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There was a time when you shopped for your new ride in a store that may
have handled bicycles lawnmowers, or even sporting goods. No one could make it
a go on just motorcycles, they were too seasonal, what would they do all winter
to pay the bills? And so often the bikes were in the back of the store, out of
sight, only to be found if you were looking for them, or happened to wander off
on your own. Maybe a small sign in the windows, but nothing like today’s mega
stores. And while they sold motorcycles, we still went to the army surplus
store for a leather jacket, winter gloves, and Thom McAns for our boots. Only
in maybe the odd British store would you find your Belstaff jacket, and at
almost $100 cost as much as some of our first motorcycles. Sporting goods
stores would show us back to the hunting section for warm clothes, and R&S
always had a helmet or two gathering dust on a shelf in the bike section. The
Norton dealer might have sold you a K81, or a lawnmower, East Coast Cycles may
have meant Schwinn instead of Yamaha, and Hondas may have been hidden amongst
the hunting gear in Gardenschwartz Sports, but to dress to ride you went
elsewhere. How different things were to become only a few short years later, as
soon you could buy your leathers, gloves, and helmets and include it in the
financing of your new ride. No real biker bought a motorcycle at sporting goods
store, and even Harley moved its storefront location to an old garage, so the
patrons of the respectable businesses didn’t have to step over the grease and
oil. We were becoming respectable, we were told one stop shopping at the dealer
of our choice was the thing to do, and soon fashion was more important than
function. We could still tell the old school bikers by the way they limped in
their engineer boots, how Scrambler types smelled of racing castor, and Honda
riders were clean and neat, almost too clean and neat. But the day was coming
when motorcycles were to become big business, moving out on their own, and
becoming respectable. Well, almost. And we had a new place to hang out and eat
donuts on Saturday mornings while gathering for a ride, or bench racing on snowy
days. Reading free magazines in the men’s room, and asking the mechanic about
why my 750 wobbles at 100? We had become a community of our own, with the
common denominator-we all rode. Brands were of secondary importance, and even 2
and 4-strokes rode together. Ah, the smell of racing castor....and soon the
word motorcycle appeared on billboards telling us of dealers, neon signs telling
us we had arrived, and a parts and accessories department. But things were to
change...and so would we.
The ad I got from Malcolm Smith today said “Malcolm Smith Motorsports.”
Not motorcycles like it has for 50 years. The ad was all about boats, personal
watercraft, or PW in the trade. Boats, trailers, life vests, and boating
supplies at Malcolm’s? The star of On Any Sunday? Yes, boats in a bike shop are
now standard, and have been for 20 years. Where once a shiny line of all the
new Hondas once stood, now they were intermixed with boats and trailers. No
real biker would trailer his bike would he, the trailers had to be a turn off to
us. Blame it on Kawasaki with their Jet Ski from the 1970’s, and today where
once motorcycles were sold amongst hunting gear, bicycles, and lawn mowers, now
we compete for space with boats. One stop shopping for all the trendy who are
seasonal riders, whose FICO score makes them welcome at the motorsports store,
and until it’s riding time, hard to tell the real bikers from those who happen
to own one. What’s next, four wheel drive vehicles? Whatever happened to those
Saturdays among the bikes, with friends who rode? Where do we go to worship,
adore, purchase our freedom, and be amongst others who ride like we do?
Churches today have so many activities that it seems every night the
building is open for someone, some group to meet. Divorced parents, single
moms, AA, high school kids, men’s groups, women’s groups, even some have a
riding group that meets to ride. Many ministries reaching out to many people,
trying to meet their needs. And of course, there is always church on
Sunday...but some have become Sunday skippers, thinking that their needs are
being met in the small groups. Now I have nothing against small groups, but we
miss the mixing of a larger group who have only one thing in common-Jesus. We
pick our night out based on other needs, hoping Christ is in them. Specialized
ministry, but without the blending of the church to help out each other. To
minister to each other, and we find ourselves falling short of what is
available. We may not approve of boats in a bike shop, but have been exposed to
the total market of motorsports through them, with many a skilled rider becoming
an avid watercraft rider. And many a boater finding the joy of the twisties
without trailering a boat to the lake or river. We found waterproof gloves were
great for riding in the cold, and putting the wife’s SUV out in the driveway
could make space for all the toys. And without church, with just your week
night out among your small group of friends, you miss all the toys Jesus has for
you. And the fun of being a Christian, and enjoying the life. These ministries
should supplement, not take the place of church.
At bike nights I may ride my old Suzuki, or the Bonneville, or even a press
bike. But we all have riding in common. At church I may sit by a surfer, a
retired NASA engineer, or a college student. A single mom, or a family of six.
All of us having Jesus in common, uniting in church, and becoming the church.
Like minded yes, but our souls having the commonness of Jesus Christ, instead of
our common problems or interests. And when he becomes our main interest, the
blessings increase, and it is amazing the testimonies we hear. Of who we get to
pray for and with....all outside of our special interest group, as part of the
body. At church the parking lot may have Lexuses, Chevies, and even Hondas,
both car and cycles. SUV’s, minivans, and trucks. Old and new, just like the
people inside. A Sunday morning time of fellowship where it takes all kinds,
and all kinds are welcome. Remember that next time you stumble in on a women’s
group, and you are a male. I have had them stop until I leave, what secrets are
they afraid I’ll hear? Isn’t church supposed to be church, a body of
believers?
And so we find boats in a bike shop. We shop for clothes next to the parts
counter, and sit on new bikes among them. The cool stores still have the free
coffee, the donuts, and the magazines to read while we hang out between rides.
The shop is still open to ask the techs, and we make new friends, find out abut
new roads and rides, and new places to eat. We fellowship, bring along a new
friend, take our kids down with us, and soon they get the fever, just like we
once did at their age. No more lawnmowers, we have gardeners who take care of
that, leaving room for another bike or two. It is all about riding, just as it
should be. If your church is like this, where the coffee and donuts are there,
the pastors are available, and the bookstore is open, don’t miss those times.
Don’t substitute week nights for them, you are missing out. How many would take
their 10 year old to their AA meeting, yet we invite them along to ride? How
many wives feel comfortable, or may even ride, but miss out on the families by
only attending women’s ministries? Or men with men? Add to your life by being
part of the body, some ride, some float but we all enjoy life. Boats in a bike
shop? Makes you wonder just how the old bicyclists felt the day the first
Suzuki arrived? What next, leather jackets? they must have thought. And soon
pedals turned to throttles...we all have Jesus, why not meet together and become
of one body? One spirit, and become one with him? Jesus loves bikers, boaters,
single moms, divorced dads, and even those who don’t like church. Hunters and
fishermen too. Quilters and knitters, chefs and those who only eat. It takes
all of us to be a family...those of us who ride enjoy such a brotherhood. Now
if only the church would get it....we could almost become respectable, well
almost.
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com