Jim's Hallelujah Cycle

Day 62: It Is Finished!

2008-08-31T19:59:00.000-07:00

Sea to Sea 2008 is done. It ended in spectacular fashion. After an easy ride of 52 miles, we gathered at a parking lot about 10 miles from the end and were escorted by police from three different departments to Liberty State Park. The police blocked streets and shut down part of the expressway so we could ride safely to the Park. It was quite a sight. Appropriately enough, the route went through some of the poorer sections of Jersey City and we enjoyed the spontaneous applause of many residents. They didn't know what was going on, and we looked wildly out of place, but were still warmly welcomed. At Liberty State Park cheering supporters lined the route and celebrated our arrival. I picked out two familiar faces from the crowd, John Wynbeek, and his son David-fellow members of Eastern Avenue CRC. John yelled, "Hey Jim, we've been looking for you." What a surprise and blessing.

A short time later I heard something different, "Dad, Dad, over here!" The voice sounded familiar and seemed directed at me. I looked along the side and there was my son David, standing there with my friend Dave Shatto. I was speechless. My eyes filled with moisture. All I could do was hug him, look at him, and hug him again. When I recovered my voice, I asked him, "David, what are you doing here?" "I wanted to be here to support you. I love you and love what you're doing. I wanted to be part of it." I was "OVERjoyed," in every sense of that word.

We gathered at the boat launch, all 190 of us, lined up as close together as possible, and said the Lord's Prayer together. It was deeply moving. Nobody started cheering or moving before the prayer was done; this was what really joins us together-our identity as God's children and our commitment to serve God and the poor. After that prayer, dipping our tires in the water seemed anti-climactic.

The dipping was still fun. I walked into the water and raised my bike over my head, then asked a bystander to hold my bike, emptied my pockets and dove into the water. They said the water was really grubby (it being a boat launch), but I didn't care. I wanted to do something extravagant. The dainty act of dipping was not enough; this accomplishment called for full immersion. I didn't notice the scum on the water.

After some conversation and pictures, I loaded my bike into the Eastern Avenue CRC van, graciously driven out to New Jersey by Don and Barb Bultman. After a bit of meandering and a lot of frustration with their GPS device, we arrived at Eastern Christian Middle School and, along with the Quists and VanWoerkems, packed up the rest of our belongings. We then went to the closing dinner and worship celebration.

We ate well and dragged our weary bodies into the church. The singing at that Rally nearly blew the roof off of the sanctuary. There were spontaneous comments about the Tour from Barb Mellema and John VanderSteen, testimonies from Christeena Nienhuis and Mark Faase, a message from an area pastor, and closing acknowledgements. The service was long-more than 2 hours-but very meaningful. I finished saying my goodbyes to fellow riders and drove off with Dave Shatto and son David.

Just that suddenly, Sea to Sea was done, finished. The words in the title for this blog come from Jesus words on the cross. On Jesus' lips "It is finished" means that he had completed his mission; everything had been done. I used the same words in the title because I believe that Sea to Sea is connected to Jesus' work of salvation.

For me this Tour has provided a taste of redemption. The biking I so enjoyed was made possible by Jesus' death and resurrection. I believe that Jesus' victory over sin and death is the fountain from which the restraint of Multiple Sclerosis in my life has flowed. One day, Jesus' victory will be complete and this disease, along with all others, will be obliterated. But now, today, there is a sign of this victory in the slowness with which the disease has progressed. In short, I could ride because Jesus died.

The Tour also allowed me to participate in the work of redemption. Jesus died and rose so that the scourge of poverty and starvation could be ended. In raising money and awareness of poverty, and in facing my own greed, Jesus invited me to continue his work. That has been a glorious calling.

Now, the Tour is finished. There will be other ways to enjoy redemption and other callings to participate in it. And, hopefully, the Tour will help me be more open to both of these blessings. But the clarity with which these blessings came to me over the last 9 weeks has made Sea to Sea a miracle of grace for which I will always be grateful.

Thank...you...Je...sus...

Day 61: Making Moosic

2008-08-29T19:06:00.000-07:00

Today my heart, lungs, and legs sang. I rode 86 miles through some of the most beautiful countryside you could ever hope to see. The hills were magnificent! The roads were steep, which made for challenging climbs and thrilling descents. I reached 45 mph without trying. Often the road would turn suddenly, which brought added adventure.

The highest point of the day was in the Moosic Mountains of Pennsylvania. But the stiffest climb of the day was the 4 mile climb in New Jersey's High Point State Park. I felt so good when I finished this climb that I took a side trip to the High Point Monument, about 1 and 1/2 miles up another hill. This road had the steepest climbs of the day. I discovered that the monument was a tower, patterned after the Washington monument. I decided to climb the 291 steps to the top.
The view wasn't all that great, but the strength and energy to get there made the trip worth taking.

I knew the day would be challenging-6800 feet of climbing was 1800 feet more than any other day of the Tour. The surprise was how much fun it was. It is hard to pick a favorite ride, but this would definitely be in the running.

From High Point it was mostly downhill for 8 miles to Sussex and the CRC at which we were staying. Sussex and Goshen CRCs put on a potluck that overwhelmed us with the amount and variety of food!

Tonight I'm billeting with a member of Sussex CRC. The area around the church was hilly and I would have had to lug my tent and gear a long way to find a flat spot. It just seemed easier to go to somebody's house. I think it also shows that I'm ready to let go of the routine of staying in my tent. Contrary to what one might expect, tenting for 9 weeks has been a joy. It is a joy that I'm ready to let go. I'm also billeting tomorrow night in Jersey City.

God has answered my prayers. I'm accepting the end and giving myself fully to each of the last days. I don't know what to expect tomorrow-I suspect that I'll add some of my own salt water to the waters in which I dip my tires. Or, maybe I'll just laugh. I'll find out tomorrow.

Day 60: Filled Up in Lackawanna State Park

2008-08-29T18:29:00.000-07:00

Contrary to what the name suggests, there was nothing lacking in this day or final destination. I'm now sitting down by the lake, gazing over calm waters and the dense forest on the other side. The temperature is perfect. I just finished a popsicle that I bought from the campground concession stand. They didn't have grape, but blue raspberry filled in nicely.

The ride was short; I complete the 56 miles by 12:30, without pushing. The route went through the most beautiful forests I've seen on this trip. The trees were incredibly dense and lush. Only one word to describe them...WOW!

I had expected a lot of climbing over the short distance, but last night Ed told us to disregard the topographical chart; he said that there weren't that many climbs. Much of the ride went gently downhill, following a stream at the base of the hills. The roads were a mixed bag-either great or terrible. Thankfully, the awful roads-with deep, wide cracks that crossed the whole road-didn't last long.

The last seven miles provided some interesting climbs-some sections had grades that must have been 12 percent. Many people walked their bikes up these sections; it beat tipping over. The climb reawakened my dormant mountain skills and got me eager for tomorrow.

There were other interesting sights along the way. We ate lunch in "Hop Bottom," a community whose name alone makes it interesting. We went under two massive cement railroad bridges, built from 1912-1915, that rose 200 feet over the valley. Some riders saw a train using one of them.

"Not lacking anything" has been true not only of the day, but of the whole Tour. The Tour has been impossibly rich and full. I have lacked nothing.

I can say the same thing as I peruse my life, the good and the bad. I can remember the empty times, the dismal times, but they have gained a peculiar fullness as God has touched them with his grace. That is obvious when I look back.

Why then, when I look ahead, do I have such a fear of emptiness? I hope that God's provision throughout this Tour will help me to more boldly proclaim and live this truth,

"The LORD is my shepherd; I shall lack nothing."

Day 59: A Welcome Relief

2008-08-27T18:55:00.001-07:00

Great ride today! A welcome relief after the hard day yesterday. My legs had some zip to them. My eyes were more open to the beauty around me. And it once again felt good being on the bike. And when it started to feel bad, a generous helping of Chamois Butt'r was enough to restore my contentment. If only all my distress were so easily managed.

This was my last day on Sweep. My alarm clock wasn't working, but I still managed to wake up on my own at 5:15. I have internalized a whole new structure to my days. I wonder if I'll keep getting up early when I return home.

I began the day's ride at 8 am, after helping with breakfast and camp clean-up. I rode with Anne M., who said her legs didn't have any "jam" (must be a Canadian expression). The route was quite hilly, especially after we reached Ithaca, where a 900 foot climb greeted us. This is too big to be called a hill and too small to be called a mountain. A local person helped me find the proper term by saying we were in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains.

The road wove in and out as much as it went up and down. The woods were, once again, stunning. We stopped for lunch in Slaterville Springs and talked at length with four road construction workers. The Tour amazed them.

The afternoon ride went even better than the morning. I don't know why; I just know that that is unusual. The miles flew by, especially the last 10, which goes completely against the norm. I think that has a lot to do with the people I rode in with. I attribute this surprising ending to the power of community.

Valley CRC fed us a wonderful supper, featuring "Spiedies," an upstate New York specialty, salt potatoes, and a pasta and fruit salad which required several helpings to properly evaluate. Though not unique to New York, the almond bars they served were out of this world.

A great day ended well when the school at which we're camping opened up their dining room with wireless access and a friend loaned me his laptop so I could get caught up on my blogs.

Now it is time for bed. Tomorrow is a new day. One thing I learn over and over again is that each day is a new day with unique blessings and challenges. May God give me the grace to live one day at a time. Saturday's coming, but first I want to live Thursday and then I want to live Friday, and then I'll see about Saturday.

Day 58: Hard Beginning & Hard Ending

2008-08-27T18:37:00.000-07:00

Hard to get going this morning. Partly because it was so cold (upper 40s) and partly because there are only five riding days left. On any ride the toughest miles are the last ones. It can be a great ride and the last few miles will still be difficult. The body's clock says it's time to be done. I think something similar is happening this week. The last days are hard days.

There was nothing wrong with this day in itself. On the contrary, the day and route were amazingly good. Once the chill was out of the air, the temperature was perfect. The skies were bright blue, which formed a beautiful backdrop for the lush vegetation and woods. This part of New York is glorious!

The landscape began to get quite hilly. Good preparation for what will be our biggest climbing day of the Tour-Friday-in which we climb 6800 feet. I rode with Jim B until our lunch stop.
Lunch was provided by the East Palmyra CRC at the 52 mile mark. Delicious food-even a grape popsicle for dessert-but I left with a stomach ache and a reluctant approach to the last 25 miles.

I plodded along until Marti came cruising by. Part of me wanted to ride alone and nurse my physical and spiritual wounds, but I decided to join her and see how things went. We rode fast. As I pushed myself, my stomach stopped hurting and my weariness lifted. I told Marti it was her healing presence.

The scenery became even more beautiful when we reached Geneva and Seneca Lake, one of the Finger Lakes. We rode around the northern edge of the lake and camped at Sampson State Park. I set up my tent overlooking the lake. I didn't get to enjoy this prime location since I was on supper duty and was asked to grill the chicken. 200 people eat a lot of chicken!

After supper it was time for Peloton. The emphasis was on preparing for the end and articulating what has been meaningful about the ride. I got crabby. After Peloton I called home and got testy ("shorts in a bunch" is my son's description, who overheard the conversation). It was Cindy's birthday today. The day ended as it began-hard.

I'm going to need a lot of grace for these last days. One of the things grace means is accepting the difficulty of this time and not adding to the burden by expecting them to be like the first days. In his book, "In the Beginning," chaim Potok writes, "All beginnings are hard." So are the endings.

Day 57: Day of Delights

2008-08-27T18:07:00.000-07:00

Today was a delightful ride for several reasons:

1. The day began with a ride along the Niagara River through tranquil forests, beautiful gardens, and impressive views of thegorge.
2. The border crossing went well enough to be classified as a miracle. We gathered near the Rainbow Bridge and crossed in mass-nearly 200 cyclists wearing our Sea to Sea jerseys. What a sight! I think we gave the Falls a run for their money.
We had been told over and over to make sure we had our passports with us. They opened some booths for us and, to our astonishment, waved us through before we could show them our passports. I pulled over to the side and stopped to fish my passport out of my bike shirt pocket; the agent had to tell me twice, "Just keep coming." I figured the passport check would come later. Nope, that was it. Nearly 200 cyclists waved across the border because...
Perhaps because the Director of Operations, Ed Witvoet, had such trouble getting a visa to plan the Tour. After four months of waiting, it was the chief of the Rainbow Bridge Crossing who got him his visa. And it was that same chief who oversaw our easy crossing. Ed's difficult time paved the way for our easy time.
3. Once across the bridge, many of us went and looked at the Falls from the American side. Spectacular. There were two spectacles today-the creation spectacle of Niagara and the redemptive spectacle of Sea to Sea. Glory be to God!
4. We rode in groups through the city of Niagara. I rode with the Quists and VanWoerkems, 4 fellow members of Eastern Avenue CRC. At the edge of Niagara we stopped for coffee. When it was time to pay; the waitress informed us that the gentleman in booth 1 had paid the bill.
5. We rode with a TAILWIND.
6. At a stop sign, a couple pulled up and asked about the ride. They wondered why we were ending in New Jersey. I told them about the Rallies we held in areas where our denomination was strong. When they heard we were CRC they asked about Calvin College. When we finally parted they seemed eager to make a donation. A surprising connection at a stop sign in rural New York.
7. The evening was also full of blessings. When we arrived at camp there was free pop-the spaghetti dinner was amazing-we held a campfire after Peloton, made smores, and listened to country western music, played by three musicians who wanted to do something nice for us. They were even talented.

The only blemish on the day is the snorer I am presently camped beside. I've gotten to know most of the heavy snorers and their tents over the course of 8 weeks and usually pitch my tent out of range-50 feet for some, 100 feet for others, depending on their decibel level. This snorer joined the tour in G.R. and caught me off guard. I'm wearing earplugs, but they only muffle the sound. If worse comes to worse, I'll pick up my tent and move.

Day 56: "Do Something Beautiful"

2008-08-24T17:24:00.000-07:00

I am sick of our theme song, "Do Something Beautiful". I find it difficult to sing, the tune hasn't worn well, and I still don't know the words. We sing it at every Celebration Rally, sometimes twice, and then they'll occasionally play it for a postlude. That does get me out of the area pretty quickly. Until today I was pretty sure I would never sing or willfully listen to this song again.

"Until today."

The Niagara Rally was held at a beautiful park, Queenston Heights-stately trees, historic monuments, open spaces, and expansive pavilions. We spent a lot of time in the pavilions-all 300 of us and about 50 other picnickers-because it was raining so hard. I tried to find a dry place under the trees, but even the densest leaf cover was penetrated by this downpour. So I squeezed into the pavilion and tried to stay away from the edges, where the water was running off the roof.

We occupied this space from 2-4pm. We cyclists weren't happy about the two hour "meet and greet" plan to begin with; spending it in the cramped pavilion did not improve my attitude. I managed to have some good conversations, inspite of myself. I talked to one couple about the rain and ended up listening to their stories of recovery from alcoholism (I work in addiction treatment for Pine Rest). Another person expressed appreciation for this blog, which felt really good. Still, the highlight of that time was watching two little kids play in the large puddle that formed between the two pavilions. They were having a ball. Their freedom and sense of abandon was infectious. I didn't join them in the puddle, but I did smile a lot watching them.

All this time I'm waiting for someone to announce that the Rally has been rained out. But no, the announcement comes that the Rally will be held come hell or high water (they used different words). The second option was a distinct possibility; I suppose the first was too, but that gets too heavy for this blog.

I grimaced and moved to the bandshell area. The rain had let up by 3:45. My attitude was revealed in my lateness to the gathering. I didn't think I was missing much since the band led off with "Do Something Beautiful." At least we were getting it out of the way early.

As I moved into the area I was surprised at how many people were there-some, I later learned, from a long ways away. That kind of support was moving, even if the song I was listening to was not. I moved to the side of the amphitheatre to take a couple of pictures. That gathering was indicative of the amazing support we've received throughout Canada. Taking pictures also meant I was free from any pressure to sing along.

The band was doing the chorus one final time, "Do something beautiful" they sang and the sun broke through the clouds. Apparently God was listening, maybe even singing along. The worshippers began to cheer. And I did something I hadn't done since the first time I heard that song, got choked up.

That song is now more deeply embedded in my mind, since it is indicative of the way God has provided for us throughout the Tour. We have been blessed in so many ways, on so many different levels. It is also indicative of the way God has provided for me throughout my life. There have been several rainstorms from which I've sought shelter, and each time the sun has penetrated the gloom and God has initiated a new day. Now, a song that I don't like is connected to a God whom I adore and a process that humbles and amazes me.

I think I will listen to it when the Tour is done, probably even sing along, if I can find the words.

Do you think God is laughing?

Day 55: Easing into St. Catherines

2008-08-23T13:02:00.000-07:00

Today's ride was a leisurely jaunt of 46 miles from Redeemer University College (yes, that is the proper name-in Canadian terminology "university" identifies it as an academic institution instead of trade school and "college" describes the university as undergrad) to St. Catherines. The short distance was made even shorter by no less than 6 refreshment stops. We were served fruit, freezies, muffins, bagels, ice cream & peaches, fresh fruit cups, sandwiches, cake, and enough cookies to make the Cookie Monster say "I've had enough." In addition, there were numerous signs and cheering people to encourage us.

I'm taking a new approach to all this food, doing something I haven't done in 8 weeks, saying "no." Today I said "no" to little pecan cups. Canadian hospitality has provided so many desserts and so many baked goods that I can no longer eat anything I want. If I start saying "no" now, perhaps it won't seem quite so rude when I get home.

One of the highlights of the ride today was riding along the Niagara Escarpment-a long ridge that runs through Ontario. the views from the top were extraordinary. The ride down to the bottom was exhilarating. Tonight I'm going on my very first tour of Niagara Falls. I'm looking forward to it.

Day 54: "I Got Mine"

2008-08-22T11:56:00.000-07:00

The ride today was fabulous-a short 75 miles :-) from London to Hamilton. The weather was beautiful, the roads were smooth, and there were numerous refreshment stops hosted by the churches of the area. In addition to those stops, we regularly encountered people who cheered us on from their front yards-families, senior citizens, kids and their dogs. We have been blessed again and again by the reception we've received from the Canadian CRC.

One example: Johnny took his bike to the bike shop in Chatham to deal with a chronic problem he has been nursing since Seattle. The repairman tells him that he also needs new tires. They're not cheap. His bill came to $107. When he pulled out his credit card the shuttle driver (taking bikers from camp to the shop) pulled out his wallet and said, "Let me get that for you." Johnny protested, but the driver insisted and Johnny joyfully acquiesced.

Grace, grace, and more grace.

Contrast that with the attitude I exhibited at the school last night.

One of the precious resources on the Tour is computer/internet access. The Tour's attempt to make it available has been erratic at best. So, when we reach a destination, we scurry for the nearest library and the people who brought their own laptops look for the nearest point of wireless access. Since we've added the 60 new riders in Grand Rapids, this resource has become even more precious.

In Richmond, MI we flooded the library. The librarians wanted to give everyone a little access, so they limited our use to 15 minute time blocks. It was irritating to hear, "You have 15 minutes," when you needed an hour, but fair. I thanked the librarians for their extra work.

Last night we stayed at the Christian H.S. in London. They had a computer lab with 20 computers. Hallelujah! After the Peloton gathering, I went into the lab to blog. Of the 20 computers, only two were able to get on the internet. How disappointing!

Fortunately, there were only a few of us in the lab, so when the person using one of the computers was finished she offered it to the person sitting next to her. Neil had come into the room after me and offered me the computer. I gladly accepted his offer.

He went to another part of the lab and waited. And waited. And waited. And waited some more, while I and the person on the other working computer worked on our blogs. I don't know what he was doing at the back of the room, because I did my best to ignore him. While he sat there, people regularly came into the lab and sat down and we would inform them that the other computers did not work. I thought, "There is no way these two computers will meet the needs of everyone who wants to use one," and that justified my monopoly on its time. "Since the number of computers is so inadequate, I might as well keep using this one."

I completed the two days of blogging I wanted to do. I must admit that I was not entirely comfortable as I blogged. I hoped that Neil had left, and didn't look around to see if he was still there. At one point I flinched when I caught a glimpse of him still in the room. "He's still there?" My next thought was, "Well, I'm almost done." As Cindy will attest, my "almost" can stretch out for a long time. But "almost" allowed me to keep typing.

The other computer user finally finished and Neil used his computer for 15 minutes and left. A short time later I finished my blogs. The guilt and shame didn't hit until I got back to my tent. "How could you be such a pig?" "You could have handled it so much better." A simple question, "How long do you need it?" would have helpful, along with the information that I needed it for a long time. I knew why I didn't ask the obvious. If I had said that, someone might have challenged the length of time I intended to use it. So, to preserve my prosperity, I kept my mouth shut. It was greed in its purest form.

When I realized what I had done, I wanted to confess my wrong. The next morning I found Neil at breakfast and apologized. He graciously accepted my apology; didn't take advantage of his opportunity to slam me. He said, "It wasn't that big a deal to me, or I would have said something while I was waiting. Thanks for your apology." And then the clincher, "Did you get done what you wanted." I examined his words carefully for a note of sarcasm, but there was none. More grace.

Throughout this Tour I have rejoiced in the freedom God has given me from multiple sclerosis. God has done a great work in my life, enabling me to ride my bike 3900 miles, after living with M.S. for 24 years. Yesterday, I rode like a bat out of hell (O.K., a slow bat) for 24 miles, caught my breath, rode another 20 miles, and then went to the Velodrome and worked up a sweat on a fixed gear bike. M.S. robs so many people of energy to do their normal routine; God has granted me enough energy to perform a very abnormal routine. Praise God!

Today, I am praying that God will do something even greater. I am praying that he will deliver me from my greed and self-centeredness.

The same attitude I exhibited in the lab can be seen in my response to global poverty. One of the main goals of this Tour has been to raise awareness of global poverty. Today, I am aware that "I got mine," trumps any awareness of poverty.

I wanted and needed to confess my computer greed to Neil. I am hoping for the opportunity to be generous with computer access, ideally to Neil, but anybody else will do. I want and need to confess the more profound ways my greed hurts others, especially the poor. I am hoping that this confession weakens the hold of "I got mine," on my heart, and replaces it with a very important question, "Do you have yours?"

I think greed is more dangerous, damaging, and difficult to deal with than multiple sclerosis.

Jesus, Savior, have mercy on me, a sinner.

Day 53: New experiences

2008-08-21T18:33:00.000-07:00

Today I rode 89 miles, competed in a time trial, and rode on a velodrome.

The time trial was a 40 kilometer (24 miles) section of the day's ride. About 30 riders competed. We started at one minute intervals; I was 26th. I had no illusions about my chances of winning. Most of the other riders have been starting later and finishing earlier than me for 7 weeks. I didn't see that pattern changing. I just wanted to push myself and see how fast I could go.

I rode the course in 1 hour and 24 minutes, averaging 17.1 mph. This was the third slowest time, but I was thrilled. It was the best I could do, especially against the 10 mph headwind. I am happy I could celebrate my best, even when it wasn't even close to being "the best." When the ride was done, I was utterly spent. Actually, I was spent after an hour and simply gutted it out for the last 24 minutes. And that is what a time trial is supposed to be. I'm not sure why this is fun. As I put it into words, it doesn't sound very enjoyable, but the satisfaction at the finish line was indescribable.

A short distance from the finish line, Hope CRC of Mt. Brydges put on a wonderful lunch. I had no energy when I arrived, and wondered how I would finish the last 20 miles, but after a roast beef sandwich, salad, and Rice Krispie cookie I was revived. Marti caught up with me on the way to London and we finished the ride together. The last part of the ride was through Springbank Park, along the Thames River. It was stunning. Numerous people from London cheered our arrival.

While riding, Marti convinced me to go with her to the Velodrome when we arrived in camp. We arrived at 2:30 and left for the Velodrome at 2:45. A velodrome is a banked track that you ride on a fixed gear bike. These bikes have no brakes and no gears. If you stop pedaling, the pedals will keep moving and throw you off, so don't stop pedaling. The straight portions of the track are banked at 18 degrees and the turns are banked at 48 degrees. That's steep!

14 Sea to Sea Riders went. The instructors first taught us how to start and stop the bikes. You should have seen and heard us. We were like kids riding a bike for the first time. Initially, just staying up on the bike felt like an accomplishment. Then we did a couple of exercises on the base of the track-a part that is slightly banked. Then we got on the track itself-first in 2 groups, then as individuals, and then in groups again.

It was thrilling! We yelled; we cheered; we celebrated. This was such a surprise. After the time trial and 89 mile ride, I was sure I was too tired to do much of anything. Once I got in the Velodrome, the adrenaline kicked in and I had energy to burn. "Go, Jim, Go!" the other riders yelled. And I turned it loose, slower than most of them, but wicked fast for me.

We got back just as supper was starting-another fabulous spread by the church people of the area. The support we have been receiving from the Canadian churches has been amazing and humbling.

This was an absolutely wonderful day. I think I'm still too excited to sleep.

Thank you Jesus.

Day 52: Easy Made Hard

2008-08-21T17:42:00.000-07:00

Today we entered Canada.

We rode 20 miles from Richmond to Marine City, gathered at River Park, and took the ferry to Sombra. We all passed the customs check with pre-9/11 ease. I told them my name, showed my passport, and waited for them to find my name on the list. It took all of 30 seconds. Once past customs, a crowd of 200 supporters greeted us with applause and refreshments. My favorites were the cinnamon rolls and almond paste bars. From Sombra it was a short 37 mile jaunt to our final destination, Chatham, Ontario.

Inspite of the short distance, bright sunshine and warm reception, I found the ride tiring and frustrating.

My difficulties started as I left the parking lot in Richmond and heard a rubbing sound from my front wheel. When I looked closely, the wheel had a pronounced wobble. I decided to talk to the biking gurus when we gathered for the ferry ride. Biking 20 miles with a rhymic click and a wobbly wheel is not relaxing. The pitiful pavement on which we rode did not help.

Our resident experts looked at the wheel and said, "This wheel is bent!" We concluded that somebody must have stepped on it the previous night. The good news was that I could still ride on that wobbly wheel. We adjusted the brake and I was ready to go. At least I wouldn't have to listen to the annoying click.

After the reception, I discovered that the clip on my left shoe was broken. Apparently, it happened during the walk onto the ferry. It would no longer clip onto the pedal. When your foot won't clip onto the pedal, your foot won't stay on the pedal. This is a problem. I could still ride, but I had to push carefully on the left pedal, and couldn't pull up-which is the whole point of clip-on pedals.

For the last 37 miles I just wanted to finish the ride and get to a bike shop. "Riding to finish" is often my mindset at the end of a long ride. Doing it for 37 miles turns a biking into drudgery.

I hooked up with Nathan, who was slowed by the stomach flu-we were perfect for each other-and we wobbled into Chatham. We separated about a mile from the end, and wouldn't you know it, I missed my final turn. By the time I realized it, I was 1/2 mile past my street. I decided to conceal my inept navigating by going to a couple of stores and letting others think the miss was intentional. At the first store I bought some toothpaste and got directions to the bike shop.

I must have looked pretty funny coming out of the store: pushing a bike, hobbling on bike shoes, decked out in full cycling gear, and wearing sunglasses and a rear view mirror. A lady entering the store started to laugh and said, "You're with Sea to Sea, aren't you." "Do you know where you're going?" This was a good question, since I was 1/2 mile off course. I had a better answer, "To the bike store."

I told her which store I was going to and confirmed the directions I had been given. "Can I just take you there?" she asked. In view of the day I was having, that was an offer I could not refuse. We put my bike in her mini van and drove the 3 miles to the bike store. The attendant could not have been more helpful. He didn't have the kind of clip I needed, but he knew customers who did and called them to locate a pair for me. He straightened my wheel as much as possible and checked the bike over. I got back to camp in time for supper and enjoyed a wonderful meal provided by the churches in Chatham.

Moral of the story? Biking is unpredictable: Days that look hard can be easy; and days that look easy can be hard. And, more importantly, no day is without grace, even for people who try to hide their mistakes.

Day 51: Joy in the Wind

2008-08-19T16:17:00.000-07:00

I steeled myself for the day. Katrina, our weather reporter, said the winds would be strong and from the east. She apologized for being the bearer of bad news. I called Cindy and told her the day looked hard. "Pray for stamina, moments of joy, and other people to ride with," I asked her.

Those blessings rained down on me in buckets. I got up early, ate breakfast, and prepared to ride. Just before leaving I bumped into a familiar riding partner, Anne M. "I'm looking for somebody to ride with into this wind. Are you free?" "Come and join us," she replied. She already had a group of 4, but they hospitably welcomed me to the group.

Anne, Jess, Ed, Wally, and I began our assault on Richmond, the day's destination. The ride felt like a mountain climb. Like so many of the rides up mountain passes, this ride was both difficult and invigorating.

We worked well together, alternating the lead every 3 kilometers. The Canadians on our team outnumbered the Americans, so we had to measure our distances in "klicks" rather than miles. Because it was a straight headwind, there was real relief in tucking behind the person in front of you. Each of us worked hard for 3 kilometers and then moved to the back of the line and let the others pull us along. Except for Ralph. He joined us on the road. When it was his turn to lead, he broke the wind (that's "broke the wind," not "broke wind") for 10 kilometers. Nobody had told him about our informal 3 kilometer rule. Oops; our bad.

We stopped for coffee at 11:45 and completed the ride by 2:30. 95 miles into a 15 mph wind and we averaged over 15 mph (I'm not sure what that is in kilometers). The roads were often terrible, befitting Michigan's budget crisis, but we took that in stride and made the best of it.

There weren't just moments of joy on this ride; I thoroughly enjoyed the whole thing. I rode well, felt strong, and delighted in the people with whom I was riding.

Thank you, Cindy, for your prayers. Thank you, Jesus, for your delightful answer.

Day 50: Gracious Love

2008-08-19T15:58:00.000-07:00

I loved the ride today-65 miles from Grand Rapids to Sleepy Hollow
State Park-bright sunshine-moderate temperatures-and a GREAT TAILWIND.

I rode the first part with some Eastern Avenue people-Phil and Jan Quist, and Ken & Shirley VanWoerkem. We stopped at Calvary CRC in Lowell for some wonderful refreshments. They put out a spread-fruit, muffins, baked breaks, and egg casseroles, as well as the obligatory Gatorade and water.

In the afternoon I met some new people on the road-Hennie, Harry, and their son Peter. They rode fast, which made the last 20 miles zip by. I arrived at the State Park at 12:30. After the busy Sunday, an open afternoon was much appreciated.

As I was eating lunch I got a weird phone call from my son, David. He asked if I had left my deodorant? I didn't think so, but so what? "Other people might care," he said. He then asked how the ride went and whether I was done. A couple of minutes laters he called again. "Come out to the street, dad." "What?" "Just come out to the street. (the road was about 50 feet away). I strolled around the bushes and there he was, sporting a wide grin and a warm greeting.

I had just seen him on Sunday. We had expressed our love, pledged our prayers, and said our goodbyes. "What are you doing here?" "I just wanted to come and see what you do." We hung out for a couple of hours-he helped set up my tent-I introduced him to a few of my new friends-he took me to a store for some Gatorade, peanuts, and conversation.

His over the top, gracious love nourished my spirit.

Day 49: Biker Jim or Pastor Jim

2008-08-19T13:55:00.001-07:00

In the warmth of family love and the familiar places of home, there was a surprising chill to my day in Grand Rapids. It reminds me of our ride down from Steven's Pass, along the Wenatchee River, on the second day of the Tour. Every now and then a cold wind, a guesstimated 15 degrees cooler, would blow through us as we raced down the canyon. That wind felt good; the one blowing around Grand Rapids did not.

I lay in my own bed on Saturday night, tired, and couldn't get to sleep. First time in my own bed in 7 weeks and I can't fall asleep? What's going on?

I went to my home church-Eastern Avenue CRC-on Sunday morning and was enthusiastically received. The Celebration Rally that afternoon featured powerful sharing from Tyler B about reaching his destination of serving the poor even though an injury is preventing him from reaching the biking distination of Jersey City. Kyle wrote, played, and sang a beautiful song that left us all speechless. The guest speaker, Shane C., issued a strong challenge to let our actions reveal our identify. " They will know we are Christians by our love (for the poor)." After the rally I went to my newly married son's home for dinner with my lots of family members. Wonderful time!

Yet, there was an uncomfortable chill in the air. Where was it coming from? Coming down from Steven's Pass we figured out that the cool wind was blowing in off the Wenatchee River. Where was this one coming from?

I think it came from the way the world of biking, that I've been living in for the last 7 weeks, was bumping against the normal world I inhabit. They are very different worlds.

And I am a different person in those worlds. I have been "Pastor Jim" for 27 years, and "Biker Jim" for 7 weeks. Biker Jim"" is apprehensive about what he'll be giving up to be "Pastor Jim" again.

Biker Jim is doing something extraordinary-riding his bike across the country. Pastor Jim does more ordinary things-leading groups, counseling individuals, attending meetings, and occasionally preaching. Good things, meaningful things, common things.

Biker Jim has received lots of affirmation and praise. "You're my hero," "You amaze me,"and "Ï'm so proud of you," are some of the more memorable quotes. Pastor Jim gets plenty of praise, but it is a quieter praise that he sometimes has to read between the lines to hear.

Biker Jim always knows what to do. He eats, sleeps, and bikes. He sets up his tent every afternoon and takes it down every morning. Except on Sundays; then his tent stays put. Once every 10 days he serves breakfast and dinner to the camp and cleans up afterwards. He goes to public libraries, when they are available, to blog. Pastor Jim is sometimes confused and pulled in different directions. He often has a hard time deciding what to do and frequently thinks he should be doing something other than what he is doing.

Biker Jim believes he has done all that he has to do when he completes a ride. Anything else is extra. He can be content doing nothing, because he's already ridden an average of 72 miles that day. Biker Jim's conscience is quiet. He feels good about what he is doing and the way he is doing it. He believes his actions are meaningful as well as enjoyable. Pastor Jim thinks that there is always something else he should be doing. He doesn't necessarily do it, but his conscience nags him.

Biker Jim doesn't have much stuff to take care of. When Biker Jim goes to church he decides between his blue gym shorts and his beige khakis with a stain on the front pocket. Biker Jim notices the stain, but thinks it doesn't matter. When Pastor Jim goes to church he has many decisions to make about what to wear. Stains are unacceptable.

When Biker Jim's hands get dirty cleaning his bike, he washes them with soap and waits for time to remove the remnants of the grease. Pastor Jim first washes with soap and then uses a special, abrasive "hand goo" to clean his hands and nails. If he doesn't get it all off, and it is very hard to get all the grease off, he will try to keep his hands in his pockets.

Biker Jim eats whatever he wants to eat and still loses weight. He snacks on Giant Paydays, eats two helpings of everything he likes at dinner, and devours cookies. Pastor Jim hadn't eaten a Giant Payday in years.

Even the things they have in common seem different. Biker Jim knows that he has multiple sclerosis-he's even had a scare once or twice-but he's never had an attack on the road, so the disease doesn't feel as close. On the road Biker Jim is doing something most people with M.S. are not able to do. As he rides he feels blessed, strong, rising above the disease that once put him in a wheelchair-transcendent. Pastor Jim has experienced several attacks in his world and is anxious about physical irregularities. Pastor Jim does not transcend the disease, but lives and moves in the valley of the shadow of multiple sclerosis.

There are many advantages to being Pastor Jim, but Biker Jim wants Pastor Jim to know that he is facing some real losses as well. Biker Jim believes he is being asked to "let go"of the glory, the excitement, the simplicity, and the guilt free self-centeredness of the Bike Tour. Pastor Jim is trying to listen to Biker Jim and learn from him. Pastor Jim thinks some aspects of Biker Jim will enhance his life; he is also clear that other things-like Giant Paydays-will have to go.

Pastor Jim has only recently become aware of Biker Jim; and Biker Jim did not realize how different he is from Pastor Jim. I am hopeful that they will be able to get along-they have a lot in common. This blog is an attempt to provide a healthy relationship's most essential characteristic-communication. Just being aware of each other and talking to each other may be enough to take the mysterious chill out of the air at home.

I'll find out in two weeks.

Day 48: Breezing into Grand Rapids

2008-08-19T13:06:00.001-07:00

The morning was gorgeous-the temperatures were moderate-the distance was short-and the winds were at our back. The ride to Grand Rapids was a breeze, literally and figuratively.

A friend from church, Matt Heun, came out to do a one day ride with me. We had a great time. Several of the roads permitted side by side riding. Our conversation covered a lot of territory-Grand Rapids to South Africa, politics to theology, and biking to personal spirituality.

We rode into Grand Rapids and were warmly welcomed by different groups of people. Our former church secretary surprised me by making a big "Jim's Hallelujah Cycle" sign. My sister and family greeted us at another station. Lots of people lined the road through Calvin cheering as we rode in. Wow!

It was strange coming home-because I knew that I couldn't stay. We arrived at Calvin by 1:15. The whole week-end stretched out before me, but previous experience told me that Monday morning would be here in a flash.

My first stop was the bike shop-Kentwood Cycling. They went above and beyond the call of duty and all the standards of customer service to get my bike ready for the last leg.

"Last leg"-that is part of what seems strange. We're more than 3/4 of the way to Jersey City! Can that be? Doesn't seem possible. Have I really biked more than 3,000 miles? Let's see, I biked on day 1, and day 2, then day 3 and day 4 ......In recovery from addiction the mantra is "One day at a time." That's how we've gotten across the country. The whole thing, 3881 miles, sounds overwhelming, but Grand Haven to Grand Rapids is a piece of cake. Few rides have been this easy-but they've all been doable and they've added up to something that I have to pinch myself to believe.

Day 47: Where are we?

2008-08-19T12:15:00.000-07:00

This morning was our coldest ride of the tour. Didn't see that coming. This is mid-August in Michigan. What happened to the dog days of summer? I wore a cycling sweatshirt and was still cold in the shadows, of which there were plenty. I longed for sunshine, which contrasts with all those days out west when I longed for shade.

The day held other surprises. As I was fixing lunch I noticed a riding mate, Jim B., standing hunched over and looking at me a bit strangely. Oh, he wanted to tell me something. He ambled over and said, "I spent 3 hours at the hospital last night." "What's going on? I asked. "I cracked three ribs." "How did you do that?" "Last night I stayed at the Hampton with my wife. I was taking a shower and slipped in the tub. I grabbed the shower curtain, but it pulled away from the rings. I fell out of the tub and landed on the stool."

I wondered why Jim had his biking clothes on and was packing a lunch. "Are you still going to ride?" "I'm going to give it a shot. I think riding a bike will be easier on my ribs than riding in a car with the starting and stopping." That was just about the dumbest thing I'd ever heard, but Jim was so sincere, and so devoted to the Tour, that I decided to swallow my first, second, and third thoughts. "God bless you today," I replied, which concealed my incredulity and revealed my concern for him. Oh the things we tell ourselves in order to keep riding.

I rode the morning with Clare and Roger. There were only three of us, but we had a tough time staying together, and after an hour I lost them. I know what you're thinking, "How hard can it be to stay with someone who is riding the same road, heading for the same place, and following the same map?" Sometimes, it is pretty hard.

Graafschaap CRC hosted us for lunch. Because it was only 27 miles from South Haven I left late and still arrived at 10 am, too early to eat. To pass some time I went to the CRC history exhibit in their basement. My expectations were low-I was just waiting for my stomach to start making some noise-but I found the exhibit fascinating. I was especiallly intrigued by the documents that describe the secession of churches from the RCA in 1857 and the beginning of the CRC.

It is humbling to read the reasons for separation. They sound unsubstantial, which makes the CRC's beginning seem illegitimate. The important thing is to accept it and move on. I'm glad the RCA has joined the CRC in Sea to Sea. Addressing poverty is a good direction to move together.

My stomach finally gave me permission to eat and I sat with my former church history professor-Henry Zwaanstra. I had lots of questions. Why wasn't I more interested in church history in seminary? I guess I needed some more experience in the present to appreciate the past.

The remaining 20 mile ride to Grand Haven went by quickly. I was about a mile from the entrance when I saw one last water stop. Odd to have one so close to the end. I was going to go past until I saw that they were serving some fruit. Is that blueberries? I pulled in and ran into a longtime friend, Mary Jane Baylor. Connecting with old friends around this ride is one of the unexpected delights of the Tour. (Yesterday I had seen Steve and Flo Mejeur at a stop)

I finally finished the ride and waited for two things-the arrival of my wife and the steak dinner supplied by Home MIssions. My mother surprised me by coming with Cindy. She too wanted to get a feel for the Tour. The steak dinner was delicious-good meat prepared by grillers who knew what they were doing. Mine was a perfect medium.

Day 46: Michigan Rocks! Aye?

2008-08-14T13:56:00.000-07:00

Today was a joyride, on a number of levels.

We rode 82 miles from Indiana Dunes State Park to South Haven. The scenery was exquisite. Much of the route was along Lake Michigan which was beautiful as always. It was cloudy in the morning in Indiana, with rain lurking just ahead of us, as evidenced by the wet roads we kept seeing. I had packed a raincoat as a precaution, but thankfully did not need to use it. Michigan welcomed us with bright blue skies that highlighted the beauty of the lake and the land. When the route took us inland, the woods provided the views.

I rode with Anne and Jerry in the morning. We put 50 miles on by noon (which wasn't bad considering we lost an hour), with a lengthy stop at a coffee shop in Sawyer. There was a headwind, but rotating the lead made it a non-factor. Shortly after noon we arrived at a refreshment stop provided by St. Joseph CRC. There to greet me was Flo Mejeur, who had married one of my college housemates. Steve arrived a bit later. We did a bit of catching up. The fact that they are reading this blog and would go to the effort to connect along the route is so encouraging and affirming.

Talking with them did mean that I dropped off from our highly compatible trio. I biked by myself for a while, then with Hans and Dick until we reached a SAG where they stopped and I didn't. I continued by myself, enjoying the freedom to chant a few psalms as loud as I could.

When Paul and Teresa came up behind me I cut the volume. They moved by me quite easily and I decided I'd had enough chanting and could use some more practical help with the wind. I caught up with them and they graciously pulled me along, Teresa leading the way. I find this surprising, because she has serious enough asthma to require daily management. She could not bike in the mountains, above 7000 feet, because of difficulty breathing. In the lowlands of Michigan, she is a horse! (That is a compliment; it means that she carried me.)

We rode into South Haven about 2:30 and went to one of the local establishments. In view of our entry into Canada next week, the Canadians there educated me in the meaning and proper use of "aye." According to Pieter P. "aye" is a gracious invitation into a conversation. "Nice place for a beer, aye?" How can a person not say something in response? They assured me that if I mastered the use and inflection of "aye" by the time I reach the border I would not need my passport.

After leaving, I still had a mile to ride to get to the camp. It was the hardest mile of the day. My muscles protested, "What are you doing? You've already celebrated the end of the ride; we're not moving!" There was even a hill before the entrance to the school. As I labored up the incline, guess who sped by? Teresa. "Let me pull you in," she said. And she did.

That's grace, aye?

Day 45: Redemption, Seen and Unseen

2008-08-13T18:42:00.000-07:00

Today was a short day, riding from Trinity College to Indiana Dunes State Park, 52 miles. There was an option to go to Roseland Christian Ministries Center, which added 4 miles to the trip. I'd been to Roseland many times, but never on a bike, so, after a bit of hemming and hawing, I decided to go.

The roads were surprisingly smooth, clean, and easy to ride, and the visit was very meaningful. The Ministry Center houses 140 homeless men, women, and children and provides a number of other essential services. The building had originally housed the Back to God Hour. The Back to God Hour left in the late 60's, along with most of the CRC and RCA churches, when "white flight" decimated the Roseland community. What a beautiful story of redemption that the church came back to God and the poor and this building can once be an instrument of blessing.

After leaving Roseland, it was an easy ride to Highland, where 2nd Highland CRC provided a delicious lunch. My father had pastored this church until a stroke prompted his retirement. They had also been very supportive of me during my initial bout with multiple sclerosis and Cindy during her struggle with cancer. It was a special treat to see some familiar faces who could appreciate the joy of my pedaling and Cindy's 20 years of remission. Another pleasant surprise was seeing a former chaplain intern there. Peter Oh has just accepted the call to be the pastor at Beacon Light CRC.

Seven of us then took advantage of an offer to tour the community of Beacon Light and the broader area of Gary, Indiana. Our tour guide was John Hoffmaster, director of "The Old Firehouse Community Center", a ministry to the "Black Oak" community of
Gary for the past 18 years. He inspired us with his passion for Christ and knowledge of the community's people and stories.

Among the sights he showed us was the 800? square foot home of "The Jackson Five" and the theater in downtown Gary where they had once performed. The marquee still advertises their performance, though several of the letters are missing, and you had to fill in the blanks to figure out who was being advertised. The theater has long been abandoned.

We ended our tour at a magnificent structure that had been City United Methodist Church. It had been built in 1925 with the heavy support of US Steel. From a distance the building still looks impressive, with its massive stone blocks, but then you notice the vacant areas where the wood has rotted away, and you wonder, "What's going on here?" Up close you realize that it too has been abandoned and when you go inside you see a decrepit, dangerous shamble of a building with piles of rubble, a ceiling that arches 75-100 feet over the sanctuary, except where it has fallen down, and a few old car seats that indicate recent use as a refuge either for sleep or drinking (there's evidence of both).

Unlike the Back to God Hour building, there was no one to redeem this facility. Perhaps one day Gary will have enough money to knock it down, before somebody gets killed by falling debris.

We gathered in a circle in that sanctuary and prayed for the redemption that only Jesus can provide. In that moment I believe this blight on the city of Gary and the people of God was once again a house of prayer. We couldn't see the glory of God; there were no angels to announce it, but I believe God was there, in all his glory, as at Bethlehem and Calvary. Redemption! It gives me hope for dealing with the ruins of my life.

After the tour we biked the remaining 25 miles to the State Park. Half of it was along a bike path that was truly splendid. This time Marti and I did not get lost.

Glory be to God!

Day 44: Lost and Found

2008-08-12T14:40:00.000-07:00

What a marvelous ride! Today we rode from Woodstock to Palos Heights, a trip that was supposed to be 82 miles. Half of the ride was on the Prairie Trail/Fox River Trail. The scenery was beautiful, biking through the woods, beside a river, and beneath a canopy formed by the trees. Many of us stopped at a trailside coffee shop for early morning refreshments. Delightful! I didn't even mind the hard packed dirt/gravel that formed much of the trail.

Come to think of it; it formed too much of the trail. At our Peloton (whole group of bikers) Meeting the night before, the director of operations said that the trail was paved. My partner, Marti D., and I also began to wonder how come we weren't seeing any other bikers. We were rolling and hadn't caught up to anybody. The last time we saw anybody else was when the trail detoured and Marti and I took a shortcut through the detour.

When the trail crossed a major road there was a posted map of the trail system. There was a star that identified where we were; it wasn't close to where we were supposed to be. Where did we go wrong? Apparently our "shortcut" had picked up a different trail. What do we do? Backtrack? Try to get back on the right trail as quickly as possible? Make our own route through Chicago?

We rode to a gas station and looked at a Chicago map. Making our own route didn't look that tough. We decided to give it a go. Traffic was heavy, but Marti is an excellent traffic biker, and I just followed her. She "commanded" the traffic, signaling "stop" when we needed to merge or get into the left turn lane. The amazing thing was that the Chicago motorists, notorious for their bullheadedness, obeyed. Planning our own route and navigating through Chicago traffic was a blast!

When we started on our route, we were confident that we would get to Trinity College; we just thought it would take us a little longer, especially with all the traffic lights. Our route turned out to be a shortcut, saving about 8 miles and more than 1/2 an hour.

When we arrived at Trinity the early arrivals praised me for the good (meaning "fast") ride I had had. Nathan said, "Jim, I'm impressed!" Others were surprised that I had gotten there so early; they had blown by me in the early stages of the ride. I accepted their praise/curiosity and decided I'd tell them about the shortcut later...maybe.

Some might think I now owe the tour 8 miles for taking a shortcut. I figure Marti and I get bonus miles for creativity.

Day 43: "Far out" in Woodstock

2008-08-11T14:45:00.000-07:00

Today I rode a delightful 81 miles from Madison to Woodstock. Here's some of the things that made it enjoyable:
1. An extra hour and 1/2 of sleep this morning because I didn't feel like getting up.
2. A renewed appetite for oatmeal (It hadn't sounded good since the first week; I thought I might have permanently damaged my taste for it by "ODing" on it the first few days)
3. Good conversation with my riding partner, Mark F.
4. Mostly County Roads with limited traffic.
5. Beautiful weather, with a weak headwind, throughout the day.
6. The chance to watch a hawk up close.
7. A wonderful lunch provided by Delavan CRC, featuring an assortment of pasta, jello, and garden salads, Italian Beef and Sloppy Joes, and playful conversation with members of the church.
8. A phone call from my son Michael, who has just returned to the States from a week in El Salvador. He thought it was a great way to end his internship.
9. An unexpected stop for free ice water, handed out by a group of physically and mentally impaired residents of a group home. As I thanked them, one replied that their goal was to share the love of Jesus and inspire people to love each other. I believe they accomplished both of their goals. I pray that God will use Sea to Sea as he used them.
10. Plenty of leg strength and "seat comfort" for the ride.

What can I say in response to all these blessings? In Woodstock, the only appropriate response is, "Far Out!" God is so groovy!

Day 42: Madison Sabbath

2008-08-10T19:15:00.000-07:00

Today was a day of rest; it was much needed and much appreciated. I slept in till 7, which seemed sinfully late. Breakfast was followed by quiet time and then a Celebration Rally at 9:30. The service was meaningful and highlighted by a jazz rendition of the Billie Holliday song, "God Bless the Child."

After lunch, which could be nothing other than Wisconsin Brats, I went to the home of the Gabrielse and enjoyed their pool and later the solitude of a fire pit back in the woods. When I returned to camp I listened briefly to a choir, went and read a book, and then cleaned my bike in preparation for the new week.

It is very strange being at the end of the 6th week, 2/3 of the Tour completed. Part of me longs for home and familiar people and routines; part of me is protesting, "This can't be ending already." I believe I am being called to another kind of surrender-the surrender that lets go of something wonderful in the hope of the wonders that lie ahead. I do not want to cling to God's blessings but receive them "with open hands," (Henri Nouwen's book on prayer) as I cling to God. I also believe that God will help me answer that call.

Today was a good Sabbath.

Day 41: Hello Madison!

2008-08-09T20:57:00.001-07:00

Today was a wonderfully brief day of riding-72 miles. After back to back to back centuries (114, 113, 100) we were ready for something a bit less demanding.

We began riding in the rain. The previous night our weather reporter told us there was a 20% chance of rain, and our Fennimore host assured us it wouldn't rain. I didn't trust him, and, after the meeting, went and put the fly on my tent. I awoke at 5 am to the sound of gently falling rain, which quickly became not so gently falling rain. I felt so wise as I snuggled down into my sleeping bag. When a few drops splattered on the inside floor of the tent, and then on my face, my smugness was quickly dispelled. My wonderful, Sierra Designs Tent leaks.

The rain was mostly over by the time we started riding, and the day became very pleasant. I rode the first half by myself and then joined up with Anne, Ed, and Joan for the trek into Madison. I have to tell you, Wisconsin is beautiful! And the roads are smooth. One of our Wisconsin riders said, "They ought to be; we pay some of the highest state taxes in the country." I expressed my appreciation for his sacrifice.

Inspite of the excellent roads we did our first off road biking. We took a bike path (former railroad) for 8 miles to avoid a dangerous section of highway. The crushed gravel was pretty solid and permitted us to ride fairly fast. "Pretty" and "fairly" indicate that I rode quite cautiously. Still, riding through the woods was a nice change of pace.

We all met at a park about a mile from our final destination, Crossroads Church, and completed the ride as a group. When we arrived at the church, we were greeted by cheering people waving signs, a brass quartet, and the district alderman. The church provided shuttles to take us to the showers, area stores, and the laundromat. By supper I was clean, my cothes were washed, and I had bought some much-needed sunscreen.

The church continued to minister to us at night, showing a movie, providing refreshments, and a communication room in which we could blog and check our e-mail. The only negative are the mosquitoes that were swarming over me as I set up my tent at about 9 pm.

Maybe they'll be better now that it is dark. What time to mosquitoes go to sleep? I don't want to go back outside until they're all asleep.

Day 40: Lessons in Vulnerability

2008-08-09T11:47:00.000-07:00

Sometimes tires seem indestructible. Like this morning. We rode what was easily the worst road of the Tour: US-13. For 20 miles we were weaving around potholes and wide cracks and going over innumerable bumps-large and small. That's 20 miles of bump...bump...bump...BANG! With each BANG! my muscles would tense and I'd hold my breath wondering if my tires would survive, especially since it was a large bump that gave me my first flat on Wednesday. My tires and those of my partner, Jim B., took the beating and held their air. Tires are tough!

Then there are other times. We stopped for lunch after 50 miles. As we began to leave, Jim yelled, "I've got a flat!" I stopped and went back to help. We took his bike to the back of the SAG vehicle and went to work. Jim took off the rear tire and gently laid his bike in the grass. A minute later there was a "pfft" and a loud whooshing sound. We looked up and watched his front tire go flat. We were bewildered, "What's going on?" We still don't know. Tires can be so fragile.

After leaving the lunch stop we faced another road problem. This highway was smooth, but very busy, with no safe place to ride. There was a narrow shoulder next to the rumble strip, which would have been acceptable except for the gravel that occasionally covered it. Gravel is a road biker's mortal enemy. A couple of weeks ago I hit some gravel and it quickly took me down. So what do you do? Initially I tried to ride on the shoulder and move into the lane when I spotted gravel. After a few weaves into the road and back onto the narrow strip I decided this was more dangerous than just riding on the road. So that's what I did, as close to the white line as I could ride. This makes for very nervous riding. Frequently my muscles would tense and a small gasp would escape my mouth when a vehicle seemed to come too close. I didn't see much, except the road.

Most of us made it through this tense stretch; one did not. Don adopted my initial approach, weaving back and forth between the shoulder and the road. Unfortunately, there are times when there is both heavy traffic AND gravel; Don found himself boxed in on the shoulder, gripped his handlebars, and prepared to ride through the gravel. He does not remember falling or the first few minutes afterward. His next memory is one of sitting by the side of the road with a couple of motorists and bikers. It took him a while to remember what day it was, and, though he had little pain, his collarbone was still broken. Don is a good biker-he had ridden every mile since Seattle-and he took the same approach on this highway that many others took, but now he will be riding to Grand Rapids in a car instead of on his bike.

When you're on a bike, you're vulnerable.

There's no way around it.

Daily we pray for God's protection, and thank him when the day is done.

Don is thanking God that he fell to the right, off the road, rather than into traffic, and that he didn't injure his head.

Vulnerable, but not unprotected.

Day 39: Back to Back

2008-08-07T14:50:00.000-07:00

Today was another 113 mile day, riding from Algona to New Hampton. I started out by myself and at the 30 mile mark a pace line passed with just enough space for me to squeeze in. Later I joined Anne and Joan and we made a threesome, which worked better in the wind.

The day was beautiful, though the wind was a crosswind instead of a tailwind. I had to work harder than yesterday, but still managed to complete the ride by 3:30. That's 227 miles in 2 days! Tomorrow is another century.

Words cannot describe how grateful I am to be able to do this. One of the main gifts today was the ability to "bike tired." After dealing with a crosswind all day (I was going to say "battling a crosswind" but in my new philosophy I do not "fight" the wind) I was tired by the 100 mile mark. More tired at 105. Then the countdown progressed in mile increments. There was no "wall", no "I'm tired and can't do any more," just "I'm tired, my butt hurts, and I can't wait until I reach the end and can stop pedaling." My body can go as long as my mind tells it to go. I praise God for that strength.

Day 38: A Divine Sweep

2008-08-07T13:42:00.000-07:00

Today I was on the Sweep Team, which means we are responsible for meals, camp clean-up, and making sure everybody gets in safely. Our duties were lightened immensely by the fact that Dordt served us supper last night and breakfast this morning, and put us up in dorms so we didn't have a camp to clean up.

That meant all we had to do was put out the food for lunches. Sounds simple, but when unexpected rain falls a simple task quickly becomes chaotic. First we hustled to get the supplies out by 5:45 am, then we scrambled to cover the food when a light rain began to fall. When the light rain turned heavy we yanked the supplies off the tables and back into the kitchen truck. We set up the large tents we use for protection from rain, moved the tables, and brought the supplies back out. It was all rather comical, which lightened the mood as we prepared for our longest day of the Tour (114 miles).

I left with my partner, Marti D., at 8:10. We rode at a leisurely pace, wanting to keep the slow riders in front of us. We stopped for donuts in Hospers about 15 miles out of Sioux Center, and then stopped for coffee in Primgar, about 30 miles out. The people there were very interested in what we were doing and gave us two freshly baked ginger snaps in support of our cause.

The young woman working the cash register was quite inspiring. Her left arm hung in a sling. She said that she had been in a snowmobile accident that separated the nerves of her arm from her spinal cord. "My arm is totally useless," she said. "I've been to Mayo numerous times and there is nothing they can do about it." When I asked her how she dealt with the loss, she replied, "This has become my new normal; I've adjusted. The main thing is I got my mind back." (There must have been extensive brain injury) What inspired me was her interest in our ride and her effort to write down the details to make sure she got them right. She had indeed adjusted to her loss.

We continued our leisurely pace, talking about life experiences, theology, vacations, and biking. The County Roads were free of traffic and quite smooth, so you didn't need to pay that much attention to your riding. Ha Ha. We turned onto another county road and I felt a large bump. "What was that?" A large rock that had blended in with tar. 200 yards down the road, I again wondered, "What is that?" My bike was riding funny. My first flat!

We got out the tools to change the flat and it started to rain again. A farmer stopped to offer assistance and ended up telling his life story to Marti and making a donation to Sea to Sea. Much as I hated that flat, this wonderful encounter wouldn't have happened without it.

We finally caught up with the slower riders and rode with them for a while. There were another group of Sweepers behind us and so, with 25 miles to go, Marti and I continued ahead. We raced into camp at speeds enhanced by a still tailwind. That's right, on our longest day of the Tour we enjoyed a strong tailwind. Marti is faster and stronger than me, so I had to work my butt off to keep up with her. What a lot of fun! God is good.

This day had it all: Cool temperatures-smooth, open roads-interesting new people-opportunity to share the mission of the ride-wonderful conversation-and some intense biking. With a great deal of satisfaction and gratitude we pulled into camp at 6:20 and focused our appetites on the supper, which was once again magnificent-chicken, mashed potatoes, cabbage salad, and more cabbage salad (it is one of my favorites).

This day had its share of surprises and more than its share of blessings. It was one of those days where everything is taken care of, and nothing is left unresolved. Today it was obvious that God was on the Sweep Team behind me. What a comfort!

Day 37: Just what the doctor ordered

2008-08-05T14:59:00.000-07:00

Today was a light day-60 miles from Sioux City to Sioux Center. Last night most of us slept in the gym of the Sergeant Bluff Family Center. There were a several reasons: 1. It was air conditioned 2. It meant we didn't have to set up and take down our tents 3. There was a possibility of thunderstorms 4. It was air conditioned (that was doubly important).

I intended to get up at the usual time, 5:15, leave early, and finish really early. I woke up at 4:50 to use the bathroom, changed my cell phone alarm to "vibrate" so as not to disturb those who wanted to sleep a bit longer, and slept through the vibrations until 6:15. When I woke up and looked around, the gym was almost empty. And I was sleeping by the door! I guess I needed the sleep. I still managed to leave by 7:30.

The ride was easier than expected, because the headwinds were less than forecast and the temperature didn't get above 85. We also had a refreshment stop at the 45 mile mark-smoothies and root beer floats. Kudos to the Ireton CRC.

Dordt College has treated us royally. We're staying in an air conditioned dorm. They are serving us dinner and breakfast. I'm composing this blog on computers they are providing. There is a bike store 5 blocks away where I could take care of a nagging problem. And, to top it off, their showers are awesome!

I have appreciated the showers in every place where we've stayed. In some places the water trickled out; in others there was no hot water, in others there was only hot water, in some the floor was slippery or dirty, yet, when you sticky and smelly with sweat "IT'S ALL GOOD!" But the Dordt showers-permit me to elaborate-there were private stalls for each of us-the water came out forcefully-the termperature was easily regulated-and the floors were clean. There waw even a hook for my towel! I didn't want to get out. I don't know if Dordt promotes their showers in the advertising, but they should.

The guy at the bike store said something very interesting. "The beginning of tours are exciting because of their novelty. The end of tours are enjoyable because they're almost done. It is the middle part that is the most difficult to deal with." "Yes!" I said, "we're in the middle of this tour and I've been having an especially tough time lately." Another rider echoed my evaluation. "The answer," he said, "is relationships. You have to depend relationships with other bikers to get you through the doldrums."

O.K. doctor, I'll try shifting my attention from the biking and the scenery to the people with whom I'm biking, and see what happens.

Day 36: Head games and Headwinds

2008-08-04T19:09:00.000-07:00

Today we rode 89 miles from Fremont, Nebraska to Sioux City, IA. There were a number of back roads which made for easy, scenic riding(if you have an eye for rolling corn and soybean fields), and the highways we traveled were not overly busy. Nebraska bid farewell by crying a few raindrops on us and lowering its temperature and humidity. I appreciated the gesture.

Though traffic was relatively light, one of our riders was involved in an accident with a car. The car turned in front of her, apparently not seeing her, and she smacked into the side. She was shaken up and will probably have some new colors on her body tomorrow, but insisted on finishing the ride after replacing her bent front tire.

This was one of my toughest rides-not because of roads, or equipment, or weather-but simply because I was lethargic. Not sure why, probably a combination of things, but it made riding a chore. The strength was there, but the desire was not. I tried a number of tools to put myself in a positive frame of mind-chanting some favorite psalms-talking with other cyclists-praying-I even ate some "freezies" that were graciously provided at one of the stops. I remained flat and weary.

All right, "flat" it shall be. At least my mood fit the geography; I was pedaling through the Missouri Valley.

When I crossed the Missouri into Iowa and turned north I was met with high winds. The weather report I had seen on Saturday warned of high winds, but said they would come from the south. They most certainly did not.

I am happy to report, yes "happy," that I did not get angry, did not curse the wind or the weatherman, didn't even grit my teeth, just downshifted and kept pedaling. I also encouraged myself with little positives, "You're a good wind rider." "You're really pedaling strong." "Isn't it great that you're not fighting the wind."

If anything, the headwinds blew my lethargy away. I guess that makes them an answer to prayer. Who would have thought? "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways," declares the LORD. (Isaiah 55:8) I'll "amen" that verse, and keep praying for tailwinds, especially for Wednesday (113 miles), Thursday (113 miles), and Friday (100 miles).

Day 35: Heat and Hospitality

2008-08-04T15:13:00.000-07:00

Today was sweltering, 110 degree heat index. This heat is very different than the dry heat we've been experiencing. Dry heat is intense and light. Humid heat is heavy; it feels like it is pushing you into the ground.

How providential that we are camped at a YMCA that features a hockey rink. Some of the Canadian riders took advantage of the opportunity to play hockey on Saturday night. Where they found the energy is beyond me. I just enjoyed the air conditioning, and the even colder air rising off the ice.

There were two Celebration Rallies-one in Omaha at Prairie Lane CRC, the other in Lincoln at Northern Lighthouse Church. I went to Lincoln, where church life is centered on a ministry to inmates who are reentering society.

The service was vital and full of life. There were two adult baptisms, by immersion, which made it especially meaningful. The music was wonderful, led by a band with a country western flavor. The message was about stewardship and the importance of establishing a "margin" from which one can give. The pastor, Sam Kaiser, based the message on instructions about gleaning in the OT and the story of Ruth and Boaz. Giving from one's "margin" (extra) seems like an important complement to the "firstfruits" approach to giving. Afterward there was a potluck, delicious as always. I cannot think of a single meal I have not enjoyed on this Tour. Some have been better than others, but my hunger has made them all taste good.

The only drawback to the Lincoln service was that the bus ride took over an hour each way. We didn't get back till after 1 pm, which made the day seem too short. Still, the blessings of worship far outweighed the inconveniences of travel. Plus, I had a couple of good conversations with fellow riders on the bus ride.

Some of our group did not go to to either service, but wandered over the Lutheran Church next to the YMCA. This church, Good Shepherd Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod- showed us the hospitality of God. They had just dedicated their new facility in June, and yet they opened it up to 145 scruffy bikers to lounge in, play in, meet in, sleep in, and snack in. And, they supplied the snacks! All day long! I can't say enough about how gracious they were to us. I'd call it a contemporary version of footwashing (John 13).

I couldn't sleep in my tent because of the heat and the lack of wind, which combined to make for a stifling atmosphere. After a valiant effort-which included opening the door of tent and positioning my head in the opening-I grabbed my mattress, sleeping bag, and pillow and headed for the ice rink. There I slept great.

Day 34: Yahoo in Wahoo!

2008-08-02T13:19:00.000-07:00

I was longing for Wahoo-"25 miles to Wahoo, Nebraska-20-10-5-4-3-2-1.5-1.25....." We were struggling with a "three club" southeasterly wind (20-30 mph). The wind was hitting us on an angle (we were going east) which makes it difficult to draft. Still, the three of us did our best to support each other, while we counted down the miles to Wahoo. In Wahoo we would be making a left turn-north-which would put the wind at our backs. A three club wind at one's back is a biker's dream. Today, Wahoo is a place where dreams come true.

I should probably also mention that there was a heat advisory in the area. The temperature was not as high as we experienced in the Utah desert, but this heat came with humidity, which magnifies the effects of the heat on one's body. "I'm sweating like a pig," said Bill. We drank constantly.

And then we arrived in Wahoo. At the corner of the first stoplight was a "DQ like" ( I forget the name) ice cream stand. I was torn between hurrying to the much anticipated left turn and stopping for some ice cream. Other bikers were congregated there, which helped us decide to stop.

As I walked to the counter, ice cream was sounding better and better. "Do you take plastic?" I asked the attendant. All I had was a credit/debit card. "I'll check," she replied. Either she was new or the stand was new. She returned with a heart-breaking word, "No, we don't."

I quickly adjusted my desires, "Can I have some ice water?" "Sure", she responded eagerly. She seemed to feel bad denying me the ice cream cone. I think the weeping and wailing let her know I was disappointed.

While she got the ice water the owner came to the window. "Are you the guy who asked about the credit card?" "Yes." "Let me just give you the ice cream cone; I can see that you're really hot."

I thanked her profusely and walked away with two cold treats-ice water and a soft serve ice cream cone. It was the best ice cream cone I have had in a long time. I had to eat it fast; the soft ice cream seemed to dissolve in the humid heat. But I worked fast and managed to lick around and around and keep the dripping to a minimum. "I can tell you really like that cone," said another rider, "You've got ice cream on your nose and your glasses."

We left the stand, found the wonderful left turn, and finished the 96 mile ride.

Wahoo is my New Jerusalem-the longed for city where life's struggle ends. I will be so hungry when I arrive. The good news is that there will be a feast in progress. The bad news is that they won't accept what I've got to give-not my money or accomplishments or associations. The Good News, as I understand it, is that the host will intervene, "Just come to the table; I can see you're really hungry."

"Take, eat, remember and believe..."

This meal, like ice cream in Wahoo, will be heavenly.

Day 33: It isn't about the wind

2008-08-01T13:49:00.000-07:00

Today was a remarkable day! We biked 93 miles from Minden to York, Nebraska, INTO the wind. It wasn't a light breeze, or a hurricane either, just a strong 15-20mph wind, a two club wind if I was playing golf.

Last night, when Katrina, our weather reporter, told us about the wind direction, there was once again a collective groan. We had just enjoyed a stiff, day-long tailwind; now that same wind would be blowing in our faces. In small group we prayed about being flexible and open to the new blessings God had in store for us, which apparently would not be the same blessings we had just enjoyed.

Most of us left camp earlier than usual to beat both the heat and the wind. I left at 6:45, which means "springing" into action at 5:15. The first hour and 1/2 was calm. Then the winds picked up and my speed dropped from an easy 15-16 mph to a strenuous 11-12 mph.

I tried to look at the wind in the same way I came to see the mountains-a challenge and an opportunity, rather than an enemy. I was riding by myself, chanting some psalms I've committed to memory, praying, and thanking God for the myriad of blessings that I've been enjoying. Negative thoughts would creep in, like, "You're not going to get in till supper time," and "Quit playing mental games and deal with reality; this wind sucks!"

I persisted in putting a positive spin on the wind. No sooner had I prayed, "God, I just know there's going to be a blessing today," than Johnny (one of the stronger riders on the Tour) raced by me, followed by Marti (with whom I often ride). She motioned for me to join them. I was reluctant because I thought they were going too fast, but decided to give it a go. Drafting once again enabled me to ride faster and easier than I could by myself.

After a mid-morning break Marti and I continued by ourselves. She'd "pull" me for a while, and then I'd pull her. Sometimes we'd ride side by side and chat. A good riding day for me will have three components-some time alone, some time knocking out the miles in a pace line, and some relational time. This day had all three.

It was a very good day! Even though the conditions were not so good. The quality of my riding day does not depend on the whimsical movements of wind, temperature, and other external realities; it depends on the attitude I bring to the day. I'm reminded of a quote, though I've forgotten the source, "The mind is its own place; it can make a heaven out of hell, or a hell out of heaven." Today I refused to allow the wind and my demanding spirit to spoil a perfectly good ride.

I think I was helped in dealing with this challenge by a very surprising gift I received last night. A friend from Grand Rapids, Dave Shatto, suddenly appeared at camp, with a big smile and even bigger Payday candy bars. He was "in the area" (which means Nebraska) and decided to drop by to see and support me. What a blessing!

What I experienced last night and today is that "it isn't about the wind; it is about love." Love for God, love for others, and love for self. When the Spirit of love is blowing, nothing, not even a stiff headwind, can spoil the blessing.

Day 32: "Smooth as a Baby's Behind"

2008-07-31T12:00:00.000-07:00

"Smooth as a baby's behind" is a phrase I first heard from my painting boss (35 years ago) to describe how he wanted the wood to feel after I was done sanding it. The words popped into my mind as I rode the 96 miles from McCook to Minden. The metaphor does not describe my skin or my style; it describes the shoulder of the Nebraska Highway on which we rode for 95 miles. My painting boss would have loved the tar finish of US-34!

The ride didn't start that way. As we were leaving McCook I started to get an attitude about the deep cracks in the shoulder. The state police want us to ride on the shoulder when possible. After a couple of miles of hands, arm, butt, and bike jarring bumps I resolved that I was not going to ride like that all day, not with a much smoother road a rumble strip and white line away. I prepared my argument, if a policeman stopped me (as happened to a fellow rider). "Officer, I would love to ride on the shoulder, but those cracks are doing great bodily harm." I hoped he might by Lutheran and would be moved by a sincere, "Here I ride; I can do no otherwise."

And then a few miles out of McCook the road changed-new tar-miles and miles of new tar-60 miles of new tar!-not so new as to be sticky-just new enough to be consistently smooth.
My whole body appreciated the efforts of the Nebraska Department of Transportation.

As if that were not blessing enough, we rode most of the 96 miles with a TAIL WIND. "Gloria in excelsis Deo!" The smooth roads and persistent wind made it much easier to go up and down the Nebraska hills, and there were a lot of hills. I fell into a routine-grind up the hill and coast down the other side. About the time I started getting weary of the hills, they ended. The last 30 miles was all slightly downhill with the wind at our backs. Can it get any better?

I can only smile when I think about how tired I was last night and this morning. "Another 90 plus mile day" I groaned. And then it turns into a great riding day. "Praise God from whom all smooth roads and tailwinds flow."

Day 30: Drafting into Wray

2008-07-29T16:07:00.001-07:00

The weather forecast, delivered by Katrina, our very own weather woman, said that the winds would be out of the east at 7-15 mph. We all groaned. We can deal with 90-95 degree heat; it is the wind that raises the most concern.

I thought today was going to be a really hard day-90 miles into the wind. I left at 7 am, committed to making as much progress as I could before the winds got stronger. After and hour and a half a small pace line cruised past and invited me to join them. I jumped on board and spent the rest of the day enjoying the good graces of riders who were stronger than me and willing to take the wind for the rest of us. What a gift!

The day was not hard at all. With a long break for treats we still arrived at camp by 2:30. And I wasn't nearly as drained as the day before. You have to be careful with pace lines-accidents can happen so quickly-but what a blessing when you're riding into the wind.

The one negative to the day was a fall I had as I eased onto some gravel at one of the stops. The rider in front of me went over the gravel and it looked solid, but as soon as I got onto it my tire dove down deep into the soft earth, and down I went. I survived the accident with little damage; the biggest injury was to my pride. I think that will recover.

Tonight I'm praising God for a community that eases my journey.

Day 29: Bumping out of Denver

2008-07-29T15:30:00.000-07:00

Good-bye mountains; hello plains.

We rode out of Denver on a bike path that went along the South Platte River. The path was in great shape, without any of those nasty traffic blocking poles that claimed two of our riders in Seattle.

This ride presented two challenges, make that three: first of all, the wind was in our faces. It is amazing the difference that makes. One of the riders said that he would rather climb a pass than bike into the wind. Those of us who heard him agreed. Why is that? Why is it more frustrating to go 10 mph into the wind than 5 mph (3 if you buy into the "go slow" technique) up a mountain. One rider's theory is that the mountain draws your best effort out of you while the wind detracts from your best effort. I hope we get some tail winds for our many miles through the plains. But if we don't, if the wind blows in my face, I hope I can embrace it as part of the challenge, rather than view it as an enemy.

The second challenge was the heat. Colorado has had 18 days over 90 in a row and are on the verge of setting a record. The forecast for the week is more heat. Temperatures in the 90's together with a strong wind suck the liquid out of you. It is hard to drink enough. At the end of the day it was clear that I had lost that contest. When I got to camp I drained 48 ounces of lemonade and was looking for more.

The most difficult part of the day were the regular, body jarring bumps in the road. We rode on frontage roads for about 20 miles and each of them had deep cracks every 20-25 feet. Bump...bump...bump...............After a few miles my rear end, shoulders, arms and hands all began to protest. Fortunately, they accepted my apology and agreed to complete the ride.

One of the highlights of the ride was a stop at a small restaurant to get something to drink. My two riding partners ordered pie and ice water; I went for a large Sprite. We chatted with the restaurant staff and customers about Sea to Sea and handed out a few cards. When we got up to pay, the owner said, "It's on the house." She extended the same generosity to about 12 other Sea to Sea riders who came in after us. After thanking her profusely we completed our ride.

The main excitement at the camp was the wind. It blew hard as black clouds rolled in, intimidating some riders into abandoning their tents. Many slept in the gym. The clouds leaked a few sprinkles and that was the end of the storm, except for the beautiful double rainbow that graced the sky.

The first day on the plains was complete. We were all saddened by an accident that put one of our riders out of the tour. She hit an object in the road, fell off her bike and broke her pelvis. Saturday a rider had hit the bike in front of him, flew over his handlebars and broke his collar bone. Accidents happen so fast. We're all praying for speedy recoveries and protection.

I went to bed early and slept soundly till morning. Others were awakened by a helicopter that flew over at 11 pm. They were surprised that I could sleep through all the noise.

Day 28: Blessed be the Name of the Lord

2008-07-27T17:01:00.000-07:00

As I write I am sitting in a beautiful hotel room in Denver. Cindy and I are spending Saturday and Sunday night in the lap of luxury as a reward for my month and her week of tenting (she was at the family gathering in Estes Park before joining me).

We pulled ourselves away from these surroundings to attend the Celebration Rally at a local school's football field. It was hot! The sun was blazing! We used the liturgies to shield ourselves from the sun's relentless rays. After the call to worship, Cindy said, "I don't know if I'm going to make it through the whole thing." I wondered, "How can anybody worship in this heat?"

Then the band launched into "Blessed Be Your Name," and I struggled to choke back the tears. Then I just let them flow. If you've been reading my blog regularly you're probably thinking, "Jim sure cries a lot." On this tour, I do. I consider that one of this event's great graces.

That song is my son Michael's song-the one he has on his facebook page-the one he chose as he dealt with a very complicated and dangerous growth on his back, one that ultimately required surgery at Johns Hopkins Hospital, in Baltimore. Here's some of the words:

"Blessed be your name in the land that is plentiful,
Where your streams of abundance flow, blessed be your name.
Blessed be your name, when I'm found in the desert place,
Though I walk through the wilderness, blessed be your name."

Blessed be your name when the sun's shining down on me,
When the world's all as it should be, blessed be your name.
Blessed be your name on the road marked with suffering
Though there's pain in the offering, blessed be your name.

Refrain:
"Every blessing you pour out I'll turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord, still I will say,
'Blessed be the name of the Lord...

"The desert place"-that would be where I have been when multiple sclerosis attacks-where Cindy was when she had a bone marrow transplant that threatened her life as much as the cancer-where my son David was when he developed the same cancer as his mother-and where Michael was when they said he had a mysterious growth on his back that required the services of the best neurosurgeon we could find.

"The land that is plentiful"-that would be where I am as I bike through Washington, Idaho, Oregon, Utah, and Colorado-where Cindy is as she thrives as a wife, mother, teacher, and friend-where David is in his new marriage to Julia and in his work for Young Life-and where Michael is as he considers seminary and prepares for another promising soccer season.

As I bike I remember the desert places and marvel at the present land that is so plentiful. And with each pedal stroke my nerves and muscles and bones, and occasionally my lips, cry out, "Blessed be the name of the Lord." And with my tears, my eyes join the chorus.

Day 27: A Fond Farewell to the Mountains

2008-07-27T15:33:00.000-07:00

This was a very emotional day for me. Lots of tears and laughter. It started Friday night, at the Peloton meeting, when our chaplain, Len Riemersma, encouraged us to remember Elizabeth ?, who was paralyzed three years ago while training for 2005's Sea to Sea event. That started me thinking about paralysis. She went from the bike to the wheelchair; I have moved from the wheelchair to the bike. As I biked I cried, and I would be hard pressed to tell you whether they were tears of joy or tears of sadness, tears of gratitude or tears of lament. All I know was that as I pumped my legs the waters in my eyes were released.

Berthoud Pass was the last mountain pass of this tour. I am sad about that, because I have grown to love the passes. They are hard, but I also found them exhilarating. They challenged me, pushed me to my limits of strength and endurance, and then humbly allowed me to stand victorious on their summits.

I found Berthoud to be the easiest of the passes. The grade was moderate, the scenery delightful, and my "go slow" technique continued to improve. My goal for the initial passes-Stevens and Bluett-was simply to get to the top. In the last few passes my goal shifted from completing the climb to enjoying it. Maybe it also helped that I knew that Cindy, my wife, was waiting for me at the top, along with Phil Quist and some watermelon.

Racing down the other side of Berthoud was thrilling. I flew past the spot where 15 years ago I lost a transmission while pulling a tent trailor. There was a slow pick-up in front of me, for whom I needed to brake occasionally. I thought about passing him on the shoulder, but decided that it may not be all bad to be restricted to 35mph, especially with some of the hairpin turns. And during the longer straight-a-ways his speed increased and I could go between 40 and 45.

The hardest thing about the ride was finding my way. For a time I raced behind two young women, until I realized that they were not with the Tour. Still, they seemed to be heading in the right direction-downhill-toward Denver-alongside I-70, and I didn't want to stop to check my directions, so I just pedaled on. We finally stopped where a bike path intersected the road. Our directions told us to turn right on a bike path, and these obviously experienced women looked at our maps and agreed that this was the path we were supposed to take. My partner and I happily pedaled on, until the path dead-ended. Do you think they were trying to ditch us?

We wandered around a bit, enjoyed some Colorado hospitality as people we encountered did their best to help us find our way. Finally, a couple with a bike on top of their SUV, told us to follow them and then led us through Idaho Springs to the bike path we were supposed to be on.

After meandering along this path we finally reached US-40 and the infamous "Floyd's Hill." If you look on the elevation chart in "Shifting Gears" you will see this little rise at about the 45 mile mark. It looks insignificant, surrounded by the dramatic decreases in altitude. It is not. It rises almost 1000 feet in the short distance of about 3 miles. In other words, Floyd's Hill is steep! To make matters more difficult there was a strong headwind trying to blow us backwards.

Several of the cyclists found it easier to walk their bikes up the hill, rather than ride. I found it exciting to reach a new speed of 2.6mph. This was about the same speed as the walkers were moving, maybe a bit less. However, as I delighted in my slowness, I found it possible to ascend Floyd's Hill without stopping.

The ride down into Denver was amazing. We rode along Bear Creek, through a canyon that made it difficult to keep your eyes on the road. On one side of the road was the creek and a number of elegant homes. On the other side were the walls of the canyon-at times rounded into hills, at other times appearing as sheer cliffs. And to top it off, partway down, there were two supporters waiting with an ice chest full of POPSICLES.

I was cruising when I saw them waving a Sea to Sea sign. It is hard to hit the brakes when you're coasting along at 25 mph. Then I heard them yell "popsicles", and I clamped down on my front and rear brakes and eased onto the gravel where they were parked. After eating a grape AND a cherry popsicle (I exercised a lot of self-control to keep from asking for an orange popsicle and completing the trifecta) I went back on the road refreshed in body and spirit.

In short, this ride had it all. I can't think of a better way to end our four week tour through the mountains.

Thank...You...Je...sus...

Day 26: Together Again!

2008-07-26T21:26:00.000-07:00

After a week of tough, high-mileage rides today's 34 miler was welcome relief. We rode from Kremmling to Snow Mountain Ranch, a few miles past Granby. Though the ride was brief, there was a lot to see.

We road along the Colorado River, near its beginning. The mighty Colorado has carved out the Grand Canyon, filled up Lake Mead, and now supplies much of the West with the water of life. But here it is a small, sparkling stream. I watched trout fisherman wade through it and ogled a small but spectacular canyon that has been shaped by this river.

I could have spent hours looking at the canyon, but there was something more important to see-Cindy, my wife. She had been camping with my family in Rocky Mountain National Park and family members brought her to Snow Mountain Ranch so we could be together. Other riders stopped at each SAG, visited coffee shops, and meandered through Granby. I made a beeline for Snow Mountain Ranch and got there by noon. That included a brief stop in Granby to visit with a fellow church member who came into town to cheer me on, and bring me another Payday. My cup runneth over!

It had been a month since I had seen Cindy, and had missed celebrating our 27th anniversary. What a delightful reunion! I also got to see my sister and her family and my brother and wife. Their support means the world to me.

Cindy attended the evening's "peloton" meeting, and got just a taste of the community that is forming around this ride. On Friday night we said farewell to the riders who are leaving the Tour in Denver. Each of them talked about what the Tour had meant to them, and there was one person for each of them to say what they had meant to the Tour.

It was a very moving time. One of the things that becomes clear is that riding bikes in community is a therapeutic activity. Life issues have a way of coming to the surface. Sometimes healing, for mind, body, and soul takes place. A bit mystifying to hear how riding bikes together can be that important, but it is!

Day 25: Climbing "Rabbit Ears"

2008-07-26T20:17:00.000-07:00

It is tough to take a pass named "Rabbit Ears' seriously. "Rabbit Ears" suggests something soft, cute, and cuddly. None of those adjectives come close to describing the pass we climbed today. "Rabbit Ears" was seven miles of climbing with a grade of 6 or 7. It should have been called "Cougar Pass," or "Settlers' Folly". Woe to the rider who took this climb lightly.

The climb started at the 50 mile mark. Those first 50 miles were a gradual incline into the wind. Inspite of the headwind the miles went by quickly, for two reasons-three of us shared the burden of boring into the wind, and the scenery was beautiful. This was the first time in weeks that we could enjoy unirrigated greenery.

Just before the ascent I commented, "All we have to do is work hard for the next 12 miles and we can coast home." I did work hard for those 12 miles. It took me more than two and 1/2 hours to get to the top.

For all of its difficulty, the ascent was quite thrilling. I have discovered a climbing technique that works well for me. I go as slow as possible, as in 3-4 mph slow. To go that slow I have to really work on my balance. When I go that slow I can get a moment of rest in between pedal strokes. My breathing remains moderate and I can go at that pace for a long time. When I would climb at 5-6 mph I would need to take frequent breaks and would myself exhausted. My new goal is to see how slow I can go.

After summiting "Rabbit Ears" I had 35 miles to go. Most of it was downhill, which is always a thrill, but there were still some pretty stiff climbs. With all the exertion of the first 60 miles, I didn't have much left for the last 35. With each new climb my legs would protest, "I thought you said we could coast home!" I won't say that again.

I tried to pay attention to the unique mountains and striking rock formations, but, as with school and church, it is hard to pay attention when you are tired. 96 miles was a long ride, especially with a big climb in the middle.

One of the pleasant surprises was seeing some acquaintances from Grand Rapids as I rode into Kremmling. Their interest and support was very encouraging, and their gift of Paydays sealed the deal. Obviously, these are people who really care!

I went to bed as early as I could, put in my ear plugs to protect me from the snorers, and slept till morning.

Day 24: Smooth roads and a tail wind

2008-07-23T15:58:00.000-07:00

At breakfast this morning one of the riders said, "This is going to be a hard day. I feel lousy and we have the same roads, the same heat, and the same distance as yesterday, with more climbing." I steeled myself for the ride.

The road had the same name, US 40, but it was in very different condition. Much smoother with much less traffic and better shoulders. There were clouds that shielded us from the sun's intensity for much of the day. And, for the first time in a long time, the wind was at our backs. Though the distance was the same as yesterday, the experience of that distance was vastly different.

There was a good deal of climbing-lots of rolling hills-but nothing too difficult. Having a wind helping me up the hills makes a big difference. And the panoramic views were stunning!

I celebrated the completion of the ride with a TCBY yogurt cone and ICE water, with real ICE. What a good day!

Day 23: Cycling and C.S. Lewis

2008-07-22T18:49:00.000-07:00

The ride today reminds of something C.S. Lewis wrote. He wrote about the spontaneous joy we often have for new endeavors. When that joy dies, as it must, there is an opportunity to learn to love.

Today I had an opportunity to learn to love this bike tour. There was not much occasion for spontaneous joy. The scenery was striking, but the roads were so bad that you had to stay focused on the tar in front of you. After a few minutes, tar loses its appeal.

The morning started well. I got in a pace line with some young speedsters and we knocked out 30 miles in 1 and 1/2 hours. After taking a coffee shop break I discovered that I could no longer keep up with them and went on my own.

That's when the ride got tedious. We spent most of the day on US-40, which was very busy and had a poor shoulder. As the day progressed, word came from the state police that we should stay off the white line. This instruction was difficult to keep. Utah puts rumble strips just outside the white line. There is very little room between the rumble strips and the white line, and the area outside the rumble strips was frequently narrow and often full of junk-the kind of junk that eats up tires.

So, I spent the day dodging rumble strips, steering between bits of wire, tire, and assorted metal objects. It didn't help matters any that the tar had a gravelly consistency, which makes for a bumpy ride. Add a hot sun and a headwind to the equation and it adds up to a very challenging day.

Nevertheless, I made it to Dinosaur, Colorado in good time, which was my goal for the day, since I wanted to see the fossil digs at the National Park and was told they were accessible from the Visitor Center. Unfortunately, the digs are in Utah and the Colorado site offers a 31 mile scenic drive. At least I got to sleep through a 10 minute video on the Park.

Thankfully, the showers were excellent and supper was delicious. My main gratitude for the day is that one of my fellow riders was not more seriously injured when his seat post broke and he fell off his bike doing 15 mph. He rolled across the center line, skinning his face, side, and leg. Providentially, there was no traffic going either direction, which didn't happen a lot that day. He called for the support vehicle, which took him to a bike shop where he got another seat post and continued his ride.

God's protecting mercies were evident in other ways. Noone was seriously injured, which is quite something when you have 144 bikers on a busy highway with irritable truckers, who want to claim the whole road for themselves.

So, even though there was not much spontaneous joy, this day was truly blessed!

There is something else, not connected with the bike ride that makes this day blessed. My son David celebrated his 24th birthday. The fact that he is a cancer survivor who has been remission for 5 years is a movement of God's providence that dwarfs any of the small irritations and difficulties that come my way.

Day 22: When the Wrong Way is the Right Way

2008-07-21T14:55:00.000-07:00

I missed the turn. I was riding by myself at the time and thoroughly enjoying the slight downhill of the canyon road and its smooth surface. I was singing to express my joy. I thought I heard someone yell at me, but when I listened more closely I didn't hear anything, so I kept motoring.

The main reason I was so happy doing this slight downhill was that an hour earlier I was laboring up the mountain toward Wolf Creek Pass, elevation 9485 feet. This climb had been a surprise. In "Shifting Gears" this was the only day that there was no elevation chart. I initially thought it was because there were no significant elevation changes. Think again, geographical genius. Ed, the Director of Operations, said he couldn't give the elevations because when he drove the route with his GPS, the road was closed due to snow. Meaning? This road goes pretty high.

I asked the park superintendent what he knew about S.R. 32 and he said there was a good climb, but nothing like what we did on Saturday, "Parley's Pass." He said the incline on S.R. 32 was shorter and less steep. Unfortunately, he was talking about the first climb. We began this ascent about 6 miles from camp. He was right; it was a challenging but very manageable climb.

Then came the second climb. At the rest stop at the base of the mountain Walter, our invaluable volunteer, said, "It's 7 miles to the top, and all downhill from there." What a tough 7 miles! The grade was 7 degrees with sections of 8 thrown in for good measure. At this point, after Steven's Pass on the second day and Parley's Pass this past Saturday, I do not doubt that I'll make it, the question is how much it is going to hurt, and how often I'll have to stop.

I refined my climbing technique. I learned that I pedal better if my breathing is coordinated with my pedal strokes. Exhale on the downstroke of my right foot; inhale on the downstroke of my left foot. I also learned that I can get brief moments of rest if I go 4 mph instead of 5. Once again there was great joy at the summit.

The descent was awesome-miles and miles of coasting, at speeds up to 40 mph. And when the steep downhill was over, there was the canyon's gradual downhill as we followed a river. After the exertion of Wolf Creek Pass this easy riding was heavenly.

Which is why I wasn't paying attention to the route. The map was very accessible, but I didn't think I needed it and didn't bother taking it out of my bike shorts to look at it.

Five miles past the intersection where I was supposed to turn a power company electrician signals me to stop and tells me that I missed my turn. "Your fellow riders tried to get you to stop." He had been at that intersection and heard the riders behind me yelling at me. Not only was the intersection 5 miles back, it was UPHILL to get there. My heart sank. Now I took out the map, and examined my mistake.

"But here's the deal," he said. "If you stay on this road, it will take you where you want to go, and it will do it shorter and and with less climbing than the route you were supposed to take." Then, to assure me of his qualifications, he said, "I drive these roads 2-3 times/week. This is the better route to Duchesne. You'll have a climb to get out of the canyon, but it won't be as hard as the climb on the route you were supposed to take."

I decided to trust him and continued on my merry way. The only drawback to this route, besides the fact that it wasn't the "right way," was that I was getting low on water and there wouldn't be any support vehicles to replenish my supply.

Several miles further along this road, an elderly gentleman on a bike stopped me. He had met another Sea to Sea rider and knew where I was trying to go. He proceeded to tell me about the "River Road," which was just before the climb that gets you out of the valley. "If you take the River Road you won't have to do any climbing. It's also a prettier road."

Now my water was critically low and I still had 10 miles to go. There weren't very many houses on this road, and the ones that were there were set far back. Except for this one dilapidated house with a woman holding a Chihuahua. I stopped. She didn't speak English, so I showed her my water bottle. She brought me to her house, showed me the water cooler, and filled up my bottle with COLD pure water.

"River Road" took me right into Duchesne, just like the man had said. It was all downhill and shorter than the route I was supposed to take.

Sometimes the wrong way is the right way.

In life as well as bike rides. That's grace!

Day 20: Thank...You...Je...sus

2008-07-20T09:32:00.000-07:00

This was the ride that never ended-103 miles from Willard Bay State Park to Jordanelles State Park-including a brief detour to Mormon Square in Salt Lake City. I started early-6:30 because the topography showed two big climbs at the end.

By noon we had completed the first 60 miles, visited Mormon Square, had lunch at First CRC, and were ready to begin the ascent. A few blocks after leaving the church, we ran into the first part of the climb-"ran into" is the proper terminology, because this hill looked like a wall. When seen from a distance I comforted myself by saying that it couldn't be as steep as it looked; within the first few pedal strokes that comfort vanished. I quickly shifted into my "Hero Gear"-more commonly and mistakenly named as the "Granny Gear"-and found that I had to stand up on the pedals to make any progress at all. Mercifully "The Wall" was only two blocks long and I made it to the top without dismounting, falling over, or rolling backwards.

The climb leveled off to a more gradual ascent for the next 8 miles, up Emigrant Canyon. The shade, babbling brook, and occasional level places made this climb easier than expected. At the top of Emigrant Road a church hosted a refreshment stand-with COLD water and COLD Gatorade.

Another thrilling descent quickly led to the second climb-a 5 mile segment on I-80. At the church's refreshment stand riders speculated that this climb would be easier than Emigrant Canyon, because it would be "interstate grade." I asked, "Then how come it looks steeper on the topographical map?" My suspicions were deepened when a local rider, upon hearing where we were going, just shook his head.

The first challenge of I-80 was getting onto it. The entrance ramp was painful-not as steep as the hill in Salt Lake City-but steep enough for me to wish I had something lower than my "Hero
Gear."

That wish became a fervent desire the longer I rode on I-80. It was hot and the road was newly tarred, which was a blessing and a curse-a blessing because it was smooth, a curse because it magnified the heat (108 on my bike thermometer). The number of vehicles overheated on the side of the road

It is hard to find words to describe the difficulty of the climb. If my pedals were turning any slower they would be going backwards. I stopped once to rest and drink. I stopped a second time and devoured my last two granola bars, along with more water. When I tried to get started I didn't get my right foot properly clipped in. The first time I stood up on my pedals my foot slipped off the pedal and I fell off the bike. The blood on my knee was my second stigmata from the ride (the first being a large bruise on my butt).

I decided to focus only on my breathing and used my gratitude prayer to energize me. "Thank" (inhale)..."You" (exhale)..."Je" (inhale)..."sus" (exhale). As breathing becomes more rapid the pauses between syllables vanishes, "ThankyouJesus." I find that this keeps my both focused and positive.

I try not to look too far ahead, and switch my odometer so I can't tell how far I have to go. When I'm moving at a snail's pace, any thought of "miles to go" is overwhelming. Out of the corner of my mind I saw a sign "Exit 140-one mile". "ONE MILE!" That means I've already done four! I can do one more! I'll take one more break and finish it off. Before I stopped, I saw the sign that said "Exit 140-1/2 mile." It is amazing what "almost there" does for one's energy level. I pushed the final stretch to the exit ramp (which came after about 1/4 mile because the length of the exit ramp is included in the sign's distance calculations. You don't notice these things in a car, but in "Hero Gear" this information is a providential miracle.) When I hit the decline of the exit ramp I belted out the "Hallelujah Chorus." "Hallelujah, Hallelujah...For the Lord God Omnipotent Reigneth."

At the bottom of the exit ramp I took a wonderful left turn-downhill-and coasted for the next several miles at around 40mph. 40 mph without pedaling once! Hallelujah, indeed!

My tune changed when I hit the next uphill, and the next one, and then, unbelievably I turned onto US-40 and saw a huge hill mocking me, "You think you're done? See if you can handle me, Noodle Legs." By this point I could only laugh. I shifted in "Hero Gear" and motored up the hill with a smile on my face and gratitude in my heart. After cresting the hill, I coasted the final three miles into camp.

One of the teachings of this ride is that there is genuine physical as well as spiritual power in gratitude, and in hope. Another is that, after The Hallelujah Chorus is sung, challenges remain.

Day 19: Easy Does It

2008-07-18T16:03:00.000-07:00

Today we road from Snowville to Willard Bay State Park, just south of Brigham City, about 70 miles. We started on the interstate, which is usually awful, but this section had a newly tarred shoulder which was smooth and clean. And also downhill.

After getting off I-84, I joined a pace line with some of our faster riders. We sped along at 20-24 mph, even though the wind was into us. After 7 miles we reached an uphill that, for some reason beyond my comprehension, doesn't seem to affect their speed, and I, sadly, dropped off.

The highway went past ATK Thiokol, a major producer and tester of rockets. Their display of rockets was quite interesting. The cold water dispensor in the entry way was riveting! I get so sick of luke warm water, which is what I drink constantly. One of the comforts I miss most is my refrigerator/freezer. What I wouldn't give for a popsicle! I wouldn't sell my soul for one, but I'd think about it.

After the rocket display I had only 35 miles to go and rode at a comfortable pace, saving my strength for tomorrow, which looks tough. The road was lousy-newly laid gravel on the tar-the wind was in my face-it was hot-the landscape was barren-and I was content.

The State Park is beautiful. Notice the layered look on the mountain. I took a dip in the lake, then a shower-I missed the hose we used at Snowville, but you can't have everything. The sun is intense. I made the mistake of running across the sand in bare feet to get to the water. Dumb, my tender toes continue to remind me of my folly. Hope they don't object to the bike shoe.

It is a challenge to keep my whole body healthy. On different days different parts of my body object. So far I've heard protests from my rear end, my stomach, my back, my neck, and my feet. Lots of parts have to work together to ride 72 miles/day.

I am grateful for how well my body is doing-the protests have remained mild and temporary. Now, if I could just get that popsicle-grape, if you please- my body and soul would be so happy.

DAy 18: A Day of Surprises

2008-07-17T21:47:00.000-07:00

This was my hardest day on the tour. That surprised me. Today's trip was from Burley, ID to Snowville, UT-86 miles. The topography showed a lot of climbing but the last 25 miles were all downhill. Looked like a nice way to finish.

It would have been, except for the strong, hot wind blowing in our faces. The first 35 miles went well. A couple of pretty stiff climbs, but we were in good shape when we stopped at the gas station for water. Then the wind picked up, blowing from the Southwest, in our faces. After the stop we went uphill for 25 miles. I felt like I would come to a complete stop if I ever stopped pedaling. My goal was to read the 60 mile mark, where the downhill started.

The gas station attendant said that we wouldn't see anything between there and Snowville. She was wrong. I saw a cow, which seemed out of place in the sagebrush wilderness. She was right when she said there would be no shade. It was hot, and got hotter the closer we got to Snowville.

I was exhausted when I finally reached the top, where one of the support vehicles provided a rest stop. "It's all downhill from here," Walter said cheerfully. "Thank God." The surprise was how hard it was to go downhill. I wanted to yell at the wind, "Stop blowing!" but didn't have the energy to scream.

I arrived in Snowville about 4:50. The reason it was so late was that I was on the Sweep Team fo the day, which meant I was the last to leave camp. It also meant that I had to deal with the worst of the heat and wind. The first thing I did in Snowville was go to the local Subway and drink a large glass of pop in air conditioned comfort. The other people in the store were very interested in what I was doing. "You're going where?" "How long?" "Why?" We had some surprisingly good conversations.

After supper I finally got to take my shower. The shower was a triumph of creativity-a tarp stretched over some poles with a garden hose dispensing cold water. Groups of men and women took turns. Once you got over the initial shock of the cold water, it felt pretty good.

The final surprise is how good I feel at the end of this long, hot, draining day. I should be wasted; I should be longing for my bed. Instead, I'm thinking of putting on my headlight and going for a midnight bike ride. Not really, but I'm not nearly as tired as I thought I would be. I don't know why. I guess that's why it's a surprise.

What will tomorrow bring?

Day 17: How old are you?

2008-07-16T20:11:00.000-07:00

One of the younger riders approached me after supper last night and tentatively asked a question, "May I ask how old you are?" "52" I replied, and waited for her to tell me how well I ride for my age, or that I ride like a much younger man. "I thought so. Somebody said that you were 72 and I knew you couldn't be that old." I think I'm a young man; apparently others see me differently.

Last Saturday I heard that some people were going to a local bar for a drink. I decided to join them after doing my wash. I walked onto the porch and discovered a group of about 25 under 30 riders. They cheered. "Intentional Intergenerational Interaction," they said, referring to one of the tour's goals, mixing up the generations. The next day one commented, "He was the only old man to join us." "Old man?"

Yesterday I felt like an old man. After the uphill finish in searing heat, I was drained, and felt like a limp noodle throughout the night. "How am I going to ride 81 miles tomorrow?" The weather report said that it would be cooler, so that gave me a bit of hope.

This morning I paired up with two people I love to ride with, Anne and Marti. Right from start we cruised. Marti is a strong rider and she pulled us along at a fast clip, while I contentedly drafted her, mile after mile. It was "win-win"; she wanted to work hard to get in shape for bike marathons, and I wanted to cover the miles as easily as possible.

Our first stop was a dairy farm, of all places, where the owner offered refreshments and a tour of his operation. Sounded lame, but we wanted to be courteous. It was fascinating! He milks 1700 cows three times a day-that's 5100 milkings each day. He uses a 50 cow carousel that looks a little like a merry-go-round. When a cow makes it all the way around she steps out of her slot and another way takes her place. They wait their turn and step in and out at the right time. Just like clockwork. Workers attach suction cups which automatically detach when a sensor detects low milk flow. Pretty amazing, to a city slicker.

A few miles down the road we suddenly found ourselves at the northern rim of the Snake River Canyon. Initially the sheer walls looked like an open pit mine, like the one off the Tri-State in Chicago, but when we got close we realized that this was something God had done all by himself.
After a few more miles we crossed over the canyon into Twin Falls and took a bunch more pictures. It was breathtaking.

After a delicious lunch provided by the Twin Falls Reformed Church we took a two mile detour to look at the Shoshone Falls. The Snake River thundered over the basalt cliffs with the spray creating a beautiful rainbow. The only downside to the detour was that the two miles were downhill, at times quite steep, which meant that after gawking at the spectacle we had to bike up two miles. When all was said and done, of the three people in our group, two of us thought it was worth the effort, one wasn't so sure.

We then rode the final 35 miles into Burley. We averaged 15.6 mph for the 86 miles (including the ascent from Snake River Canyon), which I think is pretty good for a young man. Now I'm pooped, and the thought of doing it again tomorrow (which is the plan) seems bizarre. I'm counting on a good night of sleep and hoping for moderate temperatures.

Day 16: Lost and Found

2008-07-15T12:57:00.000-07:00

Nobody was on our road. "This is sure a back country," I said, as our 8 person pace line sped through the countryside. "Makes me wonder if we're on the right road," replied the person in front of me. We saw more bikers up ahead and couldn't remember any turn-offs so we just kept pedaling. It was strange that after 15 miles we still hadn't seen any SAG vehicles

Spectacular views ended the pace line. Pace lines are great for knocking out the miles, but not for stopping and taking pictures, and these were too good to pass up. Hills, valleys, mesas, made all the more dramatic by the bright sunlight and shadows.

At one "ooh-ahh" stop a SAG vehicle pulled up and starting taking pictures. The driver commented,
"Good things can happen when you get lost."
"Lost?" "Is this the wrong road?"
"Yes, you're supposed to be on the other side of the expressway. "
"Where were we supposed to turn off?"
"I don't know; we're lost too.

The road was heading in the right direction and we had our cell phones, so we just kept pedaling and enjoying the views. At the 26 mile mark we ran into the road we were supposed to be on. It was one of the more enjoyable experiences I've had while being lost. It helped that for a big chunk of it, we didn't know we were lost, and that for the last few miles we were lost together, and that we had an "if all else fails" option-the cell phone.

My partner was faster than me. A lot faster, but he held back for the sake of conversation, which enabled me to keep up if I pushed myself. I was feeling good about the effort I was expending until he said, "Sometimes I like to push it, but I also really enjoy days like today where I take it easy." I swallowed my pride and continued imposing my newly affirmed slowness on him.

As the day progressed it got hotter and hotter, my bike thermometer, which is artificially high because of the road, said it was 110. It was probably in the mid 90's, and that was hot enough!By the time I reached Gooding I downed a quart of Gatorade and opened a second. It is hard to drink enough when it is hot, dry, and you're expending a lot of energy.

The day was full of grace-a good night's sleep, strawberries on my cereal for breakfast, a compassionate riding partner, getting lost and finding out it didn't matter, a call from my newly married son, David, and cold Gatorade along with oatmeal raisin cookies at the end of the ride. Now I'm thinking it is time for a nap.

Life is good!

Day 15: "Peace, Be Still!"

2008-07-14T16:00:00.000-07:00

"Everything is going great, just great." That's what I told my son at 11:30 last night. When I woke up at 3 am with my stomach churning, things weren't so great. The restroom we could use in the middle of the night was 2 miles away, at least that's what it seemed like. I sat in that restroom from 3 am-5:15. When I finally left, I discovered I couldn't make it back to the tent and had to stop at the Port-a-Pot 1/2 way back. I crawled back into my sleeping bag at 5:30, hoping against hope that I would feel better when the sun came up. In my present state I did not see how I would be able to ride 55 miles.

I didn't sleep, just rested, and hoped. I did not want to skip the day's ride; that would leave a hole in my sea to sea tour. I decided that I would try to ride and call the SAG wagon to pick me up if I had to. To my surprise I had a bit of an appetite at breakfast. Nothing fancy or fatty-just some cereal with lots of fibre. I saw a member of my small group and told him what a tough night I had. He commiserated and empathized. Then I asked him to pray for me. He put his hand on my shoulder and prayed.

In Sunday's Worship Rally the minister had preached on Jesus calming the storm. The storm in my stomach wasn't life threatening, but it did threaten to knock me off the bike. Ralph could appreciate how important it was to me to ride and prayed fervently for my stomach and stamina.

I was one of the last riders to leave the camp. My goal was to survive the ride, take all day if I had to, just get it done, and hope to feel better tomorrow. According to my calculations I had 8 hours to ride 55 miles. Surely I could average 7 mph.

I began the ride rather tentatively. "I don't know if this going to work," I thought as I pedaled up the first hill. At the 7 mile mark there was a large hill that I handled quite well. My confidence shot up. "If I can handle that hill, I'll be able to handle anything this ride throws at me. Just take your time."

As I road through the Idaho desert I felt my stomach quiet down and my strength go up. At the thirty mile mark the wind picked up, most of it at my back. What a gift! I cruised along at 20-23 mph, enjoying my strength and speed. I was no longer trying to survive; I was trying to fly.

When I consider my starting point, I would say this was my best ride of the tour. What a surprise! I am so grateful that Jesus is Lord of all creation, and that all sorts of storms yield to his command.

Day 13: Living Water

2008-07-12T18:42:00.000-07:00

I biked 70 miles today (missed the road I was supposed to turn on and had to backtrack 2 miles) and enjoyed almost every pedal stroke. The weather was excellent, the roads smooth, and there was even a coffee shop with cinnamon rolls on the way.

Speaking of cinnamon rolls, I stepped on the scale this morning at the school gym in Ontario. So far I've gained more than 5 pounds. Yes, I'm burning a ton of calories, but I'm eating a ton and a half of food. The cooks have done an awesome job. Last night they fixed meatballs, mashed potatoes, and that bean casserole with crunchy onions on top. How can you not get seconds? On everything. Later that night we went to a local coffee shop, named "Jolt and Juice", and I got a large smoothie. I reasoned that I didn't get dessert (chocolate pudding and I don't eat chocolate) so I could splurge. After stepping on the scale I figured that I better cut back just a bit-so I only ate two pancakes this morning and split my cinnamon roll with my riding partner. Pretty admirable don't you think? That's the kind of discipline that is going to get me over the Rockies, especially with the extra weight I'm carrying.

The most striking thing about the land is how dramatically it changes. One minute you're riding through fertile fields and the next you're in sagebrush desert and then back again. The surprising thing is that the desert and the field have the same soil. The difference is water. When the government opened up the lands and invited settlers they advertised this place as fertile agricultural land. I can imagine the surprise when people stepped off the train and saw the desert. How can anything grow is this dust? According to the museum I visited yesterday, many of the settlers turned right around and went back east. The ones who stayed learned how to add water to the dust and discovered soil that was perfect for onions and potatoes and corn.

The museum I visited was fascinating. It was funded by reparation moneys that Japanese Americans wanted applied to a museum to tell the story of their internment in WWII. The "Four Rivers Culture Center" told that story well. The biggest irony? ONe of the fiercest divisions in the American army was made up entirely of second generation Japanese. It was called the "Purple Heart Brigade" because so many died in their fearless fighting in the most difficult situations. While they were sacrificing their lives, their families were being kept in internment camps. Mystifying! But then, racism always is.

The museum told other stories, like how the Northern Paiute Native Americans were forced off the land, or rather, confined to a limited part of land, which completely changed their lives and their culture. This quote by an American general was revealing, "The hardest thing is to fight against a people you know are in the right." The general who said it? General Crook. I kid you not. What a name for a man who spearheaded the injustice against the Northern Paiutes.

I also had a great theological discussion with the three year old daughter of the director of operations. She was intrigued by the cross I wear around my neck.
"What's that?"
"A cross"
"About God?"
"Yes, Jesus."
"Is Jesus on the cross?"
"No, this cross remembers what Jesus did a long time ago."
"So, Jesus is not on the cross?"
"No, Jesus is not on the cross."
"That's why there's nothing on the cross?"
"Yes, that's why the cross is empty."
"Because Jesus isn't on it anymore."
"Right."
She was satisfied and bounced away to look at something else. I thought, "Already a Protestant, by the age of three."

Riding through this land of contrasts does make Jesus reference to himself as living water come alive. Our barren times (and lives and communities) are like the sagebrush dessert. We don't need new soil; we just need to irrigate. It's amazing what can grow out of seemingly "useless" soil when the grace of God in Jesus Christ is added. Many years ago, when I cowered before the diagnosis of multiple sclerosis, God said, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Water on dry land.

Time to do my wash. There's a laundromat about a mile from here. I'm hoping to do it all in one load. It breaks all of Cindy's rules about separating colors and using the proper temperatures, but, asI said a few blogs ago, "She's not here."

Day 12: Enjoy it while you can

2008-07-11T13:23:00.000-07:00

Today was our shortest mileage day of the whole tour. The winds were still at our backs and the scenery was still beautiful. I also saw a lot of white pelicans and a great blue heron that took flight from the water right in front of me.

I want to take it in, capture it, remember it so I can play it back. I can't, not even with a camera. I've taken lots of pictures, but I know what I'll say when I look at them later-"Why did you take so many shots of that mountain?"-still, I try. The beauty of bicycling through this country is that I am part of it, not separated from it by the containers known as cars.

That's my goal for the ride-to be part of it-to "just ride"-"incarnational biking." It is surprisingly difficult to do. I keep getting in the way. Mostly my ego and my fears. G.K. Chesterton's words fit the ride as well as my life, "How very much larger your world would become, if you would become smaller in it." Today's text in Shifting Gears was the text for my first sermon, "He must increase; I must decrease." When this happens it is a grace. "Just Ride" is like "Swing Easy," so simple and so elusive.

Today I'm praying for that grace.

Day 11: Biking is a Breeze

2008-07-11T12:29:00.000-07:00

"Piece of cake" describes the ride today. The ride was only 42 miles, most of it was downhill, AND the wind was at our backs. Also, except for a 10 mile stretch on the interstate, the roads were traffic free. Sweet!

Once again the scenery was gorgeous, especially on the interstate when the valley came together and we wound our way through Oregon mountains. Riding on the interstate is a pain. There is so much junk on the shoulder of the road and so much traffic that the surroundings need to be spectacular to break through my defensive mode. This ride met that qualification. The worst part of the ride was a section of I-84 where it was reduced to one lane and the shoulder was shrunk with concrete barriers. Add rumble strips to that limited space and it added up to a tense 5 minute passage. The irony is that the more tense you are, the worse you ride. "Cautious confidence" is the optimal attitude; "fearful uncertainty" best describes my attitude during that one segment. I still managed to wobble through.

I arrived in Huntington at 11:15-the whole afternoon stretched before me. I did the most productive thing I could think of-slept on the grass at the city park. Huntington promotes itself as the "Catfish capital of Oregon." They were obviously stretching. There isn't much in Huntington; their two claims to fame are being a connecting point for the railroad and being the location of the Van Orman massacre in 1860. There are these painted words on the side of the local bar/diner, "All White Help: Good place to eat." A painful reminder of the prejudice against Chinese immigrants who worked on the railroad.

Last night the winds blew. We were camped at the local school which was set up from the town. Around supper time the wind picked up a small tent and blew it end over end the length of the football field. We were confident the embankment at the end of the field would stop it, but the wind blew it up the 15 foot embankment, over the concrete retaining wall and down the road. A tree stopped it momentarily, but then it flew around the tree, finally coming to rest against a fence.

The winds got worse, gusts of 40mph by one estimate. By the time I went to bed several tents had collapsed and a number of riders decided to sleep in the gym. I stayed in my Sierra Designs 4 man tent and watched the wind nearly flatten the front of the tent. I waited for one of the poles to give way and packed up my stuff so I could make a quick exit. But the tent remained solid, yielding to the wind but not giving in to it. Thank you nephew Dan for steering me in the direction of Sierra Designs.

I'd like to think my life resembles that tent-yielding to the winds of adversity, but not giving in.

Day 10: Thus says the Lord

2008-07-09T16:53:00.000-07:00

Last night I asked God what he wanted me to learn on this ride-what spiritual lesson he wanted to teach me. The verse that came to mind was Philippians 2:5ff, "Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus, who did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing..."

Great text! What's the application? I decided God does not want me to try to learn anything, or try to grow in any direction; I heard God telling me, "Just bike!" Let go of the desire for profound thoughts and insightful observations. Let go of the quest for more faith and a deeper surrender. Stop trying to make meaningful relationships. "Just ride" and let the other stuff happen or not happen while I do the most important thing-riding my bike from Sea to Sea.

Today's ride was excellent! Short, 50 miles, but fun. I rode with Anne M. a Canadian speed skater, who just left her job of coaching Canadian speedskaters. Anne holds several Canadian records at the Master's level. We did a lot of story telling as we road-it made the one uphill segment fly by. She appreciates athletics and could resonate with the stories of David's and Michael's comebacks.

The ride was through a valley. It took 20 miles to get to the climb, 10 miles to make the climb, and 20 fairly flat miles to get to Baker City. We pushed each other and discovered that each of us thought we were holding the other one back. That means we're good partners.

When we arrived at Baker City, the gear truck was not yet there, so we lounged around under a giant sycamore tree at the front of the school, ate the lunches we had packed that morning and talked with other riders who came in.

I had a meaningful conversation with George, whose daughter-in-law had died of breast cancer after a 7 years struggle. I told him about Carol and as I described the last week of her life, could not get the words out that conclude the story, "She died on Friday morning."

I haven't cried about Carol in a long time; something about all this physical motion releases other emotions.

"Just bike" said the Lord-and I feel things I haven't felt in a long time. Tricky God.

Day 9: Diversity all around

2008-07-09T16:34:00.000-07:00

I left Pendleton early-7 am. To leave by 7 I have to get up by 5:30. You read that right. Jim "late night"Holwerda is getting up at 5:30 to ride his bike. It takes a while to get going in the morning because there are limited bathroom facilities-primarily, two stalls for 80 men. That tends to create a jam in the morning. It also takes a while to take down my tent, load my gear, eat breakfast, pack a lunch, and check out the bike.

The early morning effort was worth it. The ride started with a gradual uphill out of Pendleton, which became a steep uphill, with a number of switchbacks and grand views of the surrounding countryside. The road we were on had almost no traffic-a local estimated the traffic flow at 10-15 vehicles/day.

After cresting the hill we came down in woods-just like that-from no trees to a few trees to a forest, in the space of 30 miles.

The geographical diversity was matched by the diversity of roads we traveled-from sparsely traveled backroads to the Interstate-which was the only way to get to our destination-LaGrand. I road with a number of different people and practiced a variety of riding styles-from an extended uphill grind to downhill speed. I talked to a policeman who was on the lookout for speeders on the interstate. I told him I'd keep it under 80. What fun to coast for miles at 30 mph after laboring for more than an hour at 6 mph.

LaGrand was, well, grand. A wooded campsite in the city park. I was done with the 60 mile ride by 2:30 and used the extra time to do my wash and browse around downtown. Wash is easy-just take the day's dirty clothes into the shower and soap them up along with the rest of my body. My socks are starting to look a bit grimy, but the bleach will have to wait.

Day 8: Desert and water

2008-07-09T16:17:00.000-07:00

Today I was part of the Sweep team, meaning that I pull up the rear and make sure that everybody makes it to camp. This made for a long day in a lot of heat. The temperature was between 95 and 100, unless you were in the shade. Then it registered in the upper 80's.

The ride was unique. We said that we would stop at a coffee shop and let the slower riders get ahead. There was not a single coffee shop, gas station, or restaurant between Kennewick and Pendleton. There was a major highway junction, but no place to stop-a small town, but all they had was a large grain silo.

The views were extraordinary, starting with the lake where the Columbia and Walla Walla Rivers converge. Water, water, everywhere, but not a tree in sight, OR A RESTAURANT!
Needless to say, my riding companion and I were frustrated but we pressed on.

It was surprising how quickly the land changed from desert to wheat fields. One highlight was watching three deer bound through the grain fields.

At one point in the ride I started wondering how accidents between bikers happen. It didn't seem possible for me. Then I had problems with a shift, looked down at my gears, and moved to the right at the precise moment my riding partner was passing on the right. It was close enough for me to yell, breathe a sigh of relief that we didn't collide, and renew my commitment to caution. Accidents can happen just like that. I'm grateful we haven't had any serious accidents on the ride.

One of the surprises is that my partner and I were pictured on the front page of the Eastern Oregonian newspaper. There's my partner looking fresh and demonstrating good riding posture as we labor up a hill. And there's me, visibly struggling to keep moving in a forward direction.

The ride ended with a ridiculously hard uphill ride to the school, "Sun Ridge High School."

Days 6&7: Joy and Loneliness

2008-07-09T15:21:00.000-07:00

Days 6 and 7: Sunnyside to Kennewick

Another joyous ride! The wind was at our backs, the scenery was beautiful, the roads were smooth, the traffic was light, the conversation pleasant, and our destination idyllic. Also, my bike and body are performing admirably. What more could you ask for?

Cindy.

It is lonely having this great adventure without her. She felt the emptiness before I left; I’m feeling it now. After sharing the joys and struggles of the last 27 years with her, she has become part of the way I rejoice and struggle. In a peculiar way, that only my body understands, the struggles of the last 27 years are part of this journey. She should be here; I feel a bit lost.

Kennewick has been spectacular. We’re staying at a park along the Columbia River. The one thing it doesn’t have-showers-were supplied by a local health club.

This morning we held our second rally, sponsored by the churches of the area. A group of refugees from Myanmar sang in their native language during the offertory. Very inspiring, though I didn’t understand a word of their song.

It is finally my time to serve on the Sweep Team. We’re divided up into about15 groups. Each day one of these groups helps with dinner preparation and clean-up, breakfast the next morning, site clean-up after everybody leaves, and then pulls up the rear of ride to make sure all the riders make the next destination.

Time to go; my dinner time duties beckon.

Day 5: Singing in the Rain

2008-07-09T15:04:00.000-07:00

Today we rode another 40 miles, from Yakima to Sunnyside. Pretty easy ride, so I thought I’d try something a bit more strenuous to test my strength. Pulling the red wagon through Sunnyside got lots of attention. J

The most difficult thing about this ride was avoiding “goatheads,” little thorns that wreak havoc on tires. Though the ride was our shortest yet, we had our highest number of flats, 22. Fortunately, I navigated the trip with tires intact, but they tell me it is just a matter of time before I get my first.

We also experienced our first ride in the rain. A bit of a surprise since we’re in the desert part of Washington. We took down our tents in the rain, and rode in rain for the first 25 miles, not a hard rain, but enough to require rain gear.

The rain, along with the shorter day, meant lots of down time to clean our bicycles. I’m learning a lot about bicycle maintenance from some of the gurus on the tour. They tell me to clean my chain after every ride in the rain. I thought I was doing well when I cleaned the chain on my old Fuji once/year. I must admit, it gives me a good feeling to make my chain and sprockets shine.

Day 4: A Change of Scenery

2008-07-03T23:29:00.000-07:00

Today was an easy ride, which was good, because last night was pretty lousy. I woke up around 3 am to the sound of rushing wind and faint thunder. Normally this would not be a concern; I have a good tent. But the clear skies at bedtime had given me a false sense of security, and I had decided not to hassle with the rain fly. This meant that I had no protection from rain.

When I heard the thunder, I went outside, looked up at the sky, and saw......stars. Lots of stars. I used my meteorological expertise to conclude that it was heat lighting and went back to bed. The unmistakable sensation of rain on my face launched me into action. I rushed outside in heavy wind and rain and threw the fly on the tent. Then ran across the schoolyard to protect my beloved Brooks Saddle. When I was finally ready for the storm, the rain stopped. I slept fitfully the rest of the evening.

In view of my lack of sleep, and the previous days' exertions, I did not object to an easy ride. It was surprisingly beautiful. Most of the ride was along the Yakima River, which slices through the world's largest lava flow, covering 200,000 square miles of Washington, Oregon, and Idaho. In places the lava is 2 miles thick! "O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth."

Halfway through today's ride, I discovered that a client's dire warning about rattlesnakes on the road was not entirely without substance. This poor creature was long dead, but at one time it was alive, and on the road. Hmm, maybe I should think twice about that rattlesnake poison kit the client recommended.

Challenging, fascinating, inspiring, humbling, edifying, encouraging, relaxing...so far those are the words that best describe this ride. Thank you Jesus.

Pushing the Limit

2008-07-02T21:56:00.000-07:00

Day 2 - July 1, 2008

Before leaving, I said that I wanted something to test my limits. Foolish desire. The ride to Steven’s Pass was a mixture of beauty and pain. The Cascades were amazing. I’m standing in front of Deception Falls. I don’t know the reason for that name, but I do know that for this part of the ride I was deceived.

We were climbing but the climb was very manageable, almost gentle. The map says that we gain 4000 feet in 40 miles. You have to look closely to see that 3000 feet of that gain was in the last 6 miles.

We had talked to a Forest Ranger during one of our breaks; when she learned we were going up Steven’s Pass, she just shook her head. Seemed like an overreaction to me.

It wasn’t. The pitch of the road was 6 degrees, sometimes 7. The difficulty came from the fact that this pitch never changed. No flat spots, no little downhills before the next climb, just constant climbing. We crawled up this mountain, and actually, crawling might have been faster. Our speed was 4-5 mph. Usually we take breaks every 45 minutes to an hour; on this climb we took breaks every mile. Doubt crept into my mind, “You might not make it.” I thought often about the dutch word a fellow church member gave to me before the trip, “Trochsette”- determination. I tried not to look too far ahead and refused to look at the odometer to see how far I had to go. Just one pedal stroke at a time.

When I reached the top I got choked up. Don’t know why-maybe it was the emotion of coming through an ordeal. Maybe it was the emotion of doing something really hard in the shadow of multiple sclerosis. MS is often far from my mind, but much closer to my feelings.

The ride down was as spectacular as the ride up was difficult. For many miles we rode next to the Wenatchee River-at times calm and placid-a nice canoeing river-and then a wild, turbulent beast that I would not dare to raft down. It was hard to keep my eyes on the road.

At supper I ate like a horse. “Jim, how can you still be hungry?” I wondered. I was. After supper at 6, I ate a granola bar for a bedtime snack at 9. Went to sleep at 9:30.

Surprise!

2008-07-02T19:52:00.000-07:00

Day 3 - July 2, 2008

I got up at 5:30; once again ate like horse. And this time it was Oatmeal, which draws the parallel closer. Packed up and hit the road.

The ride was challenging without being overly draining. We climbed 3,000 feet but at a pitch that was manageable. Occasionally we reached the 6-7 degree pitch of the day before and I had to struggle with my biker’s version of PTSD. But soon the incline would again moderate.

After clearing the pass I enjoyed a 13 mile downhill and delighted in the speed of riding 42 mph.

When I reached the bottom the road split; I turned into the parking lot where a couple of Sea to Sea vehicles were waiting. No sooner did I enter the lot than a familiar face approached-Michael! He had driven out from Seattle to a nearby cabin owned by his host family-Jack and Mary Ann Byeman. They gave me cold water, two giant Payday candy bars, and some world class beef jerky. Elements of grace. Take, eat, remember and believe that people care about me and what I am doing. Thanks for caring and praying.

We arrived in Ellensburg fairly early. Temperature approaching 100 degrees. As I write I’m sitting in the air conditioned hallway of the school at which we’re camping. The ride tomorrow looks a bit easier, which is a good way to get used to the heat.

2008-07-02T19:29:00.001-07:00

The Beginning!

2008-06-30T20:28:00.000-07:00

Jim had a very good first day, PTL!! I received a phone call from him as they were about to eat supper. It was wonderful to hear that all had gone smoothly. The only thing he forgot was his pillow, but a very minor item in the grand scheme of things.

Michael and brother Pete were able to see him off this morning. I'm eager for some photos!!

Today the cyclists were divided into teams. Unfortunately, one woman hit a post and needs to sit out for a couple of days. But thankful she will be able to continue on the journey soon. So continued prayers for safety for each cyclist.

Tuesday they will set out on their own and be able to go at their own pace. It will be a strenuous ride!! Pray for endurance as they climb!

The internet was unavailable to the cyclists today so Cindy is posting for now.

We covet your prayers for safety and joy!!

Sharing the Joy

2008-06-29T22:20:00.000-07:00

The ride starts tomorrow morning! I am ready. I've ridden almost 2000 miles since January. My bike is ready. I had to take it apart to fly it out here and then put it back together. I rode it today and it seems like everything is working right.

Today was a wonderful day. Michael preached his first sermon. He is interning at Bellevue CRC as part of the Jubilee Program at Calvin. I suppose the proper term is "exhorted", but it sure sounded like preaching to me. Three points, video introduction, and strong conclusion. I was in heaven. He preached on Hebrews 12, "Running the race".

The applications to my bike ride were obvious and inspiring, "let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us." It's hot in Seattle-yesterday set a record and today was even hotter. The forecast for the next couple of days in continued heat. The climbs will also be stiff. I hope my body responds well to the heat and the climbing. Nothing like a big challenge right away. A fellow member at Eastern Avenue has been whispering the dutch word for determination in my ear for the last six months, "Trochsette".

To God be the glory!

2008-06-23T14:44:00.001-07:00