Ride For Doug - 10th Annual - Post Ride Thoughts

Here are my post-ride thoughts after the 10th Annual Ride For Doug.



As the day breaks it is clear it is going to be a hot one. At 9:30, the air is already warm, and our jackets are unzipped as we leave home to set up for the ride.

10 years - and it still sends shivers down my spine to pull into the lot. The setup team is already there, pylons and ribbon out. Signs going up. This is really going to happen. We park in our usual spot. Symbolically the handicapped spot. The bright orange motorcycle in stark contrast to the blue and white wheelchair painted on the asphalt. Today is about juxtaposition. The heart breaking reality of Muscular Dystrophy against the hope and resolve of a hundred bikers.

As the lot is set up, signs fluttering in the breeze, a man approaches. He has no motorcycle to register, and the ride is still hours ahead. He lives in the area, and his grandson - just 6 years old - has just been diagnosed with Muscular Dystrophy. My heart breaks. We take some time to talk. We talk of hurt, and of hope. Of promising research for the future, and the shock of today's pain. He will put is son in contact with me, and perhaps the road our family has travelled can be of comfort and hope.

It isn't long until the first engines are heard. Echoing through the trees they approach. Some bikes one at time, others in pairs. Once in a while a club arrives together - their entry formation causing all to stop and watch as they sweep into the lot, like an eagle swooping to guard her nest. And in it all, Doug is watching. Moving from bike to bike, talking to riders. Selfies are taken. High fives exchanged. This is Doug's lot. These are his people.

As the heat turns up, the ride approaches. Doug has taken the megaphone and is rounding up the riders for the briefing. His sense of humour shines through as he instructs "Grom riders to the front because they are freak'n awesome". It is a varied group of riders. Lots of chrome and leather from the cruiser and touring crowd. Big three wheeled trikes and can-ams, and little Honda Groms, almost lost in their shadows. A handful of scratched and dirty dual sports share space with shiny sport bikes. It doesn't matter WHAT you ride today, just THAT you ride. And that today, you Ride For Doug.

Perfectly timed, a plane roars overhead. A rider - not wanting to miss their 10th straight RFD - has surprised us with a fly by. All eyes turn skyward as the return pass salutes us. Canadian Snowbirds it was not, but a heartfelt gesture by yet another friend of Doug. If you want to think of fighting Muscular Dystrophy as a battle (and it is), you're going to need your air support.

We are then off. Eighty nine motorcycles strong, leaving the lot in a show of power. One of their own has a tough battle ahead, and every one of the riders is proving they are riding with Doug. He is not alone. This next week, while at the hospital hooked up to his weekly IV, he won't be thinking about Muscular Dystrophy. He will be sharing the tales of the road. Talking about who showed up, who got a new bike this year, and planning and scheming on how to get one of his own. 

The cool breeze of the open road is a welcome relief to the heat of the pavement. As the line of bikes snakes through the roads of Langley, Abbotsford, and Mission - Doug's head is turning around to catch the sight. There are some interesting looks from the cars we pass. Cool and refreshed with their air conditioning on high, there is open wonderment at what could draw these bikes all together.

Our first stop was at Cascade Falls. Crowded today because of the beautiful weather. We are met with bottles of ice cold water. Hot sweat meets cold water, and for a minute, the cold water wins. More stories are swapped - mostly from the safety of a shady tree. Smiles in spite of the discomfort of motorcycle leathers at rest in the sun. We, like the leathers, are built for the ride - not to stay idle - so the stop is a short one. First one, then the others firing up their engine, the sound echoing off the beautiful backdrop of wilderness. 

In spite of the hydration stop, Doug has developed a migraine. And for the next hour he presses on, refusing to use the chase car and its air conditioned cool. He doesn't want to miss a second of this, and drawing from the strength around him, presses on. I check him regularly. We have signals, and my questioning taps are answered mile after mile with ever increasing assurance that "he's got this one".

Sweeping corner after sweeping corner fall behind us as we roar through the shadows. Cooling breeze (and some advil) have helped Doug to stay ahead of the headache. His smile is there as he looks back at each corner at the never ending snake of bikes. If only we could live in this moment the rest of our lives. There are no hospital beds, no needles, no nurses. On the road there is only peace. Beautiful scenery, close friends, and the comforting throb of the engine.

Our second stop approaches, and more cold water. Volunteers have added watermelon to the mix, and the crisp cool  sweetness reminds us that sometimes you need to experience the exhaustion of heat to fully appreciate the coolness of refreshment. In the midst of pain, joy is all the more sweet. Plans are being made here. Riders exchange notes of which sections they plan to revisit. Doug finds his new Grom friends and asks if he can sit on one. I'm not sure whether to be proud or concerned as he discusses wheelie techniques with them. His feet almost reach the ground, and I can see Doug working on his angle to buy one in just a few short years when he turns 16. What I wouldn't give to be able to promise him that he could ride one. Muscular Dystrophy sucks.

Out of the lot we pull. Nearly ninety bikes in formation. Rumbling through Glen Valley, proudly proclaiming loyalty and friendship. People can sense the cause. On River Road, a motorist stops their truck to allow us to complete a left turn all together. Rewarded for their kindness by front row seat to a parade - and dozens of waves from grateful riders. The pull of an air conditioned BBQ leading us home.

As we pull back into the lot - we are greeted by a crowd of supporters. Friends and family without bikes, who join us for the post ride celebration. Row after row of returning bikes park. Each and every one with a smile on their face. Good roads for a good cause. Over a hundred miles ridden without accident. 

This year, Doug's guitar teacher has put together a band. They rock the BBQ with songs right off of Doug's iPod playlist. Doug was going to join them as guest guitarist on one number, but the band and Doug practised in different keys. That certainly could have ended poorly. As a 10 year retrospective slideshow played on the big screens, the band launched into "This Old Highway", a song written specifically for Ride For Doug. I have cried many a tear to that tune. Usually on the road, in my helmet, thinking about the future. Today it brought me strength. The imagery renewed.

We finished the night off with a program, thanking volunteers and sponsors. Door prizes, and jokes. Stories swapped. The Director of Services from Muscular Dystrophy Canada then took the stage. Margot Beauchamp shared the challenges faced by families with Muscular Dystrophy. Challenges with equipment funding shortfalls. An ever increasing need, against a shrinking support base. She thanked all of us for our support, encouraging us to keep giving. Without the support of events like this, funding and programs for families will dry up quickly. Thank you friends of Doug.

But there was more. Doug's sister Sam took the mic. She spoke boldly and openly about what it felt like to be the sibling of Doug. She shared about how it felt to be in the shadow of her younger brother, and how Muscular Dystrophy has not only stolen from him, but from her as well. Things other families do together - like riding bikes or going on hikes can't happen. She talked about how the demands of medical appointments and other events cut into her family time, and how it can feel like loss. It is not often a teenager will bare their soul like this, and yet Sam lowered her walls in a room full of bikers. And by the end, many an eye was wet. She deserved the standing ovation she received. And I don't think anyone is prouder of her than her mother and I.

I wrapped things up with a few thoughts of my own. 10 years of Ride For Doug. I don't think anybody could have guessed that we'd be here. It has been a long and winding road. In the time since the last RFD, Doug has switched from weekly injections of his clinical trial drug to a weekly IV. He has had not one, but two surgeries to install ports. I have flown to Washington DC to lobby the FDA for drug approval. And we have logged more than 60 visits to Children's hospital. But Doug is still walking. For a DMD boy of 13.5 years, this is impressive. But with the sweet comes the bitter. This week, just 5 days before Ride For Doug, the trial medication he is on has been discontinued. The drug was not receiving the approvals it needed to move forward, and the drug company has decided to reallocate its resources to other Muscular Dystrophy treatment research. Days like this are why we need Ride For Doug, and the friends and family who support us. Pain and disappointment are never far away. We will be leaning on you in the coming days as we regain our footing. And after a day like today, we have no doubt that you will be there.

For 2016, Ride For Doug had two fundraising goals. The first was to support Muscular Dystrophy Canada the way we always have. For the first 9 years of RFD, we have raised between $150,000 and $160,000 for this charity. This year, we added to that total by nearly $20,000.

Our second goal for this year was to help purchase a Stair Lift for Doug in his own home. As he is getting older, stairs are becoming much more challenging. He needs a way to move from floor to floor. We have received quotes of between $23,000 and $28,000 to fit one to our stairway. Funding is available, but very limited. We have been told to expect no more than $6,000 to $10,000 between health insurance, and various charity applications. This leaves a shortfall that could be as large as $20,000.

RFD 2016 raised over $12,000 for this project. This is where words fail me. There is not a powerful enough word for "Thank You" that I can use here. It's no wonder Doug is in the constant good spirits he is. He knows who is with him. He knows that when the rubber hits the road, friends and family like this will be there.

In total, Ride For Doug 2016 raised in excess of $30,000*. And money is still coming in. Never let anyone doubt the resolve of a biker, nor their loyalty to their friends.

Thank you. Looking forward to riding with you again next year.

* note the final totals were lower than those announced at the BBQ. Some pledged money didn't arrive so the totals have been adjusted accordingly.