“Her only ride was old mountain bike with a baby seat on it, and Sally Samson had never gone more than 20 miles.Then last Thanksgiving, she got a call from her brother Mike Kuhn in Chicago. He wanted Samson to accompany him on a six-day, 530-mile bike ride from the Twin Cities to Chicago in mid-July, to raise money for several Midwest AIDS service organizations.At first I said ‘no way,’ Samson said. Then I thought, it’s so far ahead that I can train for it.Though she was accustomed to physical exercise – power walking, kickboxing, whitewater kayaking – cycling represented something of a departure. So she spent the next few months riding a stationary bike, often attaining speeds of up to 20 miles an hour.Her first outdoor ride, in March, provided a rude return to reality.I rode about an hour and a half in the Fort Ward/Toe Jam area, Samson said. I thought I’d done at least 20 miles, so I measured it with my car. It turned out to be eight miles, which was pretty embarrassing.And I was really, really discouraged.She started working with a personal trainer, and her rides started stretching out. She found one 20-mile loop around Crystal Springs. Another good trek was the 45-mile round trip to Port Gamble. Eventually, she built up to 70 miles.The hardest thing became finding chunks of time when I could ride, said the 41-year-old mother of two children, Caleb, 7, and MaryAnn, 4, and wife of island developer Kelly Samson.A lot of times I’d leave at 5 a.m. so I was home by 8 or 9 and the kids didn’t really miss me, she said. And I tried to show them the bigger picture, that I was doing it for charity. Eventually Caleb got interested, and sometimes after I came home, I’d go out and ride another four or five miles with him. Then came a setback.Three weeks before she was scheduled to leave for the Twin Cities, she re-injured her back. Despite her trainer’s advice that she needed to do at least one century before the ride, she felt it was more important to stop and allow her back to heal.Not surprisingly, she had doubts about her ability to finish.I didn’t know how my back would hold out, and I thought that I might get too hot and miserable, she said. So I figured I’d have to have a ride in at least two or three times.She needn’t have worried, clocking in the upper half of the finishers every eveningI was so happy about that, but not competitive-wise, she said. I just didn’t want to drag down my brother.One factor may have been the Bainbridge hills, which had caused such discouragement that day in March.My brother is 6-4, just a big, strong guy. He was better on the flats, but I’d kill him on the hills, Samson said. I met a guy from Seattle during the ride, and we both laughed about what people from the Midwest considered hills. A lot of them walked up the hills, so I made up a lot of time there.On the other hand, the temperature was 95 degrees every day, with over 80 percent humidity.A fast paceThe ride began on July 9 in St. Paul. They did 85 miles the first day, then 102, 110, 105, and 75, finishing with a final 60 miles into Chicago.A fleet of trucks accompanied them, carrying tents, food and cooking gear, and personal baggage. Perhaps most welcome were the trucks equipped with shower stalls, sinks and mirrors.Our routine was the same at the end of each day, she said. Get our bags, see the chiropractors, eat, pass out.Then they’d get up in the morning and start again. Despite Samson’s fears about her back, it turned out to be relatively problem-free.I was never aerobically exhausted, and my legs were fine – the problem was my bottom and neck, she said. Even though I got a women’s cutout seat, there’s really nothing that’s going to help, though some people tried pretty indiscreet cures. Sometimes it was hell just to get back on the bike.But then I decided that I was going to be uncomfortable and just keep going. That was when I decided that I would make it.’A good job’About the same time, she had a revelation.I had been so concerned about being able to finish, that it was a while before it dawned on me what a big picture this was, she said. I started looking around and realized what a huge project it was. We had 500 volunteer crew members, a lot of them on their vacations, peeling onions, directing traffic, some even getting up at 3 in the morning to go out and mark the course. There were 75-year-old ladies scooping ice into water bottles.We’d ride for three hours and see nothing but corn. Then a little kid would come out and yell, ‘You’re doing a good job.’ That was sweet. So were the church ladies who’d give us watermelon and brownies.Moments like those helped sustain her during some of the worst stretches, such as the third day, the second of three consecutive centuries.That was just a flat day, she said. It was by far the worst, most tedious day. We even had to ride an extra eight miles because of a detour.But far more powerful in her memory were the good parts, especially July 14 as they finally rode into Chicago.They rode into a holding area at Lakefront Park and waited for everyone else to finish. Red, long-sleeved T-shirts were distributed, and everyone rode the last mile together to the closing ceremonies.That was really nice, and it dawned on me that I’d actually done it, that I was part of something that made $6 million, Samson said. One thing that I liked about the ride is that the money went to specific places, and it went out to them as soon as it came in. Teams from each of the charities came with us, and they all had stories about how the money was used, like buying a refrigerator for a family.Samson herself has raised $5,725 in pledges, well above the $2,500 minimum, and money continues to come in. Islanders can still contribute.I would do this again, she said. I’d like to crew on one of these and take Caleb to show him the huge scope of it, moving 2,000 people every day. It shows what everyone doing their part can do. “