Questions

One thing I’m doing to process the experience of Rich’s Ride is flipping through hundreds of photos. You can imagine that each picture evokes some vivid memories.

I’m noticing that occasionally a photo prompts a question. I thought I’d share a few of them.

What do you say about hope–something real that doesn’t sound like simplistic Christianese–to a guy who just spent a weekend sleeping on cold, dangerous streets?

How do you know when you’re telling an important story and when you’re just trying to get attention for yourself?

What do elementary-age kids take away from this kind of story?

Should you feel guilty about enjoying a snack on a bike ride to raise money for starving children?

Could I worship like these kids if I knew I was returning to a home of poverty, neglect, or abuse? Did my message impact them as much as their spirit impacted me?

How do we stay committed to our dreams when others think they’re as silly as a ball diamond in the middle of an Iowa corn field?

How do we reach out to marginalized folks in places like retirement homes and jails? How do we make Hope something real and tangible that truly does change what’s possible?

Please leave a comment here.

If you’ve enjoyed the updates from Rich’s Ride, please check out my blog at BOUNCING BACK.

We’ve got a great circle of folks who look at living life on purpose and following Jesus in the real world. I hope you’ll join us.

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Small Stream To Mighty River

 I’ve been sharing some reflections about the Mississippi River as a metaphor for a dream. You can see previous articles here.

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The Mississippi River cuts a wide, powerful path through New Orleans. Yesterday we watched huge ocean-going cruise ships traverse its final miles on their way to the Gulf of Mexico.

It’s difficult to believe this is the same river we crossed on September 12^th. Back then it was scarcely a trickle. You could hardly float a decent-sized toy boat in that tiny stream.

I’ve been thinking for eight weeks about how such an incredible transformation happens. How does an obscure babbling brook become one of the world’s great rivers?

The river grows through contributions from hundreds, perhaps thousands, of other sources. Small streams and major rivers drain water from a huge portion of the U.S. This collective input creates the great river.

I look back at Rich’s Ride and see remarkable similarities. The dream wandered and flickered in my mind for several years before I dared to write about it in an article called Nine Miles An Hour at Bouncing Back.

My puny dream didn’t grow through my efforts. It grew because so many people caught a vision and contributed so generously. Because others shared time, talent, and treasure beyond my wildest dreams, Rich’s Ride grew into something I would have never dared to imagine.

My sense is that most dreams work like that. Perhaps the original idea or the final result gets identified with one individual, but usually the dream’s development involves essential contributions large and small from many folks.

It is truly remarkable what can be accomplished when nobody cares who gets the credit. Rich’s Ride isn’t about Rich and it isn’t about a ride.

It’s about all of us—Together On A Journey Of Hope.

Please leave a comment here.

My Dream Or Yours?

Every Monday while I’m on this crazy ride I’m sharing some reflections about the Mississippi River as a metaphor for a dream. You can see previous articles here.

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If you’ve been following this project through the blog, you know that one purpose of Rich’s Ride is encouraging others to chase their dreams.

But there’s an important qualifier: you have to be sure you chase your dream.

The Mississippi River is one of the world’s great rivers. It’ll guide you to Minneapolis and Hannibal and dozens of other interesting communities along its path. But as incredible as it is, it won’t take you to New York or Denver.

Dreams have a lot in common. I sincerely hope that following my dream inspires you to dream God-sized dreams and to believe it’s worth pursuing them. We can learn and be inspired and encouraged by other dreamers.

But I think it’s incredibly sad to watch someone pursue another person’s dream.

Too many folks wear themselves out running after a dream that belongs to someone else. But dreams are intensely personal—one person’s dream is another’s drudgery.

I’m chasing my dream along this particular river. I didn’t choose it because it’s the biggest or because someone else thought it was cool. The Mississippi’s path is exactly right for me, for reasons I can’t entirely explain.

You have to find and follow your own path, your own river. Don’t ever choose a river because it worked for someone else. Don’t choose it
to impress or get approval from anyone.

Pick the river that leads you to your dream.

Please leave a comment here.

Where’s Rich? Today This Week

Want to get involved with Rich’s Ride? Check here for some ideas. Send us a message, and consider riding along.
It’s going to be fun!

I’m doing a big project to share a big dream, and I’d love to have you along.
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Wandering

1133 miles

I never realized how much the river begins to twist and turn as it approaches Memphis.

Rivers always have bends and corners. Everyone knows there’s no such thing as a perfectly straight river. But I wasn’t prepared for this.

I can’t follow the river here. No roads trace anything close to the meandering path.

I wonder if this happens to dreams at some point. I wonder if it’s inevitable that even the most focused dreamer loses a sense of where things are supposed to go.

That’s a bit how the ride feels right now. We’re moving, doing stuff, but there’s a sense that’s all we’re doing. There’s a sense of wandering.

Rivers wander as they age. Maybe that’s what happens with dreams.

I guess it would be nice to avoid this meandering stage. There’s that whole “shortest distance between two points” thing, but even as I write the words I remember that dreams aren’t about getting to the end.

It’s about the journey. It’s about traveling well. And if wandering is part of the journey, then we need to wander well.

Every time I begin my internal fussing about the inefficiency of this wandering stage I have to remind myself that the true joy is in pursuing the dream. We’ll be finished all too soon, left to wonder how it all happened so quickly.

I don’t want to wish away even a single day of this adventure. So we’ll twist and turn as best we can, following the dream, trusting that if we travel well the destination will arrive when it’s supposed to.

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We were able to spend the weekend at the famous Peabody Hotel in Memphis, thanks to the generosity of our new friends Dudley and Michelle Boyd. Among many other wonderful amenities, The Peabody is known for The Peabody Ducks.

Hundreds of otherwise sane people gather twice each day to witness The March Of The Peabody Ducks. Here’s a video of blogger Chris Brogan serving as Honorary Duckmaster.

If you can’t see the video, click here.

Please leave a comment here.

Where’s Rich? Today This Week

Want to get involved with Rich’s Ride? Check here for some ideas. Send us a message, and consider riding along.
It’s going to be fun!

I’m doing a big project to share a big dream, and I’d love to have you along.
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Glamorous Dreams

Every Monday while I’m on this crazy ride I’m sharing some reflections about the Mississippi River as a metaphor for a dream. You can see previous articles here.

* * * * *

The river isn’t all glamorous.

Some stretches are glorious—sun shimmering across bright blue water, picturesque tugs skillfully maneuvering barges through the locks, lovely waterfront communities lined with pleasure boats, trails, and parks. These are the postcard views, the places featured on websites and chamber of commerce brochures.

But there are other stretches—oily backwaters, rusted abandoned barges, boarded-up buildings, and hard, weathered waterfront towns filled with hard, weathered people who wrestle a tough living from an unforgiving environment. These aren’t the places you imagine when you plan a trip down the river.

In St Louis there’s a wonderful riverfront trail that ends beneath the iconic arch. But in the miles prior to reaching the arch you pass through salvage yards, past flood walls, and across levees that overlook the difficult work along the shores. It’s not the sort of territory I expected on a city’s signature trail.

I’m learning that you understand the river only by experiencing all of it. Tourists frequent the refurbished communities filled with antique shops and souvenir stands, but that’s not the whole story.

Same with a dream—it’s not all the shining, glamorous adventure you imagine, the one portrayed in the movie. Just like the river, I think every dream includes some hard, weathered stretches.

Parts of this ride are absolutely inspiring. The speaking events, the words of encouragement from the growing circle of support, the waves and shouts from drivers—those moments are what we imagined when we began. The trails along those calm, bright blue waters are the parts everyone wants captured in photos.

But that’s not the entire story. Some parts are just plain hard or boring or discouraging. It’s tempting to try to wish them away, but you can’t and you shouldn’t. I don’t think you can experience the dream by hitting the tourist highlights.

After all, nearly anyone can do the easy parts. Cruising downhill in sunshine on a beautiful trail doesn’t require much conditioning or develop much character.

It’s analogous to the tourists who drive the freeway and stop at the cutesy places with chain restaurants and souvenirs made in China. Easy, safe, and comfortable, but they don’t leave with much of a sense of the river’s truth.

Parents, spouses, employees, entrepreneurs—they all know that worthwhile journeys contain hard stretches that must be traveled well.

The river wouldn’t be what it is without the tough parts. Same with the dream.

I wonder if the trip might ultimately be defined by how we travel the less glamorous stretches.

Please leave a comment here.

940 miles so far

Want to see something kinda cool? The link below shows today’s route. If you open the page you’ll see a map–look in the upper right corner of the map for a button labeled “3D” and click it. Let me know what you think.

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Where’s Rich? Today This Week

Want to get involved with Rich’s Ride? Check here for some ideas. Send us a message, and consider riding along.
It’s going to be fun!

I’m doing a big project to share a big dream, and I’d love to have you along.
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The View From The Bridge

Every Monday while I’m on this crazy ride I’m sharing some reflections about the Mississippi River as a metaphor for a dream. You can see previous articles here.

* * * * *

I’m noticing a lot about the river as I live with it.

I’ve lived in the Midwest a lot of my life. I can’t imagine how many times I’ve crossed the Mississippi River without paying much attention. At freeway speeds, it’s there one moment and gone the next.

But when you travel along its length, you have time to notice stuff. Small stuff, subtle changes, things you don’t see from the bridges. You realize that the river isn’t constant, that it’s not just a big ribbon of water.

The river has a life of its own, and you can only perceive its nature by being with it for a while. Drive-by encounters won’t do.

I think dreams work like that. When you pass by someone’s dream, it’s pretty hard to understand it. There’s a lot going on that you just can’t see from the bridge at highway speed.

I think perhaps that’s why others’ dreams are sometimes so hard to understand. When you live with a dream, it looks a lot different than it appears on a quick drive-by. Maybe the idea that seems crazy at from the bridge at freeway speed makes more sense when you travel with it a while.

Maybe we should be a bit slower to judge the worthiness of a dream based on its appearance as we intersect its path.

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Today begins week five of the journey. At 763 miles we’re just about on schedule to complete 1500 miles.

Today we’ll head out of St Louis toward Carbondale. Tuesday and Wednesday bring great opportunities to speak with students in several venues at Southern Illinois University. I’m not sure when we’ll squeeze in time to ride, but it’ll work out somehow.

For those who’ve followed the GPS tracker, I apologize for the glitches at the end of last week. It’s a bit touchy—glad my life doesn’t depend on it! However, it appears to be working again. Thanks for your patience.

Please leave a comment here.

Where’s Rich? Today This Week

Want to get involved with Rich’s Ride? Check here for some ideas. Send us a message, and consider riding along.
It’s going to be fun!

I’m doing a big project to share a big dream, and I’d love to have you along.
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Detours

Every Monday while I’m on this crazy ride I’m sharing some reflections about the Mississippi River as a metaphor for a dream. You can see previous articles here.

* * * * *

Thursday and Friday of last week I scarcely saw the river.

I trust that it’s there, that I’ll meet it again at some point. But right now the river’s out of sight.

We’ve lost sight of the river for various reasons along the way. Sometimes it’s intentional—we chose the Paul Bunyan Trail for beauty and safety. Sometimes it’s unavoidable—on some stretches there simply isn’t a road anywhere near the river. And occasionally there’s an unplanned detour that knocks us off course.

I think dreams work a lot like that. Ideally we’d like to follow a certain course, but life’s rarely ideal or predictable.

As a teacher I knew kids who grew frustrated with school because it seemed to keep them from getting on with their plans. But sometimes a class or a degree that seems like a detour really leads to the opportunity we’re seeking. “Wants” and “needs” aren’t always located on the same path.

Most wise leaders know enough to call “time out” occasionally. Retreats, conferences, and vacations appear momentarily unproductive, but they’re necessary to re-fill the tank. Charging full-speed in single-minded pursuit of a dream might seem like the quickest path to success, but it rarely works out like that. Diversions and breaks actually lead to long-term success when you’re chasing a big dream.

And sometimes life just knocks you off course. Illness, financial setbacks, family issues—all sorts of detours can pop us where you didn’t expect them. But they’re only detours. Just like the river, the dream’s still there. Hope tells you there’s a path that eventually leads back to it.

You just have to believe and trust and keep moving. Because one’s thing’s certain—sitting still and complaining won’t get you back to your dream.

One other thing—you can’t look at the roads away from the river as wasted time, something to simply endure. Those roads have their own beauty and their own lessons.

My map tells me I’ll ride a few miles tomorrow before I encounter the river. Those miles are part of this amazing journey, and I don’t want to wish them away because they don’t fit my preconceived expectations.

Please leave a comment here.

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Today we head south from Burlington to Keokuk, then on to Quincy and Hannibal. My friend Glenn Bruckhart is driving all the way from Denver to ride these two days with me. I’m looking forward to company and good conversation. When he sees these ride elevations I hope he doesn’t decide to go home!

Wednesday will be a great day with three speaking opportunities—a men’s breakfast, noon Lions Club, and Wednesday evening church service.

Where’s Rich? Today This Week

Want to get involved with Rich’s Ride? Check here for some ideas. Send us a message, and consider riding along.
It’s going to be fun!

I’m doing a big project to share a big dream, and I’d love to have you along.
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Which Dream?

We crossed the Mississippi three times during the first day. I recall thinking that it was a bit disappointing.

Even thirty miles from its source, the great river offers little clue of its eventual magnitude. It’s nothing more than a stream.

We passed a lot of small streams in northern Minnesota. There was no way of predicting which ones would become rivers, which would disappear, and which one would become one of the world’s great rivers.

I think dreams are like that. When they begin, dreams look mostly alike. There’s no knowing which will fail, which will succeed, and which will become Apple or Microsoft.

It’s easy to look back and pretend the wildly successful dreams were inevitable. You look at Google or Facebook today and it’s hard to imagine that they wouldn’t have been as wildly successful as they became. But at the beginning they appeared no different than thousands of other apparently crazy notions.

The message, I think, is not to give up on dreams too soon. I wonder how many amazing ideas have died simply because someone looked at them in their infancy and decided they couldn’t ever amount to anything.

You have to dream, and you have to believe in the dream enough to see it through. It may die anyway, for any number of reasons. But you can’t know at the beginning how it’ll play out.

Dreaming is risky business. Many, even most, don’t become great rivers.

But you can’t tell which stream  will become a great river, or which dream will change the world, unless you’re willing to take the risk and head downstream as far as the dream will take you.

Please leave a comment here.

Where’s Rich? Today This Week

Want to get involved with Rich’s Ride? Check here for some ideas. Send us a message, and consider riding along.
It’s going to be fun!

I’m doing a big project to share a big dream, and I’d love to have you along.
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Where Does It Begin?

A couple of friends suggested that the Mississippi River provides a pretty good metaphor for this project. I think the river also offers some lessons about dreams in general. So as we crank along together I’d like to share some observations about the river we’re following.

It’s interesting to look at the source of the river and realize that it isn’t a river…until it is. One moment it’s part of a swampy bog at the end of a lake, then suddenly it’s a river. The exact moment of transition isn’t all that clearly defined.

Of course we can go back—after the fact—and mark the spot where the dream supposedly began.

At the Mississippi headwaters, a neat rock wall clearly delineates where lake ands and river begins. You can stand at the EXACT spot where the river’s path begins. But of course that’s all made up.

The wall’s man-made. It’s a great place to take cheesy tourist photos. But the river doesn’t naturally begin like that.

The river’s beginning is messy and uncertain. That’s how most dreams begin.

We discourage other dreamers when we pretend that our dreams began with trumpets and scrolls. We act like God dropped an invitation on our
desk, all neatly wrapped in a bow.

Maybe that’s how it happens for you. But for me, this dream didn’t appear on a stone tablet. It flickered, nearly unrecognizable, for years. And when it finally became a full-fledged dream, people asked where it originated.

I could invent a neat starting point, an artificial wall dividing not-dream from dream. But that’s not how it happened.

It wasn’t a dream … and then it was.

Please leave a comment here.

*  *  *  *  *

Speaking events yesterday were incredible. College students at North Central University, little ones at Hillcrest school. Thought you’d enjoy seeing what went on.

Today we’re back on the road…we hope. Forecast calls for rain and strong wind. Oh well–off to Red Wing.

Where’s Rich? Today This Week

Want to get involved with Rich’s Ride? Check here for some ideas. Send us a message, and consider riding along.
It’s going to be fun!

I’m doing a big project to share a big dream, and I’d love to have you along.
Click below to get Rich’s Ride
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