An eyewitness account of Toronto's 2016 Distinguished Gentleman's Ride

If you need to raise a significant amount of cash to fund research and treatment, year after year, after year, you have to get creative. It's simply no longer enough to knock on doors and beg.

Getting it done means seizing the public's imagination.

Cancer is a thief, to say the least. If we are going to overcome, and we must overcome, it will be mankind's battle to win. If one doctor is to cure one patient, that one doctor will need to stand on the shoulders of countless thousands of our fellows. Men, and women, giving generously, to allow that one doctor, to cure that one patient. Mankind must rally to the cause. As Benjamin Franklin famously remarked "we must, indeed, all hang together, or assuredly we shall all hang separately".

The Distinguished Gentleman's Ride is the wind beneath that one doctor's wings, raising money to help her defeat prostate cancer.

My generous sponsors joined me to raise close to three thousand dollars to support the cause. I cannot thank them enough.

Rattling off statistics, posting a bunch of photos, some comments about the weather, the route we took, the things we saw, would be a workman-like ride report, but it wouldn't make you really wish you'd been there.

By 'there', I don't mean specifically the Ride in Toronto. By 'there', I mean the Distinguished Gentleman's Ride.

It is Toronto where I joined Paul, Hatem, Mark, Shelli, Ian, and more than 270 other riders who devoted the better part of their Sunday to ride for the cure. It is also Tampa, were Rob rode, and Boston where Larry rode, Salt Lake City where Michael rode, as well as Montreal, Houston, Vancouver, Sydney, Los Angeles, London, Paris, New York, and more than one hundred other cities all around the world where over fifty-six thousand riders took part, raising substantially more than three million dollars for the cause. That's what it takes.

Paul - Chief organizer of the Toronto ride	Paul in motion
Hatem sipping Tunisian tea	Hatem ranked No.1 in the Toronto ride, and as I write this he ranks No. 6 world wide having raised more than fourteen thousand dollars in sponsorship, with more on the way, a remarkable achievement. A native of Tunisia, Hatem is not only a capable fund raiser, he is a dapper and charming individual.
Mark - note the ascot and Edwardian shin wraps	Mark, ready to roll
Shelli enjoying the pre-ride pep talk	Shelli in traffic

To understand the Distinguished Gentleman's Ride, you need to understand why riders are so passionate about riding. Riding is a completely different way to travel. It takes special knowledge, arcane skills, a sense of adventure, a willingness to manage risk, and a significant investment in the machine and riding gear. The reward for your investment is that you get to glide along the road to your destination, flowing naturally with the forces of nature instead of fighting them, with paths that open where no car can follow. Riders are a relatively rare breed. We understand the appeal, and it unites us. Put another way, we are birds of a feather.

I have ridden tens of thousands of kilometers as a commuter, I have ridden thousands of kilometers in the company of dear friends, I have ridden on city streets, highways, bi-ways, country lanes, and dirt roads. Mostly I have ridden alone. Occasionally with dozens of other riders.

This past Sunday the Distinguished Gentleman's Ride was like nothing I have ever done before. It was a truly unique riding experience.

It wasn't just the 281 other riders who joined me that made it unique, though that number alone makes it very special. What made it uniquely appealing, uniquely outstanding, was the combination of classically-designed machines, and classically-dressed riders.

The theme for the Ride encourages participants to 'ride dapper'. Clothing makes the man, or woman, and it is so, so true.

We gathered on Redway Road at eight o'clock on a cool, sunny, Sunday fall morning, parked our bikes in a long, long row, and strolled in ones, twos, threes or more, chatting in soft tones as more and more riders rolled in.





There to admire were café racers, Triumphs, Moto Guzzis, Vespas, Beemers, Ducatis, Harleys as well as Ural and BMW side-car rigs.

We complimented each other on our French cuffs and cuff links, tweeds and flannels, vintage goggles, vests and bow ties, tuxedos, feathered dresses, tall leather boots, wingtips, spats, white silk scarves, caps, dress suspenders, military dress uniforms and even a kilt and highland tartan.

Once we set off, we knew we were a very special breed.

People stopped what they were doing to smile and wave their approval, often recording our passing, remarking on our finery, inquiring about the cause of our extraordinary procession. We set an example. As we rode along through the streets of Toronto, the unmistakable low bass rumble of hundreds of motorcycles reverberated along the route.

We gathered at waypoints with hundreds of machines lining the street.

We sipped espressos at El Almacen...
we savoured meaty sandwiches at the Cherry Street Bar-B-Que...

we enjoyed a Fast Times magazine party at the Steam Whistle Brewing Company and strolled the grounds of the Toronto Railway Museum.
In doing this we underscored the importance of taking a chance, of doing the right thing, of living out loud, of standing out, of making a strong unmistakable statement, and lending support for a global fight we really need to win.

I have never done anything like it before. I will do it again, next year.

You should have been there. It was wild.