All the Way to Lincoln Way, a book by Bill Roe

Introduction:

I didn’t wake up one morning and decide to ride my bike from San Francisco to New York City. Strange as it sounds, I would have to trace the beginnings of my 1999 bike trip back to Palo Alto, California and a fateful September day in 1965.

I had rolled up to the Stanford campus in my white ‘57 Ford and dropped by the housing office at the Graduate School of Business. Ken Howell, another first year student, walked in about the same time. We soon agreed to be roommates. That evening at the Oasis, a student pub, Ken and I found Paul Makley drinking a beer and invited him to become the third member of our apartment-hunting team. You make a million decisions that mean nothing, then one day you agree to share an apartment with two other guys and it changes your life.

Ken had the most important role to play: he introduced me to his girlfriend, Nancy Whitcombe. When Ken and Nancy broke up, Nancy and I began dating. We fell in love and were married in 1968, returning to her hometown of Davis, California, one of our nation’s premier bicycle towns. I joined her brother John building custom houses. A few months later Paul Makley, my old roommate, joined our company and the three of us have been partners for nearly thirty years.

Was it destiny that brought us all together? I have often wondered how different my life would have been had Ken and I not arrived at the housing office together. I also wonder if I would have decided to ride a bike across the country if I had ended up living in Houston, for instance.

At first, Nancy was not convinced that the bike trip was a good idea. But, she finally agreed to come along, learning to drive a twenty-four foot motor home that carried our gear, serving as both a sag wagon and our home. She decided that my chances of surviving a 3,300 mile odyssey were improved if I didn’t have to attempt it alone. Her support—both practical and emotional—was critical throughout the entire trip. She rode to my rescue many times, saving me from hail storms, lightning, flat tires, and sagging spirits.

Thanks, Nancy. The journey would not have been complete without you.