consider how to go about this. As you said, homeless people often sell everything, even their cars, to get by. What if you don’t use any motorized vehicle during the journey? What if you make the trip on a pogo stick, or a scooter?” Ellis jotted notes, then shook his head. “Wait. Are those the contraptions with those obnoxiously loud motors?”
“I believe so,” Colin said.
“That’s out then.” He scribbled a note, then looked at Colin again.
He could almost see Ellis’s brain working to come up with a preposterous mode of transportation to keep public interest. “I may as well get my neighbor’s son’s tricycle to make the trip.”
Mr. Chapman’s eyes lit. “Now you’re thinking!”
“I beg your pardon, Mr. Chapman. I was joking.”
“Call me Ellis. And I’m not. Look at the attention you’d get if every day of the journey you use a different mode of transportation. One day a nonmotorized scooter—I bought one of those for each of my grandchildren one Christmas.” He laughed, obviously recalling something about the holiday.
“My sister broke her wrist using hers.”
“Maybe we should reconsider. We don’t want any injuries.”
“I don’t think we have anything to worry about. She won’t be joining us, and I had no problem with mine.”
“Good. Another day you could take roller skates. We need something to really catch the eye.”
Colin scratched his chin. Ellis had a point. “I’m not trying to be difficult, but are we talking from the east to west borders of the state? I’m game for a few different methods of getting there, to a limit, but I don’t think anything except bicycles are allowed on I-70 through the majority of the mountains.”
“We’ll have to work with the Department of Transportation on that.” He pressed his intercom and asked his secretary to connect him with someone in that government agency. A few minutes later he finished a discussion with the man and turned back to Colin. “Colorado Department of Transportation won’t even consider it on I-70, but they felt we could work something out going south to north. Not all of it could be on the interstate, but there are several sections where foot traffic and bicycles are allowed. If we contact this guy once we have a plan, he’ll push the permission through.”
Colin was impressed. They discussed the personnel needs for the project, how quickly they could pull it all together, and how soon to start publicizing. A lightbulb flashed on. “How about naming it the ‘Back on Track Relay’?”
“Relay? Oh, I see, not a relay where the people change with each leg, but one where the ‘event’ itself would change. I love it!” Mr. Chapman slapped Colin on the back.
“I think this is going to be my best moneymaker yet,” Colin enthused.
“Why don’t we guarantee it? How about if I double the pledges if you finish the trip without any motorized vehicle in a week?”
Double? He held out his right hand. “Deal.”
“Not so quickly. We need to iron out a few more details.”
Colin pulled his hand slowly to his body. “Such as?”
“I’d like my own crew, from the paper, to report every step of the way.”
A watchdog, Colin thought. That shouldn’t have surprised him, either, but it did irritate him. He felt certain God would provide for this project, he couldn’t start doubting His plan already. “Don’t forget, we do have some issues to iron out with the Department of Transportation, and I’m sure that the larger the procession the more problems we’re going to run into getting clearance,” Colin said.
“I’ll keep it small. One or two people, max,” Ellis said with a smile. “In the meantime, you’d better start training again. Who knows how long it will take CDOT to approve the highway permissions. I know they’ll move as fast as they can, but we need to be ready when it comes through. And, as you know, it would be wise for you to spend some time at the shelter to get to know the full scope of the project.” Ellis walked around his desk and offered a hand.
Colin stood, sensing their meeting was over. “I’ll be sure to make arrangements to do that,” he said, confident that he wouldn’t learn anything about the situation that he didn’t already know by heart.
Chapter Three
Pushing a peanut down Denver’s Sixteenth Street Mall was a far cry from walking across the state from New Mexico to Wyoming. Colin wanted to be prepared for anything.
“You’ve been on that cycle for almost an hour now. What’s the scoop?” His bodybuilder buddy eyed Colin suspiciously. “You’re not up to another of your harebrained stunts, are you?”
Colin rubbed the soft stubble on his scalp and laughed. He’d spent two weeks trying to figure out how to break the news to his best friend. Another week and he would find out about it, along with the public, and Colin would never hear the end of it. He may as well get it over with now. “Harebrained—no. Fund-raiser—yes.”
“I thought sitting in fifty-five thousand stadium seats had brought you to your senses,” Jared said, sitting on the stationary cycle next to Colin’s.
“My quads seem to have forgotten about that. And right now isn’t a good time to remind me. I’m already committed to the fund-raiser. It’s not even an option to back out.”
Jared laughed. “Right, like you would if you could. No offense meant, but you never walk if you can run. Never drive if you can ride…”
“Point made already.” He didn’t need to hear a full listing of the childhood pranks they’d pulled, not to mention the publicity stunts he was so well-known for. God hadn’t wired him to sit still, especially when there was something to be done.
Jared crossed his arms over his chest and groaned. “Seriously, Colin. I haven’t seen you here in a long time. You don’t want to overdo it.”
“I play roller hockey every week with no problems. Don’t worry, I’m feeling great.”
“So, how long do we have to get you ready?”
“I’m not sure. I’d like to wait until the temperatures are out of the hundreds, at least. September would be just about right.”
Jared looked at the readout on the cycle and shrugged. “Not a bad time for someone who hasn’t been to the gym in over a year. And what’s the cause this time?”
Colin hesitated, but knew he had to get ready to face the public with his support. “A new homeless shelter.”
Jared’s eyes opened wide.
“The existing downtown shelter has been over-booked for two years,” Colin said before Jared could expound on his reaction.
“Whose idea was the shelter?”
“Chapman Communications’s board. What could I say? He’s my boss.”
Jared’s almost silent click of the tongue confirmed that he knew Colin had really jumped at the opportunity. “You’re kinda between a rock and a hard place with the boss then, aren’t you? And I don’t suppose you considered…”
Colin ignored his friend’s dubious expression. “I’ll work through it. I’m hoping you’ll come along to keep me going.”
“Keep you going?” Jared said in surprise. “Just how far is it this time?”
He hadn’t added the mileage up completely, he hated to admit. “We’re still working on permission from the Colorado Department of Transportation, so I don’t have an exact figure yet…”
“The Department of Transportation!” Jared whacked him on the shoulder. “What are you