I had just returned a then new Street Triple to the Press Fleet at
Triumph. The bikes would record your top speed for bragging rights later, I
felt pretty good hitting 131 until I had to slow down. I felt pretty fast until
I checked its sister bike that had just been returned showing 148, suddenly I
felt slow. I would later hit 140, but that 148 would always haunt my ego.
Kenny and I were returning the first two Daytona R’s, and comparing their
performance. He bragged how he had hit 116 in third, no small feat for a 675cc
motor, I had hit 118. But when Mickey showed how he had hit 126 in third, just
by some fine tuning, we both felt slow. Until I was asked by George to test
ride a Kawasaki ZX 14 Concours he was going to buy. It only hit 120 in third, I
felt cheated, the Ninja version would do 102 in first, and 132 in second. Oh
well....
Brett and I were out riding one afternoon when suddenly our speeds kept
rising, and soon I saw 170 on the speedo of my FJ1100, drafting his new 900
Ninja. And the motor quit, the restarted, then quit again. After the third
sequence, I remembered it was hitting the rev limiter, but no way would I be
doing 170, not on any wildly optimistic Japanese speedometer. Later a Yamaha
representative confirmed I had been doing 155, which the bike was speed limited
too. The fastest I would ever go on two or four wheels.
I can also remember the first time I went 120, in Lucio’s new 1972 Trans
Am. We cut school that day and rode to the shore on the Garden State Parkway,
defying all logic and State Police. And thinking how cool it was while being
scared to death floating over the subtle rises in the road not noticeable at
legal speeds. When I think of all the triple digit speeds I have ridden,
clocked at 136 in a 55 zone in Gallup, New Mexico on my R100S, please don’t tell
me they won’t go that fast, I spent the night in jail. Or the weekend ride to
Dayton to visit and breakup with a girl friend, being stopped at over 100 three
times in Ohio, the worst place to get caught speeding, on my R90S, with no
tickets issued to me. The two Sportster riders got them I was racing, so did
the Porsche I didn’t know I was racing. Don’t tell my son’s mother about the
time we rode 100 miles in one hour, not per hour. Factor in the 100 I can hit
in Theresa’s Mustang on the entrance ramp to I-15 here, the 120 my Tiger 1050
will do on the same ramp, and all I can say is “gentlemen, that is speed.”
And I am not a fast guy, but can get a lot out of my rides. I don’t like
to race, the last time I was challenged, I agreed, but let me pick the course.
When I chose “here to Phoenix,” I won by default. It seems I win a lot more of
my decisions lately, some by default because I choose my fights better. I have
learned when to hold them, when to fold them, and when to walk away. It takes
two to make a race, just like it takes two to argue, so I try not to. No one
wins an argument, once you have engaged in one, you lose. And if you think I am
wrong, no argument here, see I won! But another fact of arguing is, they will
change you long before you change them. Not sure how that works, but it does,
another good reason to avoid arguments. Just like Jesus told us too. Don’t we
have enough problems with the world and all the evils in it, do we need to fight
among ourselves too? What message is that sending to the lost about
Christians? We tell them we are different, then act just like them. So I try
this approach, and try to react as Paul did, becoming all things to all men.
Not giving up my morals, or my ideals, or denying Christ, and falling into sin,
I listen better. But still have a lot of room for improvement. My reactions
telling more about the Jesus in me than the ego that may be bruised. I stay
away from doctrinal issues, question church and religious programs that aren’t
scriptural, and listen to the spirit, proving it in the word. His word, his
words, not mine. When Jesus said “he who has an ear let him hear,” I find it is
a good thing to do before I answer. A solid dose of thinking helps too. But I
also have been rescued and amazed many times when the words from my mouth don’t
reflect my thoughts, but come from the spirit, who gives us wisdom and the words
when we need them. Yet some trip over quoting scripture out of context to
substantiate their sin, or to win an argument. Jesus never argued, and when we
speak with his authority, based on his love, we are changed and so are those we
converse with. Gentlemen, that is love, that is the evidence of the holy
spirit.
But remember Jesus exercised meekness, power under control. Just like we
need to do when riding. All that power in the wrong circumstance can be
disastrous, it is power under control, our self control, manifest by our
decisions that is a fruit of the spirit. I chose to ride fast, I choose to be
saved. It was my choice. No one is ever argued into heaven, only by the holy
spirit do we know we need a savior, and who Jesus really is. And unlike the
recorded speeds on the bikes I ride, they can be reset, the love of our Lord
cannot. We fail, he shows mercy. We repent, we are forgiven, and back riding
again. And you wonder why we call grace amazing?
The New Testament tells us that it isn’t our performance but that of Jesus,
we are no longer under law, but grace. He has all the bragging rights to us.
It is what he did, not what we do. So don’t argue, stay in touch with Jesus via
his spirit, and know when to walk away. To back out of the throttle, meekness,
that power under control. I want all the performance I can get from my rides,
and my God. All new bikes have rev limiters, only Jesus has no limits. His
power is under control, “not by might, not by power, but by my spirit,” says the
Lord. See, bet you didn’t think riding was a spiritual event? Gentlemen, that
is love...with no animals injured during the rides.
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com