Moriah Wilson would have turned 27 today.
She would likely be deep into prep for Unbound Gravel, an event I couldn’t wait to see her race in 2022. I think she would have won — then and now. And if she didn’t? A deep and thoughtful reflection in her newsletter, and a plan for moving forward.
On Saturday, May 13, about 250 people gathered in East Burke, Vermont for another “would” — this one harder to conceptualize. What Mo would have wanted us to do.
One year and two days after Wilson was killed in Texas, her family and close friends hosted Ride for Mo, an event equal parts memorial, celebration, and fundraiser.
In the words of her brother Matt, it was a day “to be together, to honor Moriah, remember, give back to our incredible community here, and, to keep going.”
For those of us who only met Mo recently, the event offered a glimpse into her whole life, not just the one where she was a burgeoning professional cyclist. We gathered at the Wildflower Inn, where the bar, said Mo’s mom Karen, used to be a playroom where the kids could entertain themselves while the adults were at work.
We rode along the shoulder of Burke Mountain, where Eric, Mo’s dad, coached kids in ski racing, and where Mo became a ski racer.
We took our bikes down the gravel roads and singletrack that abut the homes of people who knew Mo when she was a baby, a little girl, and a teenager.
We cried, we laughed, and more importantly, we talked about Mo — which, in the impossibility of someone disappearing so quickly from earthly life, is one of the most meaningful things you can do.
Before we all pedaled away from Heaven’s Bench on Saturday morning, Karen shared an even more intimate glimpse into who Mo was, reading passages that she had underlined in the book “The Second Mountain.”
“She was reading a section about joy, and we want this day to be about joy.”
On her birthday and every day, may we all ride for Mo.