Mostly I remember all the snow. Lots of it, and for days that turned into
weeks, that turned into months. 96 inches at one point in 96 hours, 8 feet in 4
days for those who went to public school. And the winter of 1978 in Durango
brought out so many cases of cabin fever, that the ones who make decisions on
such things decided to have a winter carnival, Snowdown. Get all the skiers,
sledders, and snowmobilers out and have a weekend party at the end of January.
And so they did, and so I became a part of it, not sure if I remember how, but
they asked me to sponsor some motocross races in the snow. So I did, and never
having seen a motocross race before, had my friend Pete help, he raced. We were
given a D-8 CAT, an operator, and for an afternoon laid out a track where Bodo
Industrial Park is now. In the snow and cold, while it was still snowing. Only
to find all the markers we had laid out were buried, and the ground too hard to
move. Frozen to about 18 inches down we were told. So in desperation, on the
Friday the day before the race, we found some flat land adjacent to it, and the
D-8 moved snow and anything else it could, leaving an oval track with snow berms
over 4’ high in places. We had the track, but we forgot things like a pit area,
places to park and watch, and where to put the ambulance they required. We had
no idea who or if anyone would show up, and what the weather would be. But when
we rose early that morning, the sun was out, the sports and weather girl told us
a high in the 40’s, we were excited. And when we got to the track, many riders
were waiting, having set up their own pit area. The race was on!
Around 40 race starved riders would show up, we even had one guy who wrote
for Cycle World enter. He was a pretty boy, with a van and a pop up, even had
pants and jersey, where as all the others were in denim and flannel. When he
started to act like he was better, he was forced into a snow berm, and put out
of the race...on the first turn. These guys rode hard...and it wasn’t pretty.
But the day turned magical, for as the sun melted the snow it formed puddles,
and the earth turned to mud. So deep in some places that the bikes would get
stuck, and the last straight to the finish was 200’ of deep mud. But it was
warm, hey it was 45 degrees, and we were riding. And as far as spectators, we
had so many fans show up we had traffic jams. They lined the track, and at
first it was out of control, or seemed so. The snow mobile race was held right
below us, and as the day went on, the snow mobile racers would park along the
ridge watching. And their fans followed, with only a few hard core snowmobilers
left watching. So few that the next year they moved their race, and made
parking for us and places to watch. The fans, the riders, and the snowmobilers
loved it, with the last race of the day ending when all the racers got stuck in
the mud, and people jumped out of the crowd and pushed them across the finish
line! It turned out to be one of the most popular events in an area where
Purgatory Ski area ruled, but once again showed the brotherhood of bikers. No
one cared about the lack of prizes, Pete and I had eaten the free Big Mac
coupons we were given, they had gotten out and ridden, something no one does in
the snows of January in Colorado. The weather had cooperated, and even though
it snowed again the next day, for one brief shining moment we had motorcycle
paradise.
Being there in the beginning, I wish I had taken more pictures, and saved
newspaper articles. Seems my memory is a little tainted in some areas, time
will do that. Also being in the heat of the moment as opposed to just watching
will give a different perspective. So much was going on that winter, and
although survival was at the top of the list, we needed to eat those free Big
Macs, it seems we cannot get enough of history and anecdotes about what it was
like. Sometimes we think that it is all new for us, just because it is all new
to us. Durango had seen lots of snow before that winter, cabin fever was
nothing new, and we learned why the older homes had doors to the outside on the
second floor, with no porch. So they could get out in the deep snow. Yet we
clamor for new adventures, it seems the eye cannot get enough of seeing, the ear
enough of hearing, and the mind enough of exercising creativity. Even as we get
older, the desires to see new places is still there, even if the mode isn’t.
Yet we find Ecclesiastes tells us there is nothing new under the sun, life is
all a rehash of what has happened before. Think of it as once again for the
very first time, and although life can be wearisome, we cling to it. The
stories being told to the next generation, the snow deeper, the temperature
colder, and we were broker. But there has to be something else to life...what
is it? The what is really a who in the form of a person, Jesus Christ. For God
so loved us, he sent him, to be the way back to him. He either creates or
allows the circumstances that we are in, and uses them to turn us to him.
Leaving the turning point up to us, never forcing his will. So if you are just
treading water in life, bored at work, at odds with your family, or putting off
buying that new motorcycle, turn to Jesus now and ask him for advice. It is
called prayer, and after asking, listen, and you will know what to do.
Scripture tells us he will give us our heart’s desire, and when you make him
your heart’s desire, the blessings increase daily. They add up higher than the
snow can, and with more to come. Seeing life through his eyes allows you to see
all God has planned for us. Which beats riding on a D-8 CAT in the middle of a
blizzard, what were we thinking. It was a free ride, but got us nowhere.
Except cold. And frustrated. Ever fell that way, Jesus is the answer. Yet in
our restlessness we cling to anything that comes along...
So many that are complaining today about the 40+ inches of snow in Boston
will later brag about how they made it through. The afterglow is brighter than
the fire in or memories. But why not have memories of how Jesus took you
through, how without him you would not have made it? Travel, ride, race, live,
or even just endure life , and when he is added in life is worth the living.
Snowdown is now in its 37th year, all the old faces except for a few are gone.
Sadly so is Terry Feidler who was the heart and soul of it, succumbing to
Alheizer’s. The memories will be replayed but he will not remember. And when
we are gone, who will tell the story, before it is rewritten gently forgetting
the facts of how it was. I was there, and Jesus is still here today. Blizzards
will come and go, spring will finally arrive, and heaven awaits those that
believe. Eye has not seen, ear has not heard, nor mind imagined the kingdom
that awaits us. There are no travel brochures, no stickers, or t-shirts. It is
all about him, and the closer to him we get, the sooner we will see heaven, with
a glimpse of coming attractions from him. Don’t wait for the snow to buy a
shovel, come to Christ now. Mostly I remember the snow, but I know it was the
Lord who blessed and got us through. For one brief moment there was
Snowdown...heaven is calling, what will your answer be? By the way, January
1979 was the coldest January ever recorded in Durango, average temp. 22
degrees! There are those that ride...and those that don’t. The part you play
in the memory is up to you.
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com