Day 17, September 26:
Events:98 km ride from Lower Sackville to Peggy’s Cove to Halifax. Visit to IWK Children’s Centre. Dip of the wheels in the Atlantic. A final celebration – of many things.
Thoughts and Highlights of the Day: There are so many. The SwissAir Memorial, Mario giving it all, sharing some riding time with Team 2, seeing the kids at IWK, dipping the wheels, celebrating our accomplishment and an engagement, and already missing everybody before they are gone.
I awoke groggy, having slept about 3 hours in total. I was wired through the night – a combination of seeing France, Rina’s surprise arrival for Drew, the prospect of the final day of SNKCR. I spent the time between 1 and 3 AM writing my blog on my phone, while lying wide awake in bed. There is so much to say, and so little time left with this platform.
Again the day started cool but promised to be beautiful with the morning star highlighting a clear sky, with the sun soon to follow. Through the grogginess, I pulled on my kit, headed for the facilities and did my stretching. This gave me the time and space to wake up and prepare mentally and physically for the day. Though it is not a long day, there is much climbing, a much bigger group, and many ride along riders. As well, the day promised many emotional moments.
I went through my normal morning ritual of clothing preparations, breakfast, preparing my bike and water bottles, and the many hugs that start the day. I was ready to go.
Our dedication circle was much bigger than normal with the two groups, all the volunteers, the ride alongs and the visitors. I spotted Frances across the way, not having seen her come in among the many people, and elbowed my way in beside her. It was one moment I wanted to share with her, a dedication for a child afflicted by cancer, which is why we all are riding and doing all the other things that we do in honour of Alex. Hannah was the subject of the dedication by Bruce. They were doctor and patient but, because of Bruce’s work and Hannah’s will and, frankly, the gods and odds being on their side, they have become compatriots on this ride and on the journey towards our Destination Beyond Cancer. Hannah has grown to be a passionate advocate and eloquent spokesperson. She is like my little sister but she has grown up and I’m proud of everything she has done on this ride. Bruce is doctor, cyclist, advocate, leader. He helps people, simply, in whatever he does. I have come to regard him as a good friend.
The ride begins and soon the challenges of a group of this size present themselves. There is a big discrepancy in the riders and keep everyone organized and safe on this final day is going to be difficult. But we have strength in the front and in the back, and we manage to organize the middle.
We gradually made our way 50 km or so down to St. Margaret’s Bay, catching glimpses of the inland lakes and then the ocean inlets as we went. The sun rose and the temperatures warmed a bit. The wind from the north was friendly at our back as we made our way mostly south, up and down hills, many of which were short and steep (and some longer and steep). Again, the usual suspects Mario and Bruce were helping people up the hills and I took a few turns myself.
When we arrived at the Swiss Air memorial, Mario was beaten, with a white face and tears streaming down. It was the first time he had hit the wall, and he later told me that the combination of physical effort and the emotional strain of seeing all the kids videos last night had hit him. I could do nothing but hug him and tell him that it was now our time to get him home. I have nothing but admiration for this man, who has given his all to make sure that everyone made it through the ride. It is what we all hope to do on this ride, in one way or another: help people make it through.
The Swiss Air memorial is a simple, stark and beautiful place. It sits in a broad landscape of low lying bushes, punctuated with weather worn boulders and granite outcroppings, all looking over the sea which can be placid and beautiful as it was today, or angry and dangerous. I have seen it in both conditions and both serve as a metaphor for the tragedy of Swiss Air, and also for me the journey that I am on. I have seen, since Alex’s death, rough seas but I feel that they have calmed for me. And still there is beauty in the landscape if one appreciates it.
We left for Peggy’s Cove, a short hike down the road. Once there, we took many pictures with the iconic lighthouse. The most poignant for me though, were those with Frances and Alex’s dedication board, and with Drew, Rina and Josh’s board, and with Gordon and James’ board. We are all parents who have gone through the struggles of childhood cancer. We’re mostly standing, sometimes staggering, but all have a will to make a change.
Again, we mounted our bikes and headed towards Halifax. Except that now we were headed north, into the teeth of the wind and up the significant climbs of the day. No, Halifax is not flat anywhere. It rises or falls at all times, and the ride back to Halifax was mostly uphill. The hills came up quickly and steeply, and the group would go from a quick pace to a snail’s pace in a moment, making the climbs more work than we hoped from, often, a near-standing start.
But we pushed on and eventually made our way to the Halifax Shopping Centre, with the National Riders leading the way in to a tremendous reception. We had lunch and some people spoke, and then we were off again to IWK, some 5 km further.
IWK – named in honour of Izaak Walton Killam – provides pediatric and obstetric care for Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, and Prince Edward Island. Throughout these provinces we encountered people who had been treated by Bruce. Unfortunately, many of those from a distance away must move to Halifax for treatment with all of the attendant expenses and family disruption that this entails. This kind of impact extends far beyond the child with cancer, making his or her siblings, parents, friends and family victims of cancer as well.
We rode into the hospital grounds to a rousing welcome and many families of children in treatment or having completed it were there with us. I met several of the kids including one with osteosarcoma and another with Ewing’s sarcoma. It was unusual but perhaps meant to be, and I sought both families out to try to offer my encouragement and best wishes. I was able to get another autograph from Jack for my jersey. It is not easy to visit these places, smell the smells, and see the sights that are all too familiar. But I want to get past the bad feelings because these are places where good work takes place and great people giving their all reside. I want to be with them.
Then it was time to go, for our final 2 km ride to Point Pleasant Park, where the Atlantic bookend of our journey awaited. There was a call for the survivors and parents of children afflicted with cancer to lead the way. I didn’t feel right with this and Mike Leiter gave me the reason I needed to back out when he chose to ride in the group with his team. As I like to do, I went to the back and Ken joined me. Every National Rider was there for good reasons and each put their heart and soul into the journey, so I felt comfortable not being front and centre. As I reflect now, Alex would have wanted to sit in the back too, away from the limelight. He was certainly sitting back there with Ken and me.
As we arrived, I did not feel any waves of emotion. I felt satisfied and happy that we had completed this journey safely, making friends into brothers and sisters along the way, and collecting many fantastic experiences. But this was not the end for me, it is only another step along the path, which leads I know not where.
That said, I had wide smiles and shared many hugs, most importantly with my best friend Frances. We all raised a glass to toast the journey, then made our way to the water to dip our wheels and take our triumphant pictures.
There was one more surprise before we left the park, as a young lady came up to me just before we left and said “Are you Len Pace?” After nearly three weeks of arriving to hero’s welcomes everywhere we went, this felt almost normal – an expectation that I will have to get over quickly back in the real world. She said, “I’m Amelia”, and she is the niece of my brother-in-law Richard, who battled and survived ALL, a form of leukemia. It was such a fantastic surprise to see this healthy young lady, starting her university career at Dalhousie, and ready to experience the world. It was a great ending to my journey, an affirmation that kids are surviving and thriving. That is our goal for each one of these children who have childhood cancer, until the time when perhaps they may not develop it at all: a Destination Beyond Cancer.
The celebrations continued later, at the hotel. People we did not recognize arrived, until we pictured them in spandex or sweats, and less attractive hair. And then we recognized them as people we had ridden with for 17 days. Our leaders spoke, first Trevor, then Ken, Jeff Rushton, and Mike Smith. And finally, Les came to the podium to speak about how he had met our teammate Shelley on the bike, fallen for her, and brought her into his family of four children. And he called her up and proposed to her in front of all of us, her parents and Les’ kids and Shelley’s SNKCR family all there to give our blessing. It was fantastic.
Reflections: Our journey continues despite the fact that the road ends here in Halifax. Many will be back in some way or another and many will continue the journey in other ways. There is much work to be done. Perhaps you’d like to join us?
Team 1: Lower Sackville to Halifax - Distance 100 km, Total 2,694 km, Climb 1,089 m, Total 13,846 m http://ridewithgps.com/routes/1652086
Team 2: Lower Sackville to Halifax - Distance 100 km, Total 3,523 km, Climb 1,089 m, Total 21,821 m http://ridewithgps.com/routes/1652086