Cyclist Lonnie Wormley of Albany pedals away trauma

ALBANY — Lonnie Wormley’s arrival in St. Mary’s on Georgia’s East Coast April 3 marked the end of a 204.9-mile, almost 18-hour bicycle ride from his home in Albany.

The ride also completed the vanquishing of a one-year nightmare during which Wormley, the interim chief information security officer and special projects manager at Albany State University, overcame the physical and psychological damage inflected upon him when a “distracted driver” hit him during a St. Patrick’s Day 2014 bicycle commute to work.

After waking in the aftermath of the accident “strapped to a board” and enduring two surgeries as well as eight months of hellish rehab, Wormley set his sights on the double-century ride as a way to return normalcy to his life.

“I’m not saying I know what it feels like to be raped, but I know now what it feels like to have your space violated,” Wormley said of the early-morning 2014 accident that Dougherty County Police say was the result of a distracted driver. “I’ve never been one to get on a soap box about anything — religion or politics — but I’m on one now. Put your phone in the trunk. Pay attention to the road.”

Wormley came to Albany State a little more than five years ago to work in the university’s Information Technology department. He’d left a similar job at Austin, Texas’ Huston-Tillotson College to come to the Southeast, a move dictated by both work and personal choice.

“I’d lived on the West Coast, in Southern California, in the Pacific Northwest (in Portland, Ore.) and in the Southwest,” Wormley, who was born in New Jersey but grew up and attended both high school and college in San Diego, said. “I wanted to see what it was like in the Southeast. As an African-American, I’d heard the good, the bad and the ugly about the Deep South, just as I had about Texas when I moved there. What I’ve found here is the same thing I found in Texas: If you act like a fool, people are going to treat you like a fool.”

While Wormley didn’t know what to expect in Southwest Georgia, one of the things he quickly realized is that the region is an untapped gold mine for bike riders. A cyclist since age 7, when his dad bought him his first Schwinn Tornado, Wormley had commuted to and from work at every stop along his career path.

He not only continued that streak in Albany, he discovered he’d unwittingly landed in a bike-rider’s paradise.

“This city should be telling the world that this is an ideal place for riders,” Wormley said. “I’ve lived in good cycling towns — Portland and Austin — and Albany is one of those secrets that should be shared. In 10 minutes, I can be on a country road where I might see one or two vehicles for the next several miles.

“And when you’re pedaling into one of those headwinds with a front moving in, it’s a definite workout. I fell in love with cycling here.”

Much as he does most mornings, Wormley left his northwest Albany home just before 7 a.m. on March 17 of last year for his ride to work at ASU. Along the way, though, he was struck by the aforementioned driver and thrown 100 feet from his bike. He slid under a guardrail, suffering a serious cut.

Wormley managed to gain consciousness long enough to unlock his cellphone, which allowed emergency personnel to contact his wife, Sylvia, but he did not regain full consciousness until he was being treated by paramedics. He spent two days in the hospital, but eight grueling months in rehab.

Wormley managed to get back on his bike after about a month, but something wasn’t right. After looking over his medical records, he and Sylvia decided to have Atlanta Saint Joseph’s Hospital specialist Dr. Peter H’Doubler look into the injuries he’d suffered.

H’Doubler found an aneurism that he said resulted from the impact of the accident, and he performed surgery in May.

“I felt fine physically after the surgery, but there was a lot of psychological stuff,” Wormley said. “Getting back onto my bike became an issue.”

Wormley worked through all his physical and psychological issues, though, and soon he had a new bike custom-made. By Dec. 2, he was back commuting to work.

“What I went through makes cycling sweeter to me,” Wormley, 63, said. “But every now and then, I’ll be riding along, hear some kind of noise and cringe. Still, I don’t want to give the perception that there are nothing but a bunch of bad drivers here. I always notice truck drivers who gear down and pull way over when they come upon me on the road.

“I guess the only other time I’m uncomfortable is when I’m out alone on a country road and I come upon a Confederate flag. That’s when I feel the history of the South. But, by the same token, I’ve been out on some of those country roads, had a flat and had people stop to ask if I needed help.”

It was, oddly enough, Wormley’s love for the Texas-based fast-food chain Whataburger that got him thinking about distance riding.

“I love Whataburger, and I heard that the first one in Georgia had been built in Thomasville,” he said. “So I decided to ride over and have a meal. I just got up one morning, pretended I was going off to work, and rode to Thomasville. The trip there and back was 140 miles. I did that a couple of times.

“At one time in my life I’d done extreme trail running, had completed a 100K run (62 miles) in Austin. That took me 16 hours. So I decided to test my new bike, to see if I could ride on it for 16 hours.”

Wormley plotted a course to St. Mary’s on Georgia’s East Coast. He stopped along the way to take photos and enjoy the scenery, passing through Doerun, Moultrie, Adel, Ray City, Lakeland, Homerville, Waycross, Folkston and Cumberland Island before arriving in St. Mary’s. (To see Wormley’s detailed blog of that trip, go to http://cyclethunder.wormley.org/2015/04/my-first-double-century.html.)

“I had so much adrenaline pumping on the trip that when I rode through the swampiest place in America, I didn’t even think to put on insect repellent,” he said. “I didn’t even feel the bites, but I was covered in them.”

Lonnie Wormley will always be a biker. He solves the IT problems from his job while pedaling along, but he also takes the time to enjoy his surroundings.

“People around here — much like they do anywhere — get enamored with other parts of the world,” he said. “Then they take for granted what they have right here. That’s why I stop and take pictures when I’m riding. I can smell the flowers, the roadkill, the Krispy Kreme doughnuts and the sausage they’re making at Abbot’s. I can enjoy seeing the deer, the wild turkeys, the cranes, the boars that I come upon.

“I ride for pleasure, not for competition. There’s only one critic that I answer to. It’s that 30-year-old guy I used to be who’s in my head. I’m always out there on the road, trying to catch him. But I know I never will.”