The Hardest 200 Miles, laid a good man to rest.

Today I rode a little over 200 miles, spend time with some great friends and had a lot of time to reflect on just what we were doing. I've ridden a good bit in the last 4 years, some of it fun, some of it cold, some hot, most of it because I wanted to get away. Todays ride was not about getting away, but about facing something, honoring someone, and supporting others. Today we rode not for joy or pleasure, although at the end of the ride, there was some of both. Today, we rode for Bear.

Gerald R. Doris Sgt. USMC, those were the words on the pamphlet handed out at his funeral, it's funny that I never knew Gerald R. Doris Sgt. USMC, I only knew Jerry occasionally Wandering Bear, but never Gerald. I didn't know the young man that went so bravely into the breach, that gave away part of his youth and innocence to Uncle Sam in the jungles of Viet Nam. I knew the man that suffered with conditions related to Agent Orange from all those years ago. The man I knew never once complained about his condition, or his health, he took it in the same stride with which he attack the rest of his life, with a vigor and enthusiasm that was inspiring and infectious.

Jerry & I spent a lot of time together, both burning miles on the road, and sitting at a table breaking bread and he always said that I reminded him of himself when he was younger. I always took this as a compliment, but looking back  realize that he meant it as a caution, as words of wisdom passed down from a man with more experience. I took a lot of advise from Jerry over the years that I knew him, I can honestly say that he saved my life, and my marriage. He's the reason that a lot of my biker friends don't see a lot of me, and not at all in a bad way. He taught me that there is nothing more important in life than your family, and no moment more precious than that spent with those you love. This wasn't a lesson that he taught with words, all though he said things like that to me many times, it was his unfaltering devotion to his wife Karen that truly brought truth to his words. Never once did I see him speak a cross word to Karen, never once did he do anything but honor & praise her.

Jerry was a giver, riding to Florida National Cemetery today at Bushnell, I couldn't help but notice the parts on my own bike that were given to me by Jerry, and looking around at the other bikes on the ride, the same was true for everyone. Jerry was the type of guy that wouldn't just give you the shirt off his back, he'd go to his closet and give you a clean one, ironed and ready to go, just to make sure you looked good. His heart and honest desire to give set him apart from other men, and one just one more aspect of the great man that he was.

Today many of his friends showed up to wish him farewell, and many more were thinking of him, and praying for him. The outpouring of love was startling, on www.vtxcafe.com his memorial thread resulted in over 125 posts to date, with more coming I am sure. Bear was a man widely loved by all who's lives he touched.

I had the honor of giving the closing remarks at Bears funeral today, the first time I've been asked to speak at a funeral of a friend. I realized that I didn't say half of what I meant to, nor did a do a fraction of justice to the life that this man led, nor even to the affect that he had on my own life, so I say it here Bear; You were like a father to me, you looked out for me, you guided me in the right direction, and you were always looking out for me, even when I thought that you were just talking, I realize now that you were teaching. I will forever miss you my friend, my brother, my family.

I found this poem that makes me think of Bear, and what he taught to me it's a Pueblo Indian poem:

Hold on to what is good
even if it is a handful of earth.

Hold on to what you believe
even when it is a tree
that stands by itself.

Hold on to what you must do
even when it is a long way from here.

Hold on to life
even when it is easier letting go.

Hold on to my hand
even when I have gone away from you.

RIP Wandering Bear, Semper Fi Marine.

Ride of Silence 2014

Tonight it wasn't hard to come up with a topic for this Blog. Tonight I knew what I was going to write about, and for a change I've been thinking a lot about exactly what I was going to write. Tonight was the Ride of Silence, a bicycle ride of about 8-12 miles at no more than 12mph, ridden entirely in silence in memory of those killed and injured while cycling by other vehicles, it's also to raise awareness for cyclists rights to be on the road and to be treated fairly in the hopes that a ride to memorialize those that we have lost will not be necessary.

For a few moments tonight, the cycling community came together, as we have all too few yet all too many times. For a few moments we weren't riders out of one of the shops, we were "roadies", "tri friends", or just casual peddlers, we came together, in silence for the memory and for the good of cycling as a whole. We were 66 cyclists riding out of several shops, riding several different kind of bikes, from the roadies that stayed under 12mph but never dropped below 90rpm of cadence, the lone guy in the bike on the tri bike, trying to remember to stay out of his aero bars, the man just back from a motorcycle accident on his first group ride, the passionate about biking entrepreneur on the tandem, the young lady clearly struggling with simply making it around the lake, the older rider taking extra laps at the end to get in his workout, or the big guy on the mountain bike clearly not his size.

Almost 40 years ago my father was hit while cycling home from Lakeland Regional Hospital, hit by a driver and left for dead in a ditch. He lay there, in the darkness not knowing if he would survive, the driver continued on his way. Were it not for a nurse on her way home noticing that the bike laying on the side of the road belonged to my father, he may have died in that ditch. As it was her stopping and finding him there saved his life, while she was there in time to ensure he didn't die, she wasn't there in time to save all of him. That night my father didn't lose his life, but he did lose his leg from above the knee.

I can't say that I know the pain of losing a loved one to a cycling accident, and I don't begin to compare that to the experience I'm about to detail, I lost something that day, my father lost something that day. He lost his love of cycling, he lost the freedom of the road, he lost a hobby, and although he doesn't often speak of it, I know he has mourned that loss every day since. What have I lost you might ask, while I didn't lose my father entirely, a lost a part of him, someone that I never knew, a father that would've woken up early to go for a "century" on the weekend, helped me wrench on my first road bike, maybe even cheered me on at my first bike race. While it's a lot harder to quantify the loss for me, it is still there. As I've, in the past year, gotten into cycling, I find myself looking next to me sometimes on long rides, wondering what it would be like if dad was riding alongside me, pushing me, letting me draft when I get tired, or racing me on that last stretch before we get home. He still rides, only on trails and on a trike now, which isn't quite a match for the riding that I do, crouched over aero bars for hours on end, so we bond over cycling, but all the while I notice the look when I talk about that great stretch along some road, or the flinch if I mention a "close call", make no mistake I lost something that day too.

There were lots of stories on this ride today, and the paragraphs above encapsulate only my own, but one thing that I'm sure of, all 66 of these riders came out for a reason tonight, a purpose, whether it was for a loss like mine, the loss of a close friend, a spouse, someone that that saw once a week at a shop ride, or maybe just someone that they felt a special kinship with because that person ventured out on two wheels as well, no matter what the reason I know that we gathered in that parking lot as 66 cyclists, but left that lot and rode this ride as one.

Thank you to all who came out, not just to this Ride of Silence but to them all, the world over.

Thank you to my friend Jesse Cookson for capturing this short video of the riders tonight. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D_fzP3f-pVc