Today is the morning after the 6th annual Ride
For Doug. What an experience. The day starts in an empty parking lot. A cool breeze blows, and the clouds tease us
with hints of rain. A deep rumble
begins, but rather than rain bringing thunder, it is the sound of riders
beginning to arrive. Black leather,
shining chrome. The smell of power. I close my eyes, taking in the sensations, holding the hand of
the boy that made it happen. Today is
Doug’s day. These are his friends
arriving.
Bike after bike arrives.
Riders from all points of the compass, harking news of the weather. A drizzle here, a cool breeze there. Nothing that can stop these riders from coming. They are here for Ride For Doug.
Doug is on cloud nine.
He wanders from rider to rider with a keen sense of purpose. He remembers who has come before, and
welcomes those who have come for the first time. Bikes are admired, and many questions are
asked and answered by patient bikers with soft hearts.
And still they arrive.
The black and chrome is punctuated by bright flashes of colour. It doesn’t matter what style of bike you ride
today. Long sweeping cruisers
intermingle with high strung sportbikes, a peppering of dual purpose bikes
providing a dirty contrast to the gleam and shine.
Once assembled, the ride is ready to move out. Eighty-eight bikes speak with but a single
voice. Eighty-eight bikes forming a
column of support stronger than any bridge girder, and stretching further than
the eye can see. Doug rides up at the
front with me. His sister Samantha, on a
bike beside him. His mother Allison, on
a bike behind him. I can feel him taking
it in, turning to watch the long snake of bikes travel up and down the
undulating road.
This is the point where I am usually moved to tears. This show of support strikes deep to the
core. There is nothing in the world that
can match such an overwhelming experience.
And it’s not just the riders. To get to this point has been hours and hours
of work by a multitude of volunteers.
Showing their support with the horsepower of their actions. They are with us on the road – perhaps not on
two wheels, but definitely in spirit.
We head through the roads of Langley, Abbotsford, and cross
into Mission. The weather is holding,
the leather staying dry. Our first stop
approaches.
At the BC Hydro Recreation Area by Ruskin dam – the riders
are greeted by an enthusiastic team of volunteers. Pointing the way and cheering us on. I can feel Doug’s face beaming behind
me. Nearly a hundred bikes stream into
the lot, and the riders dismount for a stretch.
Stories are being shared with friends and strangers alike, and smiles
abound. The volunteer team at the rest
stop provides water – enthusiastically delivered to the riders by two boys
around Doug’s age. This is not their
first Ride For Doug either. These bearers of water have volunteered before, and
have taken the spirit of The Ride throughout their year – bearing the flag of
Muscular Dystrophy on behalf of Doug.
Another highlight takes place here. Doug’s sister, Samantha, and her grandmother
have spent the weekend baking cookies.
Riders who are RFD veterans make a beeline for her basket. The smiles grow. Three hundred cookies are
consumed faster than the starting grid at a Grand Prix race. It seems Samantha
has found her own way to support Doug, and Allison and I feel a swelling of
pride as sibling rivalry takes a back seat – at least for today.
Back onto the road we go.
Twisting and turning through Mission and some of my favourite
streets. The pavement here isn’t as
smooth, and the corners are tight and blind.
These roads remind me of the challenges that Muscular Dystrophy families
face continually. A bumpy ride through
life, never knowing what is around the next bend. Gripping the bars and doing our best to
navigate through a never ending series of challenges. But then I hear it – the sound of exhaust
echoing off the hills beside the road.
The thunder that tells me that I’m not riding alone up here. My loved ones are close, and the community
has gathered to ride behind me. We can
do this together.
An hour or so later, we pull into the second rest stop. Through a quirk of fate, some of the riders
near the back took a shortcut and ended up here first. We arrive to the sight of 50+ bikes lined up
and waiting. Their riders just
dismounting. We share some laughs, and
swap some stories of the road. New
friendships are forged in the common experience. Happy volunteers spread water to thirsty
riders, and their vibrant excitement (and fluorescent shirts) raise our spirits
further. These are some of Doug’s SEAs
from school – joining in the celebration, and showing that they too are on
Doug’s team fighting Muscular Dystrophy.
One more leg of the ride to go. Another mile long rolling demonstration of
resolve. “We must beat Muscular
Dystrophy”. That is what the engines are
saying. “We must beat Muscular
Dystrophy”. My heart is strengthened
with each mile. How can we not beat it
with support like this? What disease
dares to stand a chance in the face of Doug and his biker army?
The miles fall away, and almost too soon we arrive
back. The sun, greeting us as it pushes
away the last of the clouds. But not just the sun - the parking holds another
radiant sight. Friends, family, and a host of others greet the returning riders
with standing applause. As the bikes
roll in, one after another, their engine still singing their song, the riders
are treated to a royal arrival. Because
they are all heros. Doug’s Heros.
We move inside to a BBQ.
A welcome sight to the hungry riders.
Tables fill with a mixture of over 300 riders and non-riders alike, and
stories are swapped. Bridges are built
across cultures, and friendships are established in a common cause. The mosaic
of people is as colourful as the bikes parked outside. We have riders, extended family, friends. Nurses and researchers from BC Children’s
hospital. Doug’s classmates, teachers,
and administration. Local government is
represented. We have families in the
midst of their own battles with Muscular Dystrophy, and those who have lost
loved ones to the disease. Doug’s new
friends are welcomed, and added to the mix.
We celebrate with food, and with door prizes. We recognize the generosity of our volunteers
and our sponsors – many of whom actually ride with us. I have the opportunity to share a bit of what
it is like for our family, as we are currently involved in a research project
to treat Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy. I
think I managed to hold back the tears this year, mostly. This year, the proceeds of the ride will be
used to fund research for a cure to Muscular Dystrophy.
And then, it is back to the parking lot where we
started. Doug insists on seeing each
bike off. Thanking them for their
support. For the courage to face another
year.
As the engines fade away, their cry can still be heard in
the distance. “We must beat Muscular
Dystrophy. We must beat Muscular
Dystrophy.”
1 comment:
a) YOU BLOGGED!!
b) Wow, sounds like an awesome day, wish Annette/I could have been there
c) my turn to be moved to tears reading your story. So powerful, so glad you get to experience life together knowing that others have your back.
THANKS!!
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