More from Rich Dixon

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From last time…a space in the timeline.

Some time during 2010, after more than ten years cranking my handcycle thousands of miles around the streets and trails of Fort Collins, I told Becky about the dream.

“I think I’m supposed to do a cross-country handcycle ride.”

It was out-of-the-blue for her. For me, the dream arose from hours and miles, talking to Jesus as I cranked, seeking meaning and What’s Next? after retirement and Relentless Grace.

Of course, the dream was impossible. An old guy with my injury can’t do a cross-country ride. The logistics alone were insurmountable. I dismissed this silly notion for years, kept cranking and listening, but the dream wouldn’t go away. Finally, I said it out loud.

At first, I think Becky wondered if I was serious. Not much discussion ensued, so I kept cranking. And listening. After a few months, I repeated my announcement.

“I really think I’m supposed to do a cross-country handcycle ride.”

I had no clue what it meant, what it would look like, how we’d do it. Becky sought advice from our friend Dick Foth.

I think she secretly hoped Dick would discourage me. She wondered, rightfully, how we could possibly manage a quadriplegic cross-country bike ride.

Thankfully, Dick isn’t in the business of discouraging God-sized dreams. When we met a few days later he made one of those off-hand proclamations that changes the course of a life.

“If you simply do an epic bike ride, you’ll feel empty when you’re finished.

“Your ride isn’t about you, or about the ride. Your ride is an opportunity to share your story.”

So, we started planning RICH’S RIDE, a 1500-mile handcycle journey along the length of the Mississippi River.

Foth, and Jesus, shifted our focus from obstacles to opportunities.

To be continued…