Inner-City Bicyclists Finish Trip of a Lifetime : Cross-country: Group pedals from Lancaster to the capital to promote programs for troubled youths. They miss Clinton, but the trek is rewarding.

Six inner-city youths set out from Lancaster on bicycles two months ago, hoping their 3,000-mile trek would end at the steps of the White House, where President Clinton would sign a proclamation decreeing August “African-American Foster Youth Month.”

But when they finally reached 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. Saturday afternoon, Clinton, unaware of this pilgrimage, was in Vail, Colo., signing another document--the score card from his round of golf with Jack Nicklaus and former President Gerald Ford.

The cross-country “Ride for the Future” was organized by Emmett Murrell, 50, a Palmdale foster parent who hoped to raise money for his programs for troubled youths from Los Angeles. His six young companions, all originally from the Los Angeles Basin, have lived in Murrell’s foster homes.

The cyclists had carried their proclamation with them, sealed in a baton, as they toughed out heat in the Southwest deserts, picked their way through the flooded Midwest and climbed over the Allegheny Mountains. But the paper will go unsigned because of one natural phenomenon they had not counted on: the annual August exodus from the capital.

Murrell had been contacting the White House even before the trip began, and was politely told the President would not see the group. Still, he thought, once the young cyclists, ranging in age from 14 to 21, and their four adult companions had demonstrated their dedication by crossing the continent, the White House scheduling office might budge. He sent letters to the White House from stops along the way, giving notice of their pending arrival and pleading for a meeting with the President.

But when the cyclists hit the homestretch of eastern states, when visions of monuments and fountains began shimmering in their helmeted heads, Murrell learned that Clinton, and just about every other government official, would be out of town. It happens every year. When the heat and humidity of late summer creep into Washington, almost everybody who works in a big white building bugs out.

“We were naive,” Murrell said simply. “I don’t blame Clinton. The fault probably lies with us because we were concentrating on the ride.”

So the cyclists circled the White House on their bikes Saturday, stopping out front to talk about their experiences.

“I was looking forward to having a meeting with the President,” said Victor Flores, at 14 the youngest of the cyclists. “He’s kind of like a king or something.”

“I hope I see some President, even a picture of Reagan or someone,” said Albert Martinez, 21, his tan hands resting on curved handlebars.

Yet the disappointment quickly evaporated when the conversation returned to what they had accomplished since they left Lancaster City Hall on June 19.

“From where I came to where I’ve gone is a lot,” said Redd Gipson, 18, who was raised in South-Central Los Angeles. “Now I can set a goal and never have to worry about accomplishing it.”

Gipson and his companions traveled about 60 miles a day, resting one day a week. They rolled along the back roads of California, Arizona, New Mexico, Oklahoma, Missouri, Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, West Virginia and Maryland.

They slept in city parks, campgrounds, and, when they were very lucky, in somebody’s home. Murrell’s friend, Zayid Al-Ghani, trailed the cyclists in a propane-powered van, carrying water, food, tents and repair kits.

“The focus has always been to put in the hand of President Clinton our proclamation,” Murrell said. “But it was also to give them the experience of a lifetime.”

Most of the youths had never left the inner-city Los Angeles neighborhoods they grew up in, and each day on the road brought new sights and sensations. During one of their overnight stops in Oklahoma, for instance, the cyclists witnessed their first Midwest electrical storm.

“It was frightening,” Martinez said. “I was on the phone and every time there was a lightning strike the phone would click off. I thought I was going to get electrocuted, so I hung up and went back to camp.”

When the group reached University City, Mo., just south of the convergence of the flooding Missouri and Mississippi rivers, Murrell wondered whether their journey had reached an inescapable end. But a sympathetic police chief sneaked them across a barricaded bridge at midnight.

“The trip should have been over right there,” Murrell said. “The next day, that bridge was unpassable.”

The youths returned the officer’s kindness by donating the bulk of their 80-gallon water supply to the residents of University City.

Always aware that a group of inner-city, ethnic youths might not be warmly welcomed by every town they encountered, they were particularly nervous when they entered Lebanon, Ind., and saw the following message scrawled on the wall of a building: “Support your local police, beat yourself up.”

When the first officers they met offered to buy T-shirts the cyclists were selling to raise funds, they sighed in relief.

Murrell hoped to finance the trip and even generate enough money to improve his foster homes by soliciting donations. But T-shirt sales were disappointing and Murrell said he expects to pay for at least half of the $10,000 trip out of his own pocket.

After some sightseeing Monday, the group plans to head home Tuesday. This time, they’ll be riding in the van.

“I’ll remember how much I dreaded waking up every morning to stinky feet and smelly armpits,” Martinez said. “But I don’t know if I’m glad it’s over.”