Derek Scott

Ride for Dad 2022 will be an experience I will never forget. I have wanted to do it for quite some time now, but there was always a reason not to. The weather wasn’t nice, I was working, then COVID. This year I decided no matter what, I was going, and my son was excited to go with me.

I Ride for my dad, who had prostate cancer. It was caught early, and he has been in remission now for 7 years. Though he may not admit it, it was a difficult time, full of lots of uncertainties. It had to be tough on him, because it was tough on all of us. We fought it as a family, taking turns taking him to appointments and radiation treatments. They say it takes a village, and that’s no lie. That’s why I wanted to do this ride, as a way to honor him and everyone else who has had to deal with this in one way or another.

This was my first big group ride, and I was nervous. I had only done one group ride in my life of about 200 two weeks prior. This dwarfed that and my anxiety was through the roof. What if I did something wrong? What if I embarrassed myself or even worse crashed into someone? No, push through, you can do this, you must do this. Be strong, like dad was. Ok, I’ll hang near the back, it’s safer there. That was the plan.

Saturday morning, I wake my son, get ready, and off on our way we go. All I really know is that we were supposed to meet somewhere by Earls at Polo park. Great, we’ll get close and then hang towards the back, where it’s safe. As we enter the parking lot, looking for signs of where to go and what to do, the wonderful staff start directing us. Go that way, ok. He’s waving for us to turn here, ok. Follow that guy, ok. Oh no! This isn’t where I wanted to be. I’m in the middle of the pack. Front of a line. There’s no hiding, there’s no laying back and watching to figure this all out. You got this. Stop over thinking things. Be strong, like dad was.

Distractions, that’s what I need. Don’t let the boy see your nervous. Oh look, free food! Coffee, yes please! Sign the wall. Register. Buy some merch. Look at all the bikes, and discuss with my son about which ones he likes and what he wants for his first. Find some amazing people to talk to. Strangers are just a friend you haven’t met yet. Distractions, oh how I love you.

The announcements start. Oh my, this is happening. There’s no way out, your doing this. Be strong, like dad. So many people, so many bikes. We’re always away from the stage. What did that officer say we were supposed to do? Something about once you go, something about lanes, I can’t make it out clearly enough. Start your bike after the 5 loud bangs, ok heard that one. Anxiety rising. Breathe, this is supposed to be fun. You got this. Be strong, like dad was.

Bang. That’s one. Bang, that’s two. Bang. Bang. Ok, one more and it’s go time. Oh, please start. I don’t want to be left sitting here as hundreds of people have to go around me. It always starts, but if it ever was to not, this would be the time. Bang. The sound of all the bikes starting is deafening. Ok, you got this. Be strong, like dad was.

Go time. Hundreds and hundreds of bikes are behind you, don’t screw this up. Four rows of bikes at a time. It’s getting close to my row. Quick count. Oh thank heavens, I can follow the person beside me. Anxiety releasing. 1,2,3,4 go. 1,2,3,4 go. We’re next. 1,2,3,4? Wait I’m four! Oh no, I missed seeing that row of bikes. I’m 1, not the safe 4 I had all worked out in my head. Anxiety rising. Be calm, you got this. Again, the wonderful staff lay out the plan quickly. Wide turn onto Portage. Second lane from the median. Go when he says go. Oh, please don’t stall, don’t screw up, don’t embarass yourself or your son. You got this. Be strong, like dad was. Go time.

Lead the line. Wide turn. Second lane from the median. Off we go, didn’t stall, so far so good. Wide turn, good. Second lane from the median, good. Haven’t crashed or screwed up yet, good. Relax. Oh wow, look at all the people waving. We’re not all jammed up fender to fender, good. Wow there’s people everywhere waving. Nice and slow, good right? Oh no, what if the bike overheats? Relax. Look, that woman’s sign says “Thank you”. Thank me? For what? What did I do? Remember why your here. It takes a village, like it did for dad.

This is fun! Look at all the people that came out just to watch some motorcycles drive down the road. Honk the horn, wave to the kids. So far so good. Haven’t crashed, check. Haven’t screwed up yet that i know of, check. Relaxing, anxiety fading away to nothing. Whoosh! What was that? Cop car. They must be going ahead to block intersections. Ok, watch the line. Don’t cross it. Don’t be that guy who gets hit by a cop car during this. That’s not how you want to be remembered. Relax, you got this. Wave to the kids. Honk the horn. Have fun. Do it for dad.

Look at those flags! Wait there on both sides of the road. That’s the legion. They’re honoring us. I have never been to war, and make no assumptions about what it is like. But I have been in a battle. I have been scared of losing a father. I have friends that have not been as lucky as we were. Why am I crying? This is supposed to be fun. Thankfully no one can see me, full face helmet. Hope it stops before we get to the end. You no what? Who cares. Cry. Feel. Remember those that didn’t make it. Breathe. Be strong, like dad.

Into the Downs parking lot. Follow the staff. Park. Eyes dry? Yep, safe to take the helmet off. Wow. Didn’t expect all that. Need to catch my breath. Relax. From here on out it’s open highways. Familiar, comfortable. Walk around, look at bikes again, talk to more people. Hit the highway. Open roads. Who are those people on bikes? Doesn’t matter. Today we all ride together, for dad. We’re a village, for dad. Why are we being strong? For dad. Why will I do it again next year? For dad.