The day Interstate 78 opened in New Jersey the whole world changed. At
least locally for us. Where it once was an arduous ride on US 22, the busiest
road in the US of A to see my Grandparents, passing such icons as the Leaning
Tower of Pizza, The Flagship, and eateries such Texas Weiner and the Steer Inn,
now it was without a stoplight for over 40 miles, with only an occasional exit
to remind us when to get off. A bucolic countryside of patchwork farms, opening
up a view to what many don’t believe could or does exist in Jersey. It was
smooth, fast, and at least at first a great place to drag race. The future was
upon us, and old roads like Route 22 would soon become obsolete. Along with the
many businesses that lined them. Many family owned businesses ending after
decades, all due to reduced traffic on the alternate modern route. Where once
you had to dodge 18 wheelers heading to port in New York City, families heading
to eat at Howard Johnson’s and waiting for the light to turn green, now all you
had to do was point and steer. Remember what exit you had to get off at, and
then make a new path to your final destination. Limited access freeways they
were called, with all the flavor of artificial vanilla, and all the color of off
white. But they were new, and at least for awhile exciting, until the boredom
set in. And suddenly the traffic on Route 22 didn’t seem all that bad, the
burgers at Steer Inn not so greasy, and Two Guys not such a bad place to shop.
We were being homogenized, not necessarily a bad thing, but the process was
taking away a vestige of individuality, of creativity, of the “you can make it
in America” promise we learned in elementary school. The roads were smooth, no
curves, you by passed Jugtown Mountain, and now a stop at Cappy Dick’s for a
soft serve required knowing what exit to get off at. For the farm stand the
same, even the old free bridge to Easton was by passed, a new toll bridge taking
its place. What was once an interesting if sometimes arduous ride was now
reduced to 40 minutes of pretty countryside, with no sign of life except for
dairy cows. Who didn’t seem particularly impressed by the new road’s invasion.
The roads were better, the views prettier, no traffic lights, but also no
interaction, or very little between drivers. No more nodding at the guy next to
you at a light, or asking directions when stopped. Now you kept going, eyes
ahead and focused at a scary, steady 60 mph, with only 77 WABC to keep you
company, when it wasn’t blocked out from the hills. The whole world had changed
right before our very eyes, and the dream we had envisioned was now here. But
where were we headed? And how would we know when we got there?
Over 40 years of riding and driving have given me a unique perspective of
traffic, drivers, and the roads we travel. A man on a motorcycle having his
clutch cable break reminded me of how dependent we have become. In the past we
would have kept going, and made it home. This man panicked and pulled over,
until I came along and rode it home for him. His cell phone his only tool, how
did we get along without them? I watch as with computers, you just turn the car
on and drive off, remember hitting the gas twice, then turning the key? Letting
it warm up before it could be driven off? We used to have a choice between
regular and no-lead, now we get no-lead only. Where once we downshifted in bad
weather to get down Jugtown Mountain, now the freeway bypassing it allows you to
maintain a steady speed. No freeway runoffs, no truck lane only, no backup of
traffic going down, or up. With the cruise control set, your AC set to a
comfortable level, and your Sirius radio playing only what you want to hear, you
sit in isolation from the world. Everything is better than it once was, but we
have become casualties of progress. Rough roads, turns, elevation changes, and
other traffic made us better drivers. We had to be just to avoid the newer
ones, who never drove Route 22. And we were faced, and still are faced today
with the results that smooth roads do not make better drivers. Or riders.
An old driving tip of putting your right front wheel against the curb to
follow the road in a snowstorm now is obsolete. Downshifting going down hills,
turning off the AC going up, actually looking at maps as opposed to mindlessly
following a GPS has put us out of touch we reality. Windows up, don’t look at
other drivers, and heaven help anyone interfering with your piece of the road.
Road rage has now replaced road manners and courtesy, you don’t even have look
at your fuel gauge, a voice will tell you how many miles till empty. Taking all
the interaction of driving has made us numb, and a generation of bad drivers. I
have a nephew who couldn’t roll down the windows in my truck, they aren’t
power. Christopher drove the whole time on a trip to France, he was the only
one who could drive a stick. An arrow even tells us which side the fuel filler
is on, but yet too many cannot figure it out, just watch at any gas station.
Which we used to call service stations....Better cars, better roads, but not
better drivers. And next time you get cut off by an SUV with the driver under
the influence of cell phone or children, don’t blame them. Someone passed them
on their driver’s test! Hands at 2 and 10, don’t adjust the radio or the
mirror. We would have been failed for that....today point, steer to avoid, and
if the road is rough, pull over and call AAA. All the while complaining.
Roads were meant to take us places, and in Isaiah 40:4 we find a prophetic
statement in regards to interstate travel. “Every valley shall be raised up,
every mountain and hill made low, the rough ground shall become level, and the
rugged places a plain.” Sounds like my kind of road for riding, until we find
that describes the interstate. And also the relationship of many with Christ.
“Come to Jesus and everything will be alright,” yet the next day we go out and
find our tire flat. Not what we signed up for, but it is exactly what we signed
up for, a life where we need God. Where we cannot go it alone, where 2
Corinthians tells us we need him. We are “hard pressed on every side, but not
crushed, perplexed but not in despair, persecuted but not abandoned, struck down
but not destroyed.” So that Jesus may be seen in us, and how when we let him
handle the rough roads, he will get us through. It is the rough roads that make
us stronger, that bring us closer to God, so if the road you are on is rough, it
is probably the right one. If your testimony is how you managed to make it over
them with God’s help, you are closer to him. But if you insist on freeways
only, taking the shortest way to get there, you miss out. You miss the valleys
where the mist hangs in the mornings, the smell of the atmosphere, and
interacting with others. You miss the view when you get to the top, and the
appreciation of what it took to get there, and how Jesus got you there. You
miss the interaction with people, and sitting at the counter at Jimmy’s eating a
hot dog. Drinking a buttermilk with a red hot on the way home. You miss out on
having to acquire driving skills and having to use them, or to helping out
others. And you miss a side of God you will never see if you never have
trouble. It is in the tough times, the rough roads, the buckling asphalt that
we need a strong suspension, only found in Jesus.
Consider getting out of Bible study and into ministering. If the seat of
your pants is wearing faster than the soles of your shoes, you need to get out
and into Jesus. Route 22 is calling in many ways, what will your answer be?
The highway or the easy way? The freeway or a back road where you get to see
Jesus? Consider eating a DQ under trees instead of at a truck stop, a real
hamburger instead of tasteless patty at a chain, and consider Jesus when
choosing life. Rough roads make great rides, but only for those skilled
enough. You will never know until you get out and see. You think you have
talent, God sees your potential. Who you see will tell you where you are going
and where you will end up. And as any biker will tell you not all curves are
unwelcome. Jesus knows that too. Now, which road will you take today, the
exciting way in Jesus or the freeway? Both come with a price....it’s not too
late to change the road you’re on.
While you stand in line and order a #2 super sized, make mine a chili dog
with extra onions, where I can sit and see my bike as the traffic goes by.
Where the waitress calls you honey, the table sticky, and the soda cold. Along
with others who chose to get off the freeway and back into life. Talking with
others, a fellowship on and of the road. Excuse me while I pass the ketchup to
the guy next to me. For his fries, not his hot dog, for there are still some
things you never should do. Jesus Christ, “hi, come here often?” He’s regular
in my ride, I hope he is in yours, too.
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com