Weekend on Two Wheels: Volunteering at Ian’s Ride: Sea to Sound

Some cycling weekends are about how many miles you can put on your bike. Others are about the people you meet along the way.

My weekend turned out to be very much about the people.

After having lunch at the senior center, I headed for the Olympic Peninsula, where I was going to spend the weekend volunteering at Ian’s Ride: Sea to Sound. I was looking forward to being part of an event I’d heard so much about, but I had no idea just how much fun I was going to have.

A Change of Plans

Getting across the water was surprisingly easy. I pulled onto the ferry and, amazingly, was on board within five minutes. I quickly made my way across the Peninsula toward an area between Sequim and Port Angeles, where I was supposed to stay at a bee farm.

There was just one little problem.

When I arrived, the gate was locked.

I couldn’t figure out how to get in, and since I was going to be the only person staying there, I wasn’t quite sure what I was supposed to do. To make matters worse, the event director wasn’t answering my messages.

Eventually I learned why: she was in a dead zone.

So I did what any resourceful cyclist would do—I contacted someone else.

I texted Ben Truelove, who I knew was volunteering for the event, and asked where he and the others were staying. He told me they were staying at a new house they had purchased. It was completely unfurnished because renters were moving in within a few days, so they were planning to sleep on air mattresses on the floor.

I asked if I could join them.

Of course, Ben said yes.

He gave me the garage door code, and I made my way over. I found a small bedroom for myself while Ben and Brenda had claimed the master bedroom. It wasn’t exactly the Ritz-Carlton, but it worked perfectly—and honestly, it was part of the adventure.

That evening, everyone involved with the day’s riding gathered at a local winery for dinner. Lasagna and salad were on the menu, and while we waited for everyone to arrive, I had the chance to meet some of the riders and volunteers.

That’s when I really began to appreciate what made Ian’s Ride different.

There was an incredible variety of mobility equipment represented. Some participants were using electric wheelchairs. Others had wheelchairs adapted with motors specifically to help them participate in the ride. There were electric bikes and other adaptive equipment as well.

Most of the participants had some type of mobility challenge, but they were all there for the same reason: to ride, participate, have fun, and be part of the cycling community.

A couple of my friends were also riding along as support riders, helping make sure everyone stayed safe.

It was a pretty great way to start the weekend.

A Morning Ride Before Volunteering

The next morning, I didn’t have to be at my first rest stop until 10 a.m., so I had a little time to myself.

Since the starting point for the riders was at Elwha, I decided to ride a section of the Olympic Discovery Trail that I hadn’t ridden before.

I headed out from near Ben and Brenda’s house and rode to Elwha and back. The riders weren’t quite ready to start when I got there and were running behind schedule—which, I was told, wasn’t unusual.

No problem.

I got in a nice morning ride, explored a new section of trail, and then headed back to my first rest stop.

When I returned, two other women were just beginning to set everything up. Technically, three people probably weren’t necessary for the rest stop, but I was happy to help.

And once the riders started arriving, I found plenty to do.

Sometimes something as simple as pouring a cup of coffee can make a difference. Some of the riders in motorized wheelchairs had difficulty reaching things from their chairs, so I helped get coffee and other items for them. I took pictures, encouraged riders as they came through, and generally tried to make sure everyone felt welcome.

And I was having a blast.

Meet Rocky

Once the riders moved on, I had to get to my next assignment, Rest Stop #3.

Because the morning schedule had run late, I had barely enough time to get there—and I was riding my bike.

That turned out to be a good thing because I got to ride alongside some of the participants.

At one point, I noticed a little boy riding ahead of his mom by quite a distance. His name was Rocky, and I ended up riding along with him for a while.

We had a great conversation, and I kept an eye on him as we traveled down the trail. When other riders or people approached from the opposite direction, I helped remind him to move over and stay aware of what was happening around him.

Rocky was a sweet kid, and I really enjoyed our little ride together.

Of course, there was one downside.

Talking to Rocky slowed me down a little more than I would have liked when I was trying to make it to my next assignment on time!

But some things are more important than being on schedule.

Rest Stop Number Two… I Mean Three

When I finally arrived at my next rest stop, the other volunteers weren’t there yet.

For a moment I thought, Okay… now what?

But I could see that someone had already dropped off a table, some snacks, and a banner flag. So I went ahead and got to work.

I put up the flag, set up the table, and got everything ready so that when the other two women arrived, we could jump right in.

About half an hour later, they arrived.

Then we had another half-hour or so before the riders started coming through.

And again, “riders” doesn’t really tell the whole story. We had cyclists, electric bikes, motorized wheelchairs, scooters, and other adaptive mobility equipment coming through.

The wind had also picked up considerably, so one of my primary responsibilities became helping keep our little pop-up setup from blowing away!

I took more pictures, encouraged riders, helped wherever I could, and eventually my work for the day was finished.

Two Hills Between Me and Dinner

There was just one problem.

I had to ride all the way back to Ben and Brenda’s.

The trail included two big hills, and after a full day of volunteering, they were not exactly what I wanted to see.

They were tough.

Really tough.

But I got up both of them.

By the time I made it back, I was tired and ready to call it a day. But instead of settling in for the evening, I changed clothes and headed back out—this time in my car.

I had a very good reason for driving.

I didn’t want to ride that trail back in the dark!

Costumes, Wigs and a Whole Lot of Fun

Back at the finish, there was a barbecue getting ready to start. Riders were beginning to come in, and everyone was gathering for food and some well-deserved relaxation.

While people were waiting in line for dinner, there was a fun zone filled with costumes, hats, glasses, wigs and all sorts of ridiculous accessories.

Naturally, I had to get involved.

I started convincing people to let me dress them up and take their pictures.

And I had an absolute blast.

One of my friends had told me that I was the perfect person for that job because I talk to everybody and apparently have absolutely no inhibitions.

I think they may have been right.

By the end of the evening, I was already thinking that maybe I had found my volunteering specialty for next year.

Forget the rest stops.

Give me the costumes!

The Wheelchair Rodeo

After dinner came one of the highlights of the entire weekend: the wheelchair rodeo.

It was SO much fun.

There were several different events. One involved individual timed runs. Participants would race to a designated point, ring a bell, turn around, and race back.

There were separate categories for different types of wheelchairs and mobility equipment, including manual wheelchairs and motorized wheelchairs and scooters.

Then there were head-to-head races, with two participants competing against each other until a final winner emerged.

And there was even a version of barrel racing.

Watching everyone compete, cheer each other on, and have such a good time was fantastic.

It wasn’t just about competition. It was about participation, laughter, cheering, and showing what people can do when they have the opportunity and the right equipment.

And that, to me, really captured the spirit of Ian’s Ride.

Heading Home

After everything wrapped up, I headed back to Ben and Brenda’s.

They were planning to visit Brenda’s mom for a while, but by the time they got back, I was already asleep.

Since there wasn’t really a need for a third volunteer at the aid stations the next day, I decided to get up Sunday morning and head home.

And honestly, I was pretty tired.

But I was also smiling.

Ian’s Ride: Sea to Sound wasn’t the kind of cycling event where I could tell you how many miles I rode or how fast I went. Instead, I spent the weekend handing out coffee, taking pictures, encouraging riders, keeping tents from blowing away, helping a kid named Rocky stay safe on the trail, dressing people in ridiculous costumes, and cheering during a wheelchair rodeo.

And I loved every minute of it.

What struck me most was how much the event was about inclusion. Cycling doesn’t have to look one particular way. It doesn’t have to involve two wheels, drop handlebars, or a certain number of miles.

Sometimes cycling means an electric wheelchair.

Sometimes it means an adapted bike.

Sometimes it means a support rider making sure someone gets safely down the trail.

And sometimes it means a retired cyclist with a camera, a willingness to talk to absolutely everybody, and apparently zero inhibitions when it comes to putting strangers in wigs and funny glasses.

I came to the Peninsula to volunteer.

I left feeling like I had become part of something.

And if Ian’s Ride needs someone in charge of the costume and photo booth next year, I have a feeling they may have already found their person. 😄

Ian’s Ride: Sea to Sound—I’ll definitely be back.

Epilogue: Putting Faces to the Names

The day after the event, as I was driving home, I listened to the audiobook version of the story about Ian’s Ride. The book tells Ian’s story, including how he was injured and became a quadriplegic, and how his journey led him to meet so many people and make so many friends along the way.

What made listening to it especially meaningful this time was that I had just spent the weekend surrounded by many of those people.

Throughout the audiobook, Ian talks about friends and people who have become part of his life, often mentioning them only by their first names. Before this weekend, those names were just names to me.

Now they had faces.

As each name came up in the story, I could instantly picture the person I had met at dinner, helped at a rest stop, photographed, or watched compete in the wheelchair rodeo. I found myself thinking, Oh, I know who that is!

It was such a cool feeling—and one I hadn’t expected.

In a way, the weekend gave me a whole new connection to Ian’s story. I wasn’t just listening to names anymore. I had memories attached to them.

I hope that’s one of the things I’ll carry with me from this weekend. Years from now, when I listen to the book again, I hope those names will still bring back the faces, the smiles, the conversations, the costumes, the laughter, and the people I met along the way.

Sometimes the best souvenirs from a bike ride aren’t medals, T-shirts, or miles logged on your bike computer.

Sometimes they’re people—and the memories you make with them.