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As the truck stops ran further south and east, I thought Texas would never
end. Ride from Jersey to Florida, and that same distance still has you riding
across Texas. We were spending the night with friends of my new found friend
John in Baytown, just outside of Houston. This couple had been in Israel living
on a kibbutz, and their stories were interesting. But interest turned sour when
the party continued after they went to bed, and the sisters next door invited us
over. And my emotions went further south when one pulled a gun on me, and stuck
it on my nose! She thought it was funny, I left-quickly. The uncomfortable
sofa next door felt safe that night. This yellow rose of Texas was not the girl
for me.
The next afternoon found us in New Orleans, with the French Quarter calling
us. It was even hotter there, the humidity higher, and after the aridness of
the desert southwest, this was misery. Add in the van with no AC, and think of
a sauna bath on wheels, we no break for 300 miles. Even the giant bugs seemed
tired. But we did the French Quarter, enjoyed Preservation Hall, even though we
were shoulder to shoulder in the heat, but were overall disappointed with the
French Quarter. Some of the bars, topless and bottomless, made Vegas seem tame,
and one Hurricane was enough to tell us it was time to go. Bourbon Street
turned into a big disappointment for us. No argument or beignets, we were off
to Mississippi, and one state closer to home. We had seen life, although it was
low, and now things that at one time I would have engaged in, now I found
offensive. Was God changing my heart without telling me? Jackson, Mississippi
found us on I-20, and after dark. In these pre-interstate completion days,
there wasn’t a fast food restaurant on every corner, particularly in the south
after hours. So seeing a Burger King open, we headed for the drive thru-the
dining room was closed. The black girl was super friendly, said they were
closed, but since we were so hungry, as we had pleaded, she told us to wait, and
then came back handing us two big bags of Whoppers and fries-no charge. It was
end of the day, and would be tossed out anyway, my first taste of Southern
hospitality, and I still love the south today.
We had been sleeping in the van, and very tired, and very sweaty, we pulled
into Birmingham, got lost when the Interstate ended, ate a BBQ buffet, then
headed north on I-81. Home was within a thousand miles, and somewhere between
wanting to get home and not wanting the trip to end, the mood became somber.
The trip home is never filled with as much excitement as it is when starting
out. After all the humidity, an afternoon of rain in the Shenandoah Valley
cooled things off nicely. The views awesome, but Skyline Drive would have to
wait. Amazing how high humidity is so uncomfortable, but rain which is 100%
humidity can be so cooling and comfortable. But we were within a day’s ride of
home, and distances that at one time had seemed impossible, now were no big
deal. 500-600 mile days were no big deal, even today. The van had had no
problems, other than Brennan falling off the roof when asleep in San Felipe and
the right mirror breaking his fall. A miracle had occurred that I never knew
of, God had healed my engine. So with thoughts of my new found God, I dropped
John off at his house, and headed the last half hour to home. With some
unexpected surprises...
My parents never go anywhere, maybe a morning of golf for my dad, or a trip
to the A&P for my mother, but when I arrived home that afternoon, the only
ones to greet me were their cats. I was living there, having moved back so I
could afford the trip, and the empty house gave me time to reflect. How was I
to explain this trip of a lifetime and the fact I was now Born Again? The trip
descriptions would later come, but how do you describe an infinite God in finite
terms? And when I tried, they thought it was just another California fad. But
my life was to change drastically in the next 90 days, as God began to work in
my life. There would be a huge welcome home party at John’s, friends that
weren’t ready to receive a new and changed Mike, and an old girl friend who
was. Work was even different, as I became indifferent to what used to be
important. No BH around anymore, and when old friends came by, they were
offended by my Bible, and that I was reading it. I still wasn’t sure what was
going on inside of me, just that it was wonderful. But I was also very alone,
as I knew no other Christians, and still didn’t know to pray. John was 3200
miles away, and we would talk sometimes, he has a WATS line at work. But God
knew then and still knows today what we need before we ask, and soon miracles
were abounding. I had lived my dream of driving coast to coast, but was still
waiting for the chance to do it on my motorcycle. But two parties were yet to
happen before that dream would be fulfilled. And everything that I thought was
valuable to me was changing.
My first order of business was getting my motor back from Butler and Smith,
the BMW importers. Who seemed to have lost it, then found it in a dumpster. To
be retrieved later by an employee trying to steal it. But back home, all I had
to do was get it down the stairs from my bedroom upstairs, so Road Aid Frank
could install it, and it ran! I had my bike back, and didn’t realize how much I
had missed riding. It is one thing when you choose not to ride, another when
you can’t. But the van had turned into just what I needed, so no hard
feelings. My next adventure had me going to the Welcome Home party at John’s
parent’s house. F. Scott Fitzgerald was right, the rich are different, and I
didn’t know his parents were. As I rolled up to their home, I was to confirm
that for myself. I was riding alone, but never lonely. And the party was just
beginning...
to be contined,
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com