In the post-midnight darkness, in the middle of nowhere, Pat O’Neill’s body went into full revolt. He felt horribly sick. He couldn’t eat or drink. He’d run 78 miles, and 22 more miles loomed before the finish line. He would have to drop out. Pat took his phone from a pocket of his running vest; weirdly, he had cell service. Also, weirdly, Laci Wright, back in Crested Butte, was still awake and answered his call. They talked. He hung up, tucked away the phone, and placed one foot in front of the other on the trail – for 22 more miles. “We got ‘er done,” he said.
Pat was running the IMTUF 100 in McCall, Idaho, as a fundraiser for Living Journeys, the Gunnison Valley’s cancer support organization. His inspiration to make it to the finish line: Laci, a courageous Living Journeys cancer client. Pat, a retired Crested Butte teacher and endurance athlete in his sixties, has accomplished ridiculous feats, like earning 13 podium finishes in the grueling Grand Traverse overnight ski race and running 15 100-mile ultramarathons. But far more important to him: he has done these feats to raise more than $330,000 to help other people.
He has been doing bikeathons, runathons, and walkathons for charity since he was five years old, shortly after his brother was born with cystic fibrosis. “It’s built into me. It has a hell of a lot more meaning to serve others.” This valley relies on its nonprofits (approximately 75 of them), dedicated to everything from mental health and land conservation to youth mentoring and community housing. So it’s little wonder that people like Pat come up with fun, hard, creative, and sometimes goofy ways to support those nonprofits.
The impact on our nonprofits
For smaller-budget nonprofits like Gunnison Valley Mentors, independent fundraising efforts are particularly important.
“All our staff are involved with direct services,” said Mentors’ director, Tina McGuinness. “Big fundraisers take a lot of time and money. When volunteers take on fundraising, we don’t have to take staff away from helping the people we serve.”
Larger organizations like the Adaptive Sports Center (ASC), with a $4.5 million budget and 113 volunteers, serving almost 1,000 participants a year, may hire employees specifically for fundraising, but that doesn’t lessen the value of individual efforts. ASC Development Director Allison Butcher has been a professional fundraiser for decades, for a homeless shelter, a behavioral health center, and the YMCA, then in Crested Butte for the Rocky Mountain Biological Laboratory and ASC. For organizations with big budgets, she said, it’s a fundraising fact of life that 80- 90% of funds come from 10-20% of donors.
“I spend a lot of time connecting donors who have ample resources to the causes that mean the most to them.” But part of the ASC’s mission is broad outreach, and that’s where personal fundraising endeavors find their purpose and can raise significant money. Like Michael Blunck, who raised a whopping $100,000 for ASC by pedaling his one-speed townie bike, the Dragon Wagon, 235 miles over mountain roads from Craig Hospital to Crested Butte. The rewards go beyond the financial, and every effort, Allison said, spreads awareness of the entity and its offerings, and draws more people into its circle of support. A young man recently celebrated his Bar Mitzvah and asked for donations to the ASC in lieu of personal gifts.
Ever more people are doing Facebook birthday fundraisers for worthy charities. Though people donate in honor of friends instead of causes, they might become future participants or ongoing supporters of an organization once they learn about it. Every summer for seven or so years, the four young Verdecchia brothers have sold cold drinks and home-baked goods via their Claimjumper Lemonade Stand during Crested Butte’s free outdoor Alpenglow concerts. Now 10, 12, 15, and 17, they give half of their proceeds to nonprofits, and their donations generally tally $1,500-2,000 per summer. Jen Verdecchia has witnessed the word-of-mouth effect of her kids’ lemonade stand.
The young entrepreneurs post three jars on the table, each bearing the name of a nonprofit (with a different selection each week). Customers vote by putting their money into the jar of their chosen organization, and the winning entity gets that week’s donated proceeds. The competition can get intense.
“People get into it! We get into it!” the brothers said. Over the years, they have become ambassadors for the local nonprofits. Jen once overheard her young son explaining to a customer why she could feel good supporting Six Points Training and Evaluation Center.
As lowkey Michael Blunck trained and then did his 235-mile bike ride, he became an inadvertent “influencer” on behalf of the Adaptive Sports Center. For years, Michael had been a top fundraiser in the ASC’s Bridges of the Butte event, pedaling his one-speed townie around and around the downtown course for 24 hours. He typically garnered $10,000-12,000 per year for Adaptive.
“When I was ready to retire from the Bridges, I figured I’d try to raise ten years’ worth,” he said. “But $100,000 seemed a little far-fetched.”
A long-time Oracle software consultant, Michael hatched a plan to ride from Denver to Crested Butte, instead of pedaling in circles. The ASC staff helped him publicize the campaign, and “it got bigger than I ever thought,” he said. Long ago nicknamed “the dragon” by his sons Nolan and Aaron, Michael chose that as his Bridges theme. “I’m not as into costumes as a lot of people here, but I could dress up my bike.” His wife Lisa decked out his one-speed with dragon accoutrements. He added lights for all-night Bridges cruising. “One time at 2 a.m., a bear wandered out, saw my lit-up bike, and high- tailed it right back out of there.”
For his finale fundraiser, Michael started last August 30 from Craig Hospital, where many participants of ASC rehabbed after serious illness or injury. Michael rode several hours a day, sleeping at night in the camper van driven by Lisa and sometimes Nolan. Pedaling the wheeled dragon along Colorado’s back roads, he attracted honks and cheers from passersby and supporters.
He timed the ride to end during the 2024 Bridges of the Butte, which in recent years has been shortened from 24 hours to four. To train, Michael rode the Dragon Wagon and posted photos of it in iconic locations around Crested Butte.
“I’m not a social media person, but people got into it.” A mountain biker who’d shuttled his high-tech bike to the top of Schofield Pass to begin his ride, humbled by the big guy powering a dragon up the steep road, asked about and donated to Michael’s campaign.
Another biker at the top of Kebler Pass asked, “How many gears does that thing have?” “Two,” replied Michael. “Stand up and sit down.” That rider also became one of 218 donors who helped Michael raise $100,000 for Adaptive. The effect on those who give as much as a fundraising effort impacts the receiving organization, it often impacts the giver even more.
“Athletic feats are profoundly more meaningful when you’re going for money to help other people, not just going for a personal best or to win your age category. It completely changes the character,” Pat said.
He noted that many uber events, like the Grand Traverse and Leadville 100, are adding a component of giving back — either incorporating service requirements or offering special slots for charity fundraising teams. “Uber athletes are often type-A people who can be pretty selfish – goal driven, time driven, motivated by personal accomplishment. I’ve seen people massively changed by changing their focus,” Pat said. He recalls watching an ego-centered racer blown away after doing a cancer fundraising event and then meeting a Gunnison ten-year-old with brain cancer.
“That person is not the same. Deep down, all people really want is to help each other.”
Like Pat, Michael powered his Dragon Wagon partly by thinking of other people and the struggles they faced. He woke up “antsy and short-tempered” the day he would ride his heavy one-speed over Cottonwood Pass (12,126 feet), but, with some rests, he pedaled the whole thing. “I felt like every participant of Adaptive pushed me over that pass,” he said.
Michael, who now volunteers for the ASC, had been wowed by the organization since he was a Peachtree lift operator three decades ago. There, he witnessed a newly-wounded soldier go from suicidally depressed to laughing and renewed — after just four days of skiing with Adaptive staff. These days, ASC programs mean the world to a close friend’s son, a remarkable teen with cerebral palsy. Michael’s Dragon Wagon ride allowed him to honor those individuals and “an organization that changes people’s lives.”
Motivations and meanings
Pat, who has used his athleticism to raise money for a host of nonprofits, recently focused his energy on Living Journeys, where he serves as president of the board. He sees both the growing need and the huge difference Living Journeys makes for those facing cancer crises.
“My brother had bile duct cancer in Dayton, Ohio, and nobody showed up to help. Here, Rob Mahedy finds out he has cancer, and bam, help is on the way. Here comes food, financial assistance, the use of a vehicle. That’s the Gunnison Valley way.”
After doing yet another fundraiser a few years ago and realizing people were feeling “major donor fatigue,” Pat said, “I had an ‘aha’ moment: we need subcontractors!” He launched the Living Journeys Athlete Corps, recruiting world champions and weekend warriors to raise money by taking on physical challenges. “We have ten athletes right now, and each taps into a unique donor pool.”
Pat gets to watch funds come in to help local people struggling through cancer — and he gets to watch the athletes and their contributors be changed by the power of helping others.
“We have a natural kindness that comes out. I have huge donors who say they feel so much more connected to this community when they can help. And I have former students who hear I’m doing some event, catch me at the post office, and say, “Hey, dude, here’s twelve bucks.”
For Jen, watching her boys support local nonprofits is particularly meaningful because their family has felt the community’s care. Her second son was diagnosed with cancer as a one-year-old and given a 10% chance of survival. “It’s a total success story, and the community helped us so much. Now we want to teach the kids how important it is to give back.”
Through the lemonade stand, the brothers also have learned business and inner-family negotiation skills as they plan, bake, market, and sell their goods. (Early on, they bedecked the youngest in a sandwich board and sent him into the concert crowd to drum up business.) “There are so many lessons from having a business with your brothers. It’s a very rich process for our family,” Jen said.
All of this — giving, receiving, helping, and caring — gets woven into the fabric of a community, Allison said. She echoed Jen’s sentiment as a parent: “I have two kids, and I’m constantly trying to teach them the value of giving back. I want them seeing good will to others and good all around.
That’s why I love living in Crested Butte; it’s everywhere.”