Long Island men bike 3,900-mile 'Puppy Ride' for guide dogs
Jim Freiss lets the Atlantic Ocean lap at his feet at the completion of the cross-country Puppy Ride. Credit: Elizabeth Sagarin
Just before noon on an overcast Sunday in early August, a police car with twinkling red lights crossed the Smith Point Park Bridge. Behind it, three bicycle riders emerged from the mist, followed by a pack of about 30 more — some riding on tandem bikes.
"Here they come!" someone shouted, as a gaggle of onlookers scurried to a better vantage point near the entrance to Smith Point County Park in Shirley. Trotting alongside the spectators was an 8-year-old black lab named Bailey.
Bailey is a guide dog, one of about 10,000 in the United States. His kind is the reason this group of local cyclists was able to command a police escort down William Floyd Parkway on Aug. 2.
The lead cyclist, Jim Freiss, dismounted amid hugs, high fives and lots of pictures. The back of his blue and orange jersey were emblazoned with the words: "Going the Distance for the Puppies."
That’s distance, as in a really long distance.
Guide dog Bailey was there to welcome the cyclists when they arrived at Smith Point County Park. Credit: Elizabeth Sagarin
Freiss, 63, of Blue Point — along with Victor Fassano, 62, of Centereach, and Glenn Morse, 77, of Massapequa — had just completed a 3,975-mile cross-country ride from Seaside, Oregon, to Smith Point Park to raise money for The Seeing Eye guide dog foundation.
They call the trip, which raised $111,500, a Puppy Ride (although no actual puppies make the journey). They were abetted on their transcontinental endeavor by Kevin Green, 69, of Blue Point, who drove the Honda Ridgeline support truck that accompanied them.
Averaging about 75 miles a day, it took them 56 days to get from Oregon to Long Island (including several rest days). So efficient and consistent were the three cyclists that — despite lashing rain, historically hot temperatures, smoke from Canadian wildfires, mudslide and rockfalls, not to mention fear of contaminated lettuce — they made it back on July 31, almost two days earlier than planned. While they were able to sleep in their own beds Friday and Saturday, they knew they still had to do one final 20-mile leg, from Port Jefferson to Smith Point on the eastern end of Fire Island.
This would allow the riders to say that they had truly gone from sea to shining sea.
All for the guide dogs
Freiss, who describes himself as a "semiretired" engineer, is an experienced ultra distance cyclist and runner who has competed in such daunting events as the Moab 240, a 240-mile run through deserts and mountains in Utah. But he would rather talk about the charity that is the beneficiary of the Puppy Ride than his running or cycling exploits:
Jim Freiss, right, with his brother John in 2016. Credit: Jim Freiss
Founded in 1929, The Seeing Eye is the nation’s oldest guide dog foundation. In 2013, the Morristown, New Jersey-based organization trained a Seeing Eye dog for Jim's younger brother, John Freiss, who had lost his sight as an adult due to a degenerative eye condition. The dog’s name was Hero, and he soon became an integral part of John’s life, even accompanying him on overseas trips. "It was a beautiful partnership," Freiss recalled.
After John died from an undiagnosed heart illness in 2018, Jim Freiss wanted to do something to help the organization that had done so much for his brother. In 2020, he embarked on a solo bike ride from Battery Park in Manhattan to Buffalo to raise money via donation pledges. Along the way, he came up with an irresistible name: the Puppy Ride. (Jim said he does sometimes have to explain to people that no actual puppies are being carried around on bicycles for long distances.)
The money raised on Puppy Rides allow The Seeing Eye to breed, raise, train and place the puppies — a process that typically takes more than a year and a half.
After that first ride, Freiss said, "I thought, ‘let’s try to grow it.’ " Over the subsequent five years, the Puppy Rides have continued to expand in length and support, raising nearly $420,000 to date for The Seeing Eye.
Victor Fassano, from left, Jim Freiss and Glenn Morse stopped at Mount Rushmore National Memorial in the Black Hills of South Dakota on July 1 during their 3,900-mile trek. Credit: Jim Freiss
From sea to shining sea
In Freiss’ mind, it was all leading toward the ultimate challenge. "I always push the envelope," he said. "So I wanted to cross the country."
On June 8, after ceremoniously dipping the rear tires of their touring bikes in the Pacific Ocean, the riders took off. "From around mile five," Freiss noted in his blog, "we encountered the Pacific Northwest’s signature cold rain and easterly winds."
Freiss had plotted a northerly course for this Puppy Ride, the itinerary of which sounds like a Johnny Cash song: They were everywhere, man — from Hood River, Oregon, to Walla Walla, Washington, to Kooskia, Idaho; Missoula Montana, to Cody, Wyoming, to Rapid City, South Dakota, then into the Upper Midwest. The Puppy Ride traversed Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan, shooting up briefly into Canada before arriving in Buffalo, New York, on July 23.
The country unfolded before them. "It’s been a bucket list thing for all of us," said Fassano, who had ridden with Freiss on earlier Puppy Rides. "And we can raise awareness about a really good cause." The riders handed out cards with QR codes about the ride and asked for pledges along the way, at their hotels and in restaurants. Once again, Puppy Power prevailed: "No one we’ve met says no to puppies," Fassano said with a chuckle.
Their efforts, both on the cross-country ride and previous Puppy Rides, have paid off.
"The commitment and dedication Jim and his friends have shown is incredible," said Kyle Street, gift officer for the The Seeing Eye, who is himself blind and uses a Seeing Eye dog (that would be Bailey). As a way to demonstrate the organization’s gratitude to Freiss and the Puppy Ride, Street committed to cycling the final leg with them. He struggled on a tandem bike, but made it to Smith Point — impressed by the fitness of three guys over 60. "I’m 32 and they’re all in better shape than I am," he said.
Freiss, Fassano and Morse joked that after the ride they should cast their bikes into the ocean, in a dramatic finishing statement. But Freiss said his late brother John would call that "a dumb and expensive mistake." Credit: Elizabeth Sagarin
The Puppy Ride would not be complete until they dunked their front tires into the Atlantic. A symbolic ending to the ride that had begun with wet rear tires in the Pacific.
The three cyclists, Freiss said, had joked that after dunking the tires they should cast their bikes into the ocean, in a dramatic finishing statement. But at that moment, he said, his thoughts turned to John. "I could just hear my brother saying to me, ‘that would be a dumb and expensive mistake.’ ”
Besides, he’ll need that $5,000 Trek Domane SL-5 touring bike for his next challenge: "The wheels are turning," Freiss said. "I’m not sure where yet, but there will definitely be another Puppy Ride adventure next year."
