I frequent other forums and posted something about my C&O towpath tour and subsequently about my upcoming 24 Hours of Booty ride on a music board. Another participant on that board, an avid cyclist (waylaid for a few years due to injury but able to start cycling again in the spring), posted the following, and I post it here for your reading pleasure and inspiration.
I remember I once organized a fund raising bike ride for a high school student who, tragically, became a quadraplegic following an automobile accident. The family needed a special van and to do things like build a ramp for wheel chair access to their home.
So, I organized two events to help out: the bike ride and a basketball game.
Anyway, this one kid, who was totally out of shape, kept on begging and begging to participate. I wasn't sure as the other riders were pretty much all dreaming of going pro some day. Then, his parents called me asking that I not allow him to come. They explained that his brother had died when the two were riding bikes on a nearby rural road a couple of years back. Well, Daryl still kept begging every day and, the day before, his parents finally gave in. Since the accident with his brother, his bike had lain in the back yard getting rusty. He spray painted it red the night before our 100 K ride.
I drove him to the meeting spot the next day, bikes loaded into the back of my wife's SUV type vehicle. Well, the other kids were arrogant as hell. They were mocking Daryl behind his back (they didn't know the story of his brother) and took off at a speed of 22-25 miles an hour, leaving him in the dust. I went with them, but, after about 10-12 miles, we pulled over at a bridge to wait...really never expecting him to make it. We were about to leave thinking he had quit, when a spot appeared on the distance riding a red bike. Here came Daryl huffing and puffing. All of a sudden, the other kids were practically chanting encouragement. I was worried that the chain was going to fall off Daryl's bike given its condition and his brakes hardly had any impact on his stopping. His face was beet red by this point. I asked if he wanted to continue and offered to stay behind with him while the others finished. He said he was doing this for Lisa, the injured girl, and his brother. He said he was going to go all the way.
Well, the same scenario played out over and over that day. The pack would stop, wait, and cheer Daryl on, but he kept coming, red faced, drenched with sweat, and having taken a spill on one of the curves.
Slowly, the other cyclists dropped out for one reason or another. MOSTLY, it was from not paced themselves enough in the beginning for a longer ride than they were used to. Finally, it was JUST Daryl and me. The last few miles are one long uphill grind to Folsom Dam in the Sacramento area. Now, I was worried, but could see how much this meant to Daryl, so we continued on until the end. On the way down, we walked due to his brake problems. But, the rest of the way, Daryl was gleaming. He had done it for Lisa...and mostly as a tribute to his brother. We rode at Daryl's pace, but his energy never waned.
Can't say either of us smelled too good on the way back, but I knew Daryl had become my hero that day, as well the hero of the kids who initially mocked him. He taught us all a lesson in determination.
I don't even know why I'm rambling on, but it's just a special memory that was triggered by my thinking of pacing for your upcoming ride and my illustration about the importance of going your own pace.
I was about to delete this, but decided it would be my special tribute to the great Daryl.
I'm so glad he didn't delete it, and that he gave me permission to repost it here. If ever someone was following Churchill's dictate ("Never never never give up"), this kid was.
