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77 years, 77 miles Mail Tribune / Bob Pennell Pat Patterson celebrated his 77th birthday Tuesday by pedaling as many miles as years he is old. It's a tradition he's been carrying on for 20 years. He rides more than 200 miles a week this time of year. Every year, Pat Patterson's birthday ride gets just a bit longer By PAUL FATTIG Mail Tribune Medford resident Pat Patterson hopped on his bicycle Tuesday morning and hit the road. He pedaled through southwestern Medford to Central Point, then headed northeast to Brownsboro. From there it was back to Eagle Point, White City and Central Point. On and on he pedaled until he covered 77 miles, the distance matching the number of years he has lived. Actually, the odometer on his 12-speed rolled over to 77.7 miles as he pedaled up his driveway, a good soak in the hot tub waiting at the end. "It's something I've been doing every year on my birthday for a long time," said Patterson, a retired Army photographer who served for nearly 30 years. "I don't go out of the Rogue Valley anymore because I don't have anyone to pick me up at the other end," he said, then added, "My wife (Kathryn) died a little over six years ago." He began riding bicycles in earnest in 1981, then started the birthday rides in 1982, the year he turned 57. Each birthday, he makes sure he rides as many miles - or more - as years he is old. In fact, he rides at least three times a week, covering at least 70 miles daily this time of year. He once rode 202 miles in one day. He estimates he has ridden some 200,000 miles in the past 21 years. His legs bear witness: They look like they belong to a collegiate sprinter. "I don't do it for the exercise," he stressed. "I do it because I don't want to go stir crazy. If I started doing it for the exercise, I'd quit." He always stops at the Roadrunner Restaurant in White City, where he has three cups of coffee, a butterhorn and a pitcher of ice water. Patterson has never been one to give up easily. While serving with an infantry unit in Italy in World War II, he was shot by a sniper in the right arm. His right little finger is missing and he lacks full dexterity in his right hand. "I was lucky," he said. "They did a deal back in '47 in which they let combat-wounded vets come back in if they could qualify." He qualified, and Uncle Sam sent him to a photography school in New York City to become a still photographer and movie maker for the Army. A native of Portland who has lived in the Rogue Valley nearly 30 years, he always dons a helmet in addition to a brightly colored suit before hitting the road. "A helmet saved my life when I was hit by that truck," he said of a close encounter back in 1994. Now Patterson faces a truck of another kind: He was diagnosed with cancer of the esophagus in September. "They gave me six months to live," he said. "I have no idea how long I'll continue doing this. I don't know if I'll be alive for my next birthday. "I should have been dead a month ago," he added. "But I did 900 miles last month." And he figures he still has plenty of miles left in him. Reach reporter Paul Fattig at 776-4496 or e-mail him at [email protected] Mail Tribune Home | Ottaway Newspapers, Inc. | Dow Jones & Co., Inc. | Privacy | Contact Us Copyright � 2001 Mail Tribune, Inc.