Rain, Resilience, and One Final Ride: Bo Jackson Faces Down the Storm as ‘Bo Bikes Bama’ Bids Farewell — ‘Mother Nature Doesn’t Care, But Alabama Does’
AUBURN, Ala. – Under skies thick with gray and a steady, unrelenting rain, Bo Jackson — a man who once outran linebackers and outslugged major league fastballs — mounted his bicycle one final time for a ride that has come to define not just a legacy, but a movement.
What began in tragedy more than a decade ago has become one of Alabama’s most enduring and heartfelt traditions. Bo Bikes Bama, the annual charity cycling event started by Jackson in the wake of the devastating April 2011 tornadoes that tore through the state, reached its emotional conclusion on Saturday. But not without a reminder that nature, as Jackson says, “does not care.”
Gathered outside Neville Arena in Auburn as storms loomed and rain poured, Jackson addressed the crowd with the kind of grit and humility that have always defined him.
“Mother Nature does not care,” Jackson said, peering across a crowd of riders layered in ponchos and soaked gear. “But what matters is that you showed up anyway. That’s what Alabama is all about.”
A Ride Born from Tragedy
In 2011, after Alabama was ravaged by one of the deadliest tornado outbreaks in U.S. history, Bo Jackson stepped up—not just as a sports legend, but as a native son with a mission. He rode 300 miles across the state to raise awareness and support for the rebuilding efforts. That single act of compassion ignited Bo Bikes Bama, which has since become an annual ride to benefit the Governor’s Emergency Relief Fund, supporting disaster preparedness and relief.
Over the years, the ride has raised millions of dollars, bringing together athletes, celebrities, first responders, and everyday heroes in a unified show of strength, hope, and community.
One Final Push
Saturday’s ride was Jackson’s last leading the event — not because the mission is over, but because, in his words, “It’s time to pass the torch.” Yet, even in the face of early morning thunderstorms and torrential rain, hundreds showed up to honor that final journey.
Originally scheduled to feature both a 60-mile and a 20-mile ride, the weather forced the shorter leg to delay its start. Yet no one left. The riders stayed — some huddled beneath tents, others standing stoically in the open — waiting for their turn to follow the icon.
“This ride is bigger than Bo Jackson,” said Angela McDowell, a teacher from Tuscaloosa who has participated every year since 2013. “It’s about resilience. It’s about never forgetting.”
The ride snaked through the soaked Alabama countryside, with volunteers cheering from intersections and local residents waving from their porches — many of whom still carry scars from the tornadoes that first inspired the event.
Legacy That Endures
While Jackson may be stepping back from the organizing role, he made it clear that Bo Bikes Bama will continue.
“This may be my last time leading the ride,” he said. “But it won’t be the last ride. As long as there are people in this state who care about their neighbors, this mission continues.”
As the final riders crossed the finish line, soaked but smiling, Jackson stood near the edge of the road — not as a Heisman winner or professional athlete, but as a neighbor, a friend, and a living example of what it means to give back.
The applause was thunderous, even over the roar of the wind and rain.
“We all know who Bo Jackson is,” said Governor Kay Ivey in a statement. “But through Bo Bikes Bama, he’s shown us who Alabama is.”
Looking Ahead
The impact of Bo Bikes Bama is measurable in both dollars and lives touched. More than 10,000 riders have participated since its inception, and the funds raised have gone toward building storm shelters, supporting recovery efforts, and improving community preparedness.
Now, as the ride transitions into a new chapter, the responsibility falls to the next generation to carry the message forward.
For Bo Jackson, though, Saturday was less about goodbye and more about gratitude.
“Thank you for making this more than just a ride,” he said as he shook hands and posed for photos. “You made it a movement.”
