Some things need no introduction. Let's get right into our longest (and latest!) journal yet. 

Ride Overview

Mileage: 39.5

Elevation: 1,723’

Ride Dedication: You :)

Points of Interest: Mill Valley-Sausalito Path, San Francisco Bay, Alcatraz Island, Golden Gate Bridge Vista Point, Golden Gate Bridge (!!!), Fort Point National Historic Site, Crissy Field

Quote of the Day

tales of the trail

Waking up in the morning felt oddly new. For one, we were more bleary-eyed than usual because of the festivities that had kept us up the night before. More importantly, we were on the cusp of completing a journey we’d worked all summer to complete. Nevertheless, the team proceeded through the routine motions of packing our backpacks, making oatmeal, and loading the van as though it was any other day. Throughout it all, though, we knew this would be a day of many “lasts.” We would be carrying out so many of the little traditions we’d grown accustomed to — ride dedications, unintentional mega groups, morning circles, rest stops, and more — for the final time. 

In the spirit of looking back at everything we’d experienced so far, we went around in a circle and talked about our favorite stayovers and most memorable portraits during our morning activity. As we told accounts of the generosity, strength, and beauty we’d seen in the people and places of the ride, our words meshed into a kind of joint reminiscence. One thing we’ve taken away from this summer is that we all have our stories—the ones we confide in our teammates, the ones we hear from the individuals we meet on the road, the ones we keep to ourselves—and too many of them are intertwined with the tragic fight against cancer. So, traveling down memory lane together inspired our last ride dedication: you. That is, anyone and everyone with a story.

The team rolled out in the groups that we had been assigned on our first day of the ride, a fun little reversal of time that made for a meaningful ode to how far we’ve come. Today’s route was by far the most turn-heavy we’d had in a while. Instead of following the trusty monotony of the now familiar US-101, we hopped on and off busy streets and bike paths through suburban California. As we weaved our way through this infrastructural jargon and eventually made it onto the Mill Valley-Sausalito Path, we saw more and more fellow cyclists at what felt like an exponential rate. We passed everything from solo riders kitted out in the sleekest gear to colorful group rides that swarmed the main roads. 

The team arrived at the Golden Gate Bridge Vista Point after one last major climb, the site of many iconic I4K team photos and where we saw the Golden Gate Bridge in its full glory for the first time. Laying our eyes on the bridge was surreal. Its recognizable warm hue was shrouded almost entirely by gray fog, but that did not dampen the impact of seeing the structure reach over the expanse of the Pacific and point to our final destination. Once we crossed this short 1.7 mile stretch, we would officially be in San Francisco. 

Of course, we couldn’t set off until we’d gathered around in one last team circle. Michael, our teammate who said goodbye to us in South Dakota, surprised us with an incredibly touching card that he instructed us to open on the last day of the ride. As we read aloud his wise and eloquent reflections (fitting for our beloved Team Grandpa), tears already began to fall. We then did our group chant for the last—and loudest—time. 

One thing we were endlessly warned about before the last day was the actual crossing of the Golden Gate Bridge. As much as you would like the final stretch of a journey as big as this one to go smoothly, it is in reality quite stressful to navigate. The team rode in one big pace line (shoutout to 2023 ride leader Jonathan Yuen for driving SAV so we could ride as one last mega-group!) on a narrow two-way path, snaking through a tedious mixture of cyclists of all levels of experience, confidence, and speed. With extreme winds coming at us and a good deal of fog on all sides, keeping the bike straight and seeing anything was a challenge on its own. If you were to ask any of us our favorite callout at that moment, it would have been a thunderous and panicked “SLOWING!!!” 

The experience was unreal in the best way possible. Every one of our senses were occupied, whether by the cold fog or the incessant clanging of nearby vehicle wheels rolling over the bridge’s metallic surface. We felt like we were on another planet, rooted to the Earth only by the exhilarating knowledge that we were nearing the end with every pedal stroke. 

At long last, we emerged from the chilly mist. We met with Olaf’s uncle, a photographer who generously offered to take a couple of pictures for us with a clearer view of the bridge in the background. Much to the team’s delight, we caught a glimpse of our loved ones waiting for us at Crissy Field from the Fort Point National Historic Site sign. We waved and jumped and whooped at them (to which their endearingly tiny figures in the distance waved and jumped and whooped back), most of us having not seen our friends and family in person since the Midwest. Burning with anticipation and excitement, we went down our last descent and rolled into Crissy Field to a celebration unlike anything we’d experienced before. 

The field erupted with cheers and applause, and the team was immediately overwhelmed with the elation of seeing so many familiar and supportive faces. The pride in the air was palpable — we had officially reached the end of our indescribable journey, and, even better, we got to spend it with the people we cherish. As we settled into a happy whirlwind of photos, decorations, food, and loved ones, one fact shone bright in all of our minds: we did it :).

Addendum and Farewell

This endeavor would not have been possible without the massive amount of support we’ve received — at the risk of sounding like a B-list Oscar acceptance speech, many thanks are due to what feels like an endless list of awesome people. 

First and foremost, we want to thank 2023 team journalist Jonathan Boudreaux for laying the foundations of the work we did this summer. We cannot appreciate him enough for his support and kindness as we figured out how to do this at times difficult but always rewarding task, from his patient explanations of how to edit the website to the heartwarming Slack messages he sent us during the ride that motivated us to write day after day. Thank you as well to every member of the Illini 4000 Board, past, present, and future, for the work they have done and will do to make this incredible ride possible year after year. 

Thank you, thank you, thank you to all of our stayover hosts, Portraits, and beneficiaries. Another (and certainly not the last) thank you to everyone who helped us in any way — the strangers who donated to us in random parking lots, the bike shop employees who kept our trusty bicycles running, the people who attended our fundraising events, and more. The sheer amount of generosity we experience on this endeavor makes a direct impact on our cause, which is undoubtedly the most important aspect of everything we’ve worked to achieve this summer.

And of course, thank you to everyone that followed along with the ride. Every like and comment meant the world to us, and we are so incredibly grateful to everyone who came up to us at Crissy Field just to talk about the journals. We truly can’t emphasize enough how motivating it was to know people were reading along at home, sending so much love our way. Your support added an additional layer of gratitude we feel during a journey already filled with some of the kindest people we have ever met. 

Finally, to our teammates — Olivia, Lucas, Jack, Dylan, Kavin, Logan, Olaf, Michael, Claudia, Tommy, Anthony, Izzy, Joey, Neal, Emma, and Kev — thank you for being the best group of people to bike across the country with that we could ever ask for :)

Tailwinds,

Riddhima and Maaike

Maaike’s Closing Thoughts

An adventure like this leaves you with quite a bit to think about. I did my best to summarize my thoughts and feelings in an article I wrote for the Daily Illini (excuse my shameless plug), but there will never be quite enough words to accurately describe how a summer like this made me feel. I’ve gained an entire new family, a new perspective on our country, and endless knowledge and resources relating to the human battle against cancer. I am eternally grateful for all of this, and for having had the privilege of going on this journey.

Many people who stopped us along our route, or who followed along from home, told our team that we were “living out their dream.” This was always very impactful for me — who am I to be living out someone else’s dream? It’s incredibly rare to find the opportunity to bike across the country, especially at such a young age. I said in my first interview that I regularly feel like the luckiest person in the world to have the support I have. Biking across the country was not my accomplishment. This was the accomplishment of my beautiful family and friends, and every single individual who supported us along the way. This dream only happened with their endless love and help.

But what really drew me to fulfilling this collective dream was our cause. Early on in the ride, my teammate Emma talked about creating a more positive connotation for the word “cancer.” While it seems impossible to put something positive behind the word for such a terrible disease, cancer does bring people together. We saw entire communities rally to support us and the cause we biked for. It’s beautiful to see how people have met one another through their cancer journey, and how people's values and beliefs grow stronger and stronger when they encounter something so difficult. As the battle against cancer continues, we have to remember that not all of it is horrible. It brings us together in ways we didn’t know were possible.

To get all mushy (sorry Deems) — I’ve said it a million times, but I could not imagine doing this chore alone all summer, or with anyone other than the supremely awesome human being that is Riddhima. As you’ve all read, Riddhima is one of the most talented writers I’ve had the pleasure of working with, and I’m so lucky to have had her help and support in taking on this mammoth of a chore. Thank you for laughing at my terrible jokes and reminding me to take breaks. Here’s to many more epic high fives and a friendship that will hopefully last for a very, very long time.

With all that being said, let it be known that I love Dr. Pepper, the Marching Illini, being clean, and string cheese sticks. Thank you for following along on our journey. It means everything in the world.

Riddhima’s Closing Thoughts

It has now been a couple of weeks since the end of the ride (I am trying and failing to pretend the first day of the fall semester has not already passed), and I have spent much of that time typing and re-typing this first sentence in my head or on my computer. Saying goodbye to something as meaningful and substantial as Illini 4000 is hard. There are so many memories I want to recount, people I want to thank, and lessons I want to share.

In short, this ride has changed my life, both in ways that I anticipated and hoped for as well as in ways that were completely unforeseen but ultimately transformative. If there are any prospective (and hesitant) freshmen with a free summer reading this, I say take the plunge as I did — there’s nothing like a cross-country journey for an incredible cause to set the tone for the next three years of your life. 

It goes without saying that the journals would have been nothing without my incredible chore partner, Maaike. Thank you for allowing me to feel like it was okay to take a break, deliriously laughing through our incoherent interviews with me, and generally being an amazing teammate. You deserve a lifetime supply of mini gummy burgers. I could go on to write an entire essay of praise, but I’ll keep it short and sweet with something I know she’ll understand — Maaike, thank you for being Maaike. 

I also want to extend a thank you to my parents and my friends — your unconditional love and support is a privilege that I strive to never take for granted. And last but certainly not the least, thank you to Simone, my loyal, dependable bicycle that pedaled me past every athletic boundary I ever set for myself. I look forward to many more adventures together.

I went into this ride admittedly naive and inexperienced, and came out of it with a much clearer awareness of the American cancer experience. Witnessing the reach of this unsparing disease in such a hands-on manner taught me a lot about the often uncertain nature of existence. In that uncertainty, although frustrating and tragic, I’ve consistently noticed that resilience and goodwill almost always makes a hard-won appearance. The people who are touched by this cause are nothing short of remarkable, and they reflect on everything that makes life — and the relentless, nation-wide fight for it — worth it. 

(A reminder that any unfamiliar terms can be found in our handy I4K dictionary.)