It’s over. I have surprisingly finished a 4,000 mile bike ride across my country I so proudly am a part of in the name of my fraternity and people with disabilities. But even as my fingers methodically tap out these words, I feel as though its not over.
Every morning I wake up, I feel like I must furiously pack up my belongings, carefully check my tire pressure and run to be the first one in the half-a-bagel-and-cereal line I am so used to. But no. My bike is in a box making its way through Tennessee to find me and my breakfast is tucked away neatly in a pantry and refrigerator waiting for me to make my selection of fruits, eggs, and whole bagels. Its a strange feeling.
The men to whom I have grown so close with are in their respective towns or meandering about their respective lives, from what I understand, floating along in a similar manner as my own. These men have been with me for the last 67 days straight, pushing their bodies, minds, and empathy beyond the brink of human capacity, and now they are gone. Its lonely here.
There’s a sense of eagerness though, to see what they will do and push for in their own chapters back home. Each man had his own idea of what he was going to take back, whether is was expressed directly or in a few words of what about the trip he was going to miss. We are all going to try and take this trip back to our chapter. Partly out of selfishness so that we may claw our way back up to the euphoria at the mountain’s peak while we all know honestly that we are taking a long walk down its gentle sloping, unexplored face. But we will also take it back so that we can share with out chapters what we have experienced: and what we have experienced has made us men.
There are few words I can find to explain what transformation I have made over these last two months but as usual, I will try.
My heart feels ten times as big as when I started. Now that I am home I find myself ignoring the little things that would normally build up into an undesired character. I smile at absolutely nothing and realize there is everything to be happy for when you can block out the negative in life. There is a huge difference in this “campy high” I am leaving the Journey of Hope with than what I have left with from large group events in the past and it can largely be seen in the mere fact that I am writing this entry here and now. I don’t want to be writing this. I just rode approximately 80 miles a day for the last 67 days after waking up at 5:00 am then participated in programming until 8:00 pm at night. In my head there is nothing more I would like to do than to walk downstairs, sit on the couch, and fall asleep watching TV…for this entire week. But in my heart I want to do. I want to be. I want to create. Not create artistically or with words but create opportunities. Create the opportunity for you to read this. Create the opportunity for me to have an organized year at school. Create the opportunity for my chapter brothers and my community back at Texas A&M to experience the lives of people with disabilities. My ability to push myself to do what I know I must has been the largest affect of this trip. Every person I saw at our friendship visits was pushing themselves every second of every day because they had to. They didn’t have a choice. But look at what they are capable of; the amazing things they do. On top of that, their faces radiate joy and their words reassure your heart. I want to live like that: to the fullest of my abilities and often times that requires you to push yourself through the thing that you don’t want to do.
I find myself realizing how much I don’t deserve and how blessed my life is. Sadly, in the past, I felt a sort of benign, subconscious entitlement. Like everything that I have accomplished in the past had allowed me to champion some global thanks from everyone I met or at least for them to acknowledge my abilities. Now I can see what I used to feel and realize that I deserve nothing and should burst to God and the world my thanks for everything I have. There are so many other people in this world that have accomplished so much more with so much less, or if nothing else, simply have so much less and do with it what they can. Every day I need to work harder than I think I can to better my friends and family and the world as a whole. Only then will I be able to live out my thanks to God and anyone who has had an affect on me. My new found humility is the second thing I owe to the Journey of Hope.
I would like to thank the 32 other men that have become some of the best friends I have ever known, that have made me a better man. As Jon Cook, a member of my team, said frequently, I am forever indebted to you guys. I would also like to thank ever person that sponsored me. Not only did you fund an extremely far reaching and important cause giving hope and light to millions of peoples with disabilities, but you also had a direct hand in shaping me into the man I hoped one day I would become.
I could write for days, but I hope this gives you an idea of what I have experienced the last two months. I can’t wait to start this school year and the rest of my life and spread what I have learned on this trip.
God bless my Fraternity.
Please take a second to watch my new Video of the Week. It is Ricky and Todd, two of our cyclists preforming one of our kids on the block puppet shows. Its around 12 minutes long, but I promise it is worth it. You will really get a feel for this part of our Journey, and I can guarantee you will laugh.
Again, sorry for taking so long to update but I will write about today and then try and go back and fill y’all in on the past week or so.
After what could easily be called one of the most miserable rides so far (treacherous roads, a constant stream of semis, and waves of climbing and racing downhill of which we have not seen in so long) we arrived in Atlanta to the Emory Autism Center drained and all but defeated (maybe defeated). I am surprised I haven’t learned by now that a intolerable day on the bike can easily be turned upside down by one of our friendship visits; as was yet again the case from the instant we made our arrival. We were greeted by 30 young children, many of which without Down’s Syndrome, and those with were easily spotted- they are always so much more excited to see us…I cherish their unconditional love. We split into groups of 4 or 5 and made our way into their class rooms. The purpose of this center is to allow children to come play, learn and interact while being conditioned to the fact that there are some people that may look or act just a little bit different, but on the inside are just like they are. After an hour or so of pure interactive fun- including, might I say, a shaving cream/color learning activity that unloaded about 3 cans of shaving cream all around the room- we left with much higher spirits.
Today we awoke to a jam packed schedule; less a day off and more a day without riding…not that I am complaining. We first made our way to The Holy Comforter, a mission of the Episcopal Diocese of Atlanta to have breakfast with their participants. The mission was once a church without even the ability to pay their light bill. But after a priest made his was around Atlanta and met many of its homeless and impoverished citizens, it was decided Atlanta needed the Holy Comforter and was then named a mission, receiving funds from wealthier churches and organizations supporting people with disabilities. As they so graciously explained to us, these people just need community and often times because of their disabilities, they are denied that very human right for social interaction and community worth. We made our way back to Emory University and had a few hours to relax by the pool (from which I am now very, very red).
Around 6pm, after a voyage through Atlanta rush hour, we arrived in Cumming, GA for a night of bowling with the local Miracle League; their bowling team called the Angels in the Alley. Now, being very accustomed to wearing exactly the same thing everyday, the entire team (myself included) committed the cardinal mistake in bowling: we forgot to bring socks. Luckily, there was a goodwill across the street at which made commenced our first apparel shopping spree. I have never been so glad to have forgotten socks. Why you ask? Because had I not walked into goodwill, I would have never found THESE:
The coolest socks I have ever worn. Regulation bowling socks? No. Awesome and make me look slightly like a blue version of the Grinch? I think so.
Once we all were properly geared up, Tom (a fellow cyclist) and I started a game with three men and one younger boy. The three men were in wheelchairs and the young boy had a walker, as it appeared he had Cerebral Palsy. All were great to talk with after the initial difficulty of interpretation, it took Tom and myself a little while to get the hang of understanding what each guy was trying to say. In the midst of our first game, I was approached by a woman whom had brought her son along for the evening. She began telling us the story of her son Jason. Jason is first and foremost, as I would learn, my fellow brother in Pi Kappa Phi. In 1999, during his junior year at the University of Georgia, Jason was out with a few fellow chapter brothers and was hit by a car driving 50mph which then preceded to drive away. Whilst he lie in the hospital, the doctors said he would not function or walk ever again and/or otherwise live for much longer. Today, at 32 years old, Jason is still alive and well. While he can’t speak or fully control his arms or legs he, as his mother says, has no paralysis and still knows his square roots. His mother could not stop commending us for what we are doing. “Its amazing to help fund raise and with your son be an advocate for an organization such as Push America, and even more amazing to now be a part of the community it supports.” Jason and his mother were amazing, I am proud to have him as my brother.
We are 11 days until the end. Another Pi Kapp that helped organize our event tonight mentioned it in his goodbye speech to us all. It is beginning to sink in that its almost over…
So in my haste of leaving the University of Western Alabama, I left my computer charger… so I have just got ahold of a new one. Give me a few days and I should get everything updated. Thanks for everyone’s patience and check back frequently.
Speaking of Technology, make sure you take a look at my Videos section. I added a new feature to my site that makes it really easy to watch all my videos.
Today we rode into Shreveport, LA to the Shriner’s Hospital. We have already met the Masons and Shriners before but walking into their largest philanthropic contribution to society was stunning. The moment we stepped in the hospital, it was easy for us to tell why so many children feel at ease when taking on the sometimes monumental challenges while surrounded by those walls.
While inside, myself and two of my teammates met two girls named Roxanne and Gabrielle; Roxanne was from Honduras and Gabrielle from Ecuador. Roxanne, with whom I spoke the most, is yet another match to the fire of what we do. She just graduated high school and has been in the US for 3 months after having surgery to try and correct an incorrect rotation of her left leg due to Cerebral Palsy. We spoke about how when she was diagnosed at a young age her doctors told her mother not to expect anything from her for the rest of her life. “They told my mother, ‘She won’t be able to walk and she won’t be able to learn, we would also tell you to not try to teach her to speak. Don’t expect anything from her.’” Today, Roxanne speaks both Spanish and English perfectly, though her English includes quite a few more giggles and she has just applied to Lousiana Tech for next fall to pursue a degree in medicine. On top of the inspiration she gave directly to me, the guys and I enjoyed breaking her usual serious demeanor. For ten minutes straight we made her laugh until she was crying, putting a time out on our conversation, but a few gratefully sore cheeks on everyone around. Roxanne, I don’t believe that you don’t usually laugh like that.
Shreveport was inspiring…but on to Monroe!
Today we arrived in Dallas to find that God graced us with some amazing cloud cover. The cool wind was something we hadn’t felt for the 5 weeks we had been on this Journey. Then they let open the rain…another first for our trip and of course, it rains out our ride into my home town. However, I didn’t let it bring me down as I knew that I would have friends and family waiting for me at our arrival.
After a proclamation from the Mayor of Arlington and the Mayor of Dallas we were greeted by lines of smiling faces and clapping hands from the participants of the Bachman Recreational Center, a facility that strongly encourages an active role for people with disabilities. We made our way inside and preformed another one of our Kid’s on the Block puppet shows to a particularly talkative crowd.
Our evening was the highlight of our day off activities with a 3 hour spat with Top Golf- its like an extremely high tech driving range with targets and a point system. If there is anyone in Dallas reading this that has yet to play; go now! Drop whatever you are doing: work, chores, or helping your brother/sister/son/daughter with homework and go now. It will be the greatest night you have had in a while, guaranteed.
The next morning we all prepared for our pool party at the Rise School at a local church; a school that specializes in caring for kids with disabilities. We all arrived with in our swim suits and towels and strolled out into the courtyard expecting full well a glistening light blue oasis to cool off our legs. No, we didn’t find a swampland of a Louisiana Bayou (no, this is something we will surely find in a few days). we found approximately 6 kiddy pools dispersed among the outdoor area. I wish you all could have seen our faces. Not quite disappointment but more like the face most people have when I tell them that we DO actually get snow about once a year in Texas-complete astonishment. But we did not expect what happened next. Children began pouring out of the double doors like open floodgates and jumping into the pools. Most of these children had some disability whether it be down’s syndrome (which was most of the case) or some sort of physical disability. I began to draw the attention of a young girl, about 5 or 6, by the name of Kacey. Her first word’s to me were, “Bounce me! Bounce me!” And with her arms in the air I lifted her to what seemed to her the heights of the planes in the sky. This quickly turned into “1…2…3…FOUR times!!”- the number of times she wanted me to spin her in the air. Soon enough her friend, about 4 years old, joined in on the fun and before I knew it, I had one of them on each hip, spinning myself dizzy. The pure happiness that these girls had inside of them was contageous. It is times like this that we are shown true and pure love…from girls only 4 and 5 years old. Reluctant to leave, we set off for our evening’s events: Whirly Ball.
The game Whirly Ball is a little like lacross in bumper cars, except a lot less athletic and, save a few full on body throws with said cars, quite a bit safer. A Pi Alpha (men that have finished the Journey of Hope in previous years) and another Pi Kappa Phi brother sponsored the event and truly concluded our Dallas trip with a fun filled bang.
While this trip has taught me many things (humility, hope, a honest care for those I don’t even know, among numerous lessons about my own internal strength) I had no idea I would discover the depths at which what I am about to say resonates within me:
I am more proud now than ever to be a Texan.
Now I would really like to avoid the tradtional Texas stereotype of the loud mouth, “Everything’s bigger,” nose up Texan. But to be honest I can’t stop thinking to myself, “There is no place better.” We have been treated phenominally by every state but let me say, I haven’t felt like a king until now. And while the other “Texas Foreigners” within my team may like to bite their tongue of honest feelings, I think I speak for each and every one of them when I say that Texas has been the best place on our trip.
I’ll sum it up quickly. Our first day in Texas was Muleshoe, Texas; a quaint town of about 4,000 and proud holders of a newly attained state championship in football. But more pertainant is one word…steak! Yes, that is right, in the first 12 hours of being within Texas borders we were eating a steak dinner. Day three, Snyder, Texas. Creamy Chicken and Rice with mushrooms, cauliflower, creamy potatoes, SWEET TEA, and homemade lemon sorbet with lemon sandtarts. It took us a good 15 minutes to even touch the food because we all stared in disbeleif at the plate looming in front of us surrounded by table decorations and the hands of our own graceious personal servers. And finally day four- today -Abiline, Texas at Perini Ranch Steak House for fried catfish, steamed ears of sweet and spicy corn, hushpuppies and the best bread pudding I have had to date. One of the best parts of tonight’s dinner was the fact that for many of our “Yankee” riders, it was their first time to experience fried catfish or hushpuppies. I think they teared up at its culinary beauty after our meal had concluded.
The food has been a Godsend but the people are what make me the proudest. Every single person we have met so far has been a defining example of southern hospitality. I can’t help but smile from ear to ear when I get to speak with my amazing fellow Texans. Every member of the community seems to be invloved in their local support groups for people with disabilities. To see their communities truely rally around our cause as it affects their homes has brought this trip to another point of pure unity within our team and our country….oh, and state!
Again I say, God Bless Texas.
Thank God for Texas!
Today our ride was actually phenomenal. A straight shot with the occasional slight downhill and a great tailwind the entire ride. We were in a full out sprint at around 30 mph for 40 miles which, on a bike, feels akin to driving 100 mph down the interstate. Speaking of the interstate; we had to cut our ride short because of I-40. I know, the itinerary says 85 miles but that is without consideration for the sleepless truck drivers and apparent rally cars making I-40 there own personal racetrack. So after 40 miles we racked up onto the vans and drove into Albuquerque to our first friendship visit for the day; one that will leave a lasting impression.
We arrived at the Casa Angelica, a residential facility for those with severe mental retardation. It is supported by the Connassian Sisters of Charity (really great, supportive women) and run by an amazing staff of administrators and nurses. Now, the following is the part of this visit I will never forget. To date, this is the most profound person I have met on this trip; the full embodiment of what Pi Kappa Phi and Push America are Journeying across the country for: people’s abilities, even with a given disability.
Upon arrival we were greeted by a woman by the name of Katy. She told us a little about the Casa Angelica and what they do for their clients. She went on to explain that at the moment, for our arrival, she was simply the “contact” and that a woman by the name of Tonya had actually arranged the whole thing and that she was on her way. After Katy disappeared to coordinate amongst the facility for a few more minutes, she emerged behind a woman in a motorized wheelchair. With a proud trumpeting of a statement, we were told, “Guys, meet Tonya.” There was a certain cognizance emanating from Tonya which, sadly, could be overlooked due to her lack of motor control. Pulling up gracefully between two of our chairs, a computerized voice announced, “I am happy to meet you all.” We all were instantly taken aback and, even as advocates for people with disabilities, surprised. She followed our expressions with a story about her condition. Tonya has severe Cerebral Palsy which has confined her to a motorized wheelchair and the rendered the muscles in her arms and mouth uncontrollable. However, after years of communicating through a picture board, she was granted the computer attached to her chair which allowed for the flawless expression of her every thought. With this, she arranged and coordinated the entire arrival with our national office and Project Manager through email. She further explained how she volunteers at the Casa Angelica every Tuesday, training and advising staff, how she has been involved in the local art center for many years where she paints and acts, and if I may say so myself, she has an incredible gift with writing: to which I repeatedly encouraged her to write a book. She laughed.
Alright, you see the picture above? That, is the altitude map for the entire ride we did today. While you can’t see the altitude map for my infamous Kirkwood ride, I’ll compare. When you put the two together, Kirkwood looks slightly like a capital gains chart for the current economy; pretty much downhill and anything that looks positive isn’t really much to speak of.
Another way of putting it, you ask? Kirkwood we climbed one mountain; today we climbed 3. None of us were ready for today. Mentally, nutritionally, philosophically… And yet we all pushed again for our cause. Personally I can’t can count 5 times I was ready to put my bike on the van, but everyone pushed each other to go as far as they could.
Another accomplishment today; we got one of our guys, Joey, into his drop handlebars and flying down a hill. I think we created a speed demon because, for once, most of us couldn’t keep up with him.
