'I know it seems insane.' Cancer survivor riding motorcycle 3,800 miles to Alaska
Not many people appreciate potholes, but Dan Winkelman is not most people.
Winkleman, of Stevens Point, initially attributed a pain in his back to a pothole he had just hit on a 2018 motorcycle ride in Myanmar, where he was working as a missionary. A doctor there chalked it up to a sprained muscle. But the pain persisted, so he pushed for a CT scan at a better hospital in Bangkok. The scan showed a tumor.
Stage 3 pancreatic cancer. The disease has a 12% five-year survival rate among patients of all stages.
Nearly seven years, two chemotherapy treatments and one surgery later, Winkelman is cancer free. Medical College of Wisconsin cancer surgeon Douglas Evans puts the chance of Winkelman's cancer returning at just 2%.
"That's why I always say potholes are beautiful," Winkelman, 69, said. "If I hadn't hit that pothole and strained my back, they would have never found that tumor."
Winkelman wants to give back to the institution that gave him a second life. He's trying to raise $1.2 million for a Medical College clinical trial in the hope that new pancreatic cancer treatments can be found and more lives can be saved.
To raise the massive sum of money, Winkelman will leave Wisconsin on his motorcycle June 13. He's asking people to pledge money as he rides 3,800 miles, all the way to Anchorage, Alaska.
He's OK if he hits a few potholes along the way.
Winkelman has always had an adventorous spirit. His life is marked by major pivots.
Born in Huntington, Indiana, he spent the summer after his junior year of high school in Alaska, then decided to stay there for his senior year on a whim. He enlisted in the Air Force at age 17, and was part of a search and rescue squadron stationed at NKP Royal Thai Air Force Base toward the end of the Vietnam War.
Winkelman moved to Wisconsin at 32 as one of the first employees of a new railroad company, the Wisconsin Central Railroad, in northern Wisconsin. Sixteen years later, he quit, giving up a lucrative retirement package to become a pastor.
Then at 59, he and his wife, Sandy, moved to Myanmar to serve as missionaries.
"I've had these ideas all my life," Winkelman said. "I like doing things way bigger than me."
Pancreatic cancer often sounds like a death sentence. It's the third-leading cause of cancer death in adults nationally, and the second in Wisconsin.
Evans, who treats patients at the Froedtert and Medical College of Wisconsin Clinical Cancer Center, has dedicated his career to finding treatments for this deadly disease and improving survival rates. Even in his personal life, the pancreas prevails. He enjoys sailing on Lake Michigan and decks his boats with purple ribbons, the color designated for pancreatic cancer awareness.
Evans' interest in the pancreas, a small organ deep in the belly that regulates blood sugar and aids in digestion, came through a fluke. In the late 1970s, his heart was set on his state flagship, the University of Massachusetts Amherst, for medical school. It offered the best deal. A rejection put him at the much pricier Boston University, where his financial aid included overseeing two undergraduate dorms filled with lively students that made it difficult for him to study.
Seeking refuge, Evans took a part-time job at the famed Lahey Clinic across the street. It gave him access to the building's library, and to some of the most well-known pancreas surgeons in the world at that time.
Evans arrived at the Medical College in 2009 and has helped build the institution into one of the premier places in the U.S. for the treatment of pancreatic cancer. The college's LaBahn Pancreatic Cancer Program has led the way in personalized medicine and the application of precision medicine, which is tailoring a patient's treatment based on their genetic makeup and tumor characteristics. The Seena Magowitz Pancreatic Cancer Foundation supports the college, giving more than $1.4 million to support pancreatic cancer research.
Winkelman's first chemotherapy treatment made him violently sick. It was also ineffective; his cancer count continued to rise, not fall. Evans switched him to a different type of treatment, followed by radiation. Winkelman responded well.
Evans was optimistic about his patient's recovery. Winkelman's tumor was localized to the pancreas. It hadn't spread to other organs, though it had encased some important blood vessels, making his tumor inoperable at most medical centers in this country.
In an eight-hour surgery in 2019, Evans removed part of Winkelman's pancreas and took a vein out of his leg to reconstruct an artery the tumor had encased, a procedure developed by Medical College surgeons.
Recovery was rough. Weakened, Winkelman battled a number of infections. Motorcycle rides were out of the question. He eventually sold the bike, doubting he would ever be able to handle his 800-pound motorcycle again.
Winkelman sometimes struggles with survivor's guilt. So few pancreatic cancer patients reach the five-year anniversary of their diagnosis.
"There is a part of me that says, 'OK, why did I get the second chance? Why did I survive?" Winkelman asked.
These lingering questions fueled Winkelman's drive to do something. He wants to raise awareness about the disease, highlight the work being done at Froedtert and the Medical College and offer encouragement to cancer patients through videos he will post daily on his donation website.
He knows the journey won't be easy. His longest motorcycle ride since his diagnosis was to South Dakota's Black Hills. The Alaskan journey will be about four times as long, on a much smaller bike he bought in 2024.
Winkelman has worked with a trainer to build his core muscles, which he will need to fight the wind on the Alaska-Canada Highway. He expects the journey to take 18 days, or about 350 miles per day. His oldest son, Andy, is driving alongside him in an SUV that will pull a camper-trailer.
"It's a crazy deal, isn't it? To think about doing this?" he said. "I know it seems insane."
To his doctor, though, it's not. Evans commended Winkelman's attitude, saying he's a great example of the mind-body relationship at work.
"There was never a doubt he would be here six years later, about to ride his motorcycle to some crazy place," Evans said.
For more information about Winkelman's fundraising campaign, visit give.classy.org/hopeontheroad.
Kelly Meyerhofer has covered higher education in Wisconsin since 2018 but also enjoys stories off the beaten path of college campuses. She would love to hear your story, or someone's you think she should share. Contact her at kmeyerhofer@gannett.com or 414-223-5168. Follow her on X (Twitter) at @KellyMeyerhofer.
This article originally appeared on Milwaukee Journal Sentinel: Cancer survivor riding to Alaska for Medical College of Wisconsin fundraiser

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Not many people appreciate potholes, but Dan Winkelman is not most people. Winkleman, of Stevens Point, initially attributed a pain in his back to a pothole he had just hit on a 2018 motorcycle ride in Myanmar, where he was working as a missionary. A doctor there chalked it up to a sprained muscle. But the pain persisted, so he pushed for a CT scan at a better hospital in Bangkok. The scan showed a tumor. Stage 3 pancreatic cancer. The disease has a 12% five-year survival rate among patients of all stages. Nearly seven years, two chemotherapy treatments and one surgery later, Winkelman is cancer free. Medical College of Wisconsin cancer surgeon Douglas Evans puts the chance of Winkelman's cancer returning at just 2%. "That's why I always say potholes are beautiful," Winkelman, 69, said. "If I hadn't hit that pothole and strained my back, they would have never found that tumor." Winkelman wants to give back to the institution that gave him a second life. He's trying to raise $1.2 million for a Medical College clinical trial in the hope that new pancreatic cancer treatments can be found and more lives can be saved. To raise the massive sum of money, Winkelman will leave Wisconsin on his motorcycle June 13. He's asking people to pledge money as he rides 3,800 miles, all the way to Anchorage, Alaska. He's OK if he hits a few potholes along the way. Winkelman has always had an adventorous spirit. His life is marked by major pivots. Born in Huntington, Indiana, he spent the summer after his junior year of high school in Alaska, then decided to stay there for his senior year on a whim. He enlisted in the Air Force at age 17, and was part of a search and rescue squadron stationed at NKP Royal Thai Air Force Base toward the end of the Vietnam War. Winkelman moved to Wisconsin at 32 as one of the first employees of a new railroad company, the Wisconsin Central Railroad, in northern Wisconsin. Sixteen years later, he quit, giving up a lucrative retirement package to become a pastor. Then at 59, he and his wife, Sandy, moved to Myanmar to serve as missionaries. "I've had these ideas all my life," Winkelman said. "I like doing things way bigger than me." Pancreatic cancer often sounds like a death sentence. It's the third-leading cause of cancer death in adults nationally, and the second in Wisconsin. Evans, who treats patients at the Froedtert and Medical College of Wisconsin Clinical Cancer Center, has dedicated his career to finding treatments for this deadly disease and improving survival rates. Even in his personal life, the pancreas prevails. He enjoys sailing on Lake Michigan and decks his boats with purple ribbons, the color designated for pancreatic cancer awareness. Evans' interest in the pancreas, a small organ deep in the belly that regulates blood sugar and aids in digestion, came through a fluke. In the late 1970s, his heart was set on his state flagship, the University of Massachusetts Amherst, for medical school. It offered the best deal. A rejection put him at the much pricier Boston University, where his financial aid included overseeing two undergraduate dorms filled with lively students that made it difficult for him to study. Seeking refuge, Evans took a part-time job at the famed Lahey Clinic across the street. It gave him access to the building's library, and to some of the most well-known pancreas surgeons in the world at that time. Evans arrived at the Medical College in 2009 and has helped build the institution into one of the premier places in the U.S. for the treatment of pancreatic cancer. The college's LaBahn Pancreatic Cancer Program has led the way in personalized medicine and the application of precision medicine, which is tailoring a patient's treatment based on their genetic makeup and tumor characteristics. The Seena Magowitz Pancreatic Cancer Foundation supports the college, giving more than $1.4 million to support pancreatic cancer research. Winkelman's first chemotherapy treatment made him violently sick. It was also ineffective; his cancer count continued to rise, not fall. Evans switched him to a different type of treatment, followed by radiation. Winkelman responded well. Evans was optimistic about his patient's recovery. Winkelman's tumor was localized to the pancreas. It hadn't spread to other organs, though it had encased some important blood vessels, making his tumor inoperable at most medical centers in this country. In an eight-hour surgery in 2019, Evans removed part of Winkelman's pancreas and took a vein out of his leg to reconstruct an artery the tumor had encased, a procedure developed by Medical College surgeons. Recovery was rough. Weakened, Winkelman battled a number of infections. Motorcycle rides were out of the question. He eventually sold the bike, doubting he would ever be able to handle his 800-pound motorcycle again. Winkelman sometimes struggles with survivor's guilt. So few pancreatic cancer patients reach the five-year anniversary of their diagnosis. "There is a part of me that says, 'OK, why did I get the second chance? Why did I survive?" Winkelman asked. These lingering questions fueled Winkelman's drive to do something. He wants to raise awareness about the disease, highlight the work being done at Froedtert and the Medical College and offer encouragement to cancer patients through videos he will post daily on his donation website. He knows the journey won't be easy. His longest motorcycle ride since his diagnosis was to South Dakota's Black Hills. The Alaskan journey will be about four times as long, on a much smaller bike he bought in 2024. Winkelman has worked with a trainer to build his core muscles, which he will need to fight the wind on the Alaska-Canada Highway. He expects the journey to take 18 days, or about 350 miles per day. His oldest son, Andy, is driving alongside him in an SUV that will pull a camper-trailer. "It's a crazy deal, isn't it? To think about doing this?" he said. "I know it seems insane." To his doctor, though, it's not. Evans commended Winkelman's attitude, saying he's a great example of the mind-body relationship at work. "There was never a doubt he would be here six years later, about to ride his motorcycle to some crazy place," Evans said. For more information about Winkelman's fundraising campaign, visit Kelly Meyerhofer has covered higher education in Wisconsin since 2018 but also enjoys stories off the beaten path of college campuses. She would love to hear your story, or someone's you think she should share. Contact her at kmeyerhofer@ or 414-223-5168. Follow her on X (Twitter) at @KellyMeyerhofer. This article originally appeared on Milwaukee Journal Sentinel: Cancer survivor riding to Alaska for Medical College of Wisconsin fundraiser