Wildlife and nature

Animal shelters and rescues

Theater and dance

Rivers, parks and trails

Hunger and food

Schools and learning

Housing and homelessness

Community health

Mental health

Mentoring and foster care

Legal help and rights

Jobs and money help

Atlanta

The Triangle

Everywhere

The Collective Workshop

Royal Animal Refuge

Asian Americans Advancing Justice-Atlanta

Georgia Advancing Communities Together

Atlanta Writers Club

Cobb Collaborative

Bosleys Place

Jewish Fertility Foundation

Kevin Hicks

Ashley Scott

Programs

Collections

About

DAY 3 Ride — Thirty Was Her Plan 🚴‍♀️ Day three started in Saltillo, Mississippi, with a lake behind us and yesterday’s miles still living in everybody’s legs. Julissa knew her number before we rolled out: thirty miles. Not fifty. Thirty. And she didn’t say it like she was asking permission. She said it like somebody who knew exactly what she had in the tank. Little Kevin gave the whole morning report in one word: “Vamos!” Joshua was quiet-ready, which means almost ready but not interested in making a speech about it. Fifty miles were on the plan, and today’s fifty felt kinder than yesterday’s sixty-four. We started at 82 degrees, which in Mississippi almost counts as air conditioning. We settled into a paceline early. Joshua took the first pull. Little Kevin tucked in behind him, and the group found a steady rhythm around 17 mph. Then just before lunch, Julissa moved to the front. Remember, thirty was her number. But apparently that did not mean hiding in the back. She pulled the group smooth and steady, like she had done it a hundred times. That stuck with me. A young person who can say, “This is my limit,” and still lead inside that limit? That’s not weakness. That’s wisdom. Lunch was careful because yesterday taught us that overeating mid-ride has consequences. I told myself I had learned that lesson for good. Then the food showed up, and apparently I needed continuing education. 😄 The history stops hit different today. The kids asked to pull over and read the markers. At the Sunken Trace, we walked a path worn down by centuries of feet, hooves, wagons, and weather. History wasn’t behind glass. It was under our shoes. Final numbers: 15 mph average, 27 mph top speed, 3:23:43 ride time. Faster, easier, and steadier than yesterday. But the number I’ll remember is thirty. If you’ve supported Triangle Bikeworks, you helped fund more than miles. You helped fund a young person knowing herself well enough to lead. Julissa’s next thirty miles start with you: trianglebikeworks.org 🚴‍♀️❤️

Day Zero: Travel Day 6:52 AM. We should've been pulling into the office. Instead, we're still waiting on Julissa's street. By the time Julissa and Joshua are in the van, we're 37 minutes behind schedule. Not a disaster, but enough to remind us that even the best plans leave room for the unexpected. Kinney had spent the night in the r-pod so we could get an early start. The ice run went smoothly. The pickups took longer than expected. That's how these days work—you control what you can, and the rest unfolds on its own. Sam was waiting when we arrived. By 8:15, we were loaded up and headed for Nashville, Tennessee. Something happens on long drives. The nerves start to settle. Questions get asked. Conversations start. Joshua wanted to know more about the route ahead. Julissa watched the world pass by her window, taking it all in. Kevin bounced between music and conversation. The miles gradually turned a van full of anticipation into a team. That evening, Sam's sister and brother-in-law welcomed us into their home for dinner. Real food. Real chairs. A table full of conversation. The World Cup played in the background while we debated teams and predictions. For a few hours, we weren't preparing for a ride—we were just people sharing a meal together. I keep thinking about those 37 minutes. Not because they mattered. We still made it. We still arrived in Nashville by dinner. They mattered because they feel like a metaphor for the whole journey. You plan carefully. You lose time you didn't expect to lose. And you keep going anyway. Tomorrow brings the riding, the miles, and the challenges waiting down the road. Today was simply about getting there. Three young people climbed into a van and headed somewhere they've never been, trusting the adults beside them and the community behind them. That trust was built over every ride, every conversation, and every supporter who believed they were worth investing in. If you've ever supported Triangle Bikeworks, you're part of this journey. You helped put Joshua, Julissa, and Kevin in that van this morning. And there's a lot more road ahead. 🚲 Join us: trianglebikeworks.org #YouthDevelopment #BikeTour #CyclingChangesLives

February 22. Our annual Black History Month community ride. We roll through Carrboro and Chapel Hill celebrating being cyclists, the route, and the stories that shaped Black culture in our two communities. All ages. All levels. Just show up ready to ride. Details are Date: February 22 Time: 12:30 Where: YouthWorx on Main (117 W Main Carrboro) Distance: Less than 7 miles Mark your calendar now. Register at TriangleBikeworks.org choose events from the menu #TriangleBikeworks #BlackHistoryMonth #CarrboroNC #ChapelHillNC #BikeLife #CommunityRide

DAY 2 Ride — The Kevin Who Dropped Me 🚴‍♂️ Day two started at 79 degrees, which almost felt cool after yesterday. My legs did not agree. Today was 64 miles — my first full day of the tour and, if I’m honest, my longest ride ever. Before this trip, I had never ridden more than 20 miles in training. So yes, I was doing math in the parking lot and none of it helped. The morning went fine. Good pace, good legs, everybody loose. Then lunch happened, we got back on the bikes, and Little Kevin decided to remind me that young legs are dangerous. Same name, different engine. That kid played soccer before cycling, and it shows. He climbs like the hill owes him money. I tucked in behind him, trying to draft and save what little pride I had left. Somewhere on those endless rolling hills, he came around me, grinned, and asked, “You good, Kevin?” Coming from a teenager I helped teach to shift gears, that landed different. But in a GOOD way. 😄 Not long after, my legs started cramping and negotiations were over. Little Kevin rolled on at about 27 mph. I settled into what I call “still technically riding.” By the time I got to camp, I was done. Not tired. Done. But we crossed from Alabama into Mississippi today. The Natchez Trace is 444 miles end to end, and that state line picture felt earned. Camp brought its own entertainment: two guys trying to set up a ten-person tent might as well had been NASA dropping off a rocket ship and asking them to assemble it. We helped, which mostly meant giving questionable advice-advice built on experience, mind you. Later, bikers rolled through for the Fourth, and we learned cyclists and motorcyclists complain about weather about the same. That’s the tour. Miles, heat, strangers, stories, and young people showing you what your support built. If you’ve given to Triangle Bikeworks, congratulations — you helped build the kid who dropped me on a Mississippi hill. Help us keep crossing state lines: trianglebikeworks.org 🚴‍♂️❤️

DAY 6 "I'm OK With Not Going Further" Around mile 30 yesterday, Julissa's knees started hurting. Both of them. Before the ride, we'd packed knee supports in the van, hoping we wouldn't need them. Terry adjusted her seat. It helped some, but not enough. By mile 25, Julissa said she was done for the day. And honestly? There was nothing to argue with. Then something surprised me. Little Kevin decided he needed a break too. Up to that point, he'd ridden every single mile of this tour. No shortcuts. No easy days. No complaints. So when he said he needed to stop, I paid attention. Joshua kept riding. Seven more miles. Then, on his own, he decided it was time to stop too. Nobody told him to. He just knew. I've said it before: we're not just building strong cyclists. We're helping young people discover who they are, expand what they believe is possible, and learn to trust their own voice. Sometimes that voice says, "I can do more." Sometimes it says, "I'm not going further today." Both matter. I'll be honest. Part of me still wants to see all three of them ride every mile of this tour. That part of me had to sit down yesterday too. Because what happened wasn't failure. It was growth. Three young people listened to their bodies, spoke up, and trusted the adults around them to listen. That's worth celebrating. It's easy to cheer for a kid who pushes through something hard. It's just as important to celebrate a kid who recognizes when pushing through isn't the right answer. We're six days into this journey now. Tomorrow is "only" 47 miles. At the start of the trip, that sounded huge. Now everyone calls it a light day. And these three are crushing it. Every day they've stretched what they thought was possible. Every day they've done something they weren't sure they could do. We'll see what Julissa's knees tell us tomorrow. That's a question for tomorrow. For today, I'm proud of all three of them. Your support makes moments like this possible—the gear when it's needed, the flexibility to stop, and the trusted adults who pull over and listen when a young person speaks up. Help us keep showing up for kids on and off the bike.

DAY 4 Ride — Road Closed, Sam Still Pedaling 🚴‍♂️🏕️ Breakfast was in the motel parking lot this morning. Nothing fancy—yogurt, granola, fruit, and enough coffee to convince our bodies another ride sounded like a good idea. We circled up, talked through the day, and pointed ourselves toward 58 miles on the Natchez Trace. The days are starting to blur together out here. Bikes. Meals. Water bottles. Safety checks. Repeat. After a hot shower, clean laundry, and a real bed, today felt like a brand-new adventure. Sometimes it's the little things. The Trace was quiet and peaceful, and the miles were rolling by nicely until we ran into a road closure. Park Police looked at us and basically said, "That's as far as you're going." So we loaded the bikes into the SAG vehicle and drove the last 17 miles. No shame in that. Even adventures need a Plan B. Now let's talk about the kids. Everybody rode strong today. Little Kevin keeps amazing me. He might weigh 110 pounds soaking wet, but that kid can absolutely mash the pedals. Joshua stepped up too, staying focused and steady all day long. And Julissa? Another solid ride. She just keeps showing up and putting in the work. Now let's talk about Sam... the old white guy. 😄 Sam has been doing this ride for 11 years. At 79 years old, he's still out here pedaling in Mississippi heat. He rides his miles, hands things off, jumps into the support vehicle, and somehow makes it all look normal. It's not normal. It's impressive. I hope I'm still riding like Sam when I'm 79. Tonight we're camped beside another beautiful lake. It's quiet, peaceful, and there aren't many people around. Now if the crickets will stop holding their nightly convention outside my tent, I might actually get some sleep in my trusty home away from home. 🚴‍♂️😂 And once again, the best part wasn't the miles. It was watching young people grow, old riders keep inspiring us, and realizing every day on the road gives us another story worth telling.

Before you sit down with friends, family, and loved ones to count your blessings, I want to ask you to make one more blessing possible. We're 43 members strong of our goal to have 100 Cadence Crew members. Give $250 or more annually and get an exclusive Cadence Crew t-shirt as a gift for your faithful support.

Celebrate Black History Month with us—one revolution at a time! 🚴🏾‍♂️✨ Join our Community Bike Ride and honor the legacy, unity, and strength that moves us forward. Let’s ride together, inspire each other, and make history on every mile. February 22nd. Meet at Triangle Bikeworks at 12:15pm. Wheels rolling at 12:30. #BlackHistoryMonth #CommunityRide #TriangleBikeworks

Day 7: The Finish Line 🚴‍♂️❤️ The last day of the tour brought everything we'd come to expect: heat, determination, and a little chaos. Joshua rode like he knew it was the final day, attacking every downhill with Little Kevin right on his wheel. Their rule was simple: sprint the downhill, then wait at the top for everyone else. Joshua was all in. Meanwhile, Sam was convinced his tires needed air. He was right. Unfortunately, proving it involved slipping off the van's running board and tweaking his ankle. The good news: he was okay. The better news: his tires were actually 28 PSI low, earning him the title Prince of Cycling. 👑😄 The kids carried on. Julissa listened to her knees and wisely called it a day early. Little Kevin kept grinding with a knee brace. Joshua claimed the title of "only rider with no injuries" and rode accordingly. Watching them this week, I was reminded that the real victory isn't the mileage or the finish line. It's the growth. These young people crossed state lines, pushed through Mississippi heat, faced setbacks, learned when to push and when to rest, and discovered they're capable of far more than they imagined. That's a wrap on this year's Summer Experience Tour. Joshua, Julissa, and Kevin—I'm proud of every mile you rode and every lesson you learned along the way. Your support made every mile possible. Help us get the next group of young people on this same road next summer. Give at trianglebikeworks.org 🚲❤️ #TriangleBikeworks #YouthDevelopment #SummerExperienceTour #CyclingForChange #Leadership #BikeLife

DAY 5 Ride — Sunrise, Coffee & Buckets of Sweat 🚴‍♂️☕🥵 Today's adventure started in Kosciusko, Mississippi. Sam and I spent part of the morning trying to figure out where the name came from. Turns out it's Polish. Around here it's pronounced "Kos-See-Esko," and after a few attempts I almost sounded local. Almost. Little Kevin was up before the rest of us filming the sunrise. Kids notice things adults drive right past. The sky was putting on quite a show, and for a few minutes everything was cool, quiet, and peaceful. Then Mississippi remembered it had a job to do. Now let me tell you about breakfast. We stopped at Koty Earl's Restaurant, where a table full of good ol' Mississippi boys seemed curious about who we were and what we were doing. So I wandered over and introduced myself. Before long we were jawing—that's country for solving most of the world's problems before breakfast. They told stories about logging, pine trees, coal mines, and the good old days. I had to laugh because their good old days and my good old days weren't exactly the same thing. After breakfast we drove about 20 miles, unloaded the bikes, and headed toward Jackson. And the heat? Let's just say it wasn't regular hot. It was "why am I sweating while standing still?" hot. 🥵 Josh and Little Kevin absolutely put in the work today, riding all 58 miles. No drama. No complaints. Just steady effort. Sam pulled the front for the first 20 miles like he's done a thousand times before. Then Old Man Kevin took over. Father Time tried to catch him, but he didn't quite get there today. 😄 Tonight's reward is simple: air conditioning, a hotel room, clean clothes, and another chance to do it all again tomorrow. The miles are great, but the people are what I'll remember. The sunrise. The conversations over coffee. The strangers who become friends for fifteen minutes. The young people discovering they're capable of more than they thought. That's the real journey. See y'all tomorrow... same time, same Bat-Pedal Station! 🚴‍♂️😂

🎄 12 DAYS OF IMPACT: Day 1 What your monthly gift buys: RIDE SNACKS Ride snacks aren’t just treats—they’re fuel. On long rides, the body burns through energy fast. A quick bite of fruit, nuts, or an energy bar keeps the legs strong and the mind sharp. We tell the youth don’t wait until you’re tired—snack early, snack smart. We go through about 2 boxes per month. Every mile nourished is a kid who doesn't quit. Your $21/month keeps us ready for the next mile. We have Cadence Crew member spots in our goal to reach 100: [link in bio] #12DaysOfImpact #TriangleBikeworks #YouthCycling #BikeSnacks #HealthyRides #CadenceCrew #SnackSmart #SupportCycling #FuelYourRide

Even with 847 followers. Youth can still feel lonely. On a bike tour, there's no scrolling past someone's struggle. When Talib's tire flats at mile 40, everyone stops. Not out of obligation. Because that's what the group does. They have four friends who saw them at their worst—exhausted, scared, crying—and stayed anyway. Those friendships? Different than school friends. Deeper than online friends. From digitally connected to genuinely known. Community isn't found online. It's built in moments where you need each other and show up anyway. Create space for real friendships to form by volunteering or giving at www.TriangleBikeworks.org/ways-to-give #RealFriendship #CommunityBuilding #YouthSupport #FriendshipGoals #MentalHealthMatters #VolunteerTogether #GenuineConnections #SupportEachOther #LifeOnTwoWheels

#Health Today I’m thankful for health. yeah, I’m creaking a bit but I’m still getting up in the morning. For someone young, that may seem like being asked to get up early on a Sunday - same feeling. Sometimes we don’t take in enough of the small things with a tendency to focus on what’s due, who’s mad, who we’re mad at. I don’t have anything quippy to say. Just asking you to simply take a beat. Breathe in. Breathe out. You’re still here. And that’s something to be thankful for.