You should have known Phil Fowler. It's easy for us young guys to ride hard, but Phil rode hard clear into his seventies. Even the roughest old mining road didn't scare Phil. I saw him crash on several occasions and get right back up to ride some more.

Our rides sometimes went past the twenty mile mark, and there was Phil, chugging away harder than ever. He wasn't the most graceful of riders, but when you rode with Phil you had to be prepared for a long day. His favorite line was "Where are you taking me?!", delivered with feigned irritation. He never really cared, as long as we were still going.

When Phil got on his bike he became a boy again. The pains were still there, but he never brought them up. Even crashing and breaking his hip didn't stop him. Mere months later we were back to the usual marathon rides. He was truly amazing, and an inspiration to us all.

Phil crashed once too often and now he is no more, but he left us while doing what he loved. By the mercy of God, Phil's last crash was very quick, and he did not suffer. His greatest fear was the approaching time when he could no longer ride, but now that time will never come.

Whenever I ride, I will see Phil there, perhaps working along a distant ridgeline.
Have a good one, Phil...