The Boxing Day Tsunami erased families.

It left a generation of children with impossible choices.

I recently heard the story of a grandfather who, amidst the rising water, had to choose which of his two grandchildren to carry up a tree to safety, and which one the water would take.

He survived.
One of his grandchildren didn't.
He carried that choice for the rest of his life.

That is the weight of this ride.

When the water receded, so did the international aid.

The trucks left. The donations slowed.
The world moved on to the next disaster.

But the need didn't leave.

So survival turned into a different kind of struggle:

How do you build a future when your past has been washed away?

Hands Across the Water was born in that mud and chaos.

It started with a promise to the kids left behind:

We will not leave you.

And for over 20 years, while others left, Hands stayed.

Today, that promise looks different.
It’s about choice.

The kids we support at Home Hug and the coastal homes aren't looking for handouts.

They're looking for the same thing we want for our own kids:

An education.
A career.
A future defined by their potential, not their trauma.

I am riding to bridge the gap between "survival" and "success."

It's my way of paying rent for the privilege of my own life.

The ride is hard.
But the decision to help shouldn't be.

Chris