Day 31: Faith in the Headwinds

Sunday morning arrived, and the alarm sounded at 7:30. I hit the snooze button once…maybe twice…before finally convincing myself it was time to get moving. As I got dressed for church, I could already hear the familiar sound of the coffee percolator bubbling away in the kitchen. There’s something comforting about waking to the aroma of fresh coffee in a home filled with Christian fellowship.

Breakfast was simple—toasted bread with honey and peanut butter alongside a hot cup of coffee—but the sweetest part of the morning wasn’t the food. It was the time spent around the table with Jon and Linda. We could have talked for hours. Our conversations always seemed to circle back to the things that matter most: our love for Jesus, our families, and the mission God has given each of us through Christian Motorcyclists Association. “As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another.” (Proverbs 27:17). Every visit with fellow believers leaves us encouraged and strengthened for the road ahead.

They drove us to their church, The Crossing, which also serves as Birchwood Christian School. The morning message centered on the greatest gift ever offered—the gift of salvation through Jesus Christ. I couldn’t help but smile as I listened. That message is exactly why we’re on this 66-day motorcycle journey from New York to Alaska and back. Every mile, every conversation, every unexpected meeting is another opportunity to share the Good News. It’s amazing how God continually confirms our purpose. “How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!” (Romans 10:15).

After church we returned to the house, made homemade pizzas for lunch, and then reluctantly began loading the motorcycles. One of the hardest parts of this journey has been saying goodbye to people who were complete strangers only a day or two before but now feel like family. We exchanged hugs, snapped a few photos together, and thanked God once again for the incredible people He keeps placing in our path.

There was a brief break in the rain as we pulled away, but it was only enough to give us false hope.

We merged onto the Seward Highway, following Highway 1 south out of Anchorage. The road hugs the shoreline of Turnagain Arm, a breathtaking glacial inlet branching off Cook Inlet, famous for its dramatic tides, endless mudflats, and the powerful bore tide that races through its waters.

The scenery was almost overwhelming.

Towering mountains rose straight out of the water. Low clouds wrapped themselves around the peaks. The water shimmered beneath them despite the gray skies. I quickly reached over and turned on my GoPro, wanting to capture every second of the beauty unfolding before us.

Then the wind came.

Not just a breeze.

Not even the kind of wind we’re accustomed to riding through.

These were relentless headwinds that slammed into us like invisible walls.

Traffic was heavy in both directions—cars, campers, RVs, semis, vacationers—all sharing the only highway leading onto the Kenai Peninsula. I tucked myself as low as I could over my gas tank, trying to keep my helmet behind the windshield. Even with that, the gusts were so fierce I had to slow to nearly 40 miles per hour.

Through our Sena headsets I told Melvin, “I can’t go any faster. I’m doing everything I can just to keep the bike in my lane.”

His calm voice answered back, “Just ride your own pace. Don’t worry about the traffic behind you.”

Exactly what I needed to hear.

One mile at a time.

One gust at a time.

One prayer at a time.

There were moments when I had the throttle nearly wide open, yet it felt like the wind was actually pushing me backward. Sometimes the gusts shifted directions without warning, striking the motorcycle from the side like a heavyweight boxer throwing a punch. My entire focus narrowed to staying upright and keeping the wheels beneath me.

“God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.” (Psalm 46:1)

I quietly repeated that verse over and over inside my helmet.

Soon the rain joined the battle.

Cold sheets of water pelted us while the wind continued its assault. Every muscle in my body stayed tense. Every curve demanded complete concentration. I found myself praying constantly, asking the Lord simply to get us safely to our first stop in Girdwood.

Finally, the sign appeared.

We had made it.

Exhausted, soaked, cold, and mentally drained, we pulled into a packed gas station. Finding a parking spot felt like another victory all by itself. Once inside the café, I wrapped my hands around a steaming cup of coffee while enjoying a warm blueberry scone. Never has coffee tasted so wonderful.

God has a way of placing divine appointments exactly where we need them.

While we rested, we met a young couple, Avalon and Huston, along with their two young daughters. Their oldest daughter was named Hadley—the same name as my niece—which immediately made us smile.

Melvin reached into his vest and handed each of the girls one of our CMA challenge coins. As the conversation continued, we discovered Huston serves as a youth pastor. Before long, what began as a casual meeting turned into brothers and sisters in Christ encouraging one another.

Before we left, they gathered around us and prayed for our safety and protection over the remainder of our ride.

What a beautiful reminder that the family of God truly stretches around the world.

“Therefore encourage one another and build each other up.” (1 Thessalonians 5:11)

Refreshed in spirit, we climbed back onto what I had begun calling “the hang-on-for-your-life highway.”

Thankfully, as we crossed onto the Kenai Peninsula, the worst of the wind finally eased, and before long the rain began to let up as well.

By evening we turned onto Hope Highway and made our way to the home of Carney Joe, a friend of our friend Mark. We’d never met Joe before, yet he had graciously offered us the use of his guest house for the night.

When we arrived, Joe wasn’t home yet, but he had texted us to make ourselves comfortable. We unloaded the bikes, and I immediately decided I had absolutely no desire to ride another mile after battling those winds all afternoon. So I climbed onto the back of Melvin’s motorcycle, and together we rode the four miles into town for dinner at The Dirty Skillet.

It was the perfect ending to a challenging day.

Long wooden picnic tables stretched across the outdoor deck, each with a gas fireplace burning right down the center. The warmth of the flames, the cool evening air, and the peaceful mountain surroundings created such a cozy atmosphere. We shared crab cakes and fresh ceviche before finishing the meal with warm apple pie and ice cream.

As we paid our bill, another unexpected God appointment unfolded.

A gentleman noticed Melvin’s CMA vest and asked about the patches. That simple question opened the door for us to explain Christian Motorcyclists Association and how we’re traveling from New York to Alaska sharing the hope found in Jesus Christ.

He was fascinated and asked if he could photograph us beside the motorcycles. Judging by the impressive camera around his neck, I suspect he was a professional photographer.

His name was Nils, and he was traveling with his friends Nathalie and Bram, all from Belgium.

Melvin pulled out one of our salvation bracelets and walked them through the Gospel using each colored bead.

Gold—the streets of Heaven.

Black—our sin that separates us from God.

Red—the blood Jesus shed for us.

White—the forgiveness that makes us white as snow.

Green—new life and continual spiritual growth in Christ.

The two women were captivated by the message and immediately slipped the bracelets onto their wrists. It was such a beautiful picture of how God can use something as simple as a beaded bracelet to share the greatest story ever told.

“For I am not ashamed of the gospel, because it is the power of God that brings salvation to everyone who believes.” (Romans 1:16)

I asked another gentleman nearby if he would take a group photo of all of us. As he handed my phone back, he laughed and said, “I thought you all knew each other!”

We smiled and replied, “No…we just met.”

That’s how quickly God can turn strangers into friends.

When I mentioned we were staying with Carney Joe, the man introduced himself as Todd and immediately said, “Tell Joe I said hello.”

It’s amazing how small the world can feel when you’re walking in God’s plan.

Back at Joe’s place, he had returned home, and before long we found ourselves sitting together talking about life, Scripture, and our mutual friend Mark, who had insisted we stop and meet Joe.

Now I understood why.

Joe has a genuine heart for Jesus, and the conversation flowed effortlessly for hours. In Alaska, where darkness barely comes this time of year, it’s surprisingly easy to lose track of time. Fellowship with believers has a way of making the hours disappear.

Eventually we said goodnight. I spent another hour uploading video footage and writing today’s blog before finally climbing into bed.

As I reflected on the day, one thought stayed with me.

The strongest headwinds of the journey had not stopped us.

The rain had not stopped us.

The miles had not stopped us.

Because when God calls us to a mission, He doesn’t promise calm roads. He promises His presence.

“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you… When you walk through the fire, you shall not be burned.” (Isaiah 43:2)

Tomorrow’s forecast doesn’t look promising. Heavy rain is expected along the coast, so we’ll prayerfully decide in the morning whether to stay another day with Joe or continue south toward K-Beach Campground on Kalifornsky Beach Road in Kenai.

Whatever tomorrow brings, we know the One who goes before us.