Its morning, and there is excitement in the air.  Today, two tour groups, Cops for Cancer – Tour de Coast and Tour de Valley come together for a joint jersey presentation.  Forty-three police officers and emergency personnel riding for a common goal, finding a cure for pediatric cancer and funding a special program called Camp Goodtimes.  As we stand outside in the sun, there is a false sense of warmth.  There is an arctic cold front.   Goose pimples rise up on uncovered arms.  Some riders cuddle amongst their fellow riders and others shiver.   There are gust of winds of 50-60 km per hour. Someone comments, “Planes are having trouble landing at the airport.”  Inside, presentations are made and it is the beginning of the 2012 COPS for cancer campaign.  Riders congregate outside and the lead motor cycle escort and the team captains are giving instructions to riders such as hand signals, exchanging lead riders, avoiding crossing the white/yellow lines and most importantly, avoid crossing the paths of our motorcycle escorts.   We begin the ride in a peloton.  There is enthusiasm, hand signals are used, and shouts are heard advising of potential dangers such as pot holes and railway tracks.   And it becomes apparent that there are new riders; distances between riders are several meters apart, riders tend to stay up front longer and there is a momentarily reluctance in riding four abreast shoulder to shoulder, during exchanges of front riders.   And there are gentle reminders from experience rider to new riders to stay on the right side of the white/yellow line, thereby avoiding the upcoming speeding motor escort.    Going up the hills, we become tangled, and the idea of drafting and using the front rider’s momentum becomes a distant memory.  Riders spread apart, and strength varies.  As the hour progresses, riders become closer and exchanges become more defined and frequent.  There is laughter and there are youthful chants.  And as the ride ends, one cyclist yells out, “let’s do it again.”  Maybe today’s lesson:  In every adult, there lies an inner child in his/her heart who wants to jump out and play.  And yes, we did play!

Richmond to Vancouver

The end is near and we can see the end of the tunnel.  We stop at schools and several business communities.  The message:  find a cure for pediatric cancer and fund raise for a special place called Camp Goodtimes.  The morning is cool, crisp and dry.  We leave Richmond and we are directed to the UBC endowment lands.  The peloton is tight. Motorcycle escorts are ensuring our safety between intersections.  Eyes are open and ears are listening for the sound of our escorts beeping their horns and fellow riders yelling or pointing at potholes or unexpected, unforeseen objects.  We go along Marine Drive and see the sparse populated sandy beaches, the partial skyline of North Vancouver and Vancouver   and the changing colors of the maple leaves.  Yes, autumn is coming!  We listen to cars honking, clapping of supporters’ hands and the sounds of encouraging words.  It is inspiring.  We come to the end of our amazing journey to a large and robust crowd of children.  We pass the torch.  It is these children that will continue on this amazing journey.  Some will become doctors, some will become researchers, some will become business people who will become philanthropist, some will become fundraisers and some will become donors.  It is this continuous ever revolving circle, where donors and fundraisers will allow researchers to research and doctors to keep patients alive.  I believe, we believe that this generation will come closer to finding a cure for cancer and find a cure for certain cancer.  That will be……….  AMAZING!

Pitt Meadows, Maple Ridge, Port Coquitlam, New Westminster, Richmond

Another day, and as I look up, I see a strange bright object in the sky. As I inhale the cold air, my body awakens and as I exhale, I see my frosted breath.    My finger tips become numb due to the cold metal frame of the handle bars.  While we ride, I see several workers mowing the inclined grassy knoll and the smell of fresh grass lingers in my mind.  To my left, I see low fog laden fields.  And when we stop, I can see the heat of our body’s dissipate in the air.  Yes, today will be a good day!  Casey, our junior rider will be our special guest for breakfast.  As usual, he charms our hearts and his actions continuously remind us of the reasons why we partake in this nine day journey. A delicious breakfast is followed by a quick visit at Casey’s school.  We see his charm and his ability to influence the school population.  We carry on and look towards Richmond.  There are no head winds or torrential rains which allows us to view the majestic scenery over the Queensbourgh Bridge.  Onto my right, I see the endless park new foreign cars and to my left, there is the historic picture view of the work industry of the Fraser River: log booms. We continue on and I notice, the group being tighter and exchange of lead riders are quicker and smoother and there is more awareness and communication between riders.  As we travel along River Road, we see the ripples of the Fraser River and to my left the reflective view of the patchy clouds of the crystal clear still waters of the water filled cranberry fields.  The cool air is slowly being heated. Traveling through Richmond, we see many scenic areas; in Steveton, the fishing boat, grassy sandy beaches, green algae covered ditches, the pumpkin filled fields and the sweet smell of the salt air.  On the north side of Richmond, we glimpse at the descending plane, the salt air and the disgusting smell of fish being process in the fish canneries.  Yes! All my senses are alive.  Later on we are hosted at a fund raising gala, and we are given a hero’s welcome.  There are no lessons today, but there are many moments to treasure!