Category Archives: ODDS AND ENDS


After completing my ride from Quincy to New York City (and before starting school), I had one big event remaining….none other than a meat raffle in my honor, which was held at my dad’s tavern in Hanson. I must admit that I am a meat raffle virgin, so needless to say,  I have never had one held in my honor before. When my dad first shared the idea with me about a month before, I was extremely humbled and excited. I immediately “got to work”  by inviting friends and family; and I tried my best to answer the most frequently asked question, “what exactly is a meat raffle?”

Because J & R’s crew members are so ambitious and thorough, there was not much for me to bring to the meat raffle other than some munchies, my raffle items, a homemade “Bike to Build at NBSS” sign, and  my multimedia project. The multimedia project was an adventure, to say the least. Suffice it to say, I never want to be a video editor because I cannot believe how much time Justine and I put in to compose this twenty minute montage of music and photographs from my Quincy to NYC bike ride. If someone saw us obsessively tweaking the music clips down to the fractions of a second, one might think we were fighting for a best picture soundtrack nomination at the Oscar’s. No, we were just preparing a video to be played at a local biker bar to a crowd of friends and family, and it was likely that the sound would be drowned out by the commotion from the patrons. Not unlike other projects of mine, we finished right at the 11th hour…but WE FINISHED.

My trusty administrative assistance/residence techie Justine got the computer and projector set up without a hitch, and we were able to play the video during the meat raffle. My first meat raffle was a success in many ways. Financially it helped increase my donations by pulling in $1500 for my tuition and for South Shore Habitat. Equally exciting and rewarding for me, however, was the way that my friends and family turned out to support me. I had a dozen or so friends and family who came to the raffle, stayed the entire time, bought more than their share of raffle tickets, and made my stomach muscles ache due to the chronic laughter. This was appreciated more than a simple thank you note can express, and their kindness will never be forgotten. Similarly, there was a whole crew of J & R’s staffers who came together and worked their tails off to make this event successful…and even made some very interesting donations to the silent auction…thanks Kurt!

In place of pictures from this event, I will share the Youtube video that Justine and I made to honor the ride….CLICK HERE FOR THE VIDEO! And yes, this video does break my Youtube virginity, as this is definitely a first for me. I was able to take some pictures at the meat raffle, but most are very goofy and unflattering; and my friends would slay me if they saw I put them online.  Instead, you will find two very benign pictures, including one of the cast of characters who made this meat raffle such a blast for me. Thank you to all who attended this event and made it so special!




Three weeks overdue for the Back ICU

To Donate to Liz’s Bike to Build Ride, click here

For those whose second language (or perhaps 3rd or more) IS NOT Facebook, I apologize for paying more attention to Facebook updates than to my precious “bike to build blog” updates the last few weeks. If you are not sure if you are FB-lingual, check yourself to see how often you’ve used words such as “newsfeed, liked, posted, commented, shared and tagged” recently. If these do not flow regularly out of your mouth, my guess is that you have not read my FB status updates ad nauseam about bike riding. Well, there is a lot to catch you up on then!

As a result, I have decided to break up the last few weeks of adventures into three to five “small” blog posts…rather than compete in length with War and Peace.  The first incident, which was noteworthy and anything but timely, occurred right after our week long dual destination vacation to Vermont and Long Beach Island. It was Thursday August 7th, and right around the time that the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge was going viral. I was nominated by my lovely niece Haley sometime that week; and although I did not abide by the 24 hour rule, I was not going to wimp out of this one.

Anyone who knows me well, knows I do not go very far without a beverage in my hand or at least at arms length, and typically it is a very cold beverage. For road trips, especially those over a couple hours, I generally bring a fairly large cooler filled with several bags of ice and far more drinks than is necessary. I mention this because this factors into my ice bucket challenge story. I chose to wait until I got home from vacation because I did not want to make a spectacle of myself while on the Coogan family vaca. We loaded up the cooler, which had about 5 pounds of ice in it, with an additional 16 pounds of ice before leaving New Jersey. This not only kept the sodas and waters at the perfect temperature for my liking, but it also provided a perfect prop for the challenge.

When we left New Jersey the temperature was probably 80 degrees, as it had been most days we were there; and by the time we arrived in Quincy seven hours later, it had dropped about 15 degrees. In other words, it wasn’t so scorching hot out that I longed to be doused by cold water. Nonetheless, I was challenged…and I have never been one to back away from a challenge. Being the neurotic person I am,  I wrote out the words I planned to say before doing “the challenge” because I did not want to mess it up…for it was not the type of video I wanted to do a second take on. I changed clothes so I was no longer wearing a white tee (gotta keep it clean), and I took the cans out to prevent a head injury.  I moved the 20 pounds of ice filled frigid water to my old trusty igloo cooler so I wouldn’t be hit by the swinging doors from the fancy new cooler…and I was ready to go. Justine got the ipad ready, began taping, and all went as planned…or so I thought. I read the script, announced my donation and people I was nominating, and dumped the ice and water over my head. The video came out well, I had a towel ready for me to dry off, and all seemed fine…that is, until the next morning.

I now have deep empathy for all the friends, family members, and acquaintances I’ve heard agonizing over “throwing their back out.” Suffice it to say that I had so much pain in my lower back the following morning that I could barely get out of bed . I attempted to bend down and take my dog’s collar off, and I could not even do it. All I could muster at that moment was to crawl to the couch and fall sideways. I definitely had some back pain from being hit by a car a few weeks before, but I had been bicycling and running since then. I was totally perplexed as to the cause…never giving the ALS ice challenge a second thought. It was not until showing my mother the video a couple days later, that light dawned on marble head.

This would not be a big deal if the injury occurred a month or two before. Unfortunately, I had a little plan to ride my bike 300 plus miles in seven days, and I did not factor “healing from a back injury” into my plans that week. I am notorious for being a bad patient when the prescription is REST, but in this case, I was willing to do absolutely anything to be free from the pain long enough to do my ride the following week. If I lived closer to Medjugorje, I would have been praying to the Blessed Virgin for miracles. I thought of turning to some new aged healing techniques, but I passed up the crystal chakra healing, channeling, and shamanic drumming and headed instead to a local Chinese massage parlor and then to a chiropractor.

The masseuse wasn’t the traditional Western young woman with soothing energy and a soft serene voice, and the parlor was neither aesthetically pleasing nor particularly sterile; but suffice it to say, this woman knew what she was doing. It was slightly unorthodox and not what I was accustomed to. There was no wind chimes or ocean waves playing through the Bose speakers and no soft pillow or comfy sheets to welcome my aching body. In fact, there were no “sheets” to speak of and nothing covering my body. I walked in to see a massage table that looked like a hospital bed with the crinkly paper sheet on top, and I was instructed to take my clothes off and cover myself with the yard of crinkly paper available to me, which could not have covered me if I tried. Uncomfortable? Initially yes, but I was willing to do anything. Anything? Yes, anything, even if that meant not giggling or questioning why the masseuse was jumping up on the table and straddling me while she was pressing her elbows into my back. Yes, anything, even if it meant not asking questions about the poles going across the ceiling to help the massage therapists keep their balance while they walked across the clients’ backs. Just get me better, I am at your mercy! After 90 minutes with ShaSha, I was not pain-free, but she did a great job loosening up some of the muscles that had knotted up in my neck, back, and gluteus maximus during my long training rides. My prescription from ShaSha was rest for the next 2 to 3 days, and I was more than happy to follow it.

My second provider consulted in the “back ICU” was Dr. Jessica at Whole Body Solutions in Quincy. The aesthetic experience of entering the office could not have been more different than the forementioned massage one, but it was equally effective. Dr. Jessica knows the skeletal and muscular systems inside and out, and offered me a treatment plan, which worked magically. She smirked when I told her I needed to be ready in seven days, and she urged me to ice and rest my back as much as possible over the next week. We had three chiropractic sessions that week, where she made “adjustments” to my back and neck, gave me ultrasound treatment in the injured area, and put me on a homeopathic cocktail of Relief-Tone and Ligaplex 1  twice per day. In total, I have seen her six times now, and the improvement in my back is remarkable. I cycled the entire ride to New York with very little back pain, and I have begun running again without pain. Sooo, for someone who was a little skeptical about chiropractors in the past, I DRANK THE KOOL-AID AND I AM A BELIEVER!

To check out the video of me tackling the ALS ice bucket challenge (and unknowingly injuring myself), click here.


To Donate to Liz’s Bike to Build Ride, click here




Hello Blog followers,

My sincere apologies…a concerned friend saw me today and asked, “How was the big bike ride because I didn’t see anything on your blog and was nervous something happened?” Mia culpa, mia culpa! I rested on the assumption that updating my social media sites obsessively for three days was enough to let everyone know the ride was successful. I had full intentions of writing an elaborate and comprehensive blog post about all of my adventures from Quincy to the Bronx in a colorful way on Tuesday or Wednesday this past week.

Unfortunately (and fortunately), I got sucked into doing another project (obsessively), which is taking a lot of time. Unbeknownst to me, my partner Justine had been working on a slide show of all the pictures of the blog, fundraising page, bike rides, etc. from the last several months…which was so sweet. Once I found this out and knew I wanted to get it finished by the meat raffle that my dad is hosting for me at his pub this Saturday, I jumped into it with both feet so I could update and finish it. I will explain more about all of this later in a post, which will be coming as soon as this meat raffle is over. Soooo, to make a long story short, sorry I haven’t written to share that I am still alive. Here are a couple of pics to wet your whistle of what is to come. Thanks, as always, for reading!


Day 1 Still standing Day 2 Aint that the truth Day 1 Weeee Day 2 warning for me perhaps Day 3 Fordham gates


If you would like to contribute to Liz’s Bike to Build fund, click here.

Having worked in and around the addiction recovery community for many years, I have often heard people say that if they wrote a list of goals they wanted to accomplish at the beginning of their sobriety, they would have sold themselves quite short because they far surpassed the goals they had for themselves. While this certainly sounded encouraging, if not inspiring to me; I did not believe this was going to be the case for me.

For the greater part of the last three years, I had written down only one goal. This goal was written literally in my daily journal, was sent silently and audibly to my Higher Power in my prayers, was said aloud to dozens of close friends and family members, was scribbled on small pieces of paper and put in my prayer box, and the successful completion of this goal was visualized hundreds of times. I had only one goal…and this was to get pregnant and have a healthy child.

If I sold myself short with this simple goal, one would think I must be like the old woman who lives in the shoe by now, who has so many children that I don’t know what to do. NOT EXACTLY. So does this mean I didn’t sell myself short? Definitely NOT.

The emotional roller coaster of early sobriety is comparable in some ways to the abrupt highs and lows of infertility because

  • your body is totally out of whack from chemicals
  • feelings fluctuate drastically by the microsecond
  • everything feels out of your control and yet you want to control everything
  • your mind plays tricks on you because one day you feel like you’ve had enough and are all done, and the next day you want to do it again just one last time
  • you feel like you are the only one going through this even though nothing could be further from the truth, and
  • the last thing you want to do is reach out to someone for help and yet that is the best thing you could do.

I would have to say the last year of infertility treatments was “my period of early sobriety.” Emotions had hit an all time low, and I was losing all hope of ever accomplishing my one goal of having a child. Equally as bad, I was losing all faith that I would ever be restored to the person I was before infertility. I no longer recognized myself because the happy-go-lucky, laid-back, and naturally optimistic shadow of myself had been replaced by her despondent, jaded, and resentful twin.

Flash forward a year or so to the present…and my one goal was not actualized…still no baby. However, I am not only back to the person I was before infertility, but I feel better. I have changed myself from the inside out over the last several months meaning that I have learned…

  • To not give up no matter how bad things may seem
  • That it is easier to let go and accept than to try to control and resist
  • That I did enough, I have enough, and I am enough
  • When I am so hyper-focused on my plan, I might miss my Higher Power’s Plan for me
  • As long as my heart is beating, I can learn and try something new
  • 40 is to be savored, not feared
  • When I reduce sources of stress and anxiety in my life, I feel closer to my Higher Power…and when I feel close to my HP, I reduce stress and anxiety in my life
  • When my mind is not weighed down with struggles and stress, I can accomplish great things
  • My body feels much younger and stronger when I feed it well, give it adequate rest, and exercise regularly
  • Losses can tear apart relationships or strengthen them
  • A problem shared is a problem cut in half, and
  • Service to others takes my mind off of me.

If you had told me a year ago that I would be 1) enrolled at North Bennet Street School for Preservation Carpentry for the fall of 2014; 2) administering a personal fundraiser to raise funds for my tuition to NBSS and for South Shore Habitat for Humanity; 3) writing my own Blog about my training, fundraising, and schooling; 4) getting into the best physical shape through cycling, dog walking and weight training than I have been in for more than 15 years; 5) networking with executives to try to spread the word about my blog and fundraiser; 6) sending letters to large corporations looking for sponsorship and donations for my cause; and 6) having an article written about this journey of mine in the Boston Globe…I would have told you that I wanted whatever Kool Aid you were drinking. Does that mean I would have sold myself short?


If you would like to contribute to Liz’s Bike to Build fund, click here.


, If you would like to contribute to Liz’s Bike to Build fund,              click here:

Hi, my name is Liz and I am a tweetaholic…it has been 21 hours since my last tweet. Dramatic projection or keen foreshadowing? IT REMAINS TO BE SEEN…

Last Friday, June 6th, I had a fabulous networking meeting with a good friend and a couple of wonderful women from South Shore Habitat for Humanity (SSHH). I am thrilled to be partnering with SSHH, as we share a common goal of bringing more attention to both of our causes. SSHH’s goal is to deliver simple, decent, affordable homes in partnership with families in need. My cause, Liz’s Bike to Build at NBSS, originated from a pure passion for carpentry and deep yearning to attend North Bennet Street School; and has blossomed into a solo, bike riding, dual-focused fundraiser to gather the money for my first year at NBSS and for South Shore Habitat for Humanity.

Ideas on how SSHH could help me get the word out about my cause were flowing readily in the meeting, and I could barely keep my excitement from pouring out. One of the ideas suggested, about which I am completely stoked, was for me to be the one to film the Ride for Habitat by carrying a webcam on my helmet or bike. The video will be used to advertise next year’s Ride for Habitat, providing I do not say or do anything so objectionable or outlandish that would preclude them from showing it and from ever inviting me back. JK of course, I would never! Lucky for SSHH, I will be on the videographer’s side of the camera, and therefore not able to jump in front of it too often…especially if it is attached to my helmet. You might see a “selfie hand wave” or two so I can make sure I get some air time, but other than that, I will do my job and film the picturesque ocean ride and hard-working and big-hearted volunteers and riders.

Being the enthusiastic and moderately compulsive person that I am, I immediately did a 55 mile “practice run” of the cycling route the day after our meeting. Then I spent a little too much time thinking about what cute cycling outfit I could wear on the day of the Ride. Did I just say the words cute and cycling outfit in the same sentence? Must have been a typo! Seriously speaking, I am pumped about the upcoming Ride for Habitat and humbled by the opportunity to wear the video camera. I am thoroughly looking forward to meeting other riders and volunteers who share a similar mission of helping people through building affordable housing. I hope to capture the essence of the wonderful spirit behind this ride because clearly there is a lot of love, sweat, and tears that go into putting together an event like this.

Before I exit, I would be remiss if I didn’t touch on the subject line and pictures included in this post. More than anything else that came out of my networking meeting, I left knowing that my “tweet free” days were about to end. The marketing director made it very clear that if I want to expand the amount of people who see my blog and/or who donate to my fundraiser, I need to get on Twitter and be active. Well ya don’t have to tell me twice. I assured her that although I don’t know a lot about Twitter and have never actually sent out a tweet, it would not be long before I become a well-versed tweeting fool…which trust me, is not something I longed for. I am the person who found it distasteful and incredibly annoying when I was watching the Voice (amongst other shows), and the Twitter comments from judges and audience members  were streaming across the bottom of the screen and interfering with my picture.

After the meeting at SSHH, I set off for home and thought about what book I was going to buy, remembering that I still haven’t read much of the Blogging for Dummies book and will probably do the same with Tweeting for Dummies….so scratch that. Then I thought about how my technically savvy girlfriend could bring me up to speed quickly with a Twitter 101 class, and then I remembered that she is not even on Twitter…scratch that too. My brain was sending make believe tweets full of ideas the whole way home.  When I arrived home, my plan of jumping right on my bike to go for a ride flew right out the window with the make believe tweets. Since patience and impulse control are not two of my greatest virtues, you may be able to guess what I did next. Of course I jumped right on the computer and opened up my dusty Twitter account and began loading pictures, following some of my favorite sports teams and actresses, and sent out a few tweets to the whopping three followers that I managed to accumulate through begging.  SSHH’S Marketing Director told me that building up my Twitter followers should be my biggest goal right now. So if you are reading this and are on Twitter, then please follow me here….and as long as you are a polite Twitter follower, no restraining orders will be issued! HAPPY TWEETING!

If you would like to contribute to Liz’s Bike to Build fund,              click here:


photo 1


If you would like to contribute to Liz’s Bike to Build at NBSS fund, click here.

I know death is inevitable and a part of the life cycle, but I really wish I could redo this morning’s walk with Hope because perhaps there would be one more free spirited squirrel scurrying  around tonight. The irony of the events of the last couple of days are unreal. Yesterday I wrote about my heroic rescue of Sam the squirrel in a blog post entitled, “Wearing Winter Hats and Saving Squirrels.” What a difference a day makes. One day heralded as a squirrel savior and the next day an accomplice to murder. Yes, that is right…my dog could be booked for 2nd degree murder today, as she accomplished her life dream of capturing and killing a squirrel, a goal she has been tirelessly working towards for the entire five years I’ve owned her.

The crime scene was a grassy hill about five feet off the paved path we were walking on in the cemetery; and the victim was completely blindsided and ambushed. It appeared the squirrel was playing a cat and mouse game with a bird because the bird was flying low right above the squirrel, who was running playfully through the field.  Unfortunately, Hope was in front of me with her leash dragging on the ground about five yards away. By the time that the danger registered in my brain, it was too late to grab Hope or step on her leash because she took off like a cheetah. When I looked around to see where the nearest tree was, I knew the squirrel’s fate was sealed because the closest tree was at least fifteen yards away. I didn’t need to look around the graves to get a clearer vantage point because I could here the shriek. I was afraid to look but when I did, I saw the squirrel in Hope’s mouth, watched her shake it…and I knew it was over for the poor unassuming creature who was just out playing catch with a feathered friend. Round 1 winner- Hope.

The complete predatory sequence was followed to the tee (eye, stalk, chase, grab-bite, kill-bite, and thankfully she stopped short of the last two…dissect and consume).  I was so frozen that I did not hit the button on Hope’s e-collar, which usually works to curb her bad behavior.  Instead I watched her come back towards me with the squirrel now latched onto her neck and Hope squealing a bit.  I didn’t know whether to run towards her or as far away from her as I could. Round 2 goes to Squirrel.

When I realized I was holding the e-collar remote in my hand, I began pressing it and shouting Hope’s name. Whether the squirrel’s bite loosened or she shook him off, I am not sure, but the squirrel found its way to the grassy knoll it was just running upon just minutes before. Now, however, it was laying on the grass appearing lifeless, with labored breath. In contrast, Hope pranced towards me as proud as a peacock, lapping the blood off her muzzle like a kid licking their last bit of ice cream on a summer day. Round 3- Hope won by knock out.

The emotions I felt were so raw and conflicted; angry at myself, upset at Hope, sad for the squirrel, and yet in awe of the whole Darwinian process. What struck me the most occurred when I looked back at the squirrel, and saw that his feathered friend had returned to offer him his Last Rites. Okay, perhaps I am being a little facetious, but not totally. The bird he was playing with returned to the scene with a friend and waited with the squirrel until he stopped breathing. I thought initially they were planning to prey on the carcass, but that was not the case at all…they eulogized him in their own way, only for about two minutes and then they flew off…and I realized then that I had just witnessed my first bird funeral.

If you would like to contribute to Liz’s Bike to Build at NBSS fund, click here.



If you would like to contribute to Liz’s Bike to Build at NBSS fund, click here.

According to Weather Spark, “the month of May in Massachusetts is characterized by rapidly rising daily high temperatures, with daily highs increasing from 61°F to 71°F over the course of the month, exceeding 84°F or dropping below 50°F only one day in ten.” 

Lucky for us, we experienced an anomaly this past week, as we had back to back “one in ten” days. I don’t know what the exact temperatures were, but suffice it to say I was donning winter water and windproof gloves, knit hats and multiple layers when biking this week. Since “they say” a picture is worth 1,000 words…

dressed for winter in spring


Thanks to my recent weight lifting and to my sturdy frame, I managed to hold the bike up the entire ride…and this was no easy feat because the wind was blowing me side to side without my permission. Fortunately, the wind and rain did not put a damper on me because I was wearing my Seirus all weather gloves and my most prized Sugoi Speedster 3 hoodie.  The elements did not affect my ability to groove and move either, as I put my wireless JBL in a ziplock freezer bag and in my back shirt pocket. If only I had windshield wipers on my Oakleys, all would have been right in my world.

As it turns out, conditions for me this week were far better than those facing Sam the squirrel, whom I found in a very compromised position a couple of days ago.

Stuck Squirrel

While walking my hound Hope Thursday morning, we cut behind the former junior high nearby and I discovered a squirrel stuck behind a chain link window-fence. As I got closer, I realized there was a portion of the fence which was open, but the squirrel’s frazzled state caused a temporary amnesia because he was scurrying without a clue of how to free himself. The closer I got to him, the more he huddled into the corner. Clearly, I thought to myself, “Sam doesn’t realize that I am a kind, gentle humanitarian who wants nothing more than to free him.” As I took my eyes off Sam for a second, I realized Hope was drooling and seizing with excitement because her tongue was anticipating a lunch of squirrel a la carte.  No wonder why Sam is pressed into the corner…perhaps he is appropriately concerned for his safety. Although my heart ached to leave, I decided to walk Hope home, and allow Sam to come out of his hypervigilant state for a few minutes.

When I returned on my bike about an hour later, I wasn’t sure if he would still be there, but I came armed with a granola bar nonetheless. The plan was to use the granola bar to coax Sam out of the corner and back into the real world again. I lined up pieces of granola bar in the fence, every few links leading towards the opening;  and I tried my best to persuade him of my good intentions. After several minutes of this, I realized the positive reinforcement approach was futile, so it was time for another tactic. I grabbed the closest stick I could find that was at least arm’s length, to stay clear of Sam’s claws. Plan B worked immediately, as Sam didn’t appreciate getting nudged from behind with a pointy object. Unfortunately, he did not stick around for the granola bar, so I left it in pieces on the ground in case he dared to return to the scene of the crime. Even if Sam did not return for the granola bar, it was all worth it! Scurry on little Sam!

Bad day about to get better.

If you would like to contribute to Liz’s Bike to Build at NBSS fund, click here.


Hingham through the spokes

If you would like to contribute to Liz’s Bike to Build at NBSS fund, click here.

It was love at first sight when I met Old Yeller’, which I affectionately named my Cannondale, at Bike Barn in Whitman, MA (which I don’t believe is still in business). I bought her after pulling in money all summer painting fences and cleaning my dad’s bar every morning. I was so excited and proud to have bought my first road bike, and I couldn’t wait to take it on the New York to Boston AIDS Ride, which I was scheduled to do a couple of months later.

As it turns out, the bike ride from Bear Mountain, New York to Boston wasn’t the biggest test Old Yeller’ would face that year. Before my friends and I had pulled out of the driveway to head to Bear Mountain, Old Yeller’ and a couple bicycle friends were seriously injured by a giant oak tree, which was shielded by the driver’s blind spot.  Three bikes were on a rear-mounted bike rack and Old Yeller’ was the last to board…but unfortunately, the first to greet the tree. Less than a month old, my yellow aluminum beauty didn’t have a scratch on it until then. So we got segued in Rhode Island and headed straight to a bike infirmary for some much needed intensive care. Old Yeller’ got two new wheels and some other minor adjustments, and the rest of the bikes were checked out and repaired…and alas, we were off to New York.

I am not sure exactly the time frame of that accident, but I would guess it was at least 15 years ago. Since then, Old Yeller’ has journeyed through many states for lots of different causes, and has never failed me. She has provided me comfort and familiarity, as my home away from home during work trips to Vermont and West Virginia where she brought me much needed mountain solace and incredible exercise. She has been my traveling companion, helping me to navigate my way through unknown streets while on vacation. She has earned me some dough and helped keep me safe when I dodged more than one crazy cab driver while working as a NYC bike messenger.  Most of all, she has been a constant therapeutic companion when I needed to thrash out some frustration or calmly cruise down a country road.

Old yellow checking out the Boston skyline

I would love to upgrade to a titanium Cannondale one day, but like my incredibly loving and loyal dog Hope (who is my “first” dog), there will never be another “first” like Old Yeller.’

unnamed (7)

If you would like to contribute to Liz’s Bike to Build at NBSS fund, click here.