Too young for Woodstock, BH and I jumped at the chance for the next great
event in the summer of 1973. Summer Jam it was called, in the beautiful area of
Watkins Glen, New York. Mention the Glen and you think of race cars, sights and
sounds of the track, and the perfect small town venue for a race. Add in miles
and miles of great riding roads, and the trip can be the destination, which it
ended up for us. Without a 4 laner in sight, these wonderful two lane rides
became one long parking lot, for dozens of miles. It had become another
Woodstock based on traffic alone, and we were part of the problem, our only hope
that of being on our motorcycles, BH on his CB750, me on my R60/5. It had been
a fun ride from our home in Jersey after work, what were we thinking leaving so
late on a Friday for the Saturday show? But as the traffic slowed, and then
stopped, we came to a Y in the road, and like Yogi Berra once advised, we took
it.
For in the center of the island of the Y, was another BMW motorcycle, like
mine, except his rear wheel was off, and he was trying to fix the flat. Now
BMW’s of the /5 era were easy to fix tires on, the tool kit even came with a
patch kit and tire irons, so we stopped to help. We were stopped anyway...and I
helped him patch the tube, then remount the tire on the rim. Taking a break,
it was after all a warm summer night, and it was the heat and the humidity, we
let the tire and wheel sitting next to his bike. Suddenly out of nowhere a car
came driving by us, up into the island between the Y, narrowly missing us, but
running over his wheel, then driving off. How he did it I don’t know, but off
he sped, leaving my friend with his tire repaired, but his wheel now bent into a
V, our really maybe a U. A sad faced U. Held on its side it looked like it was
smiling at you, but none of us were smiling. He was stuck, his bike immovable,
the wheel damaged forever. We had no other choice than to leave him and his
broken ride alone, he was going to leave the bike, and hitch hike the rest of
the way. We wished him well and left...I hope he made it to the show. I hoped
we would too.
We never did. Watkins Glen was overrun with people, cars everywhere,
property being damaged-out of control. It was after midnight, so tired and
wasted we rode on, leaving the chaos and confusion behind us. My first lane
splitting experience. And not on a freeway. Sleeping on the porch of some
summer cabins, until a helicopter woke us up, it was the Grateful Dead! They
had the best way in, we were barely awake, they waved, we nodded, and then
nodded off. And then the rains came...and the ghost of Woodstocks past had come
for the weekend.
The rest of the weekend turned into a long ride, my first adventure of
following a direction instead of having a destination. And across New York
state we rode, turning around in Batavia, then riding south to Lewisburg, and
bunking at BH’s old college Bucknell. The weekend was appropriately named,
except the Summer Jam of The Dead, The Band, and The Allman Bros. turned into a
traffic jam, and but at least I can say we saw the Grateful Dead. We felt bad
leaving our stranded friend at the Y of the road, even though we left at his
insistence, I can still see him holding his bent wheel. And it could have been
us...
Do unto others as you would have the do unto you, says the Golden Rule. And
not even the contemporary distortion of he who has the gold rules could have
helped him that night. But we stopped, and at least he had someone to suffer
with. And many times in the future would I need help, and someone would stop.
Like angels sent from God, they have always appeared when we needed them. A
loving blend of the Golden Rule mixed with God’s grace. So often we take
scripture as it is written, with no input via the spirit. The “God says it, I
believe it, that settles it” mentality is really just being selfish. Without
love, you may get rescued, but then again you may not. We never met the Good
Samaritan, he of hated heritage, we don’t know who the victim was either. Maybe
his tire had gone flat. But he was sent help via the spirit, saved or not. For
God loves us even while we were yet sinners, his love doesn’t start when our
names become listed in the Lamb’s Book of Life. But also nothing is said of the
innkeeper, who took the wounded man in, and would care for him. Yes he was
paid, but only for the room, his responsibility ending there. But here we
really get to see Jesus in action, and scripture come alive, as it would later
be written, that one planted, another watered, but God provided the growth.
That night the man with the flat was the wounded, we came along and did
what we could. Sometimes as Christians we think we have to do it all, when God
just has you do one thing, maybe just get the man to the inn. Then the
innkeeper, who had the place for recovery would take over. We enact this by
inviting someone to church, then it is the pastor’s job to save them, but that
is a distortion. Jesus calls us friends, we aren’t to just bring them in and
leave them at the altar, but to love and continue to disciple as the spirit
leads. And only God knows the plan, we don’t. We need to pay attention, or we
could be the next flat tire that gets run over. Or left for dead....or left
behind. Today you may only plant seeds of love, or you may pour water on them,
showing the love of Christ. Or you may be called to pray with someone, give
them a ride, or listen to them, offering the wisdom of God. Only do what God
asks, nothing else. Only Jesus saves, we are just the messenger.
So although we missed the concert, we were part the 600,000 people traffic
jam. Part of the problem, but yet in the midst of it all, we were able to
help. We did all we could, then it was up to the next guy. We need to trust
God, for my $10 that weekend I expected to see a show, and what I saw was a
glimpse of God. Still unsaved, I was able to later look back and see his hand
on us, and already giving me a heart to serve. To stop and offer assistance.
And to see him in action. To see the fact that while we were yet sinners, Jesus
died for us. And in a strange twist, I did get to see the Grateful Dead. Up
close from the porch. But what I really remember, was that bent rim, and the
look of desperation on the guy’s face. Do what you can today, stop when the
spirit calls you to stop, and minister as needed. We had ministered to him just
by stopping, we took the time. You may be in a jam now, he was, and thousands
of people never took the time to stop. Jesus took the time to stop for you,
pass it on. I kept the ticket from Ticketron, still have it. One evening we
were on the way to the show, the next moment on the side of it. Some call AAA,
I find it best to call on Jesus, before the ride. He is always there for us,
and there to get us out of a jam. Summer or not. But lastly, we were shown
another scripture come to life, as we rode 500 miles in heavy rain. The rain
falls both on the just and the unjust. But now I see how he protects both. And
in Christ I can now testify. I wonder what the victim’s first words were when
he woke up in the inn? What would yours be?
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com