David Freeze

By David Freeze

   After my recent bike trip to Canada and Alaska, most conversations get around to that adventure pretty quick, especially if I had not seen the other person in several months. It won’t be long until I will hopefully have a steady schedule of speaking engagements to talk about the most recent trip. One of the most interesting things for me is how often the word fear comes up in questions. Why does this happen?

   A good many of my talks are done in churches. One of the first times, with my presentation done, I was taking questions. One lady said, “What kind of gun do you take along!” Even on the rides themselves, I get asked the same question by other cyclists. And this time, when crossing into Canada, the customs officer was adamant that I must have one.

     Having now cycled in 49 states, I can’t think of a single time that I was genuinely afraid. Even on the last trip, when I was told that a grizzly bear was running after me, I was not worried. When riding through some of the worst parts of the several big cities, I feel confident. In times of the worst traffic, low on water or food, with many miles to go before the next town, I know that I will be OK.

     On the very first day that I ever rode a bicycle on one of my long trips, I was waiting for my bike to be reassembled in Astoria, Oregon so that I could ride across the country. The bike shop owner told me two things. He said, “You’ll need a bike lock. It looks like you don’t have one.” He was right that I hadn’t even considered getting a bike lock. The owner showed me what he had and said I should get a thick cabled combination lock, one that weighed almost two pounds. I bought it, almost immediately dreading the fact that I did.

     Once the bike was ready, the owner wanted me to go try out the bike. He said, “Ride around a little bit and make sure you go up the hill.” I found Coxcomb Hill, the only one in this coastal town and 595 feet in elevation. I rode the bike up the hill, struggled mightily and stopped to rest once. I wondered if I could in fact make this ride because there were mountains in the Rockies on my route, one at almost 12,000 feet. Was I afraid to go on the ride because of the challenges ahead?

      On that first day in Astoria, after leaving the bike shop, I rode to my motel to load my gear on the bike. Remembering that I had struggled on the hill, I was now adding another 45 pounds to the weight that I had pedal up the rest of the hills.

     The biggest challenge of my life was about to begin. Should I be afraid to ride over 4,000 miles all alone? Should I be afraid enough to need a gun or a big and heavy lock? Did fear have a place? Should I let fear keep me from attempting this huge event?

     After loading the bike, already a couple hours later than I had planned to start riding, I sat down in the motel room and prayed. It was a special prayer whose words linger to this day. I said, “Lord, ride with me today!” Not a single day since, before mounting the bike, will I leave for the first pedal strokes of the ride without saying the same words. The most amazing peace rides with those words.

     I never bought a gun and I mailed the bike lock home, totally confident that I had all the protection I needed in those five words. Put together your own comforting words and don’t let fear limit you. Plan something that you’ve been afraid to do and go be fearless!

By David Freeze

   I have lived on a farm nearly all my life. Born into a small dairy farm family, I now own another small farm. One constant in all that time has been chainsawing trees. When I was small, I remember my dad using a chainsaw but I also remember him trying to cut down trees using a two man saw. If you haven’t seen one, the thing has two big wooden handles, giant teeth and preferably two men to pull it back and forth to eventually fell a tree. It doesn’t work as well with a grown man and a spindly kid.

    When I was in college and shortly after, I spent several years cutting trees to sell firewood for extra money. It was a lucrative side job and as you might have guessed, I loved the exercise involved. Sawing the tree down, cutting it into certain lengths, manually splitting the thicker pieces, and loading trucks for delivery had a certain manly appeal.

   On my farm now, occasionally trees fall and need to be cut up. I know of two along the creek that need attention now. A least a couple saws are usually ready to get some action. Almost never do I cut a tree that is healthy. Most of my experience has to do with trees that need to come down or have fallen on their own.

    Such was the case with one certain pecan tree on Millbridge Road this morning. The tree had outgrown its area and a portion of it was hanging over the owner’s house. She called and wanted me to take it down, so I went early last Sunday to check it out. Just a little touchy in spots on whether the falling tree would hit the house, I planned to use experience, a quality helper, a good saw, a tractor and a stout rope to make sure the tree didn’t damage the house.

     Yes, I’ve taken down trees that worry me before. One of the most interesting situations involved a good-sized tree that likely would fall on an ex-mother in law’s house. I thought I could take it down safely and she and her husband didn’t want to pay the high price of a tree company. And the biggest thing—I wanted the challenge to get it down.

     Licensed tree removal companies should have insurance to cover the damage of a mistake. A farmer with a tractor, a saw and some rope likely doesn’t. But the price is right. That was the situation this Saturday morning as I started removing low hanging limbs about 8am. My nephew joined me about 10am as we used a tractor and front end loader to take off some limbs that would counterbalance the way I wanted the tree to fall.

    With all that done, one major limb still hung over the house and could spin the tree once it started to fall. With the rope tautly stretched to the tractor and my nephew set to pull it north as it started to fall, I circled the tree a couple times to make sure where I wanted to cut next. The base of the tree was about 17 inches thick, meaning that the 20 inch bar would be almost fully in use.

     I took time for prayer twice during this adventure, just to ask for God’s to help me make the right decisions. At the last minute, I changed positions to cut from the uphill side of the tree. The saw ran perfectly and hit the pre-cut notch just right while the rope and tractor pulled forward after I signaled my nephew to do his part.

     I run for fun and my heart is used to a good workout. Once I saw the chainsaw cut start widening, I knew the tree was slowly starting to fall. We had already cleared out good exit routes in case the tree twisted as it fell. I jumped up and ran up uphill, then turned to see the tree fall perfectly as was planned.

     My heart was pounding, but all was well. Faith in my own experience and equipment, but a much greater faith in the power of prayer helped me to move forward. Similar situations occur often in life. Trust yourself and then trust God more. Move forward, dream and then be encouraged to achieve. You can do it with God’s help.

By David Freeze

    Only on a rare occasion will I do a movie review, mostly because I don’t see as many as I used to. Plus, I am probably a harsher critic than most. Books often move me more than a movie because I have found out much more about the characters by the time the story concludes. Rarely now do I feel an intense connection to a movie plot. Today, I was totally immersed in a movie that looked especially interesting as soon as I saw the trailer.

      During my own extensive travels, I find the hype of places and things often disappoints once seen in person. This movie was my Grand Canyon and Niagara Falls, the rare sightings that are even greater than expected.

    “Overcomer” came out today (Friday, August 23^rd) and I saw it during the first showing at Tinseltown in Salisbury. Two screens were showing the movie and regular TV commercials had promoted it. Nothing about those two statements would make me go see a movie otherwise, as I’ve found the better ones often don’t get such attention. In this case, I just couldn’t wait to see the movie.

     What grabbed me was the story although I won’t begin to give away the plot. I’ve been known to nod off in a theatre and miss a third of the early action or lack of it. Overcomer didn’t lose me at all and will be hard to ever forget. Reflecting on the plot, every main character had something to overcome, just as most of us do. Within the plot of the movie, all of them succeeded in some measure. Some greater than others, but still they all moved forward.

      The movie trailer tipped me off to some of the action, just as it should. The successful basketball coach and history teacher, his wife, their two sons, the cross-country runner and her family and the school principal, all important throughout.  

     Yes, cross country and running in general are a huge part of the story and the first things that drew me in. I love running, have been at it many years, and everything related to the training and races was especially well done.

     One question asked several times in the movie was, “How do you define yourself?” And at what point does Christian make that list? We can relate, at least I know I can. What do the first two chapters of Ephesians tell us about how God sees us and why He sent His son to die for our sins? What does His love guarantee us once we place our faith in Him?  

     For the rest of the day, my thoughts haven’t left the movie for long. I’ve told many others to make sure they see it. A sure sign of a great movie—when it ends, nobody moves. And while the long lists of credits play, much about things and people we don’t know or fully understand, people still linger and take time gathering themselves.  

    Go see this movie! You’ll laugh, cry (a lot), be motivated and desirous of hammering out your own identity in Christ. Take everyone you know. And be ready for deep reaching discussions afterwards.

    As a person who has sought adamantly His help in difficult situations, often with humor and hope, my own hope is that this movie draws you in and intersects with your own story, just as it did mine.   

Proof I’m not riding along – By David Freeze

Part ll

     Part l with the surveyor still is one of the best stories about my bike rides and of my life. But this summer’s ride to Alaska has a continued lesson about His presence on my cycling adventures. You’ll see why I ask every day, “Lord, ride with me.”

     On just my third day of the Nevada to Alaska cycling adventure, I found myself on a warm day with lots of hills and my water consumption had increased to the point that I needed water soon. I had left Doyle and then Milford, California, assured in both places that there were supply points ahead. I had all my bottles filled with water and a squeeze filter strainer should I need it to drink out of a creek or stream. This option didn’t appeal to me unless the water was moving significantly, although the packaging said that even standing water would be safe. I had 3,000 miles to ride and didn’t want any gastric conditions.

      With temperatures in the lower 90s, I kept pushing north through the challenging terrain. On US 395 in these parts, traffic is insignificant. I did find on my map that there was a Federal Land Management fire station well north of where I was, but there was no guarantee of available water there.

     On a day that reminded me of the day six years ago when I needed water, the same situation soon became a reality. I was out of water again and if the FLM facility wasn’t staffed, would still have close to 50 more miles until the first town. It was a time to stop the bike and say again, “Lord, ride with me,” and this time I was specific about the need for water and how soon it was needed.

      Just a few miles after the prayer and on another steep and hot uphill, I spotted a no longer used rest area. This one had signs and concrete barricades to keep cars out. I stopped a quarter mile away and prayed something like this, “Lord, its hot and dry and I need water. I have never seen a rest area out here with water, particularly an abandoned one. But Lord, if its OK with you, I ask you to provide me with a source of water.”

     I pedaled on and rode through a gap in the barricades and looked around. The bathroom buildings were locked and signs were everywhere to keep out. But off to my left was the most uplifting sight of my trip, a long galvanized pipe spewing spring water at a constant rate. My incredibly selfish prayer had been heard, although that pipe had probably been there for years.

     Within minutes, I drank three bottles of the wonderfully delicious water, ate a few cookies, and felt wonderful. The peace of knowing that my prayer connection has such power comforts me incredibly.

     I left the rest area with a huge smile, but wondering how often those around me realize the power of prayer. No doubt that the Lord does ride along daily.

     On ahead, once I topped the summit of this particular mountain, I did find that FLM fire station. Firefighter Ryan Rodd had me come in for a fantastic peanut butter and jelly sandwich, made even better because I was no longer thirsty. Still Ryan, from North Carolina, told me that I could top off my water bottles in his station. I did, but nothing could possibly have beaten the taste of that spring water!

      Lord, Ride with me today! is the title of my first book and remains my thoughtful request to start a cycling day. I have no doubt that He is with me today and every day.

Proof that I’m not riding alone – By David Freeze

Part 1

    Back in 2013, I decided to give long distance cycling a try. Maybe just a tad more than a try. I decided to ride from Anacortes, Oregon to Myrtle Beach. I knew I would learn a lot about myself, but I didn’t know how much these adventures would deepen my faith. I have included a short recap of three events, two of which assured me of God’s intervention. Or at least that’s the way it looked to me. You may understand why I never worry what might be ahead, danger included.

    In 2013, my flights were delayed to Portland and I missed a shuttle to Anacortes, the point where I would pick up my bike and begin the biggest adventure of my life. With the late arrival, I had to hire a van to drive just me from Portland to Anacortes where the bike was waiting on me. Previously, I was planning to get the bike on Saturday afternoon and begin riding east right away. With my late arrival on Saturday, the bike shop had already closed, and I picked it up on Sunday morning. The owner wanted me to try out the bike before I left the area, just to make sure everything was working right. He said, “Make sure you ride up the only hill in town. You’ll see it.” I was about to ride over 4,000 miles across our great nation, climb across the Rockies, the Ozarks and more.

     I struggled to climb this small but steep hill and had to stop to let my legs catch up about midway. Just an elevation increase of 500 feet had given me trouble. I was demoralized but then headed back to my room to pack the bike. I sat down, asked God to protect me, help me make the right decisions, provide strength when needed and simply to hear me say, “Lord, ride with me today!” The strange peace that came with saying that statement to Him was unbelievable. I left that room with a calmness that would continue all the way through nearly 12,000 feet of elevation in Colorado. To this day, I won’t start my daily ride, no matter the circumstances, without saying, “Lord, ride with me today.”

    A couple weeks later, on the same ride, I was in a vast national park on a Sunday and running out of water. Water is the key supply that matters most to a long distance cyclist. Without it, energy leaves quickly, the mouth feels like rough sandpaper and the tongue just sticks to the roof or bottom of the mouth. I was to this point, knowing that I had no chance of supply for at least 12 more miles, all uphill. I had a swallow left in one bottle. Yes, poor planning on my part, but the facts were that I would probably not die but the next three hours would be miserable unless something happened.

     I stopped to say my prayer again and ask for Him for help. This park was nothing but wilderness in the area, no place to stop until I saw the sign for a rest area ahead. Rest areas out west don’t have water, at least any potable (drinking) water. My hope was that someone might stop with available extra water. No cars were passing me, and I did feel more alone than I should.

    At the rest area, no one was around. Two portajohn style buildings and a trash receptacle were the only amenities. I sat for a minute wondering what to do, knowing that this would be the best chance to find help until I reached the campground 12 miles ahead.

     Just then, I looked up to see a white surveyor’s truck pull onto the grass next to the parking lot. When the driver got out, I walked over to ask him about water. It took no courage to do this because the situation was soon to be serious.

      Remember that this was a Sunday, less traffic than other days, and that I was out of water. The surveyor told me, “I never work on Sunday, but we needed some data today and I’m here to get it. I don’t have any water. No wait! This isn’t my truck and this truck does have some bottled water in it. You are welcome to what you need.” The surveyor had driven this truck because his normal one was not available. I got the water I needed, thanked him and rode on ahead nearly 12 miles to the campground where my supplies were topped off.  

                                                                 Continued……

By David Freeze

So many things were happening Tuesday morning (July 2).

I needed to check my messages and also needed to submit my photos and story before leaving. I had been told to not expect to get online until late in the day. Plus, I wanted to see if somebody from the truck stop would talk to me about what to expect headed north.

I have a copy of “Milepost,” which describes what can be found along the road mile by mile. So I quickly looked through the current section. I found only one place where I was sure to get water.

A man named Bob was the grill cook Monday night when I got to the Nugget Truck Stop. He never did say much. I couldn’t get free water. I couldn’t have Wi-Fi, and everything cost a lot. Plus, there were only sleeping rooms.

I found out there were no food stops and maybe two stops for water. Bob told me to just turn left and keep riding. I bought more snacks, fruit and pastries and started riding north.

I immediately began to climb and kept doing that over and over, just a few miles apart sometimes. Only once did the pace go well. The rest of the morning, I just couldn’t get going.

A little into afternoon, I came off a big climb and noticed my first grizzly beside the road. It was about to walk out in the road, but it turned back just in time to keep from getting run over.

When the grizzly walked across the road, I took a picture. Then it started walking toward me. I put away my iPad and started pedaling away on the flat ground.

Just about then, a woman in a truck stopped and pointed back. The bear was running after me and another truck was stopping. I just kept pedaling and didn’t look back anymore.

I have now seen a grizzly. The two that Juergen, the veterinarian I previously met, encountered were aggressive. It seems they know they can be, although we don’t hear about this nature.

The first water stop Bob suggested had a pump, but no water would come out. I looked in “Milepost” and found one for the next day.

I didn’t have enough water to finish the day, much less for the nighttime hours. I asked Jeannie and Lee Kanter, of Ortonville, Minnesota, and they filled all my empty bottles, even giving me another one.

It was a nice meeting, and I hope to hear from them again.

Then almost right away, Thomas Lesperrier and Lise Faron, of Paris, met me as they headed south. They had experienced some of the road repair that I had when the dust was so bad. We all had it for about a 10-mile stretch, along with several shorter ones.

My diet has been pastry-heavy the last couple of days, but all is off to a good start. With just 11 days left in this section of travel, I think the towns and food stops will get more frequent, which suits me.

I plan to get a motel in the community of Teslin, Yukon, Canada, on Wednesday night. No real shower for me is crazy after six straight days. I am ready.

I completed 86 miles Tuesday and also had my second flat tire just before I planned to quit. It was a front tire this time, which is always my favorite because they are quicker to fix.

I planned to camp and set up among another storm of mosquitoes.

Some of you have emailed, and I haven’t answered you. I cannot send on ctc.net email until I’m out of Canada and, possibly, Alaska too. So, use runner.david.freeze@gmail.com and I will answer you.

Another day has come to an end. We have 11 days to get to Anchorage. Let’s go do it!