Backside of Forty (archive): bicycling

The iconic American... strong, independent and stalwart. Able to leap tall buildings in a single bound... well, maybe not... but at least able to pull himself up by his bootstraps any time something gets him down, right?

Or... maybe not.

But, with most of those around us walking around wearing their "I'm OK" face, we can easily think we are the only one who feels like we sometimes have problems or shortcomings that are bigger than us. Everyone around us seems to be solving their problems and yanking on their bootstraps... all the while smiling and appearing to need no help from anyone. Why can't we?

Well... more than likely, many of them are looking at you and I and wondering the same thing (and they may not even know what a bootstrap is, for that matter). Because, after all, there is a certain stigma to admitting we may need help to overcome something in our lives. That "something" can take on many different forms, but regardless, the stigma can make someone feel that they are weak if they admit they need help and seek the help they need. The force of that stigma can leave a path of many forms of devastation in it's wake, and the ripples of that devastation ebb outward and touch others... even those who still insist on maintaining their "I'm OK" face.

I am one who is both proud and private... too proud to ask for help or accept it when it's offered, and too private to share honestly with others when I struggle. I smile and try to figure out just how to get ahold of my bootstraps. But, while I choose not to elaborate here (I'm still private), I do have to admit that the past few years have brought some difficulties into my life that have seemed bigger than me. For the first time in my life, I felt like I was faced with things I couldn't just pull myself up from. And, I found myself reaching a point where I began to ignore some of the stigmas and begin to seek and accept some help, in a number of forms, which required me to cast aside at least some (not yet all) of my former pride. I also reached a point where I began to confide some of these struggles to a very few close friends and family members, which required me to cast off some (not yet all) of my former privacy.

And, you know what?

I don't think any of these people who care about me thought any less of me for it.

And, you know what else?

I found out that when I took a risk and opened up to them that, in some cases, their life wasn't as buttoned-up as the image they cast.

But, this blog post isn't really about me and my struggles (see, there's that privacy thing, again!)

Enter: Larry Davis...

Larry's "something" was a many-year struggle with depression. Larry finally reached a crisis point in his struggle that he realized that he needed help, and he cast off the stigmas and sought the help he needed. And, in the process, he discovered freedom. The message of freedom from the stigmas of depression was one that he felt he must share with others.

The desire to share with others gave rise to the idea behind "enjoy the ride". Larry's idea was to combine a love of adventure, a love of bicycling, and the desire to share his message into what became a two-month, 3,000+ mile bicycle ride from his home in Santa Cruz, California to his hometown of Southington, Ohio.

Others have completed similar rides, but Larry's ride was a little different. You see, Larry took his "solo" ride on a bicycle-built-for-two.

Why would one man choose to ride over 3,000 miles on a bicycle-built-for-two?

Glad you asked!

Larry chose this bike to represent the fact that battling his depression was something he couldn't do by himself. To be successful, he needed to seek help. On the road, the symbolic help was in the form of "stokers"... guest riders who volunteered to hop on the back of the bike and help Larry power through his adventure. While he did ride sections of the trip solo, he had many stokers throughout the two months. Many were friends or relatives that rendezvoused with him to ride a day or stretch of days. Others were followers of his Facebook page or people he met along the way. Once, he even picked up a hitchhiker in the desert (who he found out in the course of conversation had just been released from jail!).

Larry pulled a gear trailer behind his tandem, making it a pretty long rig that attracted some attention, giving him opportunity to explain his mission. Dubbed by some the "Hillbilly RV", Larry said his rig had a dry weight of around 75 pounds and was usually laden with an average of another 75 pounds of gear, food and water... that's powering 150 pounds for 3,000+ miles over numerous mountain ranges... in just 2 months... Wow!

Larry rolled into one of his brother's homes in Northeast Ohio midway through last week and spent the remainder of the week relaxing and planning the final leg of his ride. The final leg was a 40 mile Saturday ride from his brother's home to his childhood home in Southington, Ohio, where his Dad still resides. He divided the ride into 8 segments and openly invited volunteers to ride as stokers for a segment. The 8 slots filled fast!

I considered riding one with him, but I was at work when the invitation went out, and as the saying goes... you snooze, you lose! (Well, I wasn't snoozing at work, but you get the idea!)

I had never personally met Larry, but I have been friends with his brother, Phil, for many years. I had followed his trip via Facebook since he departed from Santa Cruz on May 2nd. I really wanted to be a part of the excitement around Saturday's ride. So, I made plans to join Phil in riding out several miles from Southington to intersect Larry and ride as a member of a bicycle entourage that escorted him to the completion of his ride.

But, Friday evening I checked Facebook and found that the stoker of Segment 6 decided to vacate his position to allow another rider to join, since this stoker had already met and rode with Larry across parts of Michigan. Thank you, Chris... I'm in! I immediately messaged Larry and was first to respond... the stoker slot was mine!

Around noon on Saturday, I had Jen drop me off at the beginning of Segment 6, then drive ahead to the end of Segment 6 to drop off my bike. When I completed my section of the ride, I then joined the entourage on my own bike through Segments 7 and 8.

Meeting Larry for the first time at the beginning of Segment 6. Phil joined us here, also.

Larry: "Are ya ready?"

Segment 6 begins

"Enjoy[ing] the ride" with Larry

Segment 6 completed

Larry's Dad, checking on the progress of the ride

The entourage builds as Segment 7 begins

A special moment as the Southington native crosses the township line

Segment 7 ends just a few miles from the final destination at the historic high school in Southington. As the group crested the small grade by the high school, a single siren blast from the fire station down the street welcomed Larry to Southington. The local news media met Larry here for an interview.

Segment 8 (the final segment) begins with Larry's niece in the stoker's seat.

Several more riders joined the entourage for the final segment. The group was escorted by a few motorcyclists up front, and tailed by a small parade of locals following in cars, all with flashers flashing.

Almost there, Larry!

Larry crossed the "finish line" stretched across the driveway, to cheers of family, friends, and local residents. Congratulations, Larry!

I am glad I had the opportunity to join, in a small way, in Larry's adventure. I have long dreamed of a similar adventure... something more in the form of an Appalachian Trail thru-hike and then writing a book about the experience. But, I am a father of four young children who can't just drop things and hike the AT. As a substitute for my own adventure, I enjoy living vicariously through individuals who accomplish such feats, usually by reading biographies of thru-hikers. However, the personal connection of knowing Larry's family and my friendship with Larry's brother added significance to following this adventure.

I admire Larry not just for the accomplishment of the ride, but the significance of the message he carried. Larry is a talented individual and I have a feeling he'll continue to dream big and accomplish much. But, regardless of what the future holds, he has already accomplished much by overcoming the stigmas of depression.

The bike ride might be over, but I wish you all the best, Larry, as you continue to "enjoy the ride"!

Since I worked a half day on Memorial Day/Zachary's birthday, I promised him we would do something (weather permitting) on my next day off. He chose cycling at one of our local bikeways. An added bonus was the presence of numerous geocaches, nicely spaced, along the route we intended to travel.

I loaded several cache coordinates into the GPS last night. We got up fairly early this morning, filled some water bottles, loaded the bikes in the van, and packed some snacks, the camera and GPS, our helmets, and my "rolling office" (more on that later). We were pedaling by 8:45, and the morning weather was absolutely perfect for a nice ride.

Our first attempt to find a geocache was met with an onslaught of mosquitoes, mud, mosquitoes, standing water, mosquitoes, much weeds and poison ivy, and mosquitoes... mostly thanks to the weeks of relentless rain our area has received. Our second attempt and third attempt met the same fate... caches found: 0, mosquito bites: too numerous to score. We quickly decided to abandon geocaching, and life was good as long as we kept moving and wisely chose our rest stops in the drier and open areas.

We didn't have an agenda or schedule, but just took our time riding and talking up and back the trail. We stopped to look at both a turtle and a snake sunning themselves on the asphalt bikeway, and took a snack break at our turn-around point.

I told Zachary ahead of time that I would probably need to stop at some point and spend some time on the phone. This is very unlike me. I am not one to often have my cell phone in my ear, and I give my number to very few people, because I like carrying it without being bothered by it. However, I showed a car and partially worked a deal with a customer yesterday. We didn't quite complete negotiating, but the customer wanted to consider the car and the numbers overnight, and let me know "in the morning"... my day off. For a commissioned salesperson, this creates a dilemma. I can:

Work my day off to try to close the deal (hoping he actually calls like he says he will).
Share the deal (and the commission) with a salesperson who takes a different day off.
Give out my cell number and try to close the deal by proxy.

I very seldom choose the third option, but this time I did. He seemed like a very solid customer, who would not abuse my cell phone number, and I felt that I had a strong possibility of putting the deal together. The phone rang while we were riding, so I pulled the bike to the side, pulled out my pen and paper, and went into salesman mode. He made an offer on the car and I spent some time on the phone, volleying offers and counter-offers between my customer and my manager back at the dealership. In the end, we came to a stalemate $1000 apart... no car deal. The interruption was fairly minor, and it gave Zachary a brief lesson in negotiation and a glimpse into the life of a car salesman.

Despite the brief trailside car deal attempt, we had a very enjoyable morning together and completed 14 miles of riding. Happy Birthday (again), Zachary... love you, buddy!