Your support means so much to me, my mom, and everyone else living with MS. There is still no cure, and no drug to limit chronic symptoms once they’ve manifested. You are helping us get there. Thank you!
Bike MS Willamette Valley 2019
At the finish!
Buena Vista Park
I sat under the Team Slugfish tent with my face nose-deep in berry cobbler and ice cream. I tried to chat with another team member when a high-pitched voice on loudspeaker told us the evening program would be delayed due to a rider still out on the route. Then she urged us to go to the finish line so we could cheer her in. People gathered at the finish line, not far from our tent. I looked at my watch. It was nearly 6:30. The course maps made very clear that the route closed at 5pm and that there’d be no support afterwards. I shrugged at all the people passing me. I’ll just politely cheer from my table, thank you very much. I rode so slowly my first several MS rides that I wanted to paste a sign on my back that said, “Yes I’m ok, I’m just slow.” I remember those final hours: smelling the truck exhaust from vehicles waiting for me to pass so they could pack up the rest stops. No one cheered my finish when I came in so late. I’d just roll into a quiet road with a few volunteers taking down decorations. But then someone urged me to get up, so I did. I guess there’s no reason to deny this finisher cheers just because I’m tired and bitter! As I folded into the crowd, I began to feel the energy. OK, so this last person out on the route is riding her very first century. OK, it makes sense now. The first century is the hardest. It was a hot and humid day out. The weather got pretty miserable in the afternoon, but she didn’t give up. Her first century. Then they tell us that this woman riding her first century is also a rider with MS. That’s what we are all about. I glanced around at the crowd. “She’s 3 minutes away,” the loudspeaker announced. Even though many faces showed the tired we all felt after riding a long, hard, hot, emotional route, there was still this unmistakable anticipation. We felt the combined urgency to share the joy steeping underneath the tired. “OK!” the voice on the loudspeaker prompted, “she’s probably getting close, let’s start cheering so she hears us as she comes around the corner!” The claps started, along with the bells, whistles, cheers, hoots and hollers. The entire River Village group stood there, cheering. I started to feel moved. It felt good to clap. But then we kept clapping. And clapping. And she never came. No one stopped, but some people started to look at each other, questioningly. Did we miss her? Did she make a wrong turn? Everyone kept clapping and cheering. I don’t think anyone knew what to do, but no one wanted to be the first to stop. Then. We see a bike turning the corner. The crowd exploded! I saw that she wasn’t alone. A small group of people pedaled down the chute, in a protective, supportive clump. That’s when I lost it. She wasn’t alone. Tears streamed down my face as I clapped. The people around me jumped and screamed like she was a rockstar. As they pedaled in, I expected her to smile from all the cheering. I’ve never heard so much cheering at an MS ride in all my 20 years. But her gaze was fixed forward, he glance unwavering. The determination was still on her face, she needed every last bit. She looked like she could vomit. Her expression brought all the feelings back. All those rides I did where muscles, energy, lungs had long gone and sheer determination was the only thing left pushing you forward. I don’t mean to sound melodramatic or overly severe; it’s hard to capture this amazing feeling in writing. We’ve all been through unsurmountable challenges and came out ahead. It’s the beauty of pain like this. There is some pain that really does make you stronger. No, stronger isn’t the right word. There is some pain that makes you better. Perseverance. Stamina. Bike MS taught me a lot over the years, and I am a better person for it.
My White Bicycle at Buena Vista Park
Sweaty Selfies…
I never would have predicted this years’ ride after last years’ ride. Last year I reached a new personal physical peak. I felt stronger and healthier than I ever had before. This year has been met with a lot of fatigue and an undefined feeling of ick and sluggishness. Perhaps Slugfish is finally a fitting name, except the “f” is a “g” for me. I rode less in July than I had since….since before 2002. I opted to ride the shorter 85 miles ride for Saturday. When the sticky humidity rendered my entire body sweaty after just 20 minutes, I knew I made the right choice. I rode well. But that night I ate too much food and overslept by some 5 or 6 hours.
Bigfoot!
Shoes!
Participation was down by half. The ride had a generic feel to it. The decorations all had this 80’s motif that felt like “the 80’s package” from a corporate party planner store. I loved the days when the Harley riders had Alf and other decor covering their hogs. I loved all the SAG wagons adorned with signs and streamers and honkers and cheering volunteers. Now they are slow driving white vans that make you feel like you are surrounded by the CIA. I loved the decoration contests that each team and rest area participated in. I loved the sandwich lady, who had her own sandwich making assembly line every year. Sure, the catered food is more exotic and classy now, but it doesn’t have the same honorable grass roots feel. I loved the days when each rest area had is own unique array of snacks, usually promoting local brands and foods. I loved the ride-specific jerseys with their awesome designs. However, I did find bigfoot this year! I also rode by fence of shoes, so there is still a little bit of “Oregon” left in the Oregon ride!
Bike MS 2018 Foothills to Foothills Monmouth Oregon
Give MS the Boot! Stomp MS! Our sole purpose! Thanks, John, for the pun overload!
Friday Amtrak delays meant I arrived to Rider Village in Monmouth too late for dinner. I filled up with hard kombucha and wine at the free bottomless beer garden. That counts as carbo loading, right? Saturday I rode 98.6 miles and the temperatures were perfect (coincidence?) The valley spared us the heat, headwinds, and thick smoke of last year. The route took us through rural Willamette Valley, including Ankeny Wildlife Refuge (they’re renovating the viewpoints!), Jefferson (the “big city” near my first-grade home), Scio (covered bridge capitol of the west), farmlands including a trees-as-biofuels research site and a creepy “quiet qarden” that boasted such loud birdsong that it had to be fake, and the tiny Buena Vista ferry. I finished in plenty of time to get my free massage and eat 2 dinners (pizza from the mouthwatering Yeasty Beasty and spaghetti feed with berry cobbler from the catered buffet). Evening entertainment included Star Wars movies, popcorn and candy in the park, but my tired self skipped all that in favor of sleep.
Videos of the Ride
This is the ride that started it all for me. I didn’t even know what padded shorts were the first time I bike for MS. I did the whole thing on a rusty Schwinn mountain bike at about 9mph. I finished after the route closed and cried the last 30 miles just trying to get to the end. Now I’m a top fundraiser, average about 15mph and finish ready for more. I still cry a lot. These days I might ride more miles, climb more feet, or face greater dangers on other rides, but Bike MS is reliably my most challenging ride every year. This is one weekend where hundreds of compassionate people touched by this disease rally together spreading support and hope.
On day 2 at the start line microphone, a person with MS read a poem about their experience, leaving the entire crowd with leaking eyeballs. This opened the floodgates for conversation with fellow riders and volunteers the rest of the day. Each person I met had a story to tell. I shared tears with strangers; the woman with MS who rode her first century ever on Saturday, the guy who lost his sister in ’99, the SAG driver whose wife lost her ability to walk in ’08, my teammate who only rode his recumbent the 1 mile loop this year because he didn't get a chance to train, and the young woman who was just diagnosed a few years ago and is scared of her future.
Distance: 150.51 miles over 2 days
Pace: cheerful
Mechanicals: Just the terrifying moment mid-ride that I suddenly thought I put my bike shorts on backwards (I didn’t).
Flats: 0
Wildlife: numerous turkey vultures, hawks, a gopher, a busy barn cat, wandering chickens (do livestock count?), 2 very angry fenced Pitbull’s, and ample roadkill (deer, raccoon, opossum, mice).
New Viewpoint at Ankeny Wildlife Refuge
Photos from the Ride
Food of Bike MS
This is one of the main reasons I do anything. I do it for the food.
