Category: Uncategorized

August 19.

Only 53 miles from Marathon to Key West.  Because of the shorter distance we didn’t start riding right at dawn.  It was a little after 8 before we left.  Just five miles into the route, we all met up at the beginning of the Seven Mile Bridge.  We have a drone that can take video, but it can only travel at twelve miles an hour–so we started out slow.  Rain was predicted, but we didn’t encounter much of it.  One of our photographers, though, was assigned to take photos as we came off the seven mile bridge and it was raining really hard on her end.  She didn’t know if she would be able to get any photos.

The Seven Mile Bridge goes from east to west and Marathon is at the east end.  Since it was raining on the west end, and sunny on the east end, we got to ride right into a rainbow arch as we rode over the bridge.  Ocean on both sides and a rainbow arching over the bridge!  What an amazing sight!  My photos only show a little portion of the rainbow.  When I am truly enjoying what I am doing, I rarely want to take the time to stop and take a photo.  I love having the photos afterwards, but that isn’t my highest priority.  Sometimes, when I see people watching, say, a dance recital, on the small screen of a video recorder, I feel kind of sorry for what they are missing.  So, that’s the reason you just have to take my word for it, that the rainbow went all the way across for part of our journey.

Our first rest stop was at the Key West Visitor Center, about 20 miles in.  It wasn’t open yet.  I caught up with the entire crew of cyclists–everyone was being pretty leisurely in their riding on our last day.  When the sweeps came in, they had picked up another rider, a man from France who was riding down to Key West from Miami.  He shared some of our water and our snacks, but seemed a bit overwhelmed on how to take the welcome he received.  I have forgotten his name.

Our second rest stop was at Baby’s Coffee, 36 miles from the start of the day.  We stopped in and got coffee, mostly iced coffee or blended coffee drinks of some sort.  There was a drummer in the parking lot who was on his way to Key West, also.  He sometimes performs at one of the outdoor venues–the most popular one is probably Mallory Square where people gather to watch the sunset.  I watched some video from the New York Times on the hurricane damage to the Keys (Hurricane Irma), and saw the distinctive logo from Baby’s Coffee.  The owner was talking about what she was doing to help people during the first days of the recovery.

The route on this day was very easy to follow–Highway 1 all the way until reaching the city of Key West.  There were places where we switched from highway shoulder to bike path, but many of those involved crossing a busy road and seemed kind of ridiculous.  Often the road crossings and the quality of the bike path seemed more dangerous than just riding on the shoulder of the highway, also designated as a bike lane.

We took turns taking each others’ pictures at the Key West sign, and then headed to the meet up point.  We were meeting up very near the official tourist “southernmost point” of Key West.  Then we rode out onto a pier that is farther south than the southernmost point.  (Even the southernmost point is not really that.  It’s the southernmost point where the public can freely go, because there is a military base further south.)  The chickens below were at the gathering place.  There are a lot of feral chickens in Key West from the days when cock fighting was popular.  When cock fighting was outlawed, a lot of people, apparently, just let their chickens go free.  Because of that fact, we asked Alexa (the Amazon version of Siri) to play a song about chickens.  She picked “Chicken Attack” by the Gregory Brothers.  It’s hilarious!

Early arrivals play in the water, near the pier where we will officially end the ride

We gathered up and headed out onto the pier for our final circle up.  I could hardly believe the journey that I had been through during the previous eleven weeks.  At the beginning of the pier is a memorial for those who died of AIDs on the island (not sure what years are covered).  The memorial is titled “A Celebration of Life.”  Embedded in the concrete memorial is a map of the Florida Keys.  “A Celebration of Life” is what I have participated in during this summer–not just my life, but all of life.

 

The pier was largely empty, just a few people fishing, so we were able to ride our bikes around freely.  After a lap or two, we got off.  As soon as I dismounted, I was overwhelmed with emotion and started crying.  A bicycle journey of over 4000 miles–I didn’t ride every single mile, but I can still say that I rode my bicycle across the United States of America.  I lived out of a suitcase and slept on church floors for eleven weeks, and I would like to do it again!  It’s been a dream since I was in my 20s, to cycle across the US “someday.”  Someday finally came!

I worked hard for a full year to get in better shape, able to go the minimum recommended speed and distance.  On June 3, I dipped my back tire in the Pacific Ocean in San Francisco, on August 6 I dipped my front tire in the Atlantic on Tybee Island, and then I rode down the Georgia and Florida coast line all the way to where the road ends on Key West! Along the way, I got to meet all kinds of people and see all kinds of interesting terrain.  I don’t know how God will use this experience in my future, or anyone’s future.  There is not as much that separates us throughout the US as some would have us believe.  Though we have disagreements, and those are real disagreements, we are not enemies to each other.  As individuals we need the courage to say out loud, I may disagree with you, but I believe that you, also, love this country and want the best for her and her people.  We need to recognize that often people in power give us false choices and make it appear that it is impossible and wrong and harmful to find any kind of way in between.  We are one nation.  I hope that soon we will be able to learn to live as one nation.  I know that it will take each one of us, working toward truly listening to those whose experiences are far different than our own.

In my travels this summer, I remember, especially, Diane Harris, one of the marchers present in Selma on Bloody Sunday.  They marched to call attention to the fact that, though blacks had the right to vote according to the law, they were not allowed to register to vote.  One pretext after another was used to keep US citizens from registering and from voting.

I remember, especially, George, whom I met in Lawton, OK.  When I showed him the map on the back of my shirt to tell him our route, he said, “I can’t read.”  Another US citizen, George was born in Texas.  His family were migrant workers, following the harvest of whatever crop was in season.  He started working in the fields at about age six, I believe he said.  He was not poor and unable to read because he was lazy; he was poor and unable to read because that is the way we have allowed US citizens (and immigrants) to be treated.  He earned a penny for picking a bunch of radishes.  It took 100 bunches to earn $1, and 1000 bunches of radishes to earn $10.  George wasn’t complaining a bit.  In fact, at the church where we met and ate breakfast together, he told me that they “treat him like a king” there.  I cried, to know that here was a man born in the US who never even had the chance to go to school.

I remember, especially, the story of Craig, CO, a place which has abundant coal–reportedly enough to run the local power plants for the next fifty years.  When Donald Trump was elected, people started buying houses and investing in the local economy again.  They were afraid that preparing for the day when coal is not abundant, as has already occurred in other parts of the country, would put them out of jobs in the next few months or years.  Even so, Colorado gets more than 10% of its energy from wind farms.

There are more than two choices.  The best choice is often neither of the extremes we fight over.  I am glad to have had this chance to travel the country and to listen to my fellow citizens.

August 18.

It’s 85.9 miles from Homestead to Marathon, but just 16 miles in we crossed the bridge and got off the mainland headed toward Key Largo.  It was much more enjoyable than all the Miami traffic, that’s for sure.  The very first stretch, though, was a two lane highway on which at least some people seemed to think they were drag racing.  Still, it was far better than the Miami traffic.  And most of the traffic was going one-way, presumably because of the time of day (i.e. heading to work time or heading to the Keys for the weekend time).

The first rest stop was at Alabama Jack’s, near the bridge to Key Largo.  Alabama Jack’s wasn’t open when we were there, and I truly don’t know if it is ever open.  We’re about to enter the Florida Keys–over 100 miles of linked islands connected by bridges along Highway 1.

Key Largo is a pretty large island, so most of the time we traveled through forested land.  Many of the Keys are tiny–just a few miles before hitting another bridge.  The first thing that really caught my attention was the flowering trees.

I tried to count the bridges as we went.  I think we crossed about 15 bridges on our first day in the Keys, traveling to Marathon.  This photo is the first of the very long bridges we encountered.  It is also one of the few that had a completely separate lane for cyclists and pedestrians.  Most of the way was marked as a bike lane, but was basically the road shoulder.

I had never seen anything like this before–ocean on both sides of us as far as we could see.  The first person to imagine the idea was Henry Flagler who built a railroad between the islands.  There is a ton of stuff named after Henry Flagler in Florida, including some of the beaches we went past earlier in our time in Florida.

At Marathon, we stayed at the Church of God and showered at the aquarium.  I arrived at the aquarium near closing time but could see some of the outdoor exhibits without paying any extra.  The Church of God was a little different than most of the churches we stayed at.  We slept in the sanctuary.  The kitchen area was where we prepared food and kept our bicycles–only a handful of people could eat in the kitchen area.  And then there were two bathrooms.  Each area–sanctuary, kitchen, and bathrooms–had its own outside door and there was no way to get from one part of the building to the other without going outside.  A spider on the bathroom wall was enough to convince all of us to use flashlights when it was time to go outside at night.

 

August 17.

The trip from Ft. Lauderdale to Homestead was 78.9 miles of mostly city.  Some of the city biking was not to bad–about the first twenty miles or so.  We were traveling then on multi-lane roads with bike lanes.  But soon the bike lanes petered out and we were just a part of the city traffic.  There were several times when someone turning right would cut off the lead cyclist.  A couple of times I had to put the brakes on quickly to avoid a collision.  Other times a car came close enough that I could have knocked on the window without any trouble.  It was too close for my comfort.  The other bad part of this city cycling was that it was hard to go much further than a couple of blocks before stopping at another light.  Stopped at a stop light, the heat surrounds you with no escape.

I got to a round-about that had about six exits, and I knew that I had taken the wrong one.  I was stopping to reconnoiter and try to figure out which way to go when the sweeps, Larry and Scott, rode up.  I had not gone far enough around the round-about–it was the next exit.  By that point, I was fed up with the traffic, but I figured I could make it another five miles or so to the next rest stop.  It would be difficult for anyone to pick me up where I was.  With all three of us together we were easier to see though the traffic was still bad.

I got off my bike at the rest stop and said, “I’m done with this!”  Apparently I was quite adamant.  It became part of the story-telling for the group.  A couple of the people that I had been riding with throughout the week, but had taken the day off after their hundred mile day, laughed at my exclamation.  I got a ride to the next rest stop.  After that, we had been told, was more country roads.

So I got a ride to the next rest stop, at a marina.  The marina had warning signs on how to avoid manatees (sea cows).  In certain areas, the boats were not allowed to run their motors, or maybe just small motors, to avoid harming the manatees.  I never did get to see a manatee.

I think this was the day that Ky had an encounter with an iguana.  An iguana got caught up in the spokes of his front wheel.  From there, it managed to somehow get to his left leg, climb up, across his waist, and then jump off.  How he managed to keep riding through that encounter, I don’t know, but he did it.

I saw mostly little lizards by the road.  The longest was probably about a foot in length and very bright green.

After I got in the car at rest stop two, I was glad that I did.  There were even more narrow roads and lots of traffic.  We did get to a section that I wished I could ride, though.  There was a bike path and lots of pretty banyan trees on both sides of the road.  And then we learned about banyan trees by looking it up on Google!  They start when a seed lands in the crotch of a tree and starts growing.  As the plant grows, it sends its roots down to the ground.  Eventually, the host tree can be totally enveloped by the banyan (a type of fig) and then the host tree will die and rot.  That is why banyan trees have such interesting configurations.

Homestead was cool and the people there were very kind.  There is a place to go called the Coral Castle that I would like to see someday.  It was built by a man who was rejected in love.

I did not take any photos in all the traffic.

August 15.

This was a 100 mile day, mostly along the beach roads again.  Check out the places where we had our rest stops:

A lot of people went swimming when they got to the rest stops.  It helps to cool you down in the heat–that’s for sure.  It also gets you covered with salt water!

This was the day that I took a fall.  I pulled over into the shade, and I was pretty much stopped and just lost my balance.  I somehow landed with my gluteus maximus on top of my saddle–which gave me a very deep bruise.  I never looked at it until about five days later–that was one ugly bruise!  Right after I fell, a police officer pulled up to see if I was ok.  Which I was, though I knew that bruise was going to be a bad one.

I sat in the shade for a while and then rode on to the Ice Cream Club about three or four miles further on.  Seriously good ice cream there, and it was a good place to wait.  I thought that I had somehow damaged my bike in the fall, and called for a ride.  Turned out I had only bent the fender in where it was rubbing the tire!  Maybe I could have made it for the entire 99 miles, but I’m not totally sure I would have made it anyway.

In the evening we stayed at a huge United Methodist Church.  My main goal was to get my bicycle fixed so that I could ride the next day.  I was trying to adjust the brakes because I thought that was the problem (as did one or two others) but it was only the fender.  Our trip leader, Connor, found the problem right away and fixed it just as quickly.

 

I completed the trip to Key West on August 19 and several people asked me if I planned to document the rest of the trip.  I told them all ‘yes,’ but it sure has taken me a long time to get this far!  Since the trip ended, I spent a week with my daughter in Alexandria, VA and then came to Kansas to live with my mom while I look for work.  Looking for work, at least as a minister, is not progressing as well as I had hoped.  I am, though, truly enjoying the time I get to spend with my mom.   I am lucky to get the chance to do that, and lucky she is willing to have me!

The first day was from Orlando to Melbourne on August 14.  The GPS route we are sent each day tells us how many feet we ascend and how many we descend along our route.  We went up 384 ft and down 475 ft–basically flat, but back down to the sea. Most of the hills are usually overpasses when the numbers are that low.   The church we stayed in on Monday evening was called St. Sebastian by the Sea.  It was only about two blocks to the ocean.  Our total trip that day was 76 miles.

At St. Sebastian’s we learned that this is a prime spot for sea turtle nests and that we had arrived during the right season.  If you wanted to see a sea turtle, you needed to go down to the beach at night–no flashlights allowed, and just look around.  I was too tired to stay up, though I did consider it.  Two people from our group, though, did go out.  They saw a couple of mothers coming out of the ocean to lay their eggs, and they also saw some sea turtles hatching and making their way to the ocean.  The reason you can’t use flashlights is because the turtles use the light of the moon to guide them to the ocean.  Any other light throws them off and they can’t find their way.  Somewhere along the line, someone had enough foresight to regulate building along the beach so that even the houses there do not have lights that show up on the beach.

One of the people at the church has a daughter who works at a state park near there.  They knew of a couple of sea turtle nests that they were able to rope off and protect.  Another one, though, they didn’t find on time.  It was very near a campground restroom and the little newly hatched sea turtles were all over the lit restroom.  I think they managed to save some of them and herd them out to sea somehow.  You can’t pick them up and carry them to the sea–I think it is like trying to help a butterfly out of its chrysalis.

Tuesday of the final week we traveled very close to the beach for the first 40 to 45 miles and then turned inland toward Port St. Lucie.  As you can see, it was another beautiful day.

Just about every morning, I started out the day with a smile on my face and in my heart.  It is a wonderful thing to be on a bicycle trip–especially when we are able to get help if we need it.  I know it’s not for everyone, but it is one of the most fun things I can imagine doing.  If I were to do anything different, it would be to have a few extra hours in some of the places that looked interesting, but that I had to pass up to keep up with the group.  On days when we didn’t ride, I often had trouble sleeping–not enough exercise that day!

August 11, 12 & 13.

From Ormond Beach we turned back inland to head to Orlando.  In Orlando, we have the Central Florida Fuller Center and we will be working with them.  We stayed in the First United Methodist Church in Orlando.  On the way there, we rode a long stretch of highway called Tomahoka Farms road and I saw signs saying “keep Tomahoka rural”.  But after crossing the country and seeing so much of rural America emptied of businesses, I wonder about this dream and ideal.  I have spent much of my life in rural areas; rural America instills a strength, devotion to family, and commitment to neighbor that is hard to beat.  But agricultural jobs are fewer and fewer, and there aren’t a lot of other local job opportunities in those rural areas to choose from.  It’s appalling to visit a town and see one business open along a street full of shuttered businesses.

In Craig, CO we learned, from a local real estate agent, that her business really picked up after Donald Trump was elected as president because they are in an area which still has abundant coal resources—enough to supply the local coal-fired power plants for another fifty years.  The local plants have just been upgraded with emission controls to meet EPA standards.  Coal may still be viable there, but employment in the coal industry nationwide has declined for decades.  The perception that Trump was pro-coal and Clinton was anti-coal was the deciding factor for them.  Most solutions to problems will have to be local, but we also need to learn compassion for people whose situations are different from our own.  It is too easy, in our modern age, to almost totally insulate ourselves from people whose lives are different from our own.

In Savannah, we happened to be at church when the church was saying goodbye to a family that was going to travel through the US in an RV for the year.  He had a job in which he could work from home, and she is a teacher who is going to home-school their three girls.  Since I have felt called by God to go on this bike ride, it truly made me wonder what God is up to.  This couple wanted to show their girls the beauty of the natural world, and also meet people around the country.

Back to Florida—this was the one day when I had problems with sore knees.  It surprised me.  I’ve been through the mountains without any knee problems!  But my knees were bothering me enough that it was totally throwing me off my game, so I did not ride the entire distance to Orlando.

In Orlando, we were able to have dinner with the local Fuller Center board and people from the First United Methodist Church.  The next day was a work day, painting a house that belonged to Helen.  Helen was an interesting person—full of joy!  She was a widow, and in a wheelchair.  When she got the wheel chair, her house wasn’t accessible but she lived there anyway.  She was active in her church and she helped her neighbors, even taking in a couple of extra residents into her house.  Her bathroom was inaccessible to her, so she used a bedside commode and then, to bathe, she rigged up an outdoor shower area for herself.  She would put the hose in the sun to warm up the water and bathe behind a tarp in the carport.  One tough lady!  So the Fuller Center of Central Florida made her bathroom accessible and made a couple of wheel chair ramps so she could use both doors of her home.  We were merely painting the outside.  Her church came out and fed us lunch.

Sunday was a day off.  Quite a few went to one of the Disney parks, but I decided to visit my nephew, Kris.  We had a great time and it was also relaxing—much more relaxing than spending the day at Disney World.

Across the street from the Methodist church was a statue of Homeless Jesus which I found moving.

August 10.

This has to be one of the prettiest rides ever–most of the day the ocean was just behind either the dunes or the mansions along the road, and every once in a while we would catch a glimpse of it.  And then–there it would be–in clear view for long stretches at a time.  We were on Florida A1A.  It was an 81 mile day and I think I made it all the way to the destination by bicycle, but I may not have.  There was one day in here when I got over-heated and had to stop early and it may have been this day.  Still, it was beautiful.  I think we also had a tail wind for a good part of the day.

One thing that has come home to me as I traveled, and also as I compile my photos to post, is how much things change as we travel along through the day. I think about the times when I have driven 400 or 500 miles in a day along the interstate and thought that the landscape was “boring.”  Such an idea seems ridiculous after this trip.

August 9.

Another 60 mile day, this time without a detour.  St. Marys is very close to the Florida border, but you can’t go as the crow flies.  We actually went north and west from St Marys before looping back toward the south and the east to cross the border and finally start down the coast near the ocean.  We crossed the state line 15 miles into today’s ride.

We went through a pretty heavily trafficked area and stopped for a brief break where we saw this beautiful neighborhood with a pond in the middle.

Pretty soon after that we were headed to Amelia Island and we got to ride right along the beach.  Most of the time we couldn’t see it, but every once in a while we would catch a glimpse.

Amelia Island had a state park where there was a nice bike path.  Some of it was a damaged road that is no longer being repaired since a new road and bridge were built parallel to the damaged road.  In talking with my nephew, Kris, I learned that the damage was probably caused by Hurricane Matthew.

Spanish moss is very pretty along here.  Some places it hangs down right over the path and feels like a low overhanging roof.  At the end of the bike path we spotted a spider up in his web.

Near the end of the day, we got to ride a ferry across the river before our last several miles to Atlantic Beach.  As we were standing in line for the ferry, we saw a storm trooper and got a picture with him!  Unfortunately, it wasn’t on my camera so I don’t have access to the photo right now.  But, I promise, we did see a Storm Trooper.  He was participating in some kind of scavenger hunt.

August 7 & 8.

When I first signed up for this ride, I signed up to go across the country.  That was my main goal.  Then I saw that the Cross Country Route and the East Coast Route came together in Savannah–so, like a crazy person, I thought, “I’ve never been to Key West!  After nine weeks, what’s two more?  And it will be flat!”  And then I proceeded to sign up for the last two weeks of the East Coast Route of the Fuller Center Bike Adventure.

My first day riding with the East Coast riders, we weren’t terribly close to the coast, but we hadn’t had too much in the way of hills for quite a while.  We left Savannah at what seemed to be about rush hour, though since we were heading out of town, I don’t remember it being all that bad.  It was bad enough to make me think that we had probably left right in time for rush hour, but that was the extent of it.

I was excited once we got going to discover that a couple of people in this group ride close to my speed.  In the cross country group, I was the slowest person by quite a bit.  This day, though, I was still in the last place except for the sweeps (those who volunteer to come in last and make sure everyone is accounted for).  Once they caught me, they helped block the wind.  We went a little tiny bit faster than I was really comfortable with, and eventually caught up with another group and went even faster.  (I think.  I get my days mixed up sometimes)  I was able to keep up, but it wore me down and I got a bit overheated.

I didn’t take any pictures on the way to Darien.  When we arrived in Darien, our destination was a Catholic Church there.  We were all sleeping in one room, not very large, and had to share one bathroom.  Originally, all our bikes were supposed to be kept in there, also.  We did, finally, manage to get a key to another room to put our bikes in, and a key to another bathroom.  It was locked all night, but it was unlocked again in the morning.  We not only use the restroom for its normal purposes–since we are a mixed sex group, we also use it for changing.  Quite a backlog when everyone is dressing and brushing their teeth and getting ready for the day!

In Darien, we were up before the sun.  The purpose of getting up before the sun is to be ready to take off as soon as it gets light enough to go.  It is cooler in the morning, but it doesn’t last very long.  Some mornings, we come out and it’s already hot and humid both.

Three of us: Mark, Mariesha, and I, had discovered the previous day that we rode comfortably together.  No one of us had to adjust our speed too much to be able to stay together.  So we rode together most of the day.  We were determined not to let ourselves be pushed into traveling too fast.  We saw some beautiful scenery that day, and were able to take a few photos.

This was also the day when we had to take a detour that ended up being quite long.  Detours on this trip are a strange experience, and it was lucky that it wasn’t raining.  When someone up front determines that a detour is necessary, I’m not sure what, exactly they do to determine the best route.  They may ask around, or they may simply check Google maps.  In the back, however, we are stuck with following the chalk marks on the road.  The marks, themselves, are usually well done.  The problem is, we’re never quite sure whether we missed one or not.

Today’s ride was scheduled to be 61.1 miles.  We had about reached that distance when we were met by Melissa with some ice water, who told us there were about 20 more miles to go–but only six to the next rest stop.  The three of us decided we had enough energy to go six more miles, but we weren’t so sure about another 20.  Actually, we understood her to mean there were 20 more miles after the rest stop, which was incorrect.  Nonetheless, we had decided that we would be done once we made it to the newly added detour-necessitated rest stop.  Eighty miles on bicycle is doable for me, and I probably could have gone that last 14 miles, but it’s really hard to reset that goal in your head from 61 to 81.

That night we stayed at St. Marys.  The church there was great!  They provided us with dinner and they let us use whatever we wanted.  Connor was playing ping pong with someone and dived after a ball and knocked over a pitcher of water just before dinner.  No one got upset.  We learned that St. Marys is the second oldest city, right after St Augustine.  It’s also the gateway to Cumberland Island, the largest of the barrier islands, and very close to the Okeefenokee Swamp–which sounds like a place in horror fiction where you get lost in the swamp.  It was a really fun evening.

 

August 5 & 6.

As you may recall, I received news earlier in the week that my Aunt Karen and my colleague and friend, Bob Walters had both died on Monday, July 31.  Aunt Karen’s memorial service will be held later.  But Bob Walters’ service was held on August 5.  Because he has friends and colleagues all over the country and all over the world, Plainfield United Methodist Church in Indiana made arrangements to lifestream the funeral.  It was at a time when all of our celebrations were over and people were each doing their own thing, so I decided that I would participate in the funeral.  One of our interns, Becky, had kindly offered to sit with me while I watched the funeral.  She was also the one who was able to figure out how to get it to play, as I was having technical difficulties at first.

As the first hymn was sung, I realized, “We’re in a Methodist Church.  I can sing along!”  So we found a hymnal, which happened to be already open to the hymn that was being sung (though I didn’t notice and went back and looked up the number).  Occasionally, the feed was interrupted, making it slightly difficult to sing along, but for the most part it went well.  There were parts of the sermon and the speakers that I also could not understand but I was able to join with the clergy in singing It is Well With My Soul.  I was thankful to be able to participate in that way, and thankful for Becky offering to sit with me.

In the evening we headed to the celebration for the tenth anniversary of the bike adventure.  The banquet was more fun than I expected!  First, we had an hour of meet and greet.  There was a banner to greet us and a cake, and jerseys and posters from each year of the ten year bike adventure.   Though we had raised more money than any of the previous bike adventures, we were still about $70,000 short of the goal of raising $2 million over the course of the ten years.  So, of course, there were some requests for pledges during the evening, and about $25,000 more was raised.  You could help us toward the goal–even $10 or $25 makes a difference!

Donate to the Fuller Center

We had speeches by the founder of the bike ride, Ryan Iafiogla, and current trip leaders, Henry Downes and Connor Cimente.  Leaders from the bike adventure in the past were introduced and we had a video review of ten years of Fuller Center Bike Adventure.  Ryan said they learned a lot in that first year when it really was an adventure, one thing being to call host churches ahead of time!  He also said, when the pavement turns to dirt and then the dirt becomes a track, and then even the track fades out, it’s probably time for the trip leader to admit he made a mistake!  Linda Fuller also gave a talk.

The food was great.  It was a “low country boil” in which they boil all the food together–corn, potatoes, onion, sausage, carrots, green beans, shrimp–and then afterwards, pour it out on a paper covered table and sprinkle on spices.  It was quite tasty, though some was a little too spicy for me.  The spice was red, so you could tell if you were getting medium spicy or super spicy.  You could also request to have some separately done if you were vegetarian or if you didn’t want all that spice.

Then we went our separate ways.  I had met one new rider at the church in Savannah, but then realized that it was hopeless trying to figure out who was on the East Coast ride, who was leaving the East Coast ride, and who was a previous rider who had come for the banquet.  It was too confusing for me, so I decided to wait for the team meeting on Sunday night to really make an effort at meeting people and learning their names.

I stayed in a room with some of my cross-country compatriots who were all going to go to church in the morning before they left.  We had morning devotions together, also, from Oswald Chambers’ book, My Utmost for His Highest.  In the afternoon I enjoyed coffee while working on my blog and then went to the famous Leopold’s for ice cream!

Team meeting and getting introduced to new people in the evening!