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It all began with a dream. Now we have pedaled 10,000 miles, just the two of us, at an age when most folks bicycles have long since been donated to the Goodwill. In 2008 we rode the last 2,300 miles ... Fargo, North Dakota to Bar Harbor Maine ... to complete our circle around the USA. Seattle ... San Diego ... St. Augustine ... Boston ... and back to Seattle.
Jodie gazed wistfully through the cafe window. Hundreds of bikers pedaled by, laughing and sweating. Staring through the steam of her latte, she dreamed of joining that river of brightly dressed cyclists doing the STP ... back to back one hundred mile days, biking from Seattle to Portland. A collage of color and motion, joy and effort. George called it "bikers Woodstock" except everyone was fully clothed and stone-cold sober. What a hoot!
But, it seemed an impossible dream. There were kids to raise and bills to pay, college tuition and health insurance. Who had time or energy to train? Besides, Jodie had always been a confirmed couch potato. No jogging, biking or weight lifting for this girl. No treadmills or rowing machines either, and definitely no camping. She was a card carrying comfort queen. Roughing it was slow room service at the Hyatt. Sweat and grime were for other folks, like her husband and all his demented friends.
George ran marathons, climbed mountains, cycled hard and skied straight down the fall line with no sense of fear or danger. No sense at all, in fact, in her humble opinion. He thought working your body was fun, and sweat was worth it's weight in gold. She wanted them to ride the STP together, but she could never keep up his pace. And so the dream went into hibernation, but it never died.
Over the years, the dream would emerge and then fade, but never completely disappear. Then one spring day in 1991 we bought a tandem bike, and the dream became a reality. And the reality spawned bigger dreams that became bigger realities, and that cycle continues to this day, and stretches to the future as far as our eyes can see.
Come share the dream.
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