Now, we are back home and there will be a lot to process before we better understand what we have just been through. It will be time before we know what God still has to teach us from it all.

I’m thankful for the hospitality of so many, for the support of so many more, and for the friendships that have been formed.

We just took Abe and Kate to the airport so things feel a little more final, but I know that as the weeks go by and we look at pictures, read back on journals, and get some rest we will begin to understand how much this has affected our lives.

On 11/11/11 we rode into Austin and completed the h2o ride. We pedaled through downtown and out to the Pfluger Bridge to return to where our ride began.

Then we held a party with our families and supporters to remember and celebrate everything we had done together.

Thank you God for leading us to and through the h2o ride.

I had wanted to write about Yosemite for some time, but I was either lacking in time, equipment, or energy.  I wanted to write about the majesty and beauty I experienced there and how amazing that day’s ride was.  But the days after turned into weeks.  The road went up the coast where the air was filled with fog.  The route turned east where the mountains turned into desert. But then, we reached a place that was equal in wonder and allure.  This place was called Glacier.  Thus the story follows:

The ride through Yosemite was the best ride of my life.  This Monday was filled with everything a cyclist could ask for: descents, forests, tailwinds, monstrous climbs, breathtaking views, and cool temperatures.  The day started from approximately 8,600′ at the top of a town called Mammoth Lakes, where we were incredibly blessed at the last minute with a condo to ourselves for the weekend.  When we let go of our brakes at the bottom of the town, we took an incredible road through the forest that was filled with pine trees.  A slight climb led to mostly down hills and turned out to be brilliantly more enjoyable compared to the highway.  With a couple of climbs and a few more descents, we arrived at the low point of the day (altitude-wise).  Here started the climb; a climb to be remembered; a climb worthy of God’s praise.  Tioga Pass.  The next 8.5 miles were possibly the most grueling climb I have encountered.  It was not as steep as the hills of Austin, but it was much, much longer.  The headwind merely added to its grandeur. As soon as the climb started, you could see a line cut alongside the mountains that curved around the valley which could only be a road.  After countless repetitions of switching between sitting-down-granny-gear and standing-up-second-gear and 3,200 vertical feet later, I reached the top!  I had the entrance booth at the peak in my sight.  I rode by our rest stop, yards short of the goal, and passed the long line of cars waiting to get in.  I rode right up to the booth, set my bike in front of the elevation sign for a quick picture and hopped back on the beast, heading back down (towards the rest stop).  The waiting motorists must have thought this was a mere training exercise that I had accomplished and was now going back home from all the shouts of encouragement and way-to-go hand signs I received.

The air is much thinner and cooler  at 9,945′, but not so much to impede a quick play in the snow.  Taking a quick break from the chronology of the story, I would like to mention a simply magnificent lake that I passed right before the summit.  It was a lake that only appears to men in dreams.  Unexpectedly appearing around a corner, the blue water was a sight of beauty as it wore a crown of snowcapped mountains around its edge.  The clear blue skies beyond it declared that this lake was lifted above all others.  Returning to the story, the rest of the ride was such a joy and my lack of descriptive capability will not do it justice.  There were several more decent climbs through the park, usually resulting in a great view of the grey rock canyon below and a nice descent to enjoy.  The road snaked along the edge of the canyon wall and composed of twists and turns, trees and stones, and waterfalls and creeks.  The sheer beauty and diverse terrain has earned Tioga Pass the top ranking spot of my cycling days.  The only point of criticism would be the traffic on the small, shoulderless road.  One was required to play traffic cop while riding and to thank God when the huge RV renters didn’t run you over.

The second glimpse of Eden was through Glacier National Park.  While Yosemite was my favorite ride of the trip, Glacier would have to be my favorite place so far. A few days before, I stumbled upon the interesting fact that cyclists are not allowed on the climb named Going-to-the-Sun Road between 11am and 4pm.  This either meant that we would have a very long rest stop before a 3,400′, ten mile climb or we would have a very early morning.  As a team, we unanimously chose the latter.  Some time before the sun did, we woke up in a church gym in Kalispell, MT.  It was a cold morning and my gloves were still wet from washing them the night before.  With the absence of a dryer in the church that had a McDonald’s type playland, I pulled up a chair to the oven to keep an eye on my gloves cooking in front of me.  At 5:45 we were off; unfortunately, the sun wouldn’t be until 6:35.  With our bike lights on, and Abe wearing my headlight, we proceeded towards the snowy peaks.  The calculations were foolproof: leave at 5:45, average 14mph for 50 miles, two 5 minute rest stops, average 7mph up the 10 mile climb, arrive at the top exactly at 11am.  We had the wind at our backs and the light was increasing.  We reached the entrance of the park a little past 8am where the man-in-the-booth did not allow us to just ride through without paying per bike like the girl-in-the-booth did at Yosemite.  He responded with a stern “This ain’t no Yosemite son.”  With a line forming behind us, we threw our bikes in the trailer (along with Abe and myself), drove 10 feet through the gate, stopped, unloaded, and we were once again on our way with an extra $48.  Twenty more quick miles along the beautiful lake next to the mountains and we stopped shortly to de-clothe and refuel.  The plan was going swimmingly; we were on time.  At the base of the climb, I started to see some shimmers high up on the mountainside.  When I realized that the shimmers were cars and they were on the road ahead of me, I let out a gasp at the unthinkable height difference between us.  The climb turned out to be much easier than I had readied for.  The grade was a constant 6% and never felt to change.  Don’t get me wrong, the climb was definitely long and impressive no doubt, but not as grueling as the previous Tioga Pass.

I think I would have easily made it to the top in time if I had not stopped for so many photo-shoots.  The road went up through wonderfully green vegetation with rock cliffs jutting out into and over the road.  In several places there was water pouring off the side right onto the path.  After the one and only switchback of the climb, the views became more and more magnificent.  Many times I thought as I stopped to take a picture, “Wow! This view is even better!”  The road overlooked the valley and the mountains continued to increase in height, sharpness of peaks, and accumulation of snow.  I have seen breath-taking mountains before, but the ones here in Glacier are definitely unique.  A sight to see no doubt!  They had a barren and wilderness feel to them that suggested we were in a place few people have been.  While the picture taking slowed me down, I’m pretty sure I still could have made it in time if it weren’t for the several construction sections that I had to wait at for our turn to go.  I reached the top at 11:17am, close enough to not get a ticket, which apparently they give out to violators.  After pondering the engineering marvel of the road and the design of the surrounding mountains for awhile, we finally saw Abe walking atop the peak after getting his second flat of the climb.  What followed was an exhilarating descent about half as large as the climb on mostly dirt construction roads.  A few more miles along another massive glacial lake and we had arrived at our campsite.  The next day was filled with awe and a couple of short hikes through this small glimpse of Eden.

Eventually we rolled out in to the grayness.  The twenty mile jaunt to the south end of Lake Champlain was hilly and a punctured tire early on had me concerned about catching a chill from being stopped for too long in the cold wet air.  A quick change of the tube had me back on the bike before any shivers set in and we pressed on to the first break.  After some time at the break, it was clear that we as a team would not be leaving any time soon.  When I overheard the options for local laundromats being discussed, I knew I would have to go rogue if the day’s destination was to be reached.  I informed the team of my intentions and pedaled over the Whitehall Bridge in to Vermont.  

The rest of the story of the first of October can not be properly told here.  All combinations of zeroes and ones are inadequate.  The story can only be properly told over a pint or two of ale in the company of good friends and strangers alike.  I can convey that it turned out all right in the end, as I sit here typing in a finely appointed living room in quail hunting country with a German short-hair pointer at my feet.  Rest here in the woods on the Florida/Georgia border has been good and we have occupied ourselves with things which we don’t usually have time for such as reading, completing our final media campaign, napping, posting updates, and attempting to secure gainful employment upon the completion of our journey.

- The sun comes out.

- It gets flat.

- People say “y’all.”

- Sun Drop

- People know how to make sweetea.

- Statues of General Lee dominate the square.

- Biscuits and gravy for breakfast.

- Trees grow out of the water.

- Shrimp and grits for breakfast.

- Cotton blankets the fields.

We’ll be home in just a few short weeks! Speaking of coming home, there will be a celebration of our return and a time for you to come hear our stories on the night of November 11 (a Friday). More details to come, so check back or on Facebook soon.

In mid-August, Eric’s parents June & Bill Breckinridge spent almost two weeks with us as we rode through Washington, Idaho and Montana. Here is a post from June about her time with the team that gives an example of the amazing people we meet along our journey.

On a beautiful evening in Kalispell, MT as we enjoyed the cool breezes and beautiful vista of the Dowler’s homestead, I was hooked. A little boy named Noah, who loves to fish asked if I would like to see his lure collection. He had Joel and I wander around past the chicken coop to a little trailer where he opened the door and invited us in. His eyes lit up as he unlatched his tackle box and began to pull out each lure and explain what type of fish each one attracts. Pulling out his prize lure, a cylindrical shaped shiny, bright red and gold lure that looked like a Christmas tree ornament to me he said, “This is my favorite, my grandpa gave it to me. He then explained that it was for catching Pike and the hooks had to be big because Pike have really sharp teeth. When he was finished showing us his collection, he pulled out a lure for both Joel and I to take with us. A child with such a generous heart to share something he prized totally touched my heart.

Not knowing how to carry it for the rest of the evening, I attached the lures to the hem of my shirt. His mother smiled when she saw them and said, “I see Noah wanted to share with you.” As I told her how touched I was with his giving heart, she explained that they often have to tell him he can’t give everything away. I pray that the Lord prospers him abundantly and that he will always keep his giver’s heart.

As I reflected on the lure collection, I wonder if perhaps God was using this little boy to remind us about how to fish. We must know about the fish first. Where do they live, what do they seek, what do they require, what attracts them? Then we must carefully choose the best lure and cast it out and wait. Sometimes fish will follow the lure very cautiously, they may nibble or bite, they may even get hooked. There are different baits for different fish, just as there are different ways to reach different people with the Good News about Christ.

I think about all the different fish and people in this world but the one thing they both have in common is their need for water and food to survive. Riding along with the h2o ride team has made me aware of how important it is to show Christ’s love in practical ways by providing the basic needs for people. As the opportunities are open, we are often more able to discuss spiritual needs.

That night I couldn’t pull the hooks out of my shirt hem. I was hooked. My prayer is that through the efforts of this team many people, both in our own country and around the world will be “hooked” for Christ.

•          •          •

June Breckinridge
h2o Home Team
junebreckinridge@yahoo.com

Brace yourself, friends. The long break in our correspondence requires a long update. After many weeks of big sky country, interesting findings in ND, a week off in the windy city, and hilly, silvan countrysides the team made it to Maine and the Atlantic mostly safe, sound and not too warm. Autumn comes quickly in the Northeast and with it chilly mornings and even chillier rain. We’ve met all the people these 8 weeks would allow and found them to be every bit as hospitable and lovely as we could hope.

Today, we are 3/4 of the way through our journey!

We look to the South with hope for warmth and sun, more familiar roads and less traffic. Almost every day I wonder how we can still be out here pedaling our tired bikes with our tired legs. Only by the grace of our great God! I count it a privilege to be able to write to you now, alive and well. The events of last week, which I am about to divulge to you with brevity (yeah right), I was sure were going to be the end of us. And so, with that melodramatic introduction, I will begin.

Saturday, September 24, was the day before my birthday. We were headed to Erie, PA for the weekend, hoping to get some things done (as usual), not expecting to have the energy to really do all of them (as even more usual). The roads up here aren’t that great. Lots of cracks and uneven pavement. The day was going perfectly until one of these cracks also had a really big puddle next to it in the shoulder. Joel, who was leading the group, called it out and went around it. Eric followed Joel. Abe veered into the grass to avoid it. Troves tried to hop up on the top of the uneven pavement, but ended up going through it. I also tried hopping up on the lip, but my back wheel didn’t make it and I crashed.

I landed in the road, so my first thought was scramble to the roadside to avoid getting hit by a car. Once laying in the grass, a lady who witnessed the crash, who happened to be a nurse, and Joel came running up. They saw my cracked helmet and started asking me if my head hurt or if I was dizzy. “Yes, a little,” was my unfortunate response. I only say unfortunate because I spent the next several hours strapped to a board, racking up my first hospital bill. After some x-rays they let me go with only some scrapes and bruises to show off.

Two cool things happened because of this crash. One is that I got to ride in an ambulance. The other is that I got to share our mission with the nurses, x-ray techs, and a state trooper.

And then the best thing ever happened!! My parents showed up! Oh how wonderful a meeting it was, all hugs and kisses and tears of joy and get well flowers! They had come up to surprise me for my birthday, meaning to meet me at a rest stop, but met me at the hospital instead. And I had been wondering why my own mother wasn’t answering her phone when I was in the hospital!! Haha…

The rest of the weekend was great. We all relaxed and my body got stiffer. My wrists and neck were so stiff that I was unable to ride on Monday. Monday we said goodbye to my parents and headed out to Buffalo, NY. Another beautiful day! It smelled like grapes.

Our hosts in Buffalo were absolutely wonderful. Sara and Josh Merwyn, and their kids Abigail, Lillian, and Ellis, threw a fundraiser party for us with hot dogs, live music, cake, desserts, and a suggested donation of $20 per plate. It was so fun! And so successful! She raised over $1000! We were so blessed by everyone there and by Sara and Josh’s commitment to our cause.

Tuesday morning we visited Niagara Falls. Talk about h2o!

Our ride on Tuesday took us to Rochester, NY. From there we went to Oswego, NY and stayed at a community house/ministry called Grace and Glory Wednesday night. We didn’t make it in before it started pouring outside. Thursday morning was beautiful, and the roads only a little wet.

Our ride to Inlet, NY on Thursday was interrupted by a downpour that none of us were dressed for. The rain came down in sheets that blinded us. Joel, Troves, and I huddled in a shed, shivering in our thin, wet clothes. When the support crew arrived to save us from hypothermia, we changed into dry, warm clothes and set off. But we had lost too much daylight in the delay. We ended our ride about 10 miles before Inlet and picked up where we left off the next morning.

Friday’s weather was perfect. A beautiful day and a beautiful ride through the Adirondacks. Oh man. You gotta see it. It may be my favorite place we’ve been so far.

Our hosts for the evening, Pastor Charlie and family, ushered us in to their home right before the rains began again. We enjoyed lasagna, showers, laundry, and some local history lessons before heading to bed at the church next door.

A brief glance at the forecast Saturday morning wasn’t needed to know that we were never to be dry that day. It started raining early, with no promise of letting up. We stayed indoors as long as we could, trying to avoid the wet, cold world outside. All of our clothes were on us, plus some plastic bags and duck tape. And still we were not equipped for what lay ahead.

We say we ride rain or shine, but nobody told me about cold, rainy, windy weather. We all got split up on the first leg and arrived at the first stop in varying states. Eric, who was prepared for weather much worse than this (like snow), kept going, as dry as can be in his Gore-tex gear. We weren’t sure were Abe was… Troves, Joel, and I were about to shiver to death, even after some hot chocolate. We decided the only acceptable course of action was to get our clothes dry before continuing. We changed out of our wet things and visited the laundromat. 2 hours later our gloves and wool socks were finally dry. Thank you, God, that you provided a support crew as patient and wonderful as Leila and Michael. What would we do with out them?!? It was 3:00 PM before we were finally ready to keep going, and we still had 72 miles left.

We were supposed to have gone from NY through VT to NH on Saturday. It was going to be so cool to go to three states in one day! Haha…there was no way we could make it before dark, so we sent Leila, Michael, and Audrey ahead to our host, where Abe and Eric would hopefully be. The last we heard from them was from text messages that warned us against back roads. (You’ll have to hear their stories about the day. It’s craziness.) The intent was that we’d go 20 or 30 more miles today and then someone would come back and pick us up when it got dark, bring us to our host, and then bring us back the next day so we could finish the ride on Sunday (which would normally be our sabbath).

(Are you still following this? My memory of it is so jumbled and dreamlike, I’m sure you’re just dying to be done reading already. Don’t worry. You can stop now. Everyone ends up alright. No one even gets sick!)

It’s 3 PM. We set off again, with dry clothes and a few hours of daylight left. It started to rain.

After 10 miles Troves told us that his hands were about to freeze off. (“We are tropical animals!”) It’s time to give up for the day. Our light was failing and the temp was dropping. Dunkin’ Donuts offered the promise of a hot drink, so we pulled in and stayed there for an hour, burning our tongues and figuring out the best course of action. It was 5 PM and the support crew was still trying to get to our host.

After talking with the employees, we decided to go to the Castleton Pizza Place and Deli to wait until the support crew could come back and pick us up. They didn’t close until 10 PM so we had plenty of time. At first it was nice. It was good to sit down, eat some soup, start to warm up. But we couldn’t shake our chills. And we kept getting worse news from the support crew. Eric and Abe weren’t at the host place. They weren’t answering their phones. It would take 8 hours of driving for Michael to come get us, bring us to where we were supposed to be, bring us back the next day, and drive back. It seemed like our best bet was to find a hotel somewhere close by and stay there. But we had no dry clothes with us, so the support crew would need to bring some. We started calling around. Everything was booked and our phones were running out of juice.

Finally, Eric and Abe showed up! It’s 8 PM. Michael had gone to town to get dinner for everyone, so the crew didn’t start heading our way until 8:45. It was a 2 hour trip, so we began to worry about being kicked out into the cold night. Troves stuffed some wadded up newspaper in his jersey to keep warm. I did the same. The support crew kept running into road closures and detours and dead ends coming back through VT. Their ETA was well after 10.

Finally, we found a couple of vacancies and tried to book them. Dropped call. We tried again from the restaurant’s phone and the phone with the credit card info on it died. So we used Troves’ card. Yay! A warm place to sleep! It was probably about 10 PM. Joel started explaining everything to the employees of the pizza place and miraculously 2 of them offered to give us a ride to our hotel in Rutland, the next town! They helped us hide our bikes in some shadows next to the building and we hopped in the car.

What angels. They were so nice and turned the heat up probably way hotter than they were comfortable with, but it was lovely. Josh encouraged us to keep the faith and told us about the struggles of Vermont to get back on its feet after Hurricane Irene brought floods in August. We arrived at the hotel with our spirits higher than they had been all day. The hotel concierges laughed when they saw us walk in. They thought we had been prank calling them. The Ways arrived shortly after and we all went to bed. Big mistake.

Its amazing how being cold all day can make you do things you’d never do otherwise. Like not think. When we got up at 8:30 AM (oops), we went to eat a nice breakfast in the hotel (french toast and crisp bacon). At 9:30 we thought about our dirty, smelly, wet clothes. No prob. We can just throw them in the washer upstairs. It was full. Time to panic. We had 60 miles left and who knows how much sunshine. We rushed to a laundromat. $10 for one load of laundry? Crazy! We went to another one down the street and threw them in. I stayed there to switch them out, and Troves and Joel went back to gather our things and check out. Troves was dropped off at Dick’s Sporting Goods to scout out some rain gear before we left. They picked me and the dry clothes up and headed to Dick’s, where we prepared to meet the worst weather possible. Waterproof pants, jackets, gloves were ours. If only they made waterproof socks…

When we finally made it back to our bikes at the pizza place it’s 2 PM. We threw on our gear and I changed my flat. We left at 3 PM. Hm…sounds familiar…Thanks again to our awesome support crew! Sorry we’re so much trouble…

There was sunshine at the bottom of the Green Mountains of VT but as we began climbing…they should have called them the Misty Mountains. But this time we were prepared! We knocked out 35 miles in no time and stopped to eat some Clif bars. At 5:30 we had 25 miles left and only 1 hour of sunlight. Time to push it!

We went as far as we dared. Our road was winding, busy, and unsholdered. Darkness and mist fell thick in the mountains that night. Troves and I decided that God wanted us to use our brains and get off the dangerous roads, but we still wanted to get in some more miles. Joel found some back roads for us to try, but they led to a closed road back at our busy highway. We crossed over Quechee Gorge and stopped to look at directions. As I stood gazing into the inky void, listening to the water rush below us, a voice called out from across the street. A park ranger, with ample knowledge of the unwashed away backroads, invited us into his shop to look at a map. Hooray! We got directions to White River Junction, VT (yes we were still in VT) about 7 miles up on empty roads.

We made it there safe, sound, hungry, and only a little wet. Abe and Eric met us with the car and Joel stashed our bikes in a clump of trees on a hill. (Our poor bikes.) We grabbed some Subway and headed to where we should have been 2 days ago.

Isn’t it funny that we were supposed to ride straight through VT but ended up spending so much time there? If everything had gone according to plan, we might not have talked to anyone in the state. And we still wouldn’t have rain gear. We wouldn’t know how to keep the faith as well as we do now. We wouldn’t be able to tell people, “well, it isn’t all fun and games” with a straight face. I wouldn’t have experienced that rallying determination that people get when they know they’re headed straight for disaster and danger and, instead of giving up, grit their teeth with a grin on their lips and gravity in their eyes.

With everyone reunited, it felt like we were finally home. A shower and a bed felt like heaven. All we had left to do to get back on track on Monday was get to our bikes and make it to Farmington, NH before dark. And we did.

In 2009 I rode the Texas 4000 for Cancer and it helped me think of & do the h2o ride. Here’s a post I’ve just written on the Texas 4000 blog:

Two years ago I got to Anchorage on a bicycle. My team and I gave it our all for 70 days to get there.

Yesterday one of my biggest role models passed away because of cancer. Steve Jobs changed the world in many ways, and there’s a great reason for that. From the Macintosh to Toy Story to the iPhone, he is famous around the globe because he ‘gave his all’ to every project he took on.

Today news sources report that Steve fought his cancer “with an awesome intensity” from the start.

Today I’m still pedaling, and his life & death give me even more inspiration for my current project:

The h2o Ride

Living with an awesome intensity means not being lazy or normal or giving up. It is the challenge we all face. By the end of my life I hope I have managed to inspire others to live for more than themselves. And here is the question I am faced with:

How much of myself am I giving?

How much are you giving?

[this post can also be found the Texas 4000 blog]

The church we stayed at in Gold Bar was so great. They made us an awesome enchilada dinner and provided a wonderful breakfast.

The pastor got his church involved with our mission by challenging the VBS kids to raise money for us. If they raised $100 he would get a pie in the face. If they raised $200 he would dye his hair blue. (A week later we heard his hair was blue that Sunday!)

Our ride from Gold Bar to Wenatchee included a beautiful climb through Steven’s Pass.

A chilly, foggy morning turned into a sunny afternoon as we descended the other side of the mountains.

As Troves and Joel entered Wenatchee a man stopped them on the roadside and invited the team over to his house for swimming and showers. He said he stopped because he saw the cross on their jerseys. Awesome! So, while some cooked and ate a pasta dinner at FUMC, Joel, Troves, and I headed to Jim’s house. We met his family, got clean, and watched one of his daughters open birthday gifts before they headed to her favorite restaurant for dinner. Yes, they left for dinner while we were finishing up showers. “Eat whatever you find in the fridge,” they said as they walked out the door. I love the kindness of strangers and the simple generosity and trust between brothers and sisters of Christ. What a blessing!

After this encouraging interaction we headed back to the church to eat our fill of pasta, do laundry, and go to bed.

We awoke to the smell of bacon and coffee wafting through the house. That was about the only thing that was going to get me outta the comfy bed I slept in. We broke our fast in the grandest fashion: belgian waffles, bacon, eggs, fresh fruit, coffee, juice, hot tea filled our bellies.

Our hosts, The Uttis, were so nice, their house so beautiful and breakfast so delightful that we didn’t want to leave. But leave we must.

Our destination for the day was Portland, only 40 miles away! The guys sent the support crew + 1 on their way, deciding they could do without a rest stop. (This was to be my fourth day off the bike.) We sped off to Mosaic, with whom we had made arrangements the previous day. We were grateful to find a host in Portland at the last minute and thankful they had a parking lot! After parking the RV (an ordeal I skipped out on by playing Wizard of Oz with Dorothy — I mean Audrey), we got coffee and walked around a cool part of town for a bit.

The guys arrived a little later with news that Joel had had a scary crash. Going about 30 mph downhill, he pointed out a roadkill raccoon in the shoulder. Doing so in his super-tuck made him lose balance and swerve off the road. He and his bike flipped over each other a few times and landed in some soft shrubbery on the side of the road.

The two of them rode away with hardly a scratch! Abe, who was behind him, said it seemed like Joel should have been hurt pretty bad. Thank God for his protection!

After getting situated at the church everyone split up to pursue various activities. Joel and I had our minds set on getting some good food as soon as possible. We walked a few blocks to Killer Burger to accomplish our mission.

Later that day, Abe’s wife, Kate, joined us! She filled the back seat of the support vehicle with me until Seattle. It was really fun having her with us, and I can see why Abe likes her so much!

I went to bed that night planning on riding out of Portland with the guys (which ended up being a bad plan). I had no idea that it was going to take almost another 2 weeks before my knee would let me start easing back into cycling. A blog post about humility, pain, and innovative ways to entertain a three-year-old is soon to come.