This Ride's For Kiley

 This Ride’s for Kiley

When I first heard about the “Blue Ridge 500” I had no idea I would become a participant.  Organizers of the event are members of the BMW Motorcycle Riders of Georgia (BMWOGA), a club devoted to the safe enjoyment of BMW motorcycles. Yep, BMW does make motorcycles!  I bought my first motorcycle in February of this year and I had to ask a friend to ride it home from the north side of town because I hadn’t yet learned to ride.  Although I put on quite a few miles riding motorcycles this summer, I didn’t believe I had enough experience to participate in the Blue Ride 500 but I wanted to help with organizing and support of the event because I felt its charitable aspects are important.

The Blue Ridge 500 is a self-guided tour along almost 500 miles of the most beautiful mountain roads in North Georgia and Western North Carolina.  There are rules designed to ensure the safe operation of the motorcycles, and timing constraints to test the skills of the riders.  The object is to proceed over a pre-determined course within pre-set time limits.  Riding between checkpoints too fast or too slow results in a loss of points for the participant, getting a speeding ticket (or other infraction) causes a serious point loss, and there are other restrictions.  Awards are given for First, Second, and Third place to riders with the highest point scores.

Along with the riding skills contest, each rider receives a playing card at each of the five checkpoints, and the rider with the best poker hand from these five cards is the winner of that contest.  There is also a prize for the worst poker hand accumulated.

In addition to the enjoyable touring and sightseeing aspects of the Blue Ridge 500, its main purpose is to raise money for the Pediatric Brain Tumor Foundation of the United States (PBTFUS), which funds important life-saving medical research.  Each participant is encouraged to collect contributions to the PBTFUS from his/her friends and relatives, with an award given to the riders who gather the most money.  A minimum $100 contribution is required from each participant.

As the motorcycle riding season this summer wore on, friends in the club urged me to participate in the Blue Ridge 500 instead of just helping with the organizing.  Finally, I decided that riding 500 miles on curvy mountain roads would be challenging but very rewarding, and I made up my mind to give it a try.

As I started talking to friends about my decision to ride in the event, one of the first ones told me about her young niece who had recently been diagnosed with a brain tumor. The story of a child with a deadly brain tumor was heart-wrenching and committed me to the idea that I would not only ride and finish the event but that I would walk away with the award for raising the most money for the PBTFUS.

There are a lot of worthwhile charities out there, and it seems like all of us get hit for donations every time we turn around.  I was really touched by the story of my friend’s niece, and when I found out some more about the wonderful, life-saving work being funded by the PBTFUS I decided not be shy in asking my friends to help me do something significant in this case.  I said to them, “Look, I’ve put up $100 of my own money for this thing and I want you to match that amount.”  A lot of them did, and many others gave what they could.

I made my plea in the form of a polite request to friends, and in the form of a demand to relatives.  “This is important,” I said to my brother in Fayetteville, “and I want a check in the mail today.  We’ll talk about what it’s for and whether you want to give more after I get that check, so just shut up and start writing.”

Soon I realized that I had a significant amount of money in the form of checks stacked neatly in my desk drawer.  As I walked up to the registration desk on the day of the event, my chest swelled as I saw the smiles on the faces of the organizers when I handed over the envelope that contained $2,445.00 in contributions to the PBTFUS.  I knew that if I could finish the ride (500 miles of mountain roads in one day is not a cakewalk) I would take home the plaque for the highest fundraiser.  I would have done what I came to do and made a mark for myself among my motorcycle buddies.  The money would go to research either way, but I had to finish the event to get the plaque and I had an ace in the hole to ensure that.

My friend’s little niece with the brain tumor is named Kiley.  I dedicated my ride that day to Kiley, and I had a sign painter put that on the windshield of my bike…….  This Ride’s For Kiley, it said.  Lots of folks asked me about that lettering on my bike and I was able to tell them about children with brain tumors and the terror that strikes in the hearts of parents and loved ones.  Kiley’s ride left Norcross, GA with me aboard in the pre-dawn darkness of October 4, 1997.  As the sun set that day on Alpharetta, GA I pulled safely in to the finish line of the event with Kiley’s spirit firmly planted on my shoulder where it had been all day.  We finished and we won!

But the warm feelings of knowing that you’ve done something good for someone weren’t over that day by a long shot.

First off, my motorcycle club buddies presented me with the biggest piece of raw meat I’ve seen in a while.  We had an informal awards ceremony at the end of the event, where attendees cook their own steak on the grill.  My large steak was in recognition that, despite being such a novice, I had finished the grueling event holding up the honor of our club by doing so and for raising so much money.  Someone had written on the steak’s wrapper “Big dogs get big steaks”

As the awards ceremony progressed, we heard from a woman whose daughter had survived after she was found to have a brain tumor.  Her story was, at the same time sad and joyous.  We could feel her terror as she remembered the Doctor’s words first informing her of the terrible problem and the fact that, at that time, there wasn’t much hope.  We heard the joy in her voice as she told how advances in medical science (some of which were funded by the PBTFUS) had saved her daughter.  Her daughter was there with a friend; another little girl who had survived this disease.  Seeing those little girls giggling (like little girls are supposed to) and eating too many cookies (like all kids are supposed to at picnics) made me forget every sore muscle I had accumulated that day.

But I hadn’t received all my rewards just yet.

By being careful on my ride, I had to plod along at a pace considered by some to be slow, but one which I considered comfortable for me and Kiley’s spirit riding on my shoulder.  Evidently, this method is the one employed by the judges to score perfect times for each of the legs of the trip, because I came in second in the rider skills competition for the day.  That was rewarding, having so recently entered the sport.

The crown jewel of the day for me, however, came next. I was called up to receive my award for the top fundraiser in the event.  Presenting the award was Mike Traynor, President of the PBTFUS and with him were Mandy and Julia, who are the two little girls who giggled and ate too many cookies earlier in the evening.  I got a nice gold-colored plaque to hang on my office wall for raising the most money in the event, but I also got a hug from those two little girls.  The plaque will gather dust and take its place among the other things I look at once in a while, but those hugs from those two little girls will warm my heart every time I see a kid playing in the park or look into the eyes of a mother.

I won a lot of prizes that day, but the hugs of those two little girls and the thought of Kiley riding with me through the mountains that day are among my most prized possessions.

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PS: Thie ride took place in October 1998 and I wrote this article shortly thereafter.