Ron Mitchell

COAST TO COAST — DAY THREE REPORT

Day 3 of the 2003 Coast to Coast Against Cancer Ride starts not from the inside of the RV, but from the inside of a Best Western hotel room, with hot water, a shower and news on TV. There is even a high-speed Internet connection in the breakfast lounge. If it wasn’t so civilized, it would be civilized. Ron sends off yesterday’s summaries and collects a few other inspiring messages from friends and relatives. Hal readies the pick-up; Julie awakens from the back of her cab, where she prefers to spend the night.

Meeting in the small lounge, equally small talk is quickly dismissed and updates on the progress of the team overnight are covered and understood. The impact? They are ahead of schedule even more now. We recalibrate their arrival time and start getting ready for Round 2 of the support team shuffle.

Dan is The Man

Dan arrives, with, as usual a camera in hand. He has had a whole night to dream up new camera angles and shot compositions. He tries a few out on a young family with a four month-old baby girl. He is in the Navy and they are moving from Halifax to Victoria. We point out we’re doing the exact opposite. They buy a C2C t-shirt. Must be the excitement of being on TV. Dan then spots Crocodile Dundee, sitting having breakfast. Turns out he’s a farm equipment salesman in Australia, and represents a number of Canadian manufacturers, including one from Swift Current. He comes from 12,000 miles away and knows more about this place than we do. We’re ashamed. Dan does the interview anyway. After all this, we are heading down the hall to be in the parking lot for the riders’ arrival, when Dan casually mentions that he just found out that a documentary he produced has won an award at a conference in Niagara. He is excited, but seems to temper it, understanding the significance of this effort, supporting C2C.

The First Leg

At 8 AM and about 30 Km west of Swift Current, Hamish and Kevin take the first segment. The morning is still but there is promise of wind as the ground heats up quickly in the strong morning sun. Confidence soars. It’s going to be a great day, the third in a row. As they warm up, then rev up, they gain. Meanwhile the RV leaves them and heads toward Swift Current for the transition and showers. By the time they sail through town they are really moving and on a roll. Meanwhile, the team has made it to Swift Current. Freddy and Jamie take showers and a dip in the whirlpool. Jeff does a radio interview for the local radio station.

Does CN Rail know about C2C?

After all the people and food is sorted out, and the team hits the road, the entire C2C team is now together again on the road: the riders in the RV, Hal and Mitch in the pickup, and Julie and Lon in the Concord Trucking 18-wheeler. We got us a convoy! It’s an impressive sight. As we travel east on Trans Canada Highway, it parallels the CN tracks. It seems like every train we come across in Saskatchewan gives us a big wave and a friendly blast of the whistle. It’s true what they say about the friendly folks in Saskatchewan. Or maybe they heard the radio interview and are encouraging us on.

A Long Road to the Horizon

The road is stretching it legs as we work our way deep into central Saskatchewan. The riders are settled in, we can see forever the gently undulating ribbon of asphalt. It’s time for a dedication. Jane Knight lives in Quispamsiss, NB. She’s just had her first chemo treatment last Friday, June 13^th. Just as the riders contemplate the long road to the horizon, they know Jane is doing the very same thing.

A Flight to Calgary

Mitch has already had devastating news on this ride of the loss of his grandfather on Day 1 just as we started our Ride. But that was actually the second loss. Mitch’s best friend died suddenly several days earlier. Now Mitch was being driven to Regina by Hal Brown to catch a flight to Calgary to attend his friend’s funeral. He must go, but we also know that he must return to ride in honour of both.

"And that is who you are riding for, right now."

We read the dedications over the walkie-talkies to the riders near the beginning of each 4-hour stint, once they’ve been on the road for about 20 to 30 minutes. It gives them a chance to settle in, get their rhythm, forget about their sore muscles and just focus on their goal for the segment and most important, why they are doing this. We usually start by waiting for a quiet moment, no traffic, no distractions, no playing around. Just the riders now focused on their ride. We start by asking if they’d like to hear a dedication, then wait for the simple thumbs-up to indicate their readiness. It’s remarkable the variety of thumbs-up’s there are. When the riders are fresh and full of confidence about their task ahead, the T-U is firm and forceful, quick. When they are tired and digging deep for inspiration, it’s a low, off the hip, firm and long T-U. Sometimes, the response is in perfect harmony, one rider flashing a left arm, the other a right. And sometimes, when we’re taking too long to get things sorted out in the RV, the riders break the silence and ask for a dedication. The most special times are when the riders and crew are about to ask each other at the exact same moment. It happens more often than you’d think. This is teamwork at its best. It’s rewarding, in a way, to see the need to hear a dedication expressed in so many different ways. The reader is quick to understand the mood and integrate it into the reading of the dedication. While we read, the riders settle into a smooth rhythm. They seem to be leaning into their earpieces, listening harder, waiting for the inspiration that will most certainly come. As we look out the front of the RV somehow pacing our delivery with the steady churn of two or three pairs of legs, the whole team checks in to listen and feel the message in the dedication — hope, courage, love, loss, celebration — it runs the gamut. And they never know how it ends. Except for one thing. We always end the dedication with the phrase: "And that is who you are riding for, right now." A wave of thanks from the riders is the final signal before the riders and team are left with their thoughts… This simple wave is an acknowledgement of the profound alignment of this dedication and of the purpose of this Coast to Coast Ride Against Cancer.

Where Were You When C2C Helped Kids With Cancer?

Many of us have seen the Aurora Borealis at some point in our lives. Every sighting is significant and memorable. We can all describe the circumstances surrounding these events, much like everyone of a certain age can recall where they were when John Kennedy was shot or when Team Canada beat the Russians in ’72 — the events we understood to be important right away, but our own circumstance at the moment seemed entirely forgettable. And yet they never are. But this night and these Northern Lights are different. The moment they are spotted, the radios come alive with chatter, and excitement. There are lots of ooh’s and ah’s and two riders turn to each other and wrap arms over shoulders. It is an amazing moment as the magic light dances to a music we can’t hear, but certainly know must be there. It’s sending us a message and somehow, we understand it. And almost immediately, we also understand that our circumstances will be equally unforgettable. In fact, for the rest of our lives, we will recall the circumstances of our C2C Ride first and then, oh, by the way, we also saw the most amazing Northern Lights one night as well.

The Angels’ Halo

It’s the 8 PM to midnight shift and Hamish and Kevin have seen a lifetime’s worth of heavenly light shows. The Northern Lights danced and laughed, finally settling into a long curving band of light over our left shoulders that, like this Ride, reached from horizon to horizon, west to east. It reminded us of an angel’s halo, and it most certainly was… the light of a thousand souls who are tonight being remembered once again, fondly, by loving family and friends, prompted to think of these special people because of these riders pedaling through a dark night. These souls are alive again, and together they have decided to light the way for us all.

At the Border of a Day

It’s coming up to the end of a day, the midnight hour. As is the practiced process, with 15 minutes left on the ride, the riders begin their cool-down, easing the pace. The RV also speeds ahead for 6 minutes, then pulls over. If all is calculated properly, the completing riders arrive just as the fresh riders are ready to head out. This night presents a special confluence: the RV pulls to a stop directly at the Manitoba-Saskatchewan border. We look at our watches and know that Kevin and Hamish will arrive at the exact stroke of midnight. Sure enough, the headlamps at first just specks, then, growing brighter, arrive at the exact moment. They are jubilant at this border of time and place. They rush to the "Welcome to Manitoba" sign and smile for a camera. We all enjoy being on the border of a new day. We have new hope and confidence in the road ahead. Yet we also reflect on those who may be on very different borders tonight: those of anxiety and despair for a loved one or a lost one.

From the Heart

It’s the middle of the night, the darkest hour before the dawn. Two riders are out front quietly and persistently shortening the distance to Halifax. Dr. Pat is driving and the only person in the RV who is still awake. He knows the riders are in need of some inspiration. It’s time for a dedication. But he can’t find the file with the printed documents and pictures. He leans into the radio and tells the riders his predicament. But he already knows the solution. He delivers a touching and memorable dedication to his mother. From the heart.

End of Day Three

As the morning mists become more visible and the sky lightens, the riders ride on into Canada’s heartland, the southwest corner of Manitoba.