In day-to-day life, Ron Ward is a welder with the U.S. Civil Service at Altus Air Force Base. In real life he's a man on a quest.

On Nov. 19 this 57-year-old adventurer dipped the front tire of his Cannondale T-2000 tour bike in the Atlantic Ocean after pedaling a grueling 3,159 miles -- from San Diego to St. Augustine, Fla. -- with a group of like-minded cyclists.

The team of nine men and two women ritually dipped the back tire of their bikes in the Pacific Ocean on Sept. 20 and, each carrying at least 60 to 70 pounds of gear and supplies, steadily rolled their way across California, Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama and Florida -- the Southern Tier Route of a biking group Ward ran into on the Internet called the Adventure Cycling Association.

"I don't think I would do it again ... I'm getting too old ... although some people in their 70s do it," Ward said. "After a 78-year-old named Winfried dropped out in El Paso, I was left as the oldest one."

Winfried had to get back to his home in Germany on personal business, Ward said, adding that the average age of the remainder of the group was mid-40s -- the youngest was 23.

"For the younger guys it was easy, but for me it was pretty strenuous," he said.

The southern tier is the shortest of 17 cross-country routes offered by the cycling association, whose motto is to "inspire people of all ages to travel by bicycle. We help cyclists explore the landscapes and history of America for fitness, fun and self-discovery."

So what do you get for the $2,300 Ward shelled out for the two-month adventure? "You lose about 15 pounds, you get a sore butt and you get real tired."

"Since I've known him he's been adventuresome," said Ward's wife Carmen, who works as a tech specialist with Upward Bound at Western Oklahoma State College.

Sure enough, he's adventuresome. In 1991 Ward ran the 26.2- mile L.A. marathon in 4 hours 34 minutes, and in 1992 the Long Beach marathon -- also 26.2 miles -- in 4 hours 1 minute.

"I'm just average," Ward said, "all I wanted to do was finish the thing."

In the mid-1990s a younger daredevilish Ward took on Mt. Whitney, the highest mountain peak in the lower 48 states -- three times! Once, he said, the rangers skeedaddled him off the mountain because of lightning.

In all this running and climbing, a biking adventure was forming in Ward's mind. He hopped on the Internet and a Tulsa-based organization called Oklahoma FreeWheel appeared on the screen.

The group crosses the Sooner State annually in June from the Texas to Kansas borders.

Ward has taken the trip three times -- in 2002, 2003 and 2004. For $85, it's a leisure week-long excursion, and all the pedalers' gear is hauled separately.

"I'm going to always do Oklahoma FreeWheel," Ward said. "I got adopted by a family there."

But the U.S. of A. is a lot more vast than just Oklahoma, and Ward's lust for road-going led him back to the Web, where he found the Adventure Cycling Association. Formed in 1973, the organization boasts more than 41,000 members.

In mid-September Ward disassembled his Cannondale, packed it and sent it via FedEX to a bike shop in San Diego. He gathered his supplies and headed west for the ritual tire dipping.

Averaging 66 miles a day, the group, under the leadership of a 40-ish Utah woman, followed the southern border area -- San Diego -- Tempe, Ariz. -- El Paso, Texas -- Del Rio, Texas -- Navasota, Texas -- St. Francisville, La. -- De Funiak Springs, Fla. -- St. Augustine, Fla.

Only a couple of motel stays were on the agenda for the cyclists, Ward said, and, oh ... what a treat they were. For the most part the group hunkered down in high schools, colleges, peoples' yards, R.V. camps, an Indian reservation and even a skydiving airport, where for a mere $10 Ward took a ride in an ultra-light plane.

In Merryville, La., he said, the town -- even the mayor -- turned out to greet them with dinner and pies.

Highlights of the trip included a 75-mile ride in a downpour in Texas and another 73-mile downpour in Louisiana. The longest day trip, Ward said, was 91 miles.

"I probably wouldn't have done it as well if I'd have done it on my own," Ward said, adding that it's a lot safer to be with a group on such an ambitious adventure.

Some 100 yards from the Continental Divide, near Silver City, N.M., while riding by himself (after all, the younger folks were a lot faster on their pedals) a bridge shot out of his mouth, and he spent an hour looking for it among the pebbles on the side of the road. He called the Altus dentist who put it in, and was told-- if it doesn't hurt, keep on riding.

In the grass by the flagpole at the post office in Navasota, Texas, Ward was untangling his bike lock cable when what to his surprise shone a coin -- an 1886 silver dollar.

Total damage during the two month ordeal -- besides the sore butt: two broken spokes and five flat tires.

"One of the reasons I did it was to leave something for my kids to remember me by," Ward said.

The couple have three daughters, ages 30, 32 and 35.