fellowshipofthechainring.org

Note: this is a continuation from Long Time Coming (see below)

Where were we? Oh, I remember. The Van Duzer. I was explaining how the FOTC came to be. John and I were waxing theological and philosophical about John Eldridge’s Epic and drawing spiritual connections between Lord of the Rings, other heroes’ journeys, and the Biblical story of the fall and redemption.

We talked about the heroism of Samwise Gamgee, who when he couldn’t take the ring himself, picked up and carried Frodo, ring and all. It was such a picture of friendship. We spoke of the others in the “Fellowship” who each in their way sacrificed to protect Frodo and his quest. Frodo wouldn’t have made it without the “Fellowship” protecting, guiding, and encouraging him.

I then thought of King Solomon’s sage advice:

“Two are better than one because they have a good return for their labor. For if either of them falls, the one will lift up his companion. But woe to the one who falls when there is not another to lift him up. Furthermore, if two lie down together they keep warm, but how can one be warm alone? And if one can overpower him who is alone, two can resist him. A cord of three strands is not quickly torn apart. “

That was when the name came like a bolt of sunshine parting the clouds: Fellowship of the Chainring. We would start a cycling club that would have a catchy name. Not only would the name be catchy, but it would symbolize what John and I were about on our rides. We were there for the fellowship, the camaraderie.

If it wasn’t for John’s encouragement to ride with him, and do it for a good cause (to fight Multiple Sclerosis), I wouldn’t be back on my bike, getting in good (okay, better) shape, and I would be missing out on a great adventure.

We were only two riders that day, but we were more than that. We were a team; we were a fellowship.

Since that day, we completed all 180 miles of the MS150 ride in ‘04. We then began riding a little more frequently. We trained for last year’s MS150, and that year, we were officially recognized as a team (of three). Tim joined us that year.

Tim embodied, and in some ways, further refined what the Fellowship was all about on that ride. Tim is in great shape, he used to race for Oregon State, and really knows his stuff. If he wanted to, he could have dusted us, but he didn’t. He chose to ride with us and enjoy the friendship. When John and I were slugging up the climb to Sherwood in the middle of the hot afternoon somewhere near mile 80 or so of the ride, he flew up the hill, took some pictures, rode back down, took more pictures, encouraged us and rode back up the hill with us. If it wasn’t for the photos, I’m sure he would have climbed the hill 3 times, just to encourage us.

Well, we are about to start our third season as a team. Now, we want to share the fellowship and encourage more to join us. Please consider riding with us and becoming a part of the Fellowship of the Chainring.

Well, the gestation period of this idea was almost 2 years. It was Spring of ‘04 that John asked me to train for the MS 150 with him. I looked at my belly, considered my multiple chins, and decided to dust off the big blue Ochsner and regain my boyish figure.

I was like uncle Rico. Any discussion of cycling typically focused on my glory days when my friends and I used to ride our yearly, 124 mile trek through the Sonoran desert in the middle of the summer (we rode through the night), up 5,000 feet of elevation gain from Phoenix to summer camp outside of Prescott.

When John asked me to ride, this still small voice in the back of my head said, “you can spend your time talking about 15 years ago, or you can start talking about today’s ride.” I chose today’s ride, and I choose that ride today. . .

Well, except, I didn’t actually ride today; the rainpants I ordered were too tight. I suppose I’m still working on that boyish figure part — but I digress.

Summer of ‘04 was the time when I began to rekindle my love for cycling. It’s a love not only for the deserted country road, not only for the unmistakable whirr of the freewheel, not only for careening down an 8% grade (okay, maybe it’s more like 6%), but it was a rekindling of my love for the camaraderie of cycling: the fellowship of the chainring.

That first ride on the BBO (Big Blue Ochsner) was one I’d rather forget. I was winded from a 2% grade going up 209th from TV highway to Farmington (it must have been at least 35 feet of elevation gain). Then, a dog chased me for 15 feet, and we barely made it to Tile Flat Road before John asked if I wanted to go back (we were only 5.5 miles into the ride). John gave me an out by saying something about having to go back, and that was all I needed to turn around.

Soon, however, John and I were building up our mileage. Pretty soon, I was riding 25 miles, then 35 miles, then 40 miles. It was our last major training ride when the inspiration for the name came. We were riding from Newberg to Lincoln City, a 72-mile ride through the Van Duzer Corridor over the coastal range and down to the beautiful Oregon coast, when we struck up a conversation about the book, Epic, by John Eldridge . . .

Tune in later for more of “Long Time Coming” Hey! it took me 2 years to get this site up and running. I think you can wait a day.