This ride was really Alton Brown’s fault. While watching the Food Channel
years ago, he did a show called Feasting on Asphalt, where he travelled the US
of A in a group of BMW’s searching for different road food. Who couldn’t love a
show like that? And so while planning a summer ride, we have used him as a
guide for eating, and some riding, too. His Highway 61 ride was on the other
night, for those who don’t know, it is the basis for most of the “Great River
Road,” which shadows the Mississippi River, from Louisiana to Minnesota. Or
vice versa if you are vertically challenged. It was like watching a home movie
for us, for we did the ride based on him. Watching as they ate in Mississippi,
we looked back at eating BBQ at Abe’s in Clarksdale, Crossroads of the Blues.
Real pulled pork, eaten the way it should be with cole slaw on the top, between
the buns. Washed down with iced tea, you don’t ask for sweet in the south,
there is no other way. We had previously eaten at Lambert’s, Home of the
Throwed Roll, where servers come around and give you all you can eat tomato
salad, fried okra, and they throw rolls to you, the size of soft balls, and not
from just a few feet, but 30-40 feet across the room. You better be pretty god,
and ready, we saw one kid catch one with his face, try that at your favorite
café. All in addition to what you ordered, for my first time it was chicken
fried steak, which covered the platter, with mashies and green beans on top.
But you can’t beat the rolls, and the food is great-go with a group of friends,
and spend an afternoon gorging. In Illinois,we tried to catch a place called
Eddie’s, a roadhouse, but really a run down bar along the old river road. Sadly
we arrived too early, so on to Quincy it as, still in Illinois. An interesting
place, as there are huge caves, so big semis drive into them and they serve as
wear houses. Along the river, and old, that mid day it was still socked in with
the humidity in the air, June gloom to us in Cali. And riding into town, it is
just another old river town, passed by, with no malls in sight, to me always a
good thing. But our quest for lunch was Maid Rite, a place where they serve
hamburger in buns, but not in a patty, like sloppy joes with no sauce. Old
Alton was excited to find one, they were long thought to have gone out of
business, since starting in 1928, but this one was doing well, real well as we
stopped for lunch. But on the way, I got lost, not really lost as I still had
gas, but I couldn’t remember the name, I called it Merry Maids, which made me
look stupid, bloody tourist, and those who I asked thought I was crazy, what is
a biker from California doing in Illinois anyway? But after some heated
discussions with two women at a convenience store, they figured out what I
meant, and pointed me back to where I had passed it a few times, looking right
when I should have looked left. And there it was, and so were we. I had two,
with fries, and a piece of apple pie, all served on wax paper, or in waxed Dixie
cups, how old school is that? Just school to Maid Rite.
Now I never travel with a GPS, I don’t like them. Give me an old worn out
folding map anytime. You can see more than just a 3x5 screen, you can see where
roads go, roads that branch off from them, and alternative routes. You make the
choice, not the GPS, or the geek who thinks the Jersey Turnpike is a scenic
route. You get to plan, you get to seek alternative routes, and you see
America. Maybe even get lost a time or two, but end up finding roads the locals
ride on as opposed to the roads that are advertised. You find places like Maid
Rite, places like Abe’s, and you cross over rivers on single lane bridges, that
rock and creak under your weight. You meet people, who like you, are tired and
bored with so much technology, and still like to think for themselves, as
opposed to having someone do it for them. We call it freedom, what do you call
it? The ability to make your own choices, a threat to those who are only
digitally enhanced, and who must be led, because they have no ability to lead,
or go it alone. And so as I plan our July trip, only a few days due to finances
and health, I have my old maps out. And go over roads I have travelled, and
note roads I wanted to go on the next time there. Where does that road go?
This time I will find out, and I have found a 12 mile section called the Old
Coast Road, south of Big Sur. I am Highway 1’ed out, I have ridden it so many
times, but have you ridden the Old Road? I will this time. Found on an old
map, and shows even on Google Earth, as an single lane path. You might miss it,
I didn’t. Not a scenic route, just route with scenery. No postcards, no places
to eat. Road warning signs, can’t wait to ride it. For me a road that was
“made right” for our style of travel. A road with no route number, just a
name. You can keep your GPS and its non-exciting routes, we ride.
We want more from our meals, more from our ride, and more from
our God. I am not content to settle for a maybe when praying, or to hear the
same old teaching on a certain scripture. I get bored and upset when I hear of
doubting Thomas-he wasn’t, but it is taught like he was. I get insulted when I
hear the teaching of the thorn in Paul’s side, and what yours might be. Read
the scripture, right there in 1 Corinthians 12 it tells you plainly. How could
you have missed it, or did you just take someone’s word for it? Just like a
preprogrammed GPS, many live for Christ. Following whatever is taught, and
never reading the word themselves. Relying on hearsay, or legend, and taking it
for truth, or worse yet gospel. And so we are told to work out our own
salvation, not be saved, but to strengthen our relationship with Jesus. To
become more like Him. To know the truth when we hear it, and also to be able to
tell a lie, so we don’t repeat one. To know when to turn, or when to go on,
just around the next corner may be the miracle God has planned for you. And as
you go you become familiar with the territory, and suddenly you are not a
sojourner, just passin’ through, but feel like you belong, you feel welcomed,
and comfortable. Where a meal like Maid Rite is the right thing, eating an
extra one, because you may never pass that way again. Taking advantage of the
opportunities God makes available, with hidden blessings behind them.
Life should not be lived like driving on the freeway, just
another numbered exit with franchised food. Give me Joy’s café where I can eat
the special, tenderloin tips, homemade potato salad, drink, and pie for $5, and
get to visit with the cook and the owner-who both ride. Talk with the farmer
who wishes you would stop and talk his wife into letting him get a motorcycle.
Find out the best way around a city, rather than the beltway. Get the best
chocolate ice box pie, the best BBQ, and the best chili dogs. Served by people
giving their best, making you a friend along the way. It works with Jesus too.
Keep it personal. Ask for directions, follow the lead of your heart, dare to be
brave in the spirit. Go where few pastors dare go, where few Christians go, or
have even heard of. Find real life in Christ, and then encourage others. Be
the Tripadvisor.com for the gospel, your journey with Christ a daily life of
excitement. With no GPS points to reference, being guided by the spirit, making
your own decisions. Keeping your tank full, just in case that roads leads you
farther than you anticipated. Don’t limit your travel to what is only found on
a map, go further. Feast on the word, be guided by His spirit, and live and eat
well. Knowing that at the end of the day, you never rode alone. So stretch out
your map today, ask God “where does that road take me?” Find out there is more
to life than you think, and don’t limit yourself, or God. Whether feasting at
Abe’s, or on asphalt, feast on everything God has to offer. And never go
hungry, your stomach filled and your spirit content. Let’s ride. Right after I
finish my last bite of pie. Thanks Alton.
love with compassion,
Mike
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