Friday, May 20, 2016

I think I need a ride















The early eighties were a wonderful time to be a motorcycle rider, as if any time isn’t a good time to ride.  But with the four Japanese makers going head to head, horsepower growing by leaps and bounds, and only inflation against us, we had many choices to cover our 24.9% interest rates.  The magazines were filled with ads, a catalog compared to today’s thin, and physically smaller excuses.  And a generation of riders who never knew soaked feet from tickling carbs, breaking an ankle from the kick starter coming back at them, and no British motorcycles to excite them.  All Jap brands ended in a vowel, and sounded Japanese, only BMW, Moto Guzzi, and Ducati were Euro, and Harley provided the only American brand.  Much different than the brands available today.  But these young Japanese companies, some only in the states since 1955, others only making bikes for less than 20 years, had taken over the market.  And now competed against each other instead of the Brits.  And one company, Kawasaki, decided to run a contest via one of the magazines, “design the perfect motorcycle.”  We had numerous bench racing sessions about how we would do it, and even one guy sent in his style of blueprints.  An exciting time, as we actually thought the factory was listening, when in reality they were trying to unload the warehouses from overbuying, hoping they could sell them all.  Making it possible to buy a year old new bike for substantially less, if you could live without the current colors.  But the future was still exciting, and with 6 cylinder Hondas, 100 horsepower Suzukis, and shaft drive Yamahas, Kawasaki held its ground, although the Z-1 was nearing 10 years old, retirement age then for motorcycles.  So the contest may have been more hype the genuine interest, but one creative type took it upon himself to enter a current year Suzuki as the motorcycle Kawasaki should build.  And in the spirit of competition, and fun, remember when riding a motorcycle was all about fun, the magazine supporting the contest gave it an honorable mention.  I cannot say if it helped ether bike’s sales, but we all got a good laugh out of it. And Kawasaki continued to let the good times roll. 
But we were at an age and interest level where each road test was read, rather studied.  That 1/10 of a second in the quarter swayed more than one decision of what to buy.  Rear disc brakes, comfortable seats, a tank that held enough gas, and factory bags and windshields made Windjammers, drum brakes, and worn out seats less desirable.  My old Z-1 seat had gotten so hard my friend used to joke “the only reason they put a cover on it was so it wouldn’t rust.”  Dainty posteriors would never accept the old seats of yore.  But with each new issue, each new article and road test, we became self proclaimed authorities on at least our own brands, and the debates would get heated many times.  We believed what we read, and it made a direct influence on what we rode.  We thought we were experts, much to the chagrin of an old Triumph ad, where Honda riders were enthusiasts, only Triumph riders knew their machines.  Maybe because they were fixing them more...
But we each were authorities in our own right, especially when opinions were to be accepted as fact.  And like Hondas, everyone had one or two.  We read it, so it must be true.  But still with a common denominator, we all rode.  That was the important thing, we all rode.  And many rainy days were spent at the local shop, sitting and dreaming of the next bike, if only we ever paid off the current one, with the future of what came next from the manufacturers helping us dream.  You knew the parts guy, the mechanic, usually the owner, and a salesman or two.  You talked motorcycles, roads, places to go, places traveled, whether a full face or open face helmet was better, why anyone would ride a Harley, and how could anyone afford a BMW?  Brochures were free and available, and many ended up at home on the kitchen table, or stapled to the garage walls.  A great time to be a motorcyclist, and we knew the future would only get better.  And more expensive....but we were ready.  So enough talk, let’s ride!
From the first time I entered a bike shop, I wanted to be part of the brotherhood.  The smell of racing castor, combined with smoke from two strokes and Chesterfields, was an aroma I never forgot.  We listened to the old guys tell stories, make fun of our newness, and with every joke made about us only wanted to join in more.  In a way they were accepting us, via a test, to see if we were cool, and wanted to join their ranks.  Somewhere among the girlie calendars, grease and oil, and watching guys smoke under “NO SMOKING” signs we wanted to be part of it.  Dreaming of the day when we could join in, and our stories would be told.  When important issues of which gas to use so you didn’t foul spark plugs, which header gave better power, and dreams of next year’s models filled the conversations.  But it was the old stories, the tales told of how it used to be that lit a fire underneath us, that made us look ahead by looking back.  It was about the brotherhood, and even if you rode a different brand and we made fun of you, you were a part of the brotherhood.  The important thing was you rode, the common denominator was motorcycles, and our place of worship was the road.  With small stops in between to brag on things since you last rode or met.  No last names, each one had a nickname, some we never knew their real names, and we wondered if some ever left the shop.  But we were a family of sorts, and even though out in public we were misjudged, whenever we saw another rider we waved, and acknowledged each other.  And many still do today....
After 45 years of licensed street riding and 41 years a Christian, many times the subject of brotherhood has come up, among church types.  They don’t get how we can be so different yet so accepting of those who ride, even if not what we ride.  They miss out on the brotherhood, and I wish the church would get it.  For centuries Catholics and Protestants have butted heads, Jews not accepting Jesus as savior, and the denominations have only furthered the schisms within the church.  We forget that without Jesus Christ, we share no commonality, and he unites us, not divides us.  We talk of unity in the spirit much as liberals define free speech, “as long as you agree with me.”  Churches compete for members from other churches, and call it evangelism.  Saving saints from that other denomination.  We forget we are the church, and it is built on the rock of Jesus.  And without him there is no salvation, and no church-we are the church we are rebelling against!  If only we could get the brotherhood we share of bikers to permeate the church-what a difference.
Fr. Al was a good friend of mine, a Catholic priest who died a bishop, who when offered the position called me to pray for him.  He was always in trouble with the church, he loved Jesus first, and would serve communion to whoever came for it.  He didn’t care about what church, he loved you in Christ.  And so our conversations would be about Jesus, how the spirit was important and we stayed away from religious and denominational differences.  So when he asked me to pray, I knew it was from his heart, not his denomination.  And his answer taught me a lesson, he accepted the new position, not for the title, not for the prestige.  He wanted to get out on the road and to meet more Catholics, for in his words “there are a lot of Catholics who need Jesus.”  He got it, and he understood the biker brotherhood when he started accepting us at the chapel, and wanted us to be involved.  He wanted all who came by to see true brotherhood, and how Jesus welcomed all.  Rider or not.  Saved or not.  Catholic or not.  It was all about Jesus...as it should be.  Is your church, your conversations reflective of him?  Do you accept the different, or must they change to think like you before they are accepted?  If another church ran a contest for the perfect church, would yours be an entry?  Could it?  Yet we have the example of Jesus among the disciples, 12 men, all different, who were equal in Christ.  And who when in the spirit would change the world.  I think I need a ride...
Jesus is the answer for the world today, among him there’s no other, Jesus is the way.  Do you really believe that?  Or do you just sing the songs of the Andrae Crouch song?  Bikers still wave to each other, and even though BMW riders feel superior, we love them too.  The fact we ride is more important than what we ride.  Is Jesus more important than where you go to church?  To what denomination you follow?  Lutherans, Catholics, Jews, Baptists, and those in Calvary Chapels all need Jesus.  All.  Don’t miss the chance to share the gospel today based on man made barriers.  If only the church could get the brotherhood it desires and finds within the biker community, think how it could change the world.  At the next toy run, notice how we give freely and in great numbers, but at church they accept an offering.  We meet because we want to, not because it is an appointed time.  We accept you as you are...no need to cite examples of being different in a church service.  We need Jesus, and until we follow his spirit we will always be divided.  I think I need a ride....and a wave.  From a brother...who reads his Bible as much as a bike magazine and shows what it says.  Many are called, few are riders...a brotherhood the church needs.  If only it knew it...does your pastor know you as well as your parts man?  Hmmmmm.....
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com