One of the unforeseen, tricky bits of his unconventional approach was convincing distributors that he was a legitimate businessman, not some biker trying to game the system for parts at wholesale prices. Eventually, though, they came around, and Wyse hit the road to work the bike repair circuit.

It’s become a year-round, full-time job. He’s typically out at least once a day on a call. His longest day yet sent him riding 20 miles from job to job, back and forth across Harrisonburg. Take his word for it: it’s a long way to pull a trailer that weighs between 100 and 150 pounds.

Wyse Cycles rolls to 91����Ƶ at least once a week to hold a walk-in bike-repair clinic that’s been getting busier and busier recently. Wyse has taught a bike maintenance and repair class here for the past four years, during which biking has become more of a thing among students.

With no shop space to rent, Wyse can keep his overhead, and the prices he charges, low. That also frees him to spend time during his regular workday biking, rather than driving, from job to job, and to take on some low- and non-paying jobs fixing bikes for people who couldn’t otherwise afford it.

“One of the beautiful things about the bicycle is it’s accessible to a wide swath of the public,” says Wyse, who would love to do more to promote biking beyond the somewhat smaller swath of customers with ability to pay him, though this has to be balanced against the economics of supporting his family with three young children.

The low financial barrier to entry is just one of the beautiful things about the bicycle and the “bicycle lifestyle,” as he refers to it. His first brush with it all was entirely pragmatic. He bought his first bike because he needed a way to get to a summer job during college. The more he rode, though, the more it made sense. Biking was fun, it was friendly, it was clean and green and healthy, and before long, the bicycle grew into an object that fit squarely into Wyse’s thoughts about (and even theological understandings of) community, simple living, peace and sustainability.

“[Biking] is fundamentally about moving us toward something that’s more whole and healthy for the human community,” he says, sitting in his basement workshop, surrounded by bikes, tools and bucket-after-overflowing bucket of parts gleaned from the bicycle graveyard outside.

A fuller realization of that vision for wholeness and health will require more people living the bicycle lifestyle. Wyse chips away at that from his end, applauds the work of others who’ve been active in the community to make it a better, safer place to bike, and laments the fact that it takes such persistent effort to put better infrastructure in place.

“We have a long way to go in terms of convincing the city that spending money on cycling is a good investment,” he says. “Without the citizen [advocacy], the city would be doing nothing.”

Many in the area have cheered as the city has garnered recognition in recent years from state and national groups as a good place to bike. Wyse, though, sees these as a bit of a disappointment, in that they overstate the degree to which the city is making the bicycle lifestyle an easier one to live.

Then again, frustratingly slow though it can be, change is happening. Go check out the crowded racks at the city’s middle school, he says. There weren’t nearly so many students riding a few years back.

Not long ago, Wyse did a simple re-fit for one of his customers, who, as her pregnancy progressed, needed some adjustments to keep comfortably riding beside another child of hers to elementary school. What if, someday, that sort of thing becomes the norm? Wyse asks. It’s where he hopes we’ll end up: a time when riding bikes isn’t special, isn’t niche, isn’t unusual, when kids ride, when old people ride, when it will be entirely non-remarkable to see a pregnant woman riding down the street with a child wobbling along beside her.

— Andrew Jenner ’04

Bowman, historical librarian at 91����Ƶ, is a creature of habit. She follows the same sinuous route through Park View each time she rides: first south along South College Street, then north to the very tip of Harmony Heights, with frequent side jaunts, back-tracks and loop-‘rounds to add more miles.

She usually rides at least eight miles, and has been recently adding more twists and turns to the route, trying to up the total while remaining within the relatively flat, quiet and friendly confines of Park View. If she gets back to the seminary and feels like tacking on a bit, she does loops of the parking lot, which is a good, strong tenth of a mile in perimeter.

As of July 19, four days before her 76^th birthday, she’d ridden 234 miles since May, as part of 91����Ƶ’s contribution to the – a nationwide effort to have 50,000 riders log a collective 10 million miles through the end of August.

At first, Bowman thought she’d just do it for fun. Then she discovered the online “leader board” that allows her to compare her mileage totals to other participants at 91����Ƶ, and her competitive spirit kicked in.

“I figured if I could ride a couple times and get ahead of the next person, well I would do that. It’s been fun, and a challenge,” she says.

The gently competitive aspect of the National Bike Challenge is part of its allure for other 91����Ƶ bikers too.

“It definitely is motivating to look and see where other people are,” says , 91����Ƶ’s director of , currently trailing Bowman in the overall standings. “If you see Lois Bowman beating you, it makes you want to put in some extra miles.”

On her regular circuits, Bowman enjoys tracking the progress of a few homes under construction in the neighborhood. She gets a feel for who keeps up their yard and who doesn’t. She’s become acquainted in passing with the people who spend their evenings outside as she rolls on by.

Bowman rides as often as she can, whenever she has a free evening and the weather’s kind. That means Monday is always out, because that’s the night she plays her fiddle at a country jam out west of town, and she “wouldn’t miss that for anything.” And the first Thursday of the month is out: HAM radio club. And the second Thursday of the month is out, too, another music jam at . But other nights, she usually bikes.

This started back in 2005, when Bowman would accompany her daughter, son-in-law and two grandchildren to Hillandale Park, where the grandkids were learning to ride their bikes. And when they got the hang of it, she felt like she wanted to keep up. So she paid a visit to Mole Hill Bikes in Dayton, where she bought a Giant, equipped with lights, mirror, computer, drink rack and 21 speeds, of which she uses about the easiest third.

Riding it does wonders for her strength, she’s noticed. She just feels good, and it has worked wonders for her back pain, she says. Everyone should try it.

After she and the grandkids began biking together, they rode the five-mile route at the fundraiser in 2006 and for the next couple years. Now her grandkids have gotten old enough that they’ve lost interest in Bike Shenandoah, but Bowman’s still at.

The route gets harder up north, on the ascent to Harmony Heights toward the cul-de-sac beside 91����Ƶ house. At the summit of a rolling hill on Park Road, Bowman gears down and accelerates. “Let ‘er rip!” she exclaims, leaning forward against the wind, topping out at 23 miles per hour.

She was nervous to be out on the bike at first. She says she’s been intimidated by a lot of the things she’s done in her life, like going to Harvard University, where she earned a master’s degree in Germanic languages in 1963. And she was intimidated about returning to Park View to join the faculty of what was then EMC, teaching Latin and German. But being intimidated, she says, is different than being unable – something she’s become more convinced of the older she gets.

“People shouldn’t make excuses for their age, because you never know what you can do until you try it,” she says. “Don’t back off of something just because it’s intimidating. Give it a try. Usually it’s not half as bad as you think it’s going to be.”

In its final half, Bowman’s route winds around the apartment building neighborhoods near Food Lion. All this used to be fields when Bowman moved here, at age 12, in 1948. When she was a girl, she lived on Chicago Avenue and took piano lessons in the house that’s now the , a home for prisoners transitioning to freedom. She rode her bike, an ancient, single-speed hand-me-down, up the Mount Clinton Pike hill to get there, zigzagging across the road when the grade got too steep. Park View has “changed dramatically” since then. It’s amazing how quickly the time’s gone by, says Bowman, now, decades later, traversing the same familiar terrain, again by bike.

Approaching mile eight, Lois makes a regular stop at the home of her sister, Ruth L. Burkholder, who lives along Park Road on the Virginia Mennonite Retirement Community campus. Lois drinks a glass of Ginger Ale. She usually gets to her sister’s place partway through Wheel of Fortune or Jeopardy!, and they chat for a minute, and then, she’s back on the bike, homeward bound, another nine miles in the books.

brought some 2,000 bicycling enthusiasts to “The Friendly City” as part of a five-day tour that began Friday evening, June 25, in Staunton, 25 miles to the south.

, a nonprofit organization that promotes bicycle and pedestrian safety, runs the annual tour.

Cyclists head out Park Road to byways of Rockingham and Shenandoah counties.

“This was a fun ride, not a race,” said Brenda Black, manager of Harrisonburg Tourism and Visitor Services in Harrisonburg. “The tour is designed as a recreational event, not fast-pace line riding. Cyclists came in all sizes, shapes and ages.”

Black noted that Bike Virginia travels the Commonwealth in cycles — “no pun intended.” Their last ride through Harrisonburg and Rockingham County was in 2004.

While many of the cyclists stayed in hotels throughout the area, between 850-950 took up residence Monday and Tuesday in a “Tent City” that stretched across the campus of 91����Ƶ.

More than 900 Bike Virginia participants turned the 91����Ƶ campus into “Tent City” for two night’s lodging. (Lindsey Kolb)

Departing from 91����Ƶ both days, bikers selected from a variety of “loop routes” of varying degrees of difficulty and rode throughout the scenic, rolling countrysides of Rockingham and Shenandoah counties.

Cyclists were invited to visit the downtown area, take guided walking tours and attend open houses at the with refreshments.

Monday night, held an event billed as “Bike Bash in the Burg” to showcase the downtown area for riders and community members. The celebration, which featured a welcome from , food and a concert by “Everyday People,” took place on the grassy lot near the on S. Liberty St.

Emily (l.), a first time Bike Virginia participant from Gainesville, Fla., reviews the day’s bike route with Jackie, from Norfolk, Va.

May group members ate breakfast and evening meals June 28-29 at 91����Ƶ. They held a talent show in Lehman Auditorium and watched an exclusive screening of Stephen Auerbach’s award-winning film, .

Wednesday, the bikers returned to Staunton for a finish line celebration.

“Overall, the event went well, considering how many people we hosted on campus,” said Lynn A. Veurink, assistant director of at 91����Ƶ. “It was rather chaotic at first, as people set up tents in the first shady locations they could find rather than checking in, but once we worked that out, things seemed to go quite smoothly. Our facilities, especially the University Commons, got a workout, and number of people expressed appreciation for 91����Ƶ‘s hospitality.”

Bike Virginia estimated the event brought $3.1 million dollars in economic benefit to the area.

Co-op location: in the basement of the Bible and Religion house on South College Avenue
Hours: Tuesdays and Fridays from 1:30-5 p.m. and Saturday from 12:30-2:30 p.m.

The Bible and Religion department house on campus has new occupants this year. 91����Ƶ’s bike co-op has taken up shop in the blue-carpeted basement. Peter Dula, who began the program, got the idea to start a bike co-op from one of his friends at Canadian Mennonite University.

The basement of the Bible and Religion house has been turned into a bicycle co-op that offers repair services to students. (Photo by Katie Landis)

Dula brought the idea back to an independent study class he is overseeing this fall. The class is made up of seven members who met several times to talk about the co-op and also work with local Harrisonburg bike activism, promoting programs such as the one-mile challenge.

The one-mile challenge encourages commuter cycling by challenging residents to make all trips less than one mile by bike instead of car. Class member Kaitlin Heatwole, junior, said that biking is "a great way to get around town – cheaper than cars, more fun, and more exercise."

Biking makes sense in the burg

Several places around Harrisonburg are close to campus. Red Front and Food Lion are both just a mile away from campus and downtown is only about a mile and a half. Heatwole points out that biking to get groceries is a great way to "accidentally" exercise while doing something productive.

When asked about cycling being a stereotypically male sport, Heatwole says, "Biking is much more about it being a practical part of transportation. I’ve biked to church, to Red Front, to restaurants downtown, all in jeans and a sweatshirt. Don’t feel like you have to keep up with guys, or with girls who have been biking for a while, going at your own pace is great!"

According to Dula, some of the goals of the 91����Ƶ co-op are to support students on campus who like to bike, and to encourage the growth of the number of students who bike. Joe Hochstetler, sophomore and one of the students working at the co-op, says that apart from encouraging biking on campus, they hope to create a space where people who want to learn how to fix bikes have a place to do that.

Membership affordable

The co-op currently has 15 members. Membership costs students $10 for a yearlong membership, $20 for life. Faculty lifetime membership is $40. Renting a bike from the program costs $50 but students get $25 back if they return the bike in good condition. The money is used to pay for tools and other supplies such as brake cables and grease.

The co-op volunteers will also teach students how to fix their bikes. Heatwole says, "The biggest thing about biking is that it’s something you feel comfortable doing, and can do it safely. If you drop by the bike co-op, the volunteers would love to talk to you about why they bike, tips for feeling safer on the road with cars, and ways to gradually improve your own biking skills."

More information

The co-op is located in the basement of the Bible and Religion house on South College Avenue. It is open Tuesdays and Fridays from 1:30-5:00 p.m. and Saturday from 12:30-2:30 p.m.

The last few weeks have been an exercise in contrasts for Lars Akerson and Jon Spicher, pedaling from barren ground to verdant, from sea level to nearly three miles in the clouds. They are in Peru now, six months, nine countries and nearly 6,000 miles gone from Harrisonburg, bound for the Mennonite World Conference, in Paraguay in July – an adventure, a spiritual journey, a fundraiser for other young people to attend the conference and more.

Lars Akerson and Jon Spicher pause for a celebratory photo at Abra Condorcenca (13,700 feet) late in the afternoon of their first full day of climbing through the Andes. (Courtesy Photo)

Spicher, an 91����Ƶ student, and Akerson, a recent graduate, spent most of May heading south along the Peruvian coast, through some of the driest deserts on earth. It was the most lonesome segment of their trip so far. The scenery was almost surreal, lunar, bare sand interrupted by dunes and taller, jagged rocky outcrops. The headwinds, the unending brown and the miles of emptiness all took a toll on the two bikers.

"It began to wear on [me]. It was the same landscape, the same scenery … straight roads for miles and miles," said Spicher.

At Nazca, after hundreds of miles south through the desert, their route took a jog east, and up, into the Andes. The straight roads turned to spaghetti, winding and winding and climbing. They spent the first night in the mountains camped beside the road. There was a new moon that night, Akerson said, and he saw more stars than he’d ever seen before. Up and up they went; they were relieved to see the color green again as they reached wetter altitudes, and to hear the sound of running water.

They gained 8,500 feet in their longest day of climbing, and once got about 15,000 feet in elevation; they spent another entire day riding through high grasslands above 14,000 feet, dotted with vicunas, alpacas, llamas and flamingo-filled lakes.

"The whole stretch through the Andes has been gorgeous," Spicher said.

Though they suffered some minor altitude-related headaches, shortness of breath, lethargy and excessive yawning, none of it’s been as bad as they’d anticipated. At night they started having to bundle up – a welcome change from desert heat.

At the end of May, after a week of climbing, they reached Cusco, the old capital of the Inca Empire. They paused there for a week of R&R, spending their time visiting an elementary school and a clinic and making other connections as they’ve tried to do since leaving Harrisonburg on a rainy January Tuesday.

Their trip seemed to naturally break into sections: make it to Mexico (check), then to Managua by Easter (check), then South America (check, after a flight from Panama to Ecuador, bypassing Colombia for logistical and safety reasons), then up the Andes (check) and next, finally, on to Paraguay.

"It definitely feels like we’re heading toward the finish line," said Akerson.

So far, so good, and no real mishaps yet. Spicher’s trailer sustained a glancing blow from a careless car in southern Mexico, which bent his rear wheel and took about 24 hours to fix. In Abancay, Peru, another car rolled through a stop sign and grazed Akerson’s leg. Their worst scrape occurred upon arrival in Cusco, when Akerson misjudged his approach to a slotted drainage grate in the road, steering his front tire straight down a front tire-sized slot, and sending Akerson tumbling over his handlebars. A passing ice cream vendor dragged Akerson to his feet; he and the bike were fine, and Akerson and Spicher laugh now when they tell the story – evidence that the worst so far hasn’t been all that bad.

Next, into Bolivia, east across the high altiplano, and down, down to Paraguay, where they plan to finish their trip in Asuncion by July 9.

Follow their progress online at .

91����Ƶ students Chris Erb, left, and Heidi Hershberger pass through Donalds, S.C., on their bike trip from Philadelphia to Comer, Ga.

91����Ƶ students Chris Erb and Heidi Hershberger passed through the Upstate Friday as part of a bike trip that is taking them from Pennsylvania to Georgia.

The two recently started their summer break from school this year by taking a four-day bicycle trip from the school in Harrisonburg, Va., to Philadelphia.

Both had signed up to be interns and volunteers for three months at Jubilee Partners in Comer, Ga., a Christian community that host refugees from war-torn countries such as some in Central America, the Middle East and Africa.

The two students decided to bike from Philadelphia to Comer.

“We didn’t want to drive. We wanted to do a bike trip,” Hershberger said Friday afternoon as the two traveled from Donalds to Due West.

Erb added, “We wanted to slow things down and meet people.”

The two had been riding for 12 days as of Friday and averaging about 70 miles each day, with their longest one-day ride having been 88 miles.

Erb tows a small bike trailer behind his bike with supplies the pair needs on the trip.

For most of the journey, the two have found places to camp for the night, except for a few times that they stopped in areas where their friends and family members lived. A few times total strangers met them and invited them to stay.

The two were on their way Friday to spend the night with some of Hershberger’s family members who live outside Due West before making the final leg of their trip to Comer, where they need to be by Monday.

Hershberger said she and Erb will be working with refugees from Burma to teach the group a bit about English, how to handle finances and American culture. The two also will be involved in cooking and child care.

“We’re not doing it for the money. We’ll only make $15 a week,” said Hershberger, a Georgia native, as she talked about how she had visited – but not worked at – Jubilee Partners last year.

She loved the people, commitment and lifestyle and wanted to help there this year, she said.

The friends said they won’t be able to bike back to Virginia because they wouldn’t finish up their work until the end of August, and they need to be back in time to resume college classes.

“(Erb’s) father is going to come down and visit. We’ll ride back with him,” Hershberger said.

By Andrew Jenner, Rocktown Weekly

It was the first Tuesday in January, cold and rainy, when Jon Spicher and Lars Akerson began pedaling south. In the 45 days and 2,000-plus miles since then, they’ve made steady progress, about five days of biking and two of rest each week, cutting a gentle arc across the Southeast, crossing the border in Laredo, Texas, and heading south into Mexico – Tamaulipas, Nuevo Leon, Coahuila, and now, San Luis Potosi.

They’re just hitting their rhythm, about a quarter of the way done. Spicher, a junior at 91����Ƶ, and Akerson, a recent graduate, are bound for Asuncion, Paraguay, where the Mennonite World Conference will convene in mid-July.

Biking through the towns hear Oaxaca, Mexico (Photo from the bikers’ latest blog on )

They’re riding to meet new people and see new places, to "strengthen relationships within the global church," to "consider ways of living the life-changing call of Jesus Christ in the context of a global church" (so says their blog), to raise $30,000 to help other young people attend the conference in Paraguay – part pilgrimage, part adventure, all by bike, slowly, heading south.

So far, so good, they say.

Yes, lots of people ask them what they’re doing and where they’re headed. Yes, they’ve encountered unexpected kindness and hospitality, and yes, they’ve had a bunch of interesting conversations. No, nothing really bad has befallen them, so far. Some tendonitis that troubled Spicher early on dissipated somewhere in Alabama.

They eat a lot of bread, and they drink too much soda (everyone in Mexico seems to do this, they’ve found; Spicher says he’s giving it up for Lent). They both got sick soon after crossing into Mexico, something fluish, and now they’re mostly better except for a lingering cough.

Their bikes – Spicher’s on a Surly, Akerson’s on a Trek – have performed admirably, especially since they found a friendly bike shop in Corpus Christi, Texas, that allowed them use of the workshop for a tuneup.

Before they left, they expected to camp about half the time, to cook on their campstove, to purify their own water. But thanks to the unexpected hospitality they’ve encountered, and pleasantly cheap lodging and food elsewhere, they haven’t really roughed it at all. They haven’t even taken their tent out of its bag since leaving Harrisonburg.

Biker Lars Akerson enjoys the hospitality of local residents during a recent stop near Puebla, Mexico (Photo from the bikers’ latest blog on )

They carry about 50 pounds of gear each. They are a few days ahead of schedule, which affords them the luxury of a leisurely pace.

"I’d say we take at least two days a week off," said Akerson.

"It’s pretty laid back," added Spicher.

San Luis Potosi by Mardi Gras. The halfway point in Managua, Nicaragua, by Easter, hopefully, and that’s about as far ahead as they’ll let themselves look, right now. Conceiving their trip as a series of shorter ones keeps them from getting discouraged.

"You can’t really think about Peru or Bolivia from Mexico," Spicher said.

Two thousand-odd miles down, a lot more than that left to go. South America still feels like a dream.

To follow their trek, visit their blog at americas.bikemovement.org/route.

Lars Akerson and Jonathan Spicher are well aware of the major challenge, risk and unknowns facing them, but they feel confident that they’ll persevere "with God’s protection and the support of family and friends."

A large group of well-wishers stood in the cold rain Tuesday morning, Jan. 6, as Akerson, 22, of Harrisonburg, and Spicher, 20, of Lancaster, Pa., left Virginia Mennonite Conference headquarters in Park View, pointing their 27-speed touring bikes southward. Six months and some 8,500 miles later, they hope to arrive in Asuncion, Paraguay, to attend two global church meetings.

The 15th Mennonite World Conference Assembly, set for July 13-19 in Asuncion, is expected to draw upwards of 7,500 people from North and South America, Europe and other nations. The event will be preceded by a Global Youth Summit, July 10-12. The first such gathering was held in 2003 in Bulawayo, Zimbabwe, and attracted more than 220 young adults from 28 countries. Akerson hopes that many more will attend this time.

It’s an adventure, certainly, but more than that the pair will seek to raise funds to help more young adults from other countries to attend the youth summit.

They’ll also engage individuals, Anabaptist churches and larger groups along the way, do much listening to others’ concerns and vision for the church, but they also anticipate doing service projects as they arise in keeping with the focus of the youth summit, "Service: Live the Difference."

They also worked with persons at Mennonite Central Committee (MCC), Akron, Pa., and with Mennonite Church conferences in setting up contacts along their route.

Lars Akerson (l.) and Jonathan Spicher ready their bike equipment before departing. Photo by Lindsey Roeschley

Akerson graduated from 91����Ƶ the spring of 2008, a double major in mathematics and liberal arts with a minor in Spanish. He was one of 10 recipients of 91����Ƶ’s "Cords of Distinction" recognition for significant contributions to the school and broader community.

Spicher plans to return to 91����Ƶ this fall as a senior biology/premed major. His biking venture will fulfill the school’s cross-cultural requirement, and he’ll receive additional credits for independent study related to the trek.

The first segment of the journey will include stops in Durham, N.C., and at Jubilee Partners in Comer, Ga. They’ll travel through Alabama, Louisiana and Texas and cross into Mexico, through Guatemala, El Salvador, Honduras, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, Panama, Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia and finally, Paraguay.

They’ve invited persons to join them for sections of the ride, for a few miles or several days.

They hope to spend time interacting with the 91����Ƶ cross-cultural spring semester seminar group whose time in Guatemala will coincide with the men’s travels. They’ll also visit MCC workers in various locations and Conservative Mennonite Conference personnel in Ecuador.

Asked about the weather uncertainties and risk and safety factors of this major trek across two continents, Akerson and Spicher gave knowing looks and remained silent awhile before responding.

"Our main concern is the last leg of the trip," Akerson said. "We’ll spend much of the last two months biking in elevations up to 14,000 feet above sea level."

"We will be vulnerable, but we’re relying on persons’ hospitality and intentionally depending on God and others for safety and protection," Spicher stated. "We’ve done some planning for contingencies but can’t anticipate everything that could happen along the way."

Akerson and Spicher mount their bikes as they head out of Harrisonburg. Photo by Lindsey Roeschley

Nancy Heisey, chair of the Bible and religion department at 91����Ƶ and president of Mennonite World Conference, called the pair’s impending venture both "exciting and scary."

"I admire the amount of energy Lars and Jonathan are putting into this journey," Dr. Heisey said, "but even more, I’m pleased that they are demonstrating a commitment to spiritual growth as well as the significant contribution they want to make to other young adults around the world."

The pair has set up an interactive web site () where they will provide regular updates of their journey with personal reflections, stories and photos. Anyone who wants to contribute to the fund-raising effort can do so at the same site.

"We hope that our journey will encourage and add to an intercultural conversation about discerning and living Christ’s call with integrity," said Akerson.

Added Spicher: "Biking together is a great relationship-building endeavor. I’m excited to have this opportunity for two-way learning with brothers and sisters and for spiritual growth."

The trip’s purpose: exercise, fellowship and fund raising for Mennonite Central Committee, Akron, Pa. The group spent three nights of the ride at campgrounds and one night at a lodge on the Skyline Drive.

Fourteen of the participants are 91����Ƶ alumni (l. to r.):

• Phil Helmuth, Harrisonburg
• Cliff Lind, Harrisonburg
• Emery Yoder, Harrisonburg
• Glen Lapp, Lancaster, Pa.
• Justin Shenk, Akron, Pa.
• David Martin, Akron
• Charity Shenk, Akron
• Paul A. Yoder, Harrisonburg
• Harry Mast, Broadway, Va.
• Jack Rutt, Harrisonburg
• Dayvid Graybill, Colorado Springs, Colo.
• Don Bomberger (foreground), Harrisonburg
• Gloria Rutt, Harrisonburg
• Mary Glick, Harrisonburg

Phil N. Helmuth, executive director of development and director of church relations at 91����Ƶ, rides in the bike tour. (Photo by Jim Bishop)

"The tour was a well-organized and -supported effort to tour with friends who share a passion for biking and for the work of Mennonite Central Committee around the world," said Phil N. Helmuth, executive director of development and director of church relations at 91����Ƶ.

The group raised some $10,000 that will benefit MCC’s peace work, including the Anabaptist churches in Columbia who have suffered a four-decades-long conflict in that country.

These churches and other MCC partner organizations provide food, basic supplies, counseling and job training to people who have been displaced by violence.

Photos by Jim Bishop.

With her foot encased in a plastic boot to protect her broken ankle, it takes Alicia Horst a few extra beats to make it up the stairs.

“I was on crutches until Tuesday,” she said, limping up the stairs. “I