After a hard summer of working three jobs, my 
best friend Bill Moore and I had save enough money to buy a 
motorcycle-together.  He had built a cool mini-bike, with a chrome moly frame, 
courtesy of Mr. Dempsey, Linda’s dad, and we had been riding Ricky Schill’s 
Honda 50 that had the kit on it to make it look like a real motorcycle, and had 
once ridden his Kawasaki 125-a big bike.  But as 15 year olds, we were still two 
years away from the legal driving age in New Jersey, so the dream was on.  We 
had spent time in the dirt, and on the street, but the street intrigued us 
more-as it led out of town and to places we had only read about.  Now Bill had 
an older brother, in college, who had a friend who worked for Harley Davidson.  
Who we spent an afternoon with talking motorcycles, his stories were definitely 
more exciting than ours.  Our ears anxiously awaiting the next tale.  But when 
we told him that our plan was to buy a Sportster, we were shocked at his 
answer.  He advised us no.  Which made no sense to us, and was about to crush 
our dreams.  The bike that was claimed to put hair on your chest, and if you had 
it, to part it, was being denied to us?  We had cash man, didn’t money talk?  
But he went on to explain further, how expensive they were to buy, but this 
partnership had the money, we could keep it in Bill’s garage, my parents hated 
motorcycles, and we would take turns riding it.  Had it all figured out, until 
he laid the bomb on us, “don’t buy one, they are unreliable, heavy, a high risk 
theft item, and you won’t enjoy it.  Buy a Honda instead, and enjoy riding 
more.”  This from a Harley employee, what was he thinking?  What were we 
hearing?  But yet as anyone knows, the AMF years at Harley were not the best 
years, and so when I was a senior, I bought a brand new 1972 Honda CB350, and 
rode, fulfilling all the dreams Bill and I had had years ago.  But with another 
Bill, as he had a CL77 we rode until it died, then sold to the guy at the Esso 
station for $50, who fixed it up and rode it to school.  But I never forgot this 
advice, given by a man who liked motorcycling and motorcycles.  Good advice 
isn’t always what we want to hear.  But only works if taken.
We still cruised the motorcycle stores, Honda 
was close, and didn’t chase us off, the Norton dealer was open on weird days,  
Yamaha went ring a ding ding, and they sold BMW’s, in the back of this 
hardware/bicycle shop.  The Triumph/Kawasaki/Ossa dealer was 12 miles away, and 
the Harley store was in a storefront, across from the train station in 
Plainfield.  Pop owned it, wasn’t too fond of us kids, so the Honda store was 
where we went and worshipped, knowing we would just meet the nicest 
people.
Motorcycles-what we took before Viagra.  Despite 
the warning that if it had wheels or wore a skirt it would break your heart, and 
wallet, we rode.  And in this era when the air was dirty, and sex was becoming 
clean, we chose to ride.  Which put  us into an elite group, those who rode.  
And while so many classmates were still negotiating to borrow Dad’s station 
wagon for a date with Betty Sue, and to be back home in bed by midnight, without 
Betty Sue, we were out riding.  No problem ever with girls, but not the kind you 
brought home to meet the parents.  But with all our funds going to riding, we 
didn’t mind, we rode.  And as another wise sage once said, “motorcycles are 
almost as good as sex, but you can do it more often.”  Not sure about the sex, 
but more often on my Honda was never enough.  So more often was OK with me.  And 
so it was with the old adages, old advice, and the stereotypes we met, and were 
labeled as.  Our heroes were Little Fauss and Big Halsey, we even carried our 
toothbrushes in our back pocket like Halsey.  We still wanted to cruise America 
like Wyatt and Billy, but on our Hondas instead of the Sportster we had dreamt 
of.  Harley was still almost a generation from reinventing itself with the help 
of a Federal tax burden placed on imported bikes, you still met the nicest 
people on a Honda, now just with 4 cylinders, you knew some who were letting the 
good times roll on the Kawi, and some still Soloed Suzuki.  Triumphs were for 
the sporty guys, who we rode with, but we knew that we would and could outlast 
them.  Just not out leak them.  But we all rode together, each of the belief 
that our bike was the best, but always dreaming of the next, bigger, faster, and 
more expensive bike to grace our garage.  Did you see the cover of Cycle World 
this month? The dream rekindled.  We were young, and nothing would stand in our 
way.  Except cops, parents, the threat of college, jobs, and a girlfriend who 
didn’t ride.  We had it all, including the future to do it in...but something 
was missing.
Ecclesiastes tells us of a man searching for 
happiness.  He is rich, handsome, and has many wives and girlfriends.  In 
today’s world he would have many cars, motorcycles, and all the toys.  He would 
be the one with the sign that says “He who dies with the most toys wins.”  But 
underneath you find these guys unhappy.  Using all their resources, and credit 
line, they try to buy happiness.  Confusing happiness, and emotion, fleeting and 
temporary, with joy, an affair of the heart.  Wives and girlfriends get traded 
like cars, always hoping the next one will be better than the last, if not, 
there are more out there to choose from.  We see them show up as posers, shiny 
leathers, too much chrome, and too few miles, just trying to fit in.  It takes 
more than $20,000 and 20 miles to be a biker, but their approach to life is 
superficial, like the searcher.  He seeks the things of God, believing they are 
God, letting his whole world revolve around him.  He might even be saved, but 
living in a fallen state, Jesus saved him, but is not his Lord, yet.  He tries 
various churches, until he finds one that will accept him, and his actions.  But 
doesn’t offer any hope to escape the trap he is in.
When along comes someone free in the spirit.  
Who has decided to give it all to Jesus, and let Him be Lord.  And as he watches 
this man sold out to God enjoy life, he wants that too.  But he finds that he is 
too attached to his things, and cannot and will not give them up.  The same 
things that are bringing him down, he won’t take the advice given.  Even when 
given by another just like him, who has made the right choice.  And so he 
suffers needlessly, always searching, but never finding, when he is only one 
choice away from freedom.
He is afraid to exercise the little faith he 
has, to please God and open up the doors of joy.  He still seeks other ways, 
when Jesus reminds him “He is the way, the truth, and the life.”  And as he gets 
older, he gets lonelier.  No love in monthly payments.  No joy after everyone 
else has seen your new toy.  No blessings to enjoy from God when you are God in 
your own life.  And he finds that the guy who dies with the most toys wins 
nothing, and his life has been a rehearsal for eternal failure.  He had met the 
nicest people, just not the one who could save him.  From himself.  Yet so many 
want to be like him, yet don’t see the sadness in him.  If only he had taken the 
advice given by someone who knew, like the advice Bill and I had taken from our 
friend at HD.  How different things might have turned out if we spent more time 
fixing than riding in our youth?
How about you?  Are you in for repairs too 
often, when if you took care of your life you could avoid them?  Maintenance can 
be expensive, but can be planned for and budgeted.  Who among us plans for 
failure?  So why not turn it over to God right now.  Use the tiny bit of faith, 
and watch as trust grows, as you know Him better.  As you experience happiness 
in the form of blessings, and true joy that comes from the heart.  You never 
know who is watching, you bad example can turn into the testimony that someone 
else is looking for.  Better than riches, cars, sex, and even motorcycles.  
Jesus is the best and only way.  Viagra for the soul, that needs no 
prescription.  A ride to look forward to, not to be avoided.  Turning sorrow and 
grief into joy.  And providing more time to ride, and spend with Him.  Think 
about it, are those things you are holding on to that precious you won’t let go 
of them for eternal joy?  
Riding and what you ride is a personal thing.  
So is choosing Jesus.  Not someday a better way, He is the way.  All that hard 
work only to end in broken dreams is no way to live.  Live your life in Christ, 
search no more.  For where the spirit of the Lord is there is liberty.  
Jesus-the only freedom better than riding.  Why not choose both today?  Good 
advice from a friend who knows, and made the right choice years ago.  And it 
still only works if taken.
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com




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