The presence of cyclists on the internet should come as no surprise to anyone. The internet has become a second home for folks of all types, many of them gathering in virtual space to discuss their passions in life.

Some of these “netizens” are more famous than others. Some are the pioneers, others are folks who write for online cycling publications, still others blog or have great podcasts that are high up on the RSS feeds or playlists when new episodes are posted.

Two of these net cycling celebs are going through some tough times. I don’t know these people at all, save for their internet personae. For both of them, their 2008 will not necessarily be what was envisioned when they sang to auld lang syne 126 days ago.

The first is Tim Jackson – the Masi Guy – who works for Masi Bicycles, has a great blog, and is one of the regulars on The Spokesmen Cycling Roundtable Podcast. Tim is a funny guy, and his outlook on life is almost always positive.

Last week, Tim was racing at a velodrome in San Diego when he crashed into a fellow racer while going very fast. He suffered severe injuries: fractured ribs, knee and vertebrae, major contusions and a concussion, as well as almost having one of his thumbs severed (it was successfully reattached). Thankfully, he’s recovering well, though it’ll be a long road to getting back on the bike and back to a normal day-to-day routine.

Elden Nelson – the Fat Cyclist – is one of the more prolific and gifted cycling writers on this planet. Furthermore, he’s from Utah, which makes it much more amazing (to me, at least – from a fellow Utah native who would know about the sorry condition of the school system there). Elden – or “Fatty,” as we all know him – writes about his adventures (or misadventures, more often than not), both on the bike and off.

Long-time readers of his blog know the story of his wife, Susan, and her battles against cancer. Susan has been an amazingly accepting and brave patient, a fighter for her and her family. Elden has chronicled her battles and victories against the disease for years. 2008 looked like a positive year for Elden and Susan: her cancer, while back, was doing well enough that she didn’t need to get another round of chemo. Elden planned for a summer of long bike rides with friends and big trips with the family this coming summer.

Then, a fortnight ago, Susan started to slide. She didn’t sleep restfully, and she started shaking uncontrollably. Her ability to focus on tasks waned, and her ability to navigate her own house was compromised.

Something was terribly wrong.

A visit to the doctor at the end of April confirmed the worst: the cancer was back, and worse than ever. Elden’s report is sobering, at best:

Susan doesn’t have just one tumor in her brain, or a few. “There are too many to count,” the Doctor said. “They’re scattered through your brain like dandelion seeds.”

It’s not what you want to hear. Elden summed up the situation thusly:

We haven’t given up. We’re not giving up. But I am scared.

His post the following day, May 2, was more moving, and must be read in its entirety to be appreciated. And if you’re at all like me, grab some tissues before you read it – it’s powerful stuff.

Yesterday, Elden went on a long, solo bike ride – partly to exercise, but mostly to exorcise the malaise that’s come down upon his family and life. It was a tough ride – the terrain he was riding is a challenge, made more difficult if you cry during the hardest part of the ascent.

By the top, the tears still flowing freely, Elden had to choose a descent path back to his house. And it is there that an amazing thing happened:

Finally at the top of Jacob’s Ladder, I began the singletrack descent. It starts out tricky, with granite jutting out of the trail, and lots of sandy gravel that makes it easy to slide out. There are lots of different lines, and half the fun of the trail is picking which you’re going to take.

By the time I got to Ghost Falls, I realized something wonderful. I wasn’t crying.

In fact, I wasn’t thinking at all.

The intensity of the ride had fully occupied my mind. For the first time since Susan and I had been to see the oncologist and learned we were out of options, I felt…not happy, but at least not all knotted up. Clear.

Right now, clear is good enough.

All the power to you, Susan and your children, Elden. From a Utah native to a Utah resident: I’m thinking about you!

And perhaps that’s why I ride: not only to keep my physical self in shape, but to clear my mind of the daily grind, of the things I choose to burden my daily existence. I can shake off bad work experiences, relationship frictions, allergies (endorphens from riding help, lemme tell ‘ya!), and even plain ‘ol funks, just by swinging a leg over my bike and heading somewhere.

Anywhere.

For Tim, it may be a while before he, too, can pedal into a temporary peace. For Elden, the peace of the bike is a needed friend. For me, it’s something I can’t envision not doing.

And while long-lasting peace – personal, global, whatever – may be out of reach, it’s nice to know that, at least temporarily, there’s something with two wheels that can take me there.

ETA: I second Elden’s voice here: thanks, Lance!