I stopped by the local Indian dealer to see the flat track model, and get
my free t-shirt. A young guy greeted me, and began to try to sell me one, but
was stopped when I told him I only wanted a demo ride. “Not until March when
they are available,” he told me, and went off to another prospect. I did get my
shirt, but noticed that the crowd was split into two distinct groups, over 60
and under, years, not miles per hour. It seems us older guys were digging deep
into our memories, mine don’t go back as I was born a few years after Indian
folded, but our small group had over 50 years each of bench racing stories to
tell. While the younger group was trying to figure out how to make the payments
on new bike, we were talking of the trials, tribulations, and precious memories
of our riding. I find it interesting, just put two or more riders together, and
the tales begin, and soon as the crowd gets larger, everybody wants a chance to
tell their version of how it was. Of how real men kick started their bikes, how
important it was to mix your two stroke oil correctly, the smell of racing
castor, and friends helping each other Friday nights so we all could do our ride
Saturday. Times spent cussing out British parts, of pinching inner tubes and
then hoping the patch would hold. Gapping spark plugs, cleaning the points, and
changing the oil, with some guys just topping it off, it leaked so bad we called
it self changing. But we all rode, dirty fingernails and bruised hands were
common, and many of us wore boots our wives or girlfriends wouldn’t let us in
the house with. And we could never understand why....
Then my eyes drifted to the younger crowd, talking of rides not taken but
dreamt of. Words like Bluetooth, helmet communicators, and the size of the new
7” screen where the clocks or gauges used to be. No talk of maintenance, except
for changing oil, the computer did it all, very few leaks if any under the
bikes, and their money spent on chrome rather than parts. Where many of us wore
work boots, jeans and t-shirts, maybe an old denim jacket on cool days, they
talked of mesh jackets, Kevlar riding pants, and motorcycle boots. Their
outfits probably cost more than many of our first bikes did, they were looking
to capture our moment in time, by duplicating it as marketing told them, but
missed out on an intimacy of man and machine. Which was brought home to me last
week when having the oil change on my 2015 Tiger 800, and Mick updating the tune
via the most current download. Resetting the service reminder via computer, an
oil change the only service needed. Maybe there is something to the new bikes I
forget lately, I’m riding now instead of fussing, but I still miss the times
spent with friends and our machines. If you are a woman you may not understand,
but guys, if you meet one who does, hang onto her. I do and I did.....
Life has become too technical for me, and also religion. After my open
heart surgery I met a younger guy by 30 years who had a heart condition. At
lunch with his friends, I was reminded of Job, and how he must have felt when
his friends tried to console him, really just making fools of themselves. Each
one at the table was offering this guy advice, based on what they had been
taught, or the latest Christian read. They meant well, but were so far off
base, I finally excused myself and left. Lots of “I nevers” mentioned, and
advice of what they would do in the situation. All superior to the guy who was
suffering and to how I handled it. We were both there, to them it was just an
exercise. To us it was life or death. Good thing it wasn’t their final exam.
The outstanding difference in riders and lunch companions, the older ones
had experience, they had been there. Rather than just have the book knowledge,
the degree, or the diploma, we had done it. Same with Jesus, many church folk
talk a good game, but after the facts and figures have no testimony. Like the
salesman wanting to sell me a new bike, he had all the info, all I wanted was a
ride. I find many people like that with Jesus, they want to meet him, spend
time with him, know him personally, yet are bogged down in religious rhetoric.
I used to only read the study assigned, sometimes being cut off like the tune
into next week cliff hangar, but soon started just reading the Bible, letting
the spirit guide me. Some got educated, I got both, and got to know about him
and him personally. As I teach, read Paul’s letters as letters, and suddenly
they make more sense. Don’t worry about which verse or chapter, just read and
be blessed. With one chapter in John standing out to me in particular, John
17:3-4, the mission of Jesus made real. “Now this is eternal life that they
know you, the only true God and Jesus Christ whom you have sent. I have brought
you glory on earth by completing your work.” But with an added intro, since it
is a letter, I added “Dear Dad,” since it is written by Jesus to his father.
And then closed with, “your loving son, Jesus.” Inspired by the spirit, it made
the words come alive, but I leave you there, as the next few verses would fill a
library of precious time in the spirit for me. Dear Father, when is the last
time you wrote back when you received a letter from him?
So as I walked the showroom, I listened to how much I didn’t know, and also
to how much I have forgotten. Forgotten until needed, and found out that lately
I forget things until needed. My tests are different, my homework not an
exercise but real life, and Jesus not a study topic, but my close friend, Lord,
and savior. Over 1 million miles ridden together, while some like me only went
for the shirt, some went to dream, others to get a test ride, a guided tour.
Maybe that is why so many don’t ride alone, but must in groups, they never have
discovered the freedom in riding alone. Same with Jesus, so many are part of
the group, being part of the 99, missing out on the testimonies and blessings of
being with the one who goes back for the one. Some brag, some dream, some lie,
but until you have experienced Jesus yourself you are missing something. I
don’t know and I forget are too different answers. They tell a lot about how
you got to where you are. Being an old guy I still love to hear the stories of
our past, maybe a note for you young guys. Jesus spent his time on the road,
never inviting others to church. His stories filled with invitations to do the
same. Get out and experience the ride of your life, let Jesus be real and
experience him first hand. John 17:18, “I have sent them out into the world as
you have sent me,” what a great reason to ride. Lately I forget....and all I
went for was a t-shirt....
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com