Ride eases cancer costs, raises spirits

The Loreen Miller Bike Ride is about a lot of things. Community. Fitness. Raising money to care for cancer patients.

It’s also about love.

The ride, which celebrates its 12th anniversary this weekend, is rooted in a love story about Larry Halverson and Loreen Miller. But the romance that ended with Miller’s death has led to more stories of compassion and caring among participants and volunteers.

Even Halverson found love again on the sidelines of the ride.

While a student at Lewis and Clark High School in the early 1970s, Halverson had a crush on Miller, who attended Shadle Park.

He didn’t think a classy girl like her would like a jock like him, though.

Meanwhile, Miller had her eyes on Halverson, but she didn’t think the athlete would be interested in her.

Their relationship would have to wait 15 years. At age 33, they bumped into each other at a Spokane bar. Halverson was on his way home and, in fact, made it two blocks down the road before he turned around.

“I’ve been wanting to get to know this girl for years,” he told himself.

He approached her again and said, “You’ve got to give me a chance.”

She did. Six months later, they were engaged.

Within a week of Halverson’s proposal, a doctor diagnosed Miller with cancer and removed her left breast.

The couple delayed the wedding so Miller could undergo chemotherapy and have reconstructive surgery – she wanted to look perfect in her wedding dress, Halverson said.

But before they could announce their wedding plans, doctors told Miller the cancer had returned. It had metastasized into her lungs, back, skull, legs and bones.

She died on May 4, 1994, the day before her 39th birthday.

Halverson held the first Loreen Miller Bike Ride that August, attracting 12 riders and 30 volunteers.

The event has grown through the years, with 600 to 700 riders expected to turn out this weekend. One participant, David Wells, will be riding in memory of his wife, Karen, who died May 7.

The Wells met online in a Christian chat room in 1997 where they discovered a common interest in John Denver music and clocks. One of Karen’s best qualities, though, was her willingness to support David’s interests – like bicycling, he said.

“My first wife hated that I rode bicycles,” he said.

“I went from a relationship where I couldn’t do anything right to Karen, who was behind me so much.”

Wells, 48, only rode the course once before, in 2002, before cancer had returned to Karen’s body after a decade-long reprieve. That year, the ride fell on the couple’s wedding anniversary, but she didn’t mind him participating.

Cancer revisited Karen last fall. It metastasized to her bones, and by March, doctors told David there was little they could do.

He knows she’ll consume his thoughts as he trudges through the ride’s longest route, the 100-mile century course.

“It’s the best I can do after all the support she’s given me,” David said.

Although many of the ride’s love stories are tainted with sadness, there’s also room for hope on the course.

Race founder Halverson found love again in 1999, when a woman from his church began volunteering for the ride. Melissa Tyler wasn’t threatened by Halverson’s grief over the loss of Miller, nor by the time that he dedicated to the ride. Instead, she “saw the love he was capable of,” she said.

The couple is married now and their home contains reminders of Miller, especially this time of year. The garage is stocked with signs and other ride publicity that bear her name. Their truck has the ride’s logo on the side.

“Somebody asked me, aren’t you worried about that memory?” Melissa said. “I felt that this is someone who has learned and grown and made something good out of the pain.”

Halverson told Melissa she helped him move forward, while still honoring Miller’s role in his life.

“The heart has no limits on how much love you can have,” he said.