Born and bred on the edge of the hill country inevitably led to me being exposed to the outdoors. From family outings to youth group campouts there was no shortage of time spent in nature. Since then I have always felt an affinity towards adventure. As a junior at Texas State Univ I have spent several semesters figuring out what to do with the rest of my life. The answer came to me when I began working in a medical clinic and started helping people. The gratitude that someone shows when their lives have been changed or their quality of life has risen to new heights is amazing to me! It is such a raw emotion. Nurses and doctors had told me about it in the past and said that is why they love their jobs, but until I experienced it I had no concept! If I ever work in a career that doesn't contain that element of life, then I find no reason to be.

In October of 2004, I was riding bikes with a good friend of mine, the one that I credit with the honor of getting me into cycling. But on that particular day it wasn't cycling that was the subject of discussion...it was cancer. A few days prior I recieved a call from my best friend. The words were short, but the message was clear. "He's dead!" His father had just passed away from lung cancer. "What do I do?", I thought. The feeling of helplessness that comes over you is almost insurmountable, but you must carry on. I had heard rumor of this group of cyclists riding to Alaska and I knew that some day I had to be a part of this. Fast-forward to July of 2005. Again, I was biking with that same friend, and again, the topic was on cancer. But, the only difference is that he was the one suffering its effects. This was one of the last rides I would have with him before he went into treatment. The words were frank and the discussion was deep. When I asked him what I could do for him, his reply was simple, "Be there. Support me." Since then, he has suffered through chemo and radiation and is just now getting back on his feet and back on his bike. When he learned of me wanting to ride with the Tx4000 and helping cancer sufferers along the way, his words were simple yet again..."Be there. Support them." I ride in support of those who have suffered greatly and in honor of those who suffer no more.

Aunt Lessie.

Grandma Lane.

Mrs. Bailey.

Don Ryder.

Doc Seebeck.

June Seebeck.

Nonnie Dart.