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“We biked through wind, rain, and snow. If lightning struck, we kept going. We only stopped if it got too close. We outran tornadoes in Oklahoma. We waited out a storm in an old horse barn in Montana, huddled like penguins, our bikes cast carelessly aside in the mud,” writes John Flynn. After John lost his mom to cancer, he biked with a group of friends from Texas to Alaska to try to find her again-- in the mountains, the rivers, and the solitude of the open road.
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“We biked through wind, rain, and snow. If lightning struck, we kept going. We only stopped if it got too close. We outran tornadoes in Oklahoma. We waited out a storm in an old horse barn in Montana, huddled like penguins, our bikes cast carelessly aside in the mud,” writes John Flynn. After John lost his mom to cancer, he biked with a group of friends from Texas to Alaska to try to find her again-- in the mountains, the rivers, and the solitude of the open road.
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