what I was doing mattered and what else I could do to make a difference. After Abana’s passing, it became so painfully clear to me how incredibly privileged I’ve been to be able to shelter myself physically and financially from the cruelest realities of the COVID-19 crisis. I had known this before, of course, in some cerebral sense, but I really started feeling it. As Matt said, “no other way to say this: Abana was Black.” Abana had a white-collar job and I don’t know the specifics about her illness, but it’s a fact that BIPOC communities will be disproportionately impacted by the COVID-19 crisis because of service and healthcare worker demographics. While my white friends are “working from home” on climbing trips in the desert, people working at stores and in hospitals don’t have that privilege; they have to expose themselves to COVID-19 risks and danger in public, everyday. Once I really “got this,” it seemed so selfish to consider getting on a plane unnecessarily or eating in a restaurant.
Abana Jacobs
(I’m having a difficult time expressing this because my purpose isn’t to alienate anyone who’s eaten in a restaurant or gotten on a plane or who isn’t doing a 50/50 anti-racism bike riding challenge. We all have different risk tolerances and enjoy whatever luxuries our lives present. (This seems to be the human condition! and self-interest is imperative for the survival of the species.) I have taken risks that are unnecessary and frivolous during this pandemic. And bike riding against racism may actually be silly and less worthwhile than other pursuits.)
Summary
I am so grateful for this challenge. My thinking about anti-racism and how to promote it has evolved over the course of my rides. If I weren’t riding against racism, I wouldn’t be doing anything against racism (other than the usual relationship I have with racism: sitting at home, drinking wine, thinking racism is awful and pondering the things I don’t understand about it, occasionally sharing a horrific news story on social media), especially during a pandemic where social gathering is dangerous. This 50/50 challenge has made me physically stronger and I feel less powerless about this thing—racism—that I know exists, but that I don’t quite understand. The time I’ve spent on my bike (40+ hours since October 17th as of writing this on November 27th) has allowed me to crystallize my thoughts about my privilege: the incredible privilege of having the time to spend riding for leisure, not to mention having health insurance as a safety net and the disposable income to buy a bike, helmet, shorts, lights, tubes, tires, a pump, snacks, jackets, and on and on. I’ve realized that we really do have to be against racism—be anti-racist—and say that we are to begin to be a part of the solution: normalize anti-racism.
And, I know there’s room here for criticism. I’m incredibly uncomfortable with the idea I might say the wrong thing or hurt someone with my ignorance about this topic. I have an obligation to educate myself and minimize my ignorance; I want to understand more and do better.
There’s still time to donate to our Ride Against Racism challenge! Click here for my fundraising page.