Dan, a CD patient for over 28 years, rides his motorcycle the entire length of the ride, meeting cyclists at intersections to guide them safely through.
"I'm at a ninety-degree bend in a rural road. It's an overcast but pleasant day in the south Texas spring. Ahead – a tractor. To my right – some of the bold bicyclists of GYGIG Texas. All I have to do is wave my arms enough that the two don’t run into each other. Say, is that farmer picking up a cell phone? This is going to be harder than I thought.
I enjoy cycling, and when I heard of a bicycle ride to help fight IBD I wanted to be part of it. Although I'm not up to 210 miles in a weekend, I own a bike that goes on it's own by virtue of an 800 cc motor. So I volunteered to be one of the two traffic escorts on this ride.
Traveling is a bit complicated for somebody (like me) with an ostomy, making sure to have more than enough ostomy supplies, plus my medications. Now add camping supplies, and try to pack the whole mess onto a medium-sized motorcycle. I made about 10 attempts at packing before I felt I had everything loaded so it wouldn’t fall off as soon as I got on the highway.
Day one begins on the courthouse square in LaGrange, Texas. After finding my way to the start in the early morning darkness, I find that I'm not the only one cursing Congress for starting Daylight Savings Time early this year. The bicycles have to roll out at first light to finish the long miles by nightfall. Judy Pacitti, the president of GYGIG, gets to the microphone for our morning pep-talk, and admonishes us above all to be careful out there.
Along with my fellow motorcycle escort, Joe, the plan is that on each day, one of us will go to the first hazardous intersection and guide the riders across. The other motorcycle will go on ahead to the second point that needs traffic control. When all the bicyclists are past the first point, “Moto 1” will leapfrog past his fellow biker to a third intersection, and so on for as many traffic control spots as are needed that day. All weekend we’re both checking our maps for the nearest town, since the bikes can only go about 130 miles on a tank. We don’t want to run dry in the middle of a cow pasture.
During the ride, the support vans are supporting Joe and me as much as the cyclists. At one point, Judy's van stops and she asks me, "Do you have water? Rain gear? Sunscreen?" As usual, she's on top of everything. I have sunscreen, but I was so concerned about my face getting burned while riding that I forgot about the back of my neck baking when I was sitting still. During our three days on the road, we'll see lots of livestock, as well as local motorcyclists and bicyclists who like the same scenic winding roads the GYGIG staff found for us. A woman walking in a field by the road with her little son points at me, and bends down to the boy, teaching him the word, "motorcycle."
During the evenings in camp, we share stories of why we came and our experiences with IBD. We also feel very, very tired and grateful for a shower, hot or cold. In the mornings, we cuss Daylight Savings Time again as we try to break camp in the dark. We celebrate one participant's birthday at dinner – there's one on every ride.
Sunday afternoon, the ride is done. We all slap each other on the back and enjoy some legendary Texas barbeque, then we're off on our separate ways. My daughter and her friend have driven up from college in San Marcos to relieve me of some extraneous camping gear and eat something besides dorm food. Then, it's just me and the good old Texas two-lane blacktop on the ride back home to Fort Worth.
I first came down with Crohn's disease over 28 years ago. Back then, there were few medications, and the side effects were sometimes worse than the illness. I didn't have anything like a normal life until new treatmeants in recent years became available. Events like GYGIG helped raise the money that made those advances in treatment possible. You’ll see me at events to fight IBD until the day we find a cure."
Click here to donate to GYGIG now.
