Throughout The Road To Valour, riders joined me for many different reasons. Some wanted to support me personally. Others wanted to support Wounded Warriors Canada and the message of mental health for veterans and first responders. Still others were curious about bicycle touring and wanted to experience life on the road.

One rider, however, had a much deeper reason for joining me.

My good friend, Ehsan Ebrahimnia, certainly came to support me and the cause, and he was keen to learn more about cycle touring. But for Ehsan, riding The Road To Valour was also a way of honouring those Canadians who sacrificed so much so that he and his wife, Aida, could build a new life in a country that values freedom.

I first met Ehsan and Aida in 2019 during a project management seminar while I was studying at the University of British Columbia (Okanagan). Ehsan was completing a postdoctoral fellowship in thermal engineering, while Aida was finishing her second master’s degree—this one in mechanical engineering, adding to an earlier master’s in chemistry.

After the seminar we headed out for a couple of beers, and over those beers we became fast friends. It was then that I learned they had recently arrived from Iran – and planned to stay in Canada.

They had left the regime in Tehran in search of opportunity, but even more importantly, in search of personal freedom.  As we sat enjoying those beers, Ehsan quietly explained that simply sharing a drink in public was an act that could have brought serious (and painful) consequences back home. What was completely ordinary for me represented freedom for him.

Not long before Ehsan completed his postdoctoral work, Karen and I introduced him and Aida to another Canadian pastime—camping and cycling in the Kootenays.

While riding a trail beside Slocan Lake, I noticed Aida gently swaying side to side on her bicycle saddle. Curious, I asked if something was wrong.  Her answer has stayed with me ever since.

Nothing was wrong with the bicycle. She was simply enjoying the freedom of riding comfortably while wearing shorts, a sleeveless shirt and her helmet. In Iran, she explained, dressing that way in public could have resulted in severe punishment.

It was another one of those moments that reminds us how easily we take our freedoms for granted.

After completing his postdoctoral fellowship, Ehsan accepted a position with a startup company in Vancouver. Although Karen and I were sorry to see them leave the Okanagan, we knew our friendship would continue.

A few months later Ehsan called with exciting news. He was about to become a Canadian citizen – his Citizenship Ceremony was slated.  “Wonderful,” I said. “When and where? I’ll be there.” “Actually,” he replied, “it’s on Zoom because of the pandemic.”  That was disappointing until he added something that deeply touched me.

“Kelowna is the closest thing I have to home in Canada,” he said, “and you’re the closest thing to family.”  Rather than attend the Citizenship Ceremony alone, Ehsan and Aida came to our home to take the oath of Canadian citizenship.

It remains one of the greatest honours Karen and I have ever received.

Soon afterward, Ehsan accepted a position with an established communications technology company in the Ottawa area. Despite the distance, we have remained close friends, visiting one another whenever possible.  

During one visit we toured Parliament together, even though the centre block was under massive redevelopment, we visited the Senate’s temporary home and even got to sit in the gallery of the House of Commons while a debate was underway.  Back at their home, we talked at length about my plans for The Road To Valour.  He even offered to help raise funds.

Then, early in 2026, my phone rang.  “Would it be alright if I joined you for a part of The Road To Valour?”  My response was a very quick and resounding “Hell, YES!”

On June 23, Ehsan flew into Regina, where I presented him with his official jersey for The Road To Valour. He proudly put it on and was eager to begin his first cycle touring experience.

His introduction to touring wasn’t exactly ideal. Thanks to the campground price-gouging that I wrote about previously, our first planned campground was simply too expensive, so his very first night of “camping” turned into a motel stay.

Over the following days, however, Ehsan quickly adapted to life on the road. He soaked up every lesson about touring—packing efficiently, balancing the bicycle with front panniers, choosing the right equipment and even appreciating the value of something as simple as a sturdy kickstand.

But the greatest contribution Ehsan made wasn’t on the bicycle – it was through his story.

At every opportunity, especially during our visit to the Royal Canadian Legion in Virden, Manitoba, Ehsan spoke about why he had left Iran and what Canada had given him and Aida. He spoke quietly, sincerely and from the heart.

His words reminded all of us that the freedoms we often take for granted were purchased through the sacrifices of generations of Canadians who served our country.

For Ehsan, riding The Road To Valour wasn’t simply another cycling adventure.  It was his own way of saying thank you.

With Honour on The Road To Valour