Speed is a relative thing. Fast is anyone passing me, slow is anyone
getting in my way. And although our thought processes may slow down, the speed
in our memories never do. It may take more time to recall them, but we were
faster back then, and with fewer witnesses around to dispute it, the speeds will
get faster. Remember the first ride in a fast car? And how cool it was? How
about the first time you actually drove one? And no matter how fast you didn’t
go, you told everyone else how fast the car was, and the speeds it hit. So out
there we have the legendary 150 mph Sportster, the Bonneville that will go 200,
and 100 mph Beetle. One of my favorites was the guy who would place a $5 bill
in the glove box door crack, and dare anyone to grab it when he took off. The
legend says a hundred dollar bill, I did see a five once, and it bought us lunch
at McDonalds. But somewhere in the lies, dreams, fabrications of truth, and the
afternoon bench racing, there were some fast cars and bikes. And I saw some,
rode one, and rode in others. In high school, some older guys took a 454 Chevy
Rat motor, a race motor, and put it in an old 1967 Chevelle 4 door sedan, and
challenged people to race. You would have thought the lumpy idle would have
given this sleeper away, but many a GTO and Hemi saw only its tail lights
dragging down Mountain Avenue. Perhaps the first four door sedan I ever had
respect for. Wonder what ever happened to it? Bouke had a 1973 Z-1, with a
Yoshimura kit. It was fast I thought because he was, but one afternoon on River
Road I pegged the throttle in second gear, and hung on for life. It hit 102 in
second, at a time when 100 mph top speed, the ton, was a lot. I remember it
because my helmet blew off my head, and I was more afraid of a Bound Brook cop
ticketing me for no helmet rather than the speed. Bouke was always the fastest,
I’m sure he rides a ZX-14 today, probably with a turbo. The stock ones do 102
in first....maybe times have changed. Lucio and I cut school one day our senior
year, and went down to the Shore in his Trans Am, 1972 version. The first time
I ever went 120, the car seemed to float over the rises on the Garden State
Parkway, I was scared, but more excited. If anyone would believe me. Just two
17 year olds having fun.
And so it goes, and no matter how fast you were, someone will always be
faster. He may not be telling the truth, but he will win the argument, if only
by default. Now I can say I have really gone 136 mph on a BMW, spent the night
in jail for it, the ticket was even framed and hung in the service department at
Motorsport in Albuquerque. I have ridden coast to coast in under 70 hours,
receipts to prove I rode, family to see me off and to greet me later. 100 miles
per hour, how about 100 miles in one hour? Done it twice on my FJ1100, once in
eastern Colorado, and once between Baker and Vegas. With Christopher on back.
So I can say I have gone fast, quick, long distance, and can prove it. Sadly I
had many tickets, and lost my license once to prove it also. So I am amused
when filling up, and a young kid asks “what’ll she do?” to a cycle I’m riding,
and looking at the speedo will see 160. “Wow, it goes that fast?” and not
wanting to spoil his illusion, nod in agreement. Now it’s his story to tell,
and the legend continues. Now speed being relative, a few years ago I rode a
Street Triple, that recorded the highest speed. I showed 131, and was
impressed. Until I saw a black one that had just come back from a magazine, it
showed 148. 131 never felt so slow. On my Street Triple today it only shows
124, tied with Andrew. I hit the rev limiter on my FJ100 once, according to
Yamaha that is 155, according to my old friend Brett, “faster than any sane
white man should go.” So I have ridden fast, gone fast, been caught going fast,
and hung on for life going fast. So when someone tries to impress me by fast, I
sit quiet, because although I was fast, and still can be if I want, most of my
friends were faster. Some may beat me to the first corner, but many don’t lead
me out of it.
One Sunday afternoon in Golden, NM this guy challenged me to race. He
claimed he had Ron Pierce’s race bike, when he was the #4 plate in the early
seventies. Kept in his van, he kept taunting me telling me my R90S was slow.
Everyone knew BMW’s were slow. So finally tired of being taunted, especially in
front of the two hot girls he had with him, we raced. Covering 14 miles in
just over 7 minutes. And I beat him, by so much I was sitting off my bike
waiting. He had more bike than talent, I had more cajones. Embarrassed, he
never said a word, but took off ahead of me, giving the illusion he won upon
return. But he was embarrassed, he and a friend threw the bike in his van, the
hot girls still hot, but now consoling him. But he still won them, even though
he lost the race. And the next day the word was on the streets....no one ever
went that fast on a BMW!
We have become a society of sound bites, sound clips, and headlines. No
one wants to read the article, say it all in the headline. So that banner
better be pretty impressive...or you will lose your audience. Some 70 years ago
a Baptist preacher from North Carolina was out barn storming the country. He
was drawing crowds, people were being saved, and soon he was filling stadiums.
When one Bill Hearst heard of him, he liked his message, although we never did
know how he responded to it himself. But his two word headline, sent out to his
nationwide newspaper empire changed the preacher’s life. It read “PUFF
GRAHAM!” The Graham being Billy, the Hearst being William Randolph. And the
rest is history.. as Billy’s crusades continue even today under Greg Laurie’s
Harvest Crusades. But it took Hearst to help out Billy. A fact that many don’t
know. And are even more amazed that a secular man like Hearst would puff
Graham. yet we see in scripture many who helped forward the gospel, even if
they didn’t know it. Jesus tells us “all things work together,” all meaning
excludes nothing, includes everything. All. Both good and evil, both good
times and bad. And history tells us that every time the church was persecuted,
the gospel message expanded even further. Seems when the church couldn’t meet,
they took the message to the streets. And the church grew. And it continues
today, where in places like China, Sudan, India, and other dark areas, the
gospel is going out. Muslims being saved in the Middle East. Churches
springing up in China so fast the government ignores them, they can’t police the
growing numbers. For just like it takes sand to irritate a clam and make a
pearl, all things work together for good for those who seek God. And we are
that all that he uses. Sometimes one on one, sometimes to a group of students,
and some like Billy and Greg. Sharing a simple message of salvation, making it
all about Jesus. Keeping it simple, so people like me can get it. In this life
you will have tribulation, so you can expect the gospel to grow around you. It
is your choice to hear a story, or be part of the story.
And so today we find Jesus at race tracks, biker hang outs, drive ins, and
even churches. Wherever two of us are, the gospel goes out, for he is with us.
Sharing testimonies of how he changed our lives, and no matter how incredible,
they are more believable than most bench racing stories. For an infinite God
doesn’t cut back on power, or his might, and his spirit still saves. 0 to
heaven in the twinkling of an eye. 1/240,000th of a second. I’m sorry, I
thought you said you were fast. So today as the speeds increase as our memories
fade, Jesus never fades. A light you cannot outrun, and a friend who sticks
with you at any speed. His truth beats any lie of Satan, and he backs it up.
Listen to a testimony and share yours. See lives changed. Dare someone to grab
the $5 bill hanging in front of him. But do it fast, time is passing, and his
coming is closer today than yesterday. Fast is a relative term, we are family
with God. How’s that for a theory of relativity? How many have you passed
today on your way to heaven? How many will you pass today?
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com