This blog post will make more sense if you have been following my social media posts since departing Cincinnati on Sunday, July 19, with Ken Lunken—a fellow rider and friend from the Cincinnati Cycle Club. It’s Aug. 6 as I write. It is my official zero day (day off from riding).

Since then, I trust from my posts and images that you have seen I’ve been blessed with an amazing and wonderful multifaceted travel experience of driving, cycling, train rides, taxi rides, and much more cycling while crossing the Continental Divide in Alberta and British Columbia, Canada.

I re-entered the United States yesterday at Roosville, Montana, and am now catching up on some rest, cleaning, bike maintenance, administration, and…you get the idea.

There is more to this exciting story, however, that adds to the drama besides riding through ice fields, big climbs and descents, a young bear popping up along the road (about 50 feet away), smoke, and avoiding fires. I am embarrassed to say that I took a tumble about one hour into riding the trail and cracked some ribs—at least three.

Succinctly, I am fine! But I am sore as I negotiate the healing process.

What happened? The trail narrowed along an incline, and in trying to negotiate the path, I let my front tire get too close to the edge. It dug into the soil, the bike stopped, and the bike and I rolled left as I landed on my left side. (Bummer that I could not keep my inertia leaning toward the trail.) I gained my composure, stood up, and got my bike back on the trail. While lifting my bike, I felt the pain. Because of my new pace and limitations, it would take us a couple more hours to complete the segment and then ride 35 miles on the road to the next town. By the time we got to the highway, I knew I could not continue riding in such a remote setting.

Fortunately, there was a Jasper National campground nearby, and we stayed there. What to do? What to do? No bruises, punctures, blood, or swelling—just pain and discomfort. I would only slow Ken down and put myself at unnecessary risk if I continued as planned! Ken felt bad, but he needed to continue the next morning as I evaluated my limited options.

In my first aid kit was ibuprofen, so that helped a lot. In the morning, I moved slowly and intentionally. We said goodbye, and I set off to ride the 14 miles back to Jasper to better research my options and call Betsy. I needed information. Quitting was not an option—at least not today.

Immediately, I thought of that athlete who trains and prepares over time for one big event only to fall short because of injury or circumstances. How can this still work? I asked myself.

Surprisingly, it did not hurt to pedal or ride my bike the 14 miles on the road back to Jasper. The fires had halted all train movements in and out of Jasper. It would be Wednesday or Saturday before the train would leave for Vancouver, a 24-hour ride, where I could either get to an airport or change plans to ride the Pacific Trail south to other options.

Visiting the local bike shop, I asked what other options would take me south along the Divide and back toward the border. They recommended the infamous Icefields Parkway along Route 93. I also spent the rest of the day meeting with rangers at the information and visitors center to better understand the route and the availability of camping facilities. Road riding on Routes 93 and 95, with their wide shoulders, seemed to make sense.

I pedaled with a tailwind back to camp and discussed it with the staff. The next morning, there were more camping details to research using Google Maps, and I needed Wi-Fi at the train station to map out my route and check in again with Betsy. The pain was increasing, so I checked into Jasper Hostel and made it a point to go to the hospital to see exactly what the situation on my left side was.

Fortunately, I had taken out a travel insurance policy. Suffice it to say, my experience with the Canadian health system went as well as it could have. Even my ER visit was only a few hours. The staff was great. It turns out I cracked at least three ribs under my left scapula and possibly one lower, midway down my side. I was managing the discomfort with extra-strength Tylenol. She added naproxen to the equation and told me to be mindful of shortness of breath and facial swelling if they occurred.

Her findings all lined up with how I was feeling and the discomfort I was experiencing. The trains still weren’t running, and I was managing. Research done, my options—to attempt a road ride along the Continental Divide through the Icefields Parkway, continue waiting, or quit—became clear to me.

I was in one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. The road ride was doable. Would I give God a chance to show up? Yes!

I gave you way more health details than perhaps you cared to know, but it’s part of this story. The circumstances are unfortunate. The best plans and training are made, but things don’t always go our way. It can be hard.

Our culture at Lord’s Gym Ministries is taken from Tim Kite’s R-Factor model. Tim helped me set it up. Basically, one has to know their objective, or vision, considering the organization. After that, you only have two things to consider, of which only one you can control.

One of those things is “events” or circumstances. We can’t control those things. The other, which we can control, is our response. A knee-jerk reaction is to quit because it’s easy or convenient. A more disciplined and inconvenient response is to press pause, gain mental clarity, and then take measured action steps. Maybe the plans must change.

For me, proving that I can ride long distances is not my goal. I have done that. For me, I want to harness the power of an adventure to bring attention to and raise funds to impact youth gun violence. Kids are shooting at each other and hurting others through such reckless and thoughtless behavior.

This incident gives me not only one more reason to mention it, but it also reminded me why I am attempting the ride. We can do better.

The team back home at Lord’s Gym Ministries of Greater Cincinnati (Danny, Chris, Henri, Sara, Lynn, Valerie, Tom, Melissa, Vicky, Erica, and AMAZING volunteers) is on the front lines building meaningful relationships that God will use to make a difference in people’s lives. I have seen firsthand when God has used a staff member to intervene in a gun-related incident that did NOT make the evening news. I want to support that and help my team get the resources they need. It’s simple, really.

Tim Kite would say, E + R = O. Translated—Events plus Response equals Objective. My response is not to quit today but to press on toward the objective. Ribs will heal. I can always quit tomorrow.

Lastly, I wanted to wait until now to share and explain my “Event/Circumstances.” From my social posts, you can see that I am managing my ride and finding tremendous joy in the experience. Many would have been concerned and worried about the rigors of the ride on me personally if I had shared this at the beginning.

My plans at present are to lessen the weight of my bike by shipping gear home from Eureka, continue south along the Great Divide, find roads where needed, and monitor my health. I feel better each day and can cough and sneeze pain-free. LOL.

I will not ride the GD solo, but perhaps I will meet other cyclists or cross paths with Ken. I am giving God the chance to show up each day and guide me accordingly. I plan to research other options in the event I decide to ride east instead, back toward Ohio. It’s all good, and I am very blessed.

Stay tuned. Please keep me in your prayers and help me bring attention to youth gun violence. Get involved in some way.

To give, click on the red Donate button above. Under “Apply My Donation,” select “Scott’s Great Divide Ride.” My goal is to reach $70,000.

Press on. Stand Firm. Grow Strong.

Scott