When I think about why I’m riding for Pedal the Pacific, it’s hard to sum it up in just one reason. There are so many moments, conversations, and realizations that have led me here. But at the heart of it all, I ride to start conversations, to learn, and to be part of a community that believes in fighting for justice.
The first time I sat down and talked to my best friend Emma—who rode in 2023—about Pedal the Pacific and its mission, I had a moment of realization that I’ll never forget. Like so many others, I had a completely wrong idea of what trafficking looked like. My understanding had been shaped by media portrayals, sensationalized stories, and misconceptions that focus on abduction and stranger danger. But in reality, trafficking doesn’t always look like what we think it does. More often than not, it’s happening in plain sight, within communities, and even within relationships. It doesn’t always involve physical force; sometimes, it’s coercion, manipulation, or financial control. And most importantly, it’s not just an issue that happens “somewhere else.” It’s happening here, in the U.S., in cities and small towns alike.
That conversation shifted something in me. If I had so many misconceptions, how many other people did too? And if I could be so wrong, what else did I not know? I realized right then that I wanted to be part of spreading awareness, breaking down the myths, and helping more people understand what trafficking truly is. Because once we know the truth, we can start having real conversations about how to fight it.
One of the most beautiful things about Pedal the Pacific is that it creates a space for learning. There’s no expectation that you have to come in as an expert. You just have to be willing to listen, ask questions, and be open to growing in your understanding.
The more I learn, the more I realize how much work still needs to be done—not just in policy and law enforcement, but in everyday awareness. People can’t fight an issue they don’t understand. Pedal the Pacific gives me the opportunity to not only share what I learn but to continue learning alongside my teammates and supporters. It’s not just about raising money; it’s about shifting mindsets.
Another huge reason I ride is because of the community that Pedal the Pacific fosters.
Since I was a child, I have always been extremely extroverted. I thrive in group settings and love connecting with people. But as I grew older, I realized that belonging isn’t always a given. True, deep, unconditional acceptance isn’t something we always find in every space we walk into.
Watching Emma embark on her Pedal journey, I saw her find something rare—an environment that was radically inclusive, deeply supportive, and filled with people who championed one another. This was a group of people who weren’t just working toward a goal; they were lifting each other up in the process. They celebrated one another’s strengths, held space for one another’s struggles, and believed in the cause together.
That kind of community is powerful. It’s transformative. And as I saw it unfold in front of me, I knew I wanted to be part of something just like that.
Applying for Pedal the Pacific wasn’t something I did on a whim. It took time for me to build up the confidence to believe I could do something like this.
Riding a bike from Seattle to San Diego isn’t just a physical challenge—it’s a mental and emotional one too. It requires trust in yourself, in your teammates, and in the mission. And for a long time, I wasn’t sure I had that in me. But this year, I decided that I do.
I ride because I believe I am capable.
I ride because I am worth being loved, accepted, and championed.
And most importantly, I ride because the survivors we are advocating for are worth it, too.
