In 2008, I met Doug Grant through a mutual friend. Doug had a heart for the Rwandan people and was an avid mountain biker. He was led to raise money for a charity that helped buy bikes for Rwandan coffee farmers so they could haul more product to market. So for his 50th birthday, he rounded up a bunch of his friends and others and held a 50 mile mountain bike ride. Approximately 125 riders participated and they raised around $27,000 for the Project Rwanda charity. With the success of the first ride, they held another one the following year. More participants and more funds were raised. After the second ride is when I met Doug for coffee and shared my story of growing up in Congo, and my spending time in the Refugee Camps in Goma, Zaire immediately following the brutal 1994 genocide. We connected immediately, and starting with the third annual Ride for Rwanda, I’ve helped on the Planning Committee and assisted with all the behind the scenes planning and work to pull off the event. Doug’s personality is magnetic. His enthusiasm for the Rwandan people, mountain biking and helping others is infectious. His commitment to the cause, his energy, humility, selfless dedication and enthusiasm has helped the collective 13 annual events grow to almost 1,200 riders in the annual event, and raised over $1.3 million dollars towards various bike related causes in Africa. The event has funded the Team Africa Rising (Team Rwanda), purchased thousands of bikes for students and medical workers, sponsored start up teams, both men’s and women’s, in 13 countries on the African Continent, provided training for mechanics, and the like. It was two weeks before the 2017 annual Ride for Rwanda, (now called the Good Dirt Ride), that I joined 7 other riders to pre-ride the 25 mile route. This ride would change me, and I didn’t know it. Several of us were from the Planning Committee, and a few other volunteers joined us. Our purpose was to ensure no dangerous areas were on the route that would cause the riders to fall and get injured.

Doug was on that ride. While the group was generally riding at the same pace, I noticed that there were parts of the trail where he was behind me, and others he’d be ahead of me. I thought that strange as he’s a stronger rider than I. Part way into the ride I saw he was riding his single speed bike. No gears. That would explain it.

Well into the route, we crossed the Coto De Caza gate street and began the Chiquita trail portion. It has a climb with some downhill then a flat section, ending with a big, challenging “pop” to get to the very top, before the long descent starts.

I sped up and hit the chunky and slippery steep hill and managed to get to the top without any issues. The others did the same. As I waited, Doug started up the hill and got about three quarters from the top and spun out. I assumed he’d walk the bike up the last fifteen feet and our group would be on its way. Instead, he turned around and went a short distance from the base of the hill. He began to pedal and made his ascent. Straining and gritting his teeth, with veins popping on his neck and arms, he started to spin out, but he kept going. About five feet from the top, he hit a rock, and the bike stopped dead in its tracks. He got off his bike. “Now, he’ll walk the few feet to the top and we can continue” I thought. I was wrong. He was determined to make it to the top on the bike. He rolled down to the bottom and turned around, facing his twice-thwarted nemesis. By now, our group decided it was time to rally Doug. He gathered himself, stared at the hill, took several deep breaths and began to pedal. We cheered him on. Straining and standing on his pedals the last ten feet, he started to spin out, but kept going as his rear tire found some traction. He crested the top. We all cheered. I’d never seen such determination and grit. His effort wasn’t to impress our group of “cleaning” that steep hill on a single speed. No, it was to bring him satisfaction that he could do it, and would do it and that a cop-out of pushing his bike the last few feet wasn’t acceptable. This was about him.

“Of all the sermons that I heard at church growing up, I can’t remember a single message that was preached in any of them. But I can certainly remember the people who preached them.” ― Craig D. Lounsbrough

We continued on our ride. I began to think about that effort I’d just seen. Then I got inspired. I’d ridden the 50 miler quite a few times and the 25 miler as well. I’d ridden The Traverse endurance race twice, a 46 mile endurance ride with nearly 9,000 feet of elevation gain, so had hit some fairly high bars for a middle-aged wannabe mountain biker. But riding a single speed was for crazy strong people. I pondered this all as I pedaled. Before the ride was over, I committed to riding the next year’s 50 miler on a single speed.

“Don’t tell people what you plan to do….show them your results.” — Anonymous

I found a cheap steel Nashbar single speed on Craigslist and bought it. I took it to Whiting Ranch for its inaugural ride. I wanted to ride my normal loop. It’s certainly a different type of riding, requiring considerable strength. There were no gears to downshift to! I had to stop five times from Cattle Pond, Mustard hill and up to the peak at Mark’s Bench. FIVE!

A few days later, I did the same route. This time I had to stop three times. Then on my third outing I was literally five feet from the top of Mustard trail going one mph and hit a rock and stopped. It wasn’t until the fourth attempt at my normal loop that I made it the whole way without stopping to rest. Barely!

Now I was hooked. This single speeding thing was amazing. It was a challenge for sure. So I found a well-used On One Carbon single speed that was lighter, and bought that. I trained in the spring of 2018. And trained. And trained.

And the last weekend of April, 2018, I rode in the twelfth Annual 50 mile Ride for Rwanda on my single speed bike. I had to stop once on East Ridge, a long, steep rocky hill, due to spinning out. But like Doug, I didn’t push my bike up the last few feet to the top. No, as Doug had done, I regrouped, took a few breaths, let my heart rate drop, mounted my bike and strained all the way to the top. I finished the route 10 minutes faster than the prior year on my geared bike. Go figure.

Little did Doug know that his two extra efforts of perseverance to climb that one steep hill on Chiquita trail a year earlier would inspire me to take on a new challenge riding the next year’s 50 mile Rwanda Ride. And now I’m a single speeder.

“In everything set them an example by doing what is good. In your teaching show integrity…” — Titus 2:7

People watch what you do. It is true that people might listen to what you say, but how you live your life, and the example of your actions impact and inspire people that you may never know about. Doug rode that route with his personal integrity set for completing it fully on his bike. I saw that and it’s opened up a whole new area of mountain biking to me. I never dreamed I could do it, but with Doug’s example as my goal, I did it. Doug inspired me in a small way, and never knew it until I told him a year or two later. You inspire more people than you know with your actions and how you live your life. Your personal integrity is on display with how you treat people. How you treat the things you invest your life in are being seen by others. They say “Talk is cheap”, and it’s true, But to make an impact, let your actions speak for who you are and what you stand for. As Believers, we are to follow Christ’s example, as hard as it is for us humans in a sinful world. Doug is inspiring to our Planning Committee and to the participants of our annual fund raiser ride. And his efforts to lead the annual fund raiser Good Dirt Ride has impacted and inspired thousands of people in Africa that he will never meet. Be careful what you DO. What you DO, inspires others. So do what is right.

Congo Kid — Article # 14 — May, 2020

Copyright © 2020 by Jeffrey W. Eales. All rights reserved. No portions may be reproduced or transmitted in any format without the prior written permission of the author.