When Travis Scott's cousin Brent passed away at just 52, the Spokane, Washington resident and son of Cindy Scott ( Ravenswood Trail neighbor) found himself trapped in a depression that medication and therapy couldn't touch. But sometimes healing comes from the most unexpected places—in Scott's case, from the seat of a Trek Madone road bike.

At Brent's memorial fundraiser last August, Scott bid on his beloved cousin's road bike. His wife says he "bought" it, but Scott insists he "won" it—there was competition, after all. In that moment, staring at Brent's bike, Scott knew he had to do something meaningful to honor his memory. The idea struck him: he'd ride this bike from Spokane all the way to Indianapolis.

"Everyone thought I'd had too many margaritas when I announced my plan," Scott recalls. But the more he considered it, the more determined he became. This wasn't just about the 2,500-mile journey—it was about finding purpose again. And for the first time in months, that sense of purpose lifted him out of his depression.

As a father of three young boys and owner of a revenue operations consultancy, Scott has watched today's world change dramatically. The mental health challenges facing youth feel overwhelming, especially with social media and smartphones creating new forms of isolation. He decided to transform his cross-country ride into something bigger: launching a nonprofit focused on youth mental health, built around helping kids find purpose and develop resilience.

The journey took 50 days and required a village of support—six different people drove his support van in segments, including his mother Cindy, uncle, cousin, wife, and a friend from Seattle. Scott averaged four hours of riding daily, breaking the massive distance into manageable 10-mile chunks while continuing to work with clients on the road.

Along the way, he stopped at public libraries in small towns, hosting conversations with parents and educators about youth mental health. What he discovered was universal: everyone feels overwhelmed and unsure how to help their kids navigate this digital world.

"Kids aren't talking to each other at lunch anymore—they're just on their phones," Scott observed after visiting schools. "Lunch should be loud, but it's not."

Now, as Scott drives back to Spokane from his mother's home in Britton Falls with nearly $15,000 raised, he faces his next challenge: developing his nonprofit into a full-scale organization. He plans to create practical tools and resources for parents and educators, transforming the momentum from his cross-country journey into lasting change. His depression became the catalyst for something much larger than himself.