I was tired. My legs hurt as I pedaled. My face had a layer of salt and dirt on it that streams of sweat trickled through. To be honest, I could have used a really cold beer. But it wasn’t about me. It was about Kerry, and remembering a man who I never knew personally but knew he was worth the journey we had all embarked on.

Kerry Kunsman, an avid bicycle advocate, teacher, engineer, friend and San Diego County Bike Coalition board member, was taken from us  in September when he was hit by a truck from behind. He was on his bicycle, touring the west coast of the U.S. from border to border (Canada to Mexico). Read his tour notes here.

The news came as a shock and devastation to his friends and family in San Diego. His loss was felt widely and the Bike Coalition had since been searching for the proper way to honor the legacy of a man who had spent so much of his life dedicated to making bicycling fun for everyone: from cross-country bicycle tourers to neighbors who wanted to learn about riding on two wheels instead of four.

Kerry’s Ride Home took place on December 13-14, 2014. I can’t speak much to Saturday, December 13 as I couldn’t make it that day, but Jamie tells me everyone met at the train station in San Juan Capistrano early in the morning and rode 44 miles to South Carlsbad State Park, where they camped for the evening. Burritos and beers were consumed, fires were laughed around and memories were shared about a man whose passion for bicycle touring remained contagious, even after he was gone.

Sunday morning I took the train to Solana Beach where I joined the second day of the ride. This leg of the journey was from North County to the Tijuana border – by far the furthest I’ve ever pedaled in one day. The gang barely slowed down as I hopped on, clipped in and caught up.

The ride was nothing short of beautiful. Our trusty group of 13 (and our fantastic support van) rode up Torrey Pines and through La Jolla, the beach towns and downtown San Diego to board the ferry to Coronado. Once off the boat we quickly found the Bayshore Bikeway (not before we got an ice cream for Britany’s cup holder) and pedaled through Coronado and into Imperial Beach. After a while Imperial Beach began to look different. We made a few turns and the roads felt emptier. Instead of businesses and storefronts we passed farms. Everything got quieter and the roads got narrower. We pedaled on, knowing we were closing in on our destination.

We didn’t stop once we reached the Border Field State Park. We continued onto a dirt road until we met a stretch of the road completely flooded with water. Five of the boys pedaled through the small river while the rest of us searched for another way; the buildings of Tijuana visible on the hillsides.

After watching the water get deeper and our friends get soaked, the rest of us got a head start back to Mission Brewery where we were all set to meet afterward. The sun began to get low in the sky as we pedaled the remainder of the Bayshore Bikeway through National City, Barrio Logan and eventually ending at the brewery a few hours later. Jamie, Jackie and I arrived first. Local media cameras greeted us and, more importantly, Kerry’s family. His wife and daughter had tears in their eyes. We rolled over to them and without putting our bikes down or taking off our helmets we wrapped them in sweaty, dirty hugs full of compassion and emotion. Hugs that said, “We did this for him. We did this for you. Thank you for letting us do this. Thank you for Kerry.”

The rest of the riders trickled in over the course of the next half hour and each celebrated the completion of a momentous ride. The entire sweaty mess of us kicked off our bike shoes to eat, drink and reminisce about the ride and what it meant for Kerry and all those who loved him. We laughed and cried and smiled at the thought that this was what he would have wanted. We talked about Kerry’s five bicycle tips to live by with our friend at the Union-Tribune, who turned our words into a beautifully written piece. Read it here.

As I said, I didn’t know Kerry. I didn’t even ride the entire weekend. But I do know his life was lived full of meaning and passion just from spending time with the people who knew him well. His memory will never leave those who he’s touched and his contributions to the bicycling community will be felt for years to come as we continue Kerry’s Ride Home as an annual tradition. Pain, dirt and sweat from a day of bicycle riding was never more worthwhile.

I couldn’t be more honored and humbled to participate in something so much greater than me – something that brought some ounce of happiness and peace to those experiencing the tremendous loss and grief of losing a man like Kerry. In the words of Andy Hanshaw, “Cheers to the end of a journey. A dream.”

*Note: Jamie completed the full weekend ride for a total of 130-ish miles. Her legs hurt worse than mine.