“I ride for freedom because this is my chance to make an impact on the progress we strive for.”

Committing to things is easy. I've lived the last six years of my life committing to everything I could. At times, far too much. That’s the way I like it. In January, Mike came to me and started talking about a big bike trip. Before he even finished his thought, I declared I was in. Immediately after it escaped my mouth, and after Mike finished his sentence, I actually came to the realization of what I just signed up for. This was a commitment more terrifying than others. If I committed to this, I couldn’t commit to anything else. I can’t say I’ve ever dedicated three weeks of my life to something like this before. But, here I am committed. No time for juggling, drumming, concerts, or building speakers. From July 5th-July 23rd, I’ll hit pause on everything in my life besides riding a bike. Actually, I won't be dedicated to just one thing (I figured out a loophole) because I decided it would be fun to record and photograph the whole trip.

Months have passed since that conversation and the idea of committing myself to the sole-goal of biking 1000 miles has grown into a sort of escape. Stress in my life has regularly made me think about how nice it would feel to, just for a little while, let go of everything. I’m not alone with the classic, “What if I just drive away, disappear in the middle of the night, and start a new life. Couldn't that be nice?” thought. I couldn’t actually handle disappearing. I have too many emotional ties, too much I look forward to, and too many accomplishments held dear to me. But, this bike trip is a way to get a taste, just a little 3-week taste, of a different life on the open road. This way will also have my parents worry about me less.

Since first volunteering at the Freedom Café, my life as a consumer has changed dramatically. I’ve gone from a kid who would scour Amazon to fit as many barely functional wing-wangs and thing-a-majigs onto that gift card my aunt gave me, to someone who spends tens of hours researching a single handlebar bag that is the perfect dimensions to hold my camera gear and has a good chance of being a functional piece of equipment longer than I will be a functional human (also made by a small progressive company in Oregon). I know I'm not a perfect conscious consumer, no one is, but I’ve improved and that sure feels nice.

I’m sitting at the cafe now, and writing this the day after Mike determined it “due”. I’m reading through last week’s blog from him on the left side of the screen and my document on the right isn’t getting any bigger. He told me I just need to write a conclusion. I was planning on writing a beautiful conclusion that intertwines all the themes of the previous paragraphs, or personifying a common house succulent like a cactus and have it symbolize the thorniness of my attitude and dehydrated actuality of my circumstances as I persevere on this trip for personal growth in the name of ending human trafficking. Maybe quote someone like Nietzsche to look wicked smart. But I've never been much of a writer so I don’t know how. I’ll just leave you with this. I’m incredibly grateful to be able to do this ride with such incredible people. Thank you for supporting us and you’ll hear from us again soon.

Here’s a link to donate and make RFF financially possible. After $4500, all additional donations go towards the Freedom Café’s educational program: Click Here to Donate

- Cole