My Reflections on the Ride
I woke up, today around 8:30. Yesterday, I had finished riding 840 kilometers in eight days and I thought I deserved a sleep-in.

I had a small breakfast and put on my riding gear. It was drizzly and gloomy looking outside. I didn't care; I was in Montreal and I wanted to ride up the mountain I wasn't sure when I would be back this way.

Once I got on the quiet trails I finally got a chance to think. This is what I had been wanting to do the whole trip.

When I had first thought of this trip, my intention was to spend a few days in the saddle just contemplating my life without Victor and how it had effected me. I wanted to come up with the right combination of words that could put it all in perspective. Something that I could put a name or handle to. I wanted to be able to describe how it feels to lose someone very close and important to me and yet be able to save someone else's life; even if I didn't know them. Even if I would never know them. I wanted to be able to tell someone what it's like to be an organ door's family member.

I do a lot of thinking on the bike; I find it a form of therapy. Weekend mornings I ride for hours, sorting through all lot of things. Now I was grinding up Mount Royal doing what I love to do.

I cruised up the crushed gravel trail passing kids and tourists and dog walkers.

I thought about the ride. I thought about twenty years ago. I had flashes of little memories; some I will have forever. Different memories came at me from all directions; some recent, some very old. Some quite random and others closely connected...

My fellow rider, Terry; drifting out into the road outside of Picton, oblivious to the pick up that nearly plowed him into the ditch. Smiling, he continued yakking to our other rider, Grant, as the truck's driver cursed and mashed the gas pedal down.

I remembered Grant's sweet wife Lori. She's standing by her S.U.V. and the trunk is open. there's enough food for twenty and she's trying to wave, yell hello and take a picture of us all at the same time. What a dear! I'm so glad she was with us.

Grant Hagerty. His huge shoulders in our black and white jerseys. A double lung recipient, he had requested we silk-screen the nick name, "The Caboose" on the back of his jersey. He thought he would be behind Terry and I most of the way. I recall seeing "The Caboose" ahead of me for and awful lot of this ride.

Our road manager, Sabrina; locked out of her room and near tears with frustration. Earlier that day, I remembered I acting like a spoiled four-year-old and she simply waited until I stopped being a brat and calmly telling me where I had left the stickers I was blaming her for losing.

My best buddy and Victor's "Brother From Another Mother", Warren. His huge fingers reaching into the molten mess of poutine that I had to have when I got Montreal. He had to have precisely ONE fry and ONE cheese curd. It was like watching a crab tie a shoe lace. The only thing bigger that Warren's hands is his heart. He's a great, big, sweet guy.

Cynthia Mac Gregor. Forgiving my joke told in questionable taste and then thanking me for being allowed to help me on the ride. She had just finished her cancer treatments in March. While many people would be hiding under the covers, she was moving Heaven and earth to make our Montreal stop the huge success it was. A warrior.

My legs started to feel better. After even the few short hours since yesterday's ride, I was feeling a bit stiff and wanted to "wring" out my legs to keep them from seizing up. I clicked up a gear and pedalled a little harder.

I remembered the look in my mother's eyes on November 12, 1989. She was standing above her youngest son, who was laying in an I.C.U. bed. She was looking at me and it seemed she was beseeching me to make Vic better. To end his pain and hers. Her eyes looked like those of an animal in excruciating pain and I felt utterly, utterly helpless.

I remember my Dad saying it killed him to see his once over-active son, Vic, laying there "like a carrot stick".

And I also remember my Dad's eyes brimming with tears of pride when I rolled up to him on my bike as he told me how proud he was of me. He told me this yesterday, outside the very hospital where he had lost his youngest son twenty years before.

I remember a female police officer in Guelph. I'm looking out the window of the limo and we're following the hearse with Vic's ashes in it going to the church. It's bitterly cold and windy. She turned to us and smartly saluted. There were tears in her eyes.

Huntley Addie, Vic's best bud in Montreal. With his big grin, he was always a nice guy to me and when we had an impromptu ceremony yesterday on Ste. Anne de Bellevue, he was there. He hadn't aged a day. He still had that smirk and winning, easy going demeanor that he had twenty years before. I'm glad I saw him and he had brought Vic's other pal, Dave Bedard. We scattered water from The Victor Davis Memorial Pool around the spot where Vic had been struck on the November night.

The drizzle was getting a little heavier. I wondered if I'd made a bad decision. We hadn't had any rain on the whole trip and now it was starting up. I didn't wear much more than a cycling jersey. I hope I'd be warm enough.

We were outside of Hawkesbury, Ontario. It was gray and cool. We were fighting a stiff head wind and I was beginning to have doubts about the whole ride. I said to Grant, Why had I dragged these people out here? What was I thinking? Was this going to make any difference at all?

He smiled and looked over at me and said,

"We saved at least one life."

I stared at him.

"Greg, we've spoken to dozens of reporters, we've been to eight hospitals in seven days. Tomorrow, we'll be going to two more hospitals. We're going to talk to at least five more reporters. Of all the articles the reporters are going to write or air on the television news, at least one person will register to donate their organs. And maybe not next week and maybe not next year but someday, somewhere, someone will get the gift of life."

"We've saved at least one life, Greg. You should be proud of that."

I thought I had reached the top of the hill. The tourists were heading towards a pavilion. I rolled down to where the few tourists that remained were. I asked a stranger to take my picture with Montreal in the background. The city that Victor had loved so much.

Grant's words were still echoing around my head as I thought of Zoe and her mother. We had pulled up to Notre Dame hospital. We were immediately surrounded by well wishers, hospital staff and media. Everybody seemed to be talking at once. Finally I saw them. A tiny, tiny little girl in her mother's arms. I was introduced to Zoe.

Zoe had been in the hospital all day. She had received a heart transplant last year and it was time for her tests. She had been poked and prodded by a bunch of nurses and doctors and had a big needle poked in her arm and blood taken out. There was a bandage on her little left arm where they had taken blood from her. She was not happy. I didn't blame her. I don't like that and I'm a big guy. She was tired and hurt from all the poking and all she wanted to do was go home. Instead, she was surrounded by a bunch of noisy people and now a great big guy she didn't know wanted to talk to her.

She shyly hid her head in her Mama's shoulder.

I looked a Zoe's mother, Catherine. She smiled and said that Zoe was being shy. After a while, the hub bub died down a bit and Zoe found something she really wanted; a "balon vert".

I sat cross-legged on the grass with her and her Mama and we played with her green balloon. Catherine looked up at me and said, "Thank you for doing this, Greg".

I still don't have the right words I've spent a week and twenty years looking for but after meeting Zoe, it doesn't matter anymore.
After 840KM the team arrives in Montreal
By Greg Davis

After a few mistakes and a a couple wrong turns, we made it to our meeting at very cold and windy Confederation Park in Hawkesbury. A hardy Sherry Barton met us for a few words and some pictures.

We rolled into Ste. Anne de Bellevue around noon. I had arranged to meet Victor's buddy Huntley Addie at the spot we lost Vic. I was really glad to see that Vic's other buddy, Olympic diver, Dave Bedard came out as well. So nice to see him! What could be than better than Two of Vic's buddies helping me honor him?

It was a bittersweet meeting. Hunt shared what happened that last night with us and showed us where everything happened.

I had brought a container of water from Vic's pool in Guelph and I shared it with everybody that was there; Hunt, Dave, our riders; Terry and Grant, my road crew, Sabrina and Lori and I was joined by Cynthia MacGregor and her pal, Ijaz. We all stuck out our hands and I poured some on everybody's.

We then went to the very spot where Vic had been struck and after a moment's pause for reflection we poured it out on the road; and at Huntley's suggestion, on my bike's front tire. Nice....

Cynthia and Ijaz guided us down some breathtaking bike trails to down town Montreal. We passed canals and a squillion other cyclists on the way.

Then an infernal bee stung me! Undaunted I carried on. What luck would that be? Going into anaphlactic shock 4 K. from the finish.......

We climbed a few short hills and cruised past a beautiful park There were cyclists everywhere! This town knows how to treat its riders.

There are even B.C,'s; short term rental bike everywhere. for five dollars, you can get a bike bike, ride it to your destination, and leave it there. Then you go out to the special racks that the bikes lock to and grab another. How cool is that?

When we arrived at Notre Dame there was a crown gathered. Bridgitte and Manon from Transplant Quebec greeted us along with quite a few doctors and nurses from I.C.U. and the transplant section. Global TV spoke to us and so did The Gazette. My Dad and step-mom were there; I was so glad to see them. I know Dad was worried about me being on the roads. we never grow up in parent's eyes, do we?

I looked down at my cycle computer. It read exactly 840.0 Kilometers! Can you believe that?

The most touching was meeting little Zoe Bernard; a three-year-old heart recipient. She had been in for some tests and was a tired and a little shy. I presented her with a crystal heart that my manager Sabrina had picked out along with a couple of stuffed animals.

Typical of three-year-olds, she was happier with the green balloon she picked from the decorations. Kids like simple things.

After a few more talks to some organ recipients and the media, we headed over to La Maison de Cycliste where they had some yummy and nutritious snacks. Warren had joined us from Guelph and he liked the olive loaf.

However, I had been a very good boy for a very long time I was long over-due for some poutine. A short jaunt down the street and I had a small trough of deep fried cholesterol to go. Yum!

Tonight; a few beers to relax. I think I've earned them.
Dinner in Kingston

600 KM!
Taken in Brockville at the 600K mark.
Port Hawkesbury
The team arrives in Port Hawkesbury
Article in the Brockville Recorder and Times An article regarding the Victor Davis memorial ride was published in today's edition of the Brockville Recorder and Times. Click here to read the article.
600 Kilometers!
A cold and windy day outside of Ottawa. We stop for a congratulatory picture at the 600 K. mark. I originally had planned on a 560 K. route over 4 days. Funny how plans can change and evolve; in this case for the infinitely better! The extra K.s give us a chance to meet more people. It's all good!
Outside Smith's Falls
We had just left Smith's Falls; The wind turned into our face and got cold! But, we toughed it out and still hammered over 99 K. today.
Jocelyn Lovell - The Legend
We met legendary Canadian cyclist Jocelyn Lovell and Neil on our way back into Toronto on our day one ride. It seemed a fitting send off to have a "good luck" from THE MAN of cycling. It was my honor to have met him and I will treasure the memory of sitting in his back yard looking at the lake and listening to "War stories" of the glory days of Canadian cycling in the Seventies. I hope that future cyclists will learn about him and take inspiration from him and return Canada once again to being a cycling powerhouse. I know we can do it.
Pics from Northumberland Hills stop

Pics from Northumberland Hills stop

Pics from Northumberland Hills stop

Northumberland Hills Hospital newsletter The following was taken from the NHH Newsletter RAISING AWARENESS FOR ORGAN AND TISSUE DONATION On Saturday, September 12, our Hospital played host to a team of dedicated cyclists and supporters raising awareness for a very important cause: organ and tissue donation. Organized in part by Greg Davis (second from right in the photo above), the sibling of the late swimmer and Olympian Victor Davis, the inspiring seven-day event took the group from its starting point of Guelph through to Montreal . Sadly, Victor was tragically killed in that city in a hit and run accident. The ride marked the 20th anniversary of his death. Joining Victor’s brother on the trip was Grant Hagerty, a double lung recipient with a personal interest in supporting the cause of organ and tissue donation, and several local participants, including this very inspiring couple, Lorna and Lee Shooter. For Lorna and Lee, , the day was particularly emotional, as family and friends met them at the Hospital to cheer them on and honour those whose donation made a very big difference in their lives. Lorna’s heart failed during her pregnancy for Teghan and she received a heart transplant shortly after her daughter’s delivery seven years ago. Lorna cycled from Cobourg to Belleville with the group, accompanied by her husband and several friends. To register your consent to donate your organs and tissue, simply visit the local Service Ontario Health Card Services-OHIP office or Outreach Centre where health cards can be renewed. You can also register by downloading and completing a Gift of Life Consent Form from www.giftoflife.on.ca , and mailing it to the address on the form. If you’ve already signed your donor card, remember to register your decision so that this information is accessible in the event of your death. Finally, talk to your family and loved ones about your decision. For more on the Victor Davis Memorial Ride, and additional photos from the journey, just go to the event website at www.victordavismemorialride.com .

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Getting ready to go in Coburg

By adavis on 2009-09-15 07:47:41

The team gets ready to "saddle up".

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The Shooters

By adavis on 2009-09-15 07:46:26

This is Lorna, daughter Teghan, and husband Lee. Lorna is a heart recipient and kicked us around the hills outside of Coburg.  What a warrior!

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