She’s Worth it, and so are They!

Alice & Chick

On this journey, I’ve been thrown into situations that have accelerated my learning in ways I never could have prepared for. Some lessons have hit like gut punches, some have taken long stretches of reflection, and others have broken me down until all I could do was cry and let go.

One of the toughest struggles has been the opinions from others — people I thought were closest to me — who keep telling me that Chick will slow me down. They look at her wrinkles, her surgeries, her age, and they project weakness. They look at me and somehow don’t see my own trials, my own body, my own battles. They think it’s just her frailty that might weigh us down.

But I’m fully aware of Chick’s body. I’m fully aware of mine too. The truth? We’re in about the same shape. The only difference is that my body is wrapped in a younger meat sack, an illusion that keeps people from seeing reality.

So here are the questions I keep circling back to:

• Why is it that a woman pushing 70, standing in the last stretch of her life, is the one saying, “Let’s do this, no matter what it takes”?

• Why is she the one showing up, putting in the work, and saying yes to life, while others stand back and critique?

• Why should I push Chick aside based on outside concerns when she’s the one in the trenches with me?

The hardest part is that these doubts and judgments came from people I thought truly believed in me. Their support, it turns out, was smoke — hollow words spoken out of obligation. Words without action. And actions are what matter. My accountability has been to learn who’s fueling the smoke screen and who’s helping me clear it away.

Pivot After Pivot

Our plan — Chick’s, mine, and the whole Clearview Works team’s — has shifted more times than I can count. Every time we’ve faced a challenge, we’ve had to morph, pivot on a dime, and rework major plans in a matter of hours. Never with negativity. Always with: “Okay, we can’t do it that way, so let’s figure out another.”

This team knows each other’s faults and doesn’t avoid them — we work with them. That requires brutal accountability. But that’s how we move forward.

No, our path isn’t smooth or flawless. Hell no. But we don’t see obstacles as problems. We see them as opportunities to grow.

The Road So Far

• 2015–2016: I tried to set up an LLC to pursue this mission from a different angle. Life pulled me another way. I had to step back to adopt a child who needed care in our family, all while losing my mother.

• Early 2023: Clearview Works was established as a nonprofit. By mid-year, the first team fell apart. I was ready to quit. My Krav Maga instructor — the same one who encouraged me to go nonprofit in the first place — told me not to give up. At the time, I thought I’d just fund it myself and push forward alone.

• Nov 2023: Then I met Chick in a nail salon. I told her about my plan. She became the catalyst for the second attempt. We had deep conversations about the old team, about whether to keep the nonprofit route or strike out differently. We chose to stick with it — and that choice has carried us here.

• 2024: We formed a new team. Each of us took on multiple roles, because that’s what it takes.

• 2025: We started pushing harder. Every single one of us had to juggle personal lives, jobs, families, and still give time to this mission. I took a job at a gas station — not glamorous, not respected in the eyes of some — but it fits my hours. I’m off by 10 a.m. so I can get Chick to physical therapy, attend meetings, keep up with Krav Maga, and still make the miles needed for Clearview Works. I took a pay cut, cut my lifestyle down to minimal, and focused on gas money to keep moving.

People laugh. They ridicule. They say I’ve thrown away a “real career” to chase a dream they can’t imagine succeeding. The rest of my team has taken their own hits too — facing backlash from family, friends, acquaintances. But we’ve all let go of the noise and chosen to keep moving forward.

By the close of 2025, Chick and I will both be recovering from surgeries — her hip, my spine. We’ll be in physical therapy, praying we heal fast enough to be ready for the road in 2027.

The Years Ahead

2026: Chick and I will fully embody the face of this ride. We’ll live it out loud. Riding everywhere. Wearing the merch. Attending countless events. Building our base of supporters, funding, and sponsors in record time. Healing our bones while making ourselves visible. There won’t be room for FAFOs (and if you’ve read our early blogs, you know we’ve had plenty). We laugh about it now, but it was training for this next stretch. 2026 will be full throttle.

2027: The Freedom Ride becomes real. Fifty states. Five days each. Weeks in Alaska and Hawaii. A vow fulfilled.

My Sidekick, My Sister in Arms

I’m willingly, and sometimes hilariously, wrangled into being Chick’s certified death doula and PCA. It’s about preparing her body and spirit for this journey, while I prepare mine. We’re in this together. And it’s a team effort — Kevin calling us out, Jen worrying about burnout, Pete making sure we’re safe.

Yes, Chick takes extra care on the road. Yes, she’s my “sidekick.” But no more than I take care of myself. And at the end of the day? She is totally fucking worth it.

And so are they — our team.

The gratitude I feel for them is endless. Each one has chosen to lay their brick next to mine, to help build the foundation for this massive, beautiful challenge we’re facing together. Despite the ridicule. Despite the doubts. Despite it all.

She’s worth it. And so are they.