Garage Dayz is a Permanent Fixture

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Direct to our Bike MS campaign: https://mssociety.donordrive.com/participant/Rogue

Other ways to donate (100% of the money goes to our Bike MS campaign. I pay all administrative costs): https://NeverStopNeverQuit.com/Donate

At the time, it seemed like a special event. A bonus ride piled on top of the annual bike MS excitement. 100 miles, one… more… time….

Slipping into my seat well before the sun’s first rays on February 17 will mark my six consecutive Garage Dayz century option. I can think of a better reason why I will ride every month in my justification for that first “one more time.” 

These are words I shared on September 30; they still stand true.

Never Stop… Never Quit…, for them

Renowned neurologist Rock Heyman practices out of the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center’s Multiple Sclerosis Care Center. In the Appalachian region, he has been the gold standard for over 30 years. I met with him in early 2001, in search of a confirmation or second opinion of my MS diagnosis. The US Army and the VA Healthcare System were my only points of reference. Expressing satisfaction with my diagnosis and treatment, he confirmed everything in my record from the prior 18 months. I left his office with one word of wisdom. He cautioned me to stay with the VA, as its continuity of care and tracking of my progression will be valuable when my MS gets worse. Without giving it much thought, except to “stay put,” I took his advice, enjoying the continuity of healthcare across four states.

Then my MS got worse… The full scope of Dr. Heyman’s consult struck me a few days ago.

Compared to last year, my symptoms have progressed, much as they have if I look back 2/5/10 years. The primary issues are weakness and debilitation throughout my left side. I fight its progression with medication, rehabilitation, diet, and exercise, having documented significant improvements in some areas. But, multiple sclerosis is an incessant ice pick. It will never stop. It will never quit. Two or three setbacks stack up against every improvement.

My dedication to fighting against the debilitating effects of multiple sclerosis only strengthens every time my body weakens. For them is my focus, even if that mission is circular.

This realization does not change my plan; it only strengthens my resolve. My September 15 report, The Aftermath of Bike MS, detailed why I overdo it:

“The longer answer is because it’s one of the things I can still do. I can’t run. I can’t jump. I can’t ride a bicycle. I can’t even ride my recumbent trike out on the street. I used to be left-handed, but it really doesn’t work anymore. I can’t snap my fingers. I can clap. I can’t lift my arm over my head. I can’t button my shirt. I can’t hold a piece of food and cut it with a knife. I can’t lift a glass of water to my lips. I don’t have enough control and coordination to consider myself right-handed, but I switched a handful of those skills to the other side. If it requires two hands, I probably can’t do it. What I can do, I embrace with as much grit as possible. I plop my body down in the safety of my garage and pedal at a hard, constant pace until the measuring stick says I can stop. I sit at my computer and share my story into a microphone that transcribes the words for me. The next infection I battle could make everything worse. The next fall, accident, or other injury might raise my debilitation to a whole new level. If I don’t face that challenge, secondary progressive multiple sclerosis will continue to chip away at my form and function. When I can no longer do those things, I will figure out another way to do those things. That’s the first reason I ride. For me.”

Like I said, for them is my focus, even though the mission is circular. I’m them.

My body is beat up and will worsen. I’m okay with that since it turned me into a damn walking (for the moment), talking, writing, riding billboard who can highlight the need for us to find ways to defeat MS before more of them suffer. Instead of asking for donations to support our cause, I’m going to ask for your donations while giving people a reason to say, “Look at what this guy is doing before he can do it anymore.”

My next Bike MS 100-mile Garage Dayz ride will be Tuesday, February 17. I’m already planning the date and logo for March. I’m going to do too much again for three reasons. First, there’s a good chance I won’t be able to do that same “too much” next year. The second reason is for all my friends who have already reached the point where they can’t ride. Finally, I’m going to take every opportunity I can to put my misshapen, disabled form out there with the message “Please donate to my fundraising before another generation is forced to make our fight their fight!”

This is why I ride.

Thank you for the motivation and support.

With love,

Kevin

This will make a nice tapestry when complete!

Because it is a fight.

The fight is not over and it won’t be over until a cure is found.

It will never stop…nor will we

It will never quit…nor will we

This is why we fight for them!

 

Never Stop… Never Quit…^®

Follow, Shop, or Donate Today: https://NeverStopNeverQuit.com

Perfection

On January 9, 2026, I became the echo of stories shared by warriors past. Using words given to me to describe undaunting determination in the face of unrelenting oppression, I challenged the West Point Class of 2027 to Never Stop… Never Quit….

Tradition.

The word is often associated with habits or rituals we accept for no other reason than “That’s the way it was done in the past. It’s tradition.” At West Point, the mind-boggling myriads of traditions we embrace are steeped in legend of past glories, lore of treasured rituals admired as part of our lineage, or newly discovered ways to strengthen our connection with graduates from past, present, and in the future (traditionally referred to as The Corps, and The Corps, and The Corps). This article could explore countless academic, military, and athletic traditions unique to or originated at the United States Military Academy. Stories of the march back, pinging along the inside wall, or spirit missions during my plebe year resonate with every Old Grad. Tales of spinning Sedgwick’s Spurs and Sosh Runs are academic milestones. Every tradition builds up to the final day, and that opportunity to throw your hat in the air when we hear, “Class Dismissed!” I could go on, but I would rather narrow my conversation.

In 1835, West Point began a storied tradition. 56 graduates marked their time at the Academy with a ring. Today, class rings are recognized across institutions and universities everywhere. They symbolize the connection between an individual and their alma mater while serving as a unique identifier for their graduating class. I still have my high school ring. In August 1992, I received my West Point ring: 14 karat gold with a diamond solitaire set in a black onyx. On one side, the West Point crest. On the other, my class crest. As the tradition goes, you wear your class closest to your heart (the inside side of your finger). When you graduate, you turn the Academy inward. I treasured my ring and the history it held.

On January 9, I bade farewell to my ring and tossed it into a stone cauldron, where it melted and mixed with 26 other rings into a solid gold bar.

Jamie and I flew from Portland to West Point to take part in the Class of 2027 Ring Melt Ceremony. It took three days to write this report, chasing words while trying to find the best way to describe the weekend at West Point. Over my 37-year connection, I have witnessed thousands of fantastic events; hundreds of storied occasions; a handful of memorable moments; and three perfect experiences.

Graduation stands atop that list. I’ve described my struggle with broken memories, but I have picture proof of smiles. The single instance I do hold is the weight of four years peeling away as I sat in the passenger seat while Vinny drove through Thayer Gate. According to the official register, I became graduate number 49,966.

Second, that Saturday afternoon in May 1993. The moment is etched in my mind, how I watched Brigadier General Robert Foley speak to a group of tourists. I shared this story in 2014: “Prologue.”

“They would never stop. They would never quit.” 

He repeated the phrase over and over as he shared examples of tactical, mental, and physical challenges many young graduates faced while leading soldiers in combat.

Needless to say, it was quite stirring.

General Foley gave me permission to tell that story. His words became my calling, then my mantra, Never Stop… Never Quit…. Those words became my mission, and now my nonprofit organization NEVER STOP NEVER QUIT. The idea started under the heat of military conflict before being forever tied to my battle against the debilitating effects of multiple sclerosis.

The third perfect experience was this past weekend. Every step of our mad dash, from our Thursday night redeye flight out of Portland, Oregon, through the 12:30 PM ceremony start, moved with tailwinds of fortune and favor. United Airlines Flight 1802 (the year West Point was founded) arrived at Newark Airport 30 minutes early. Airplane door to rental car was under 40 minutes. Traffic seemed to part every time we approached anything that could slow our pace. We were checked into the Thayer Hotel even before arrival, giving us a full hour to change and prep before the shuttle drove us to the ceremony doorstep. My escort for the event was a family friend from out here in Portland. Second Class Cadet Ryan Anthony had everything prepared well before we arrived. He guided me to where I should sit, reviewed when we would get up and go on stage, and explained what to do when I was there. All I needed to do was enjoy the experience.

The tradition of West Point’s Ring Melt Ceremony is not from a bygone era; it dates to 2000. The concept is beautifully simple. Graduate rings are donated, sometimes by the individual but most often by family members or other significant connections. Most donations are from deceased graduates. The rings, stripped of any stones or ornamentation, are collected in a stone cauldron. They are melted and poured to form a gold bar. Polished and presented to a class, the bar blends with the gold used to make their rings. Every cadet in the Class of 2027 will have a ring made from gold that includes mine and the 26 other rings donated. In addition to those rings, the gold bar includes flakes scraped from the previous Ring Melt Ceremony. In total, elements of 1,035 West Point class rings, dating back to 1896, are part of the Legacy Gold now included in the bar formed on Friday afternoon. I am forever graduate number 1,033 in that creation. Read more about the ceremony and the ring donors here.

Ryan gave me a subtle nudge when it was time for me to present my ring. He guided me toward the right side of the stage and held my arm as I struggled to climb six stairs. When the cadet speaker called my name, I moved to the center of the stage. Our rings were laid out on a table. Ryan prepared me for where my placard would be. I grabbed the stripped-down ring and placed it in the small stone cauldron as Ryan stood behind and presented a sharp salute. I lumbered to the podium and spoke.

“When I was a firstie, Brigadier General Robert Foley, Class of 63, shared words of inspiration and perseverance endured by thousands of West Point graduates before him. Those words became my mantra and became my mission. Now, today, I’m glad to send those words back to the Class of 2027: Never Stop… Never Quit…!”

Watch the video here.

As Ryan and another person helped me down the steps on the opposite side of the stage, I knew I was living my third perfect West Point experience. Applause and adulation, a few handshakes, then a kiss from Jamie planted that moment in my heart. Dinner with three of my classmates and our loved ones continued the day’s ecstasy. Other stuff happened—I think I had a cupcake at the event—but those parts are already fading.

Even if my damaged brain forgets the details, even when my specific recollection boils down to the video my dear friend captured, one word will always stand true.

Perfect.

Because it is a fight.

The fight is not over and it won’t be over until a cure is found.

It will never stop…nor will we

It will never quit…nor will we

This is why we fight for them!

 

Never Stop… Never Quit…®

Follow, Shop, or Donate Today: https://NeverStopNeverQuit.com

Figure 1: WPAOG. “West Point Class of 2027 Class Ring Memorial Program.” YouTube video, 1:33:29. Published January 12, 2026. www.youtube.com/live/d_CXgMu8j3k.

Figure 2: Conti, Justin. “2026 Ring Melt - Justin Conti-69.” Flickr. Published January 12, 2026. www.flickr.com/photos/wpaog/55031593662/in/album-72177720331352095.

Figure 3: Norton, Erica. “2026 Ring Melt-126.” Flickr. Published January 12, 2026. www.flickr.com/photos/wpaog/55032536301/in/album-72177720331352095/.

Figure 4: Personal Image. My ring.

Figure 5: Personal Image. West Point Ring Weekend with my mom, August 29, 1992.

Figure 6: Personal Image. West Point Ring Melt Weekend with Jamie, January 9, 2026.