bikes I've never ridden

The Bucket List a few years ago sent many off in the direction of making lists of things to do before they die.  Being a true rebel I never fell into the trap, but last night began to think of alternatives to the bucket.  And things I still want to do, but thought instead of things I haven’t done, boiling it down to bikes I have never ridden.  And in true touring bike form, instead of a bucket considered a “saddlebag list,” but I am not a bagger at heart.  So I narrowed it down to the way I have been touring for over 40 years, “the tank bag list.”  A list of bikes I have never ridden....see how yours compares.

I have never ridden a Triumph Hurricane X-75, the custom built by Craig Vetter.  I always thought this pre-custom custom looked cool, and I remember them sitting gathering dust on showroom floors, too expensive.  If only I had bought one then, I could sell it and have enough to buy one now.  A blend of old Triumph, new triple, and custom styling, you gotta love those 3 pipes!  But the closest I ever came was owning a 1998 Thunderbird Sport, again a triple, but with only two pipes.  Great bike, sounded cool, but needed 30 more horsepower, which Mickey provided when he put a Daytona engine in one.  That bike I rode...why didn’t Triumph ever build it, I would still want one now!  But for now, the Hurricane will have to wait.

A slight blip on the café racer radar occurred in the seventies, when sport models of existing bikes sprung up, low bars, louder exhaust, and rear sets.  Even Harley got in on it, with the 1977 XR-1000.  Based on the Sportster it never sold, although it was fast, handled pretty good, and looked great.  But with no chrome, it never had a chance...another one for the tank bag, how great a tank bag would look on it riding some roads I know, maybe my first Harley, are you listening Milwaukee, what is Buell’s number?  I still have an open invite to ride any bike at want at Biggs, how about that XR-1000 on display?  I still would like to ride a Guzzi, Ducati, or any Italian bike that I felt safe riding past the edge of town on.  But with Audi owning Ducati, Ducaudi, when I rode a Diavel, I fell in love with the power-now I just need a race track to use it on.  The new Guzzi looks cool, sounds cool too, but in my mind I see an old friend, and resident Guzzi nut, Capt. Hook on his.  Pass for now, but this three cylinder MV Augusta looks good...

I also have an open invite from the GM at the BMW store to ride the S1000-but probably won’t, the speed junkie in me would come out and I would have to sell 2 or 3 bikes to do it, so I stay away from the store, but someday when I am weak....I still have my New Mexico personalized plate, “MR R90S” wonder if that counts?  I met Michael the new owner and boss at Crocker, bringing back the fastest bike in the 30’s from LA, he even offered me seat time when the prototype is done, it needs miles and I was asked to ride it...I still have his card, I wonder if he’d remember me?  I like the new Indians, and hope they make it this time.  Almost bought one 10 years ago, a Scout for around town, but no test ride offered, now I know they did me a favor.  And with the new crop of bikes coming out of Japan this year, Yamaha 09, a new 750 Honda, it will be neat to see them make a comeback as they have been quiet for a while...a sleeping dog lying that is about to be awakened, should be fun.  Remember the first CB750, the first Z-1, and how you fell asleep dreaming of owning one,  knowing someday...and for the above bikes that someday never came.  But someday I will ride a Vincent, got close when my now deceased friend Barney Li bought the rights and was going to bring them back...with a Honda motor!  Some hybrids were designed to die at birth.  Norton is again trying to come back, Royal Enfield never left, another free ride offer, “Mike you would be surprised,”  I would be more surprised than you think!  Even Triumph is joining the ranks of Harley coming out with a Rocket 3 trike, made in Brazil, the only other manufacturer to offer one from the factory, and both are building bikes in India soon, Triumph a 250cc!  Remember when 250cc was big and 650cc out of reach?  It took real men to kick start a 74 inch Harley...another I would like to try if someone has old Pan or Knuckle they would trust me on for an afternoon.  But there will always be old ones I missed, new ones to desire, but give me any bike with a tank bag and a free weekend to ride and I’m happy.  Some new to come, some resurrected, back from the dead, and some dead and never knowing it.

Which leads me to a trick question, one I love to fool pastor’s with.  We all know of the death of Lazarus and how Jesus put off seeing him until after his death.  And his sisters got cheesed at Him, imagine getting mad at Jesus?  But then Jesus uttered the following words, “Lazarus come forth.”  And Lazarus did, a preview of the resurrection of Jesus and of we who believe.  But the question is, “who were the first three, if He told Lazarus come fourth?”  A cute play on words, but I have sent a few pastor’s into not thinking it was funny, mainly because they didn’t get it at first, but hoped their congregation would when they tell it.  But the truth is, we will all be resurrected like Lazarus, and like Jesus if we believe.  Which is why Jesus calls us many times, sometimes for years, sometimes to a deaf ear.  But He still calls, and is patient for you to come to salvation.  He has a tank bag list with your name on it, which included you before you were saved, and still does if you are still resisting.  Like many famous names of the past being resurrected, He still has the power they don’t to change your life, and give you hope.  An open invite like at the Harley and BMW stores to test their product, they know I am not a buyer, but want to brag on it.  Just like we brag on Jesus, and want you to just try Him, give Him a chance.  “Mike come forth,” He must have said hundreds of times.  For Lazarus it only took 4, if you believe my joke.  But how many will it take for you?  Accept Jesus today, you could be living instead of wondering. 

And don’t put off the chance to ride when asked.  Many have been converted after a test ride, don’t say like I did “but my garage is still full.”  Make room for another ride today, maybe the ride of your life.  Choose Jesus, kick the bucket, and its list, and start living.  Start a new list, call it a diary of all the places and things done with Jesus, and share it.  John the Baptist bore witness to Jesus and wrote all about Him, bringing blessings to many.  Not a bad habit to have.  Like the ad says, “stop dreaming, and start riding.”  So many bikes, so little time.  But only one Jesus.  What are you waiting for, a personal invitation?  Well, you are hereby invited....

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

 

if your car could talk, what would it tell us about you?

I have this philosophy, that over the years has proven to be reasonably accurate, within its self imposed bounds.  I believe you can tell much about a person by what they drive and how hey take care of it.  Having been a service advisor for many years, I have been behind the wheel of thousands of cars, and can prove my point if necessary.  And since this says much about your car, I wonder what your car would say about you given the chance?  I can see some of you shrinking back...I can hardly wait to the secrets they have to tell.  If they are secrets at all.

I had a boss once who never changed his oil, when the red light came on he added 5 quarts.  Tells me a lot about his personal life too, he was always trying to fix things, and somehow his engine went over 100,000 miles.  But would you want to take a vacation in it?  I am sure his car could comment on the excuses he heard for other failures in his life.  But maybe the whispering that went on behind his back said it for the car.  As every old time Harley rider knows, they are told in the owners manual to only use Harley Davidson oil, and once riding with another man, when his low oil light came on, drove many miles with it on looking for a Harley dealer, they weren’t at every freeway exit 40 years ago.  And somehow he didn’t blow up his engine despite passing many gas stations, parts stores, and a few Honda shops. And he told me it didn’t use oil, but some friends wouldn’t let him park in their driveways because it leaked so much.  Again somehow avoiding catastrophe rather than fixing or maintaining his ride.  If only his bike could talk...then again the loud exhaust kept him from hearing us laughing behind his back.  But back to cars...

I would have Mercedes Benz owners driving expensive cars come in with them filled with taco and hamburger wrappers.  Spilled Coke on the console, and smelling of too many bean burritos.  And then complain about our free car wash and how it didn’t detail the car enough.  It seemed the piggier they were, the more demanding they were of us, how many times we wanted to run them through the car wash.  And while parked next to the same car, clean and well maintained, it was hard to imagine both were once new, built with pride, and came off the same assembly line.  Somewhere one car had gotten mixed up with bad company, its new owner, and had suffered, and was still suffering, while the other was treated with respect, and cared for.  Imagine the conversations the two would have about their owners...

I had one particular Land Rover mom come in one day that the rear seat DVD players weren’t working.  She couldn’t hear her phone calls over the kids talking, how rude of them, and demanded it be fixed immediately.  “Simple,” I said, “hang up the phone and talk with them.” Which drew another visit from the service manager telling me how she thought I was rude, again I was glad I wasn’t her kids or her car.  Or her husband, can you imagine dinner talk that night, or any night?  And a hearty amen from the car.  I have also had those so anal retentive that they changed the oil every 1000 miles, and got mad at factory for not covering it, or even requiring it.  First no one made them buy the car, or made them change the oil so frequently-just not needed.  But yet they were the same ones who complained when the oil plug wore out from going to a quickie oil change place, they were mad at the dealer, and trusted their prize car to the equivalent of auto shop.  I can hear this car now, just like the kid who cannot eat sugar or told no all the time, “just let me be me!”  Like the other cars!  But instead driven to the brink of insanity by too much care.

Now finding that anal car to buy used is great, and once I bought a bike like that.  The guy even detailed the sprockets, and it was over serviced.  Good deal for me, and the bike looks and runs great even today.  Despite only recommended maintainence and regular cleaning.  And it purrs every time I ride it agreeing with its new owner.  But what about the guy who spends too much, not that he can’t afford it, but then puts on Korean tires?  Or uses car oil instead of motorcycle oil?  What if it’s a Harley and uses non-Harley oil?  What are these bikes trying tell their owners when they wear out because they didn’t get proper service?  Or cleaning?  And how about the poor tech having to work on a bike that is a mess because of abuse, and then told to fix it cheaply...until it breaks again, and it isn’t its fault?  The things a car or motorcycle can tell about its owner is amazing...and you might not want to know if you are like the above.  But yet if you listen, it is trying to tell you something, are you listening?  For all these things we see in your ride, tell us what your personal life is like, if your car is a mess, so is your life.  If too neat and anal, so is your life.  Too clean, maybe missing out on fun, or too dirty, too much fun.  If you were your car,would you drive in you?  Old Mercedes Benz owners were once proud to show the service book when selling their car, a history of how well it was taken care of.  Not so much anymore, as the relationship between car and driver has faded, don’t even ask if it is leased.  So ask yourself, if we saw your service records, what would they tell us?  Are you worth purchasing?  Is your whole life one of fixing things that broke rather than maintaining them so they didn’t?  How many times has your check engine light of life come on and you disregarded it?  Is it on now?  What is your car trying to tell you about your life?

I have a friend who asks his family regularly why they are saved.  Not to question their salvation, but to remember Jesus.  To maintain their walk and witness, and straighten up when going astray.  A good policy, better than an oil change.  Jesus tells us to work our our salvation daily, not that we lose it, or have to be forgiven again-once saved all sin is forgiven, past, present, and future.  But He advises us to stay in the Word, developing our minds and hearts to be like Him.  To spend time in prayer, and listening to Him, avoiding a costly mistake by obeying, rather than sacrificing later.  Just like missing a day of walking takes three days to recover, missing out on church can set you back weeks trying to catch up.  You only know what you missed after you miss it.  But it takes work, and some commitment to Christ to grow in Him.  And it not only makes life better, but how much better when it comes time to trade this old body for the new one. A quick wash and oil change before heaven may get you in, but the lack of service records will show how you really lived, or rode.  And strangely enough, we can all see what you can’t or won’t.  So try going by the owner’s manual, the Bible, and see how your life can improve, and also improve the lives of others.  Whether you can hear it or not, your car says much about you-are you listening?  You may be shocked to know who is. 

So don’t be surprised if I won’t lend you my rides.  Get your own, and just like your walk with Jesus, maintain it.  Treasure it, and be the example for others you can be in Him.  What about your life would make me want to be a Christian?  If only you knew what others say, if your car could talk, what would it say?  Better yet, what has it been telling you?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

Congratulations, you have been chosen to receive...

Everybody likes to think they are getting something for nothing.  And it seems I get deluged by “free” offers in the mail, now in the form of e-mails, from companies I have never heard of, and who claim I have subscribed to them.  The latest came with a picture of a Marriot Resort telling me congratulations, on a 3 day, 2 night getaway.  Sounds good, I sure could use that.  But on the other side in said from over 600 locations, including Marriott.  And then promised free air fare and even a $50 gift card if I call within 48 hours. What 48 it didn’t say...they upped the ante making me want it more, or so I let them think.  And so I called them, with my promo number in hand, and a girl answered the phone, in a very noisy room, speaking with a thick accent.  And wanted to know my income, which I refused to reveal, then told me I wasn’t eligible to listen to their sales talk on what I still don’t know.  Once again proving that there is no free lunch, or motel room, or getaway-forget the airfares!  But verifying the value of something for nothing, and being reminded that someone pays for everything.

There is a law of finances that you don’t hear talked about very often, maybe not a law, but an acute observation.  Simply put “At zero price, there is more demand than supply.”  And after changing channels with frequency to avoid Brown Thursday, Black Friday, Small Business Saturday, and Cyber Monday, I am sick of it, and even more sick of those who fall prey to the promises.  Two weeks ago I saw a man setting up a pop up in front of a Staples-two weeks before the sale, is this man nuts, or just stupid?  His time must be worth nothing to spend that much in away from his work and family to save $200 on an i-pad.  The legend of Steve Jobs lives on after his death.  But a few years ago I learned a lesson on these sale days, and now will pass it on.  First, remembering there is no free lunch, the bigger companies up prices slightly before the sale date, even a few cents a day makes a difference when discounted.  It’s like thinking you are getting deal on bike parts, 10% off, when getting ripped off more because they were marked up 20% over retail-such a deal.  And we all like to think we are getting the deal.  Now companies also will buy a special line of product, in my case a 42” TV, brand unpronouncable except in its own third world country, and sell it cheaper than say a SONY, which is usually higher priced giving the impression of greater savings.  But when shopping two weeks after Black Friday a few years ago, found this same TV for half of what it sold for on that day-it seems they bought too many, and if not on sale, no one wants to buy that brand, so I made out like a bandit.  I had been chosen to receive a better deal than the yucks camping outside.  Lesson learned, but also learning that low price may cause a demand, buying too many for the demand results in lower prices later.

In 1982 Yamaha told their dealers at the dealer conference that year that they would push Honda from the #1 sales spot.  Which was fine until Honda heard that, and dropped prices so low that Yamaha almost pulled out of the states.  But the next two years bargain priced Hondas, Yamahas, Suzukis, and Kawasakis were available, some for hundred less than when new, the only difference between them and the current year was color.  I bought a new 1983 Nighthawk for $500 less in 1984, just a different shade of blue.  And so did many of my friends, finding money talks, riders ride, and proving that when the price goes down, the demand goes up.  Whether in TV’s or bikes, summer or Black Friday, the deals are there if you wait.  Where are those deals today when I need them?

Final lesson to you Mr. Consumer, when I sold for Coca Cola, TG&Y was major chain in our area, competing with K-Mart and the new Walmart.  So for Christmas, to get more business, they ran 6 packs, remember them, for 99 cents each, even though they cost them $1.47 each.  To the naked eye they were losing a bundle, but when it was explained by Mr. Money, the store manager, that was his real name, it was simple math, and great marketing.  99 cent six packs of Coke sold, and no one could resist that deal.  I was the hero for this one, but he explained that his total dollars grew, so much that it was equivalent to discounting everything in the store 8%.  No one would storm the shelves for an 8% discount, but when Coke was so cheap, they thought everything else was, and it created a buying frenzy.  And yes the demand almost exceeded the supply, as no one had predicted the impact, and we routed trucks directly to the store from the cannery some 400 miles away.  So read the fine print, and no one is absolved from it.  We all want the best deal....but some are worth waiting for, and not in line two weeks before the store opens!

But sadly many Christians are taught that God loves them more-wrong, if He loved us more, why did He love us enough to save us while still sinners, and believe God is a Pandora’s Box of wealth, until you open it, but that they are exempt.  A lesson learned when first saved was about a young man who came to Jesus expecting things, as if salvation wasn’t enough.  He was told that God will give you whatever you ask for, and he wanted a Cadillac, even gave God the option list and color. And when it didn’t arrive, thought God to be a liar, and turned his back on Jesus.  And some would claim he had lost his salvation, but as Jesus told a similar crowd bragging on what they had done, He told them “I never knew you.”  Not you lost your salvation, but you never had it!  The tricks man and religion play, if only we went right to the source, Jesus.  Another time a Brother Randy Wright, a travelling evangelist came to town.  On opening night the place was half full, and after passing the buckets, covers his eyes, and tells the crowd God has told him to pass the buckets again, and each person was to take one bill out.  Then taught on God’s multiplying our finances.  And it worked, as some who had put in coins, drew out a dollar, some who had put in a dollar, pulled out a five, a ten, or a twenty-enough so the crowd went wild.  And when the word spread of the free money, the place was packed the next night, people dropping in 20’s and 50’s, expecting God to multiply it.  Except this night he didn’t talk to Brother Randy, and kept it all for himself.  And yes it was true, the multiplication that is, but just for himself.  So beware....you have been warned.

Simply put paying more does not guarantee getting more.  We are a case in point.  We gave Jesus our sin and He gave us life.  A good deal for us, and a seemingly bad one for Him.  But both of us got what we desired, a relationship with God.  But sadly only some of us take the deal, thinking it could never be as good as it sounds.  But it is, and even without the promise of heaven, makes for a better life.  Think of it as a free extended warranty.  And you have been chosen to receive this gift, all you have to do is ask Jesus into your heart.  No classes, no ceremonies, no clubs or dues-just ask Jesus into your heart wherever you are-home, church, jail, or while riding-the deal is that good!  And you will find that the zero cost to you will not outweigh His supply...So the real deal this holiday, or any day is still Jesus.  No lines-I like that, He speaks my language, much unlike the girl from another land on the other end of the phone, there is no small print, thankfully large print for my older eyes, and your name is recorded in heaven in the Book of Life.  And cannot be erased-either you are saved or you aren’t-no trial runs, once you are in you are in!  Let Walmart beat that one-and they claim to be the saving place!

Patience leads to salvation-it also leads to great deals.  Don’t delay, invest in Jesus today, and get all the benefits for free-included.  No salesman will call-those who go door to door with news papers aren’t of Christ, just ask them if Jesus is deity.  And watch them flee.  Jesus is still the best and the only deal to get to heaven.  And you have been chosen to receive that gift....no discount or club needed.  Somebody pays for everything, who paid for your salvation?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

 

the legend of the left foot

Last summer while many were out cruising, riding, or at the beach, another local landmark became history.  Taking liberty with the Joni Mitchell lyrics, “they paved paradise and put up a parking lot,” a local parking lot that had become a paradise for dozens learning to drive vanished.  Another Walmart is now where the huge parking lot behind the Fedco used to be, and with it, another teen memory of many is gone.  A place where generations of teens first got behind the wheel of a car, including my sons, is now another place to shop, for less.  It was a place where both my sons learned to drive a clutch, a big deal at one time, but today when over 95% of new cars are an automatic, it hardly seems worth noticing.  But like Christopher will tell you, last summer when they rented a BMW and toured Spain and France, it had a 5 speed, and he knew how to drive a stick, so as others rode along, he drove.  And he is perhaps of the last generation to learn to drive a stick, and soon the old Bill Cosby joke about drifting back into the bay will have no meaning, nor will driving a bug.  Four speeds, three on the tree, all old terms with no relevance now.  The automatic transmission has taken over as the preferred way to drive, now we just point and steer, while others watch and pray.  And to a man who used to drive semis in Colorado, where we had real mountains, a 13 speed Road Ranger was a natural as the Rocky Mountain spring water, but here drivers use an Allison automatic, because of the hills, I was told.  Like Dirty Harry said, “every man has got to know his limits.”  And today we are limited by 3-4-5-7, or an 8 speed automatic-still all a way to point and steer.  And maybe not a bad thing, if you ever got stuck in freeway traffic, you left leg would pay the price, cramping and teaching you to cuss the clutch, so maybe the automatic was a blessing.  And after many a sore leg from traffic jams on I-15, all our cars now have automatics, and have for years.  Reducing us all to right foot only drivers for the most part, although some still use the clutch foot to balance.  But the left leg has become a useless appendage in new cars, and some day when anthropologists look back, and note how adults 50 years ago had larger left legs, they will be puzzled as to why until they look to the car and the way its shifts.  The legend of the left leg and its demise will be another concession to convenience, telling us how far we haven’t really gone in progress.  And hopefully it will take generations until this left hand clutch phenomena takes place among bikers, remember when we all had arms like Popeye...”now we just point and lean...”they’ll tel us.  And wonder how we ever managed to drive or ride such ancient contraptions.  But for now it is all about clutchless shifting and the legend of the disappearing left leg.

Now if you have ever done a burn out, heel or towed your car in the mountains, or tried to start uphill with a clutch, you know it takes skill to do it, and now that skill is not needed any more.  On some cars a dead foot pedal has replaced the clutch pedal, a place to rest your foot, to keep it from feeling useless.  A pacifier for the foot, attached to the slowly atrophying leg, once useful but now deemed useless by the absence of the clutch.  A noteworthy event proving the second law of thermodynamics, that things are constantly in state of atrophy, we are not evolving but just the opposite, since the fall in the Garden, and it is a physical law, sorry Mr. or Ms. Evolutionist-even cars fall prey to laws!  And the Yuppie term “taking it to the next level” now has a new meaning, a term I am not fond of, and use here under duress.

Taking it to the next level for these faux personalities, to them means more for themselves-for money, bigger house, more income, and more about me.  But in real life, when many take it to the next level, the next level is one flight down.  To many their best years are behind them, explain that Ms. Evolutionist, and only makes room for the more more aggressive feeding on the lesser.  Survival of the fittest, but not the best.  And so when the other night a man asked for prayer, he wanted to go to the next level with God, I prayed with him, but warned him the closer we get to God, the tougher things will get.   Not all blue skies and green valleys.  The road gets rougher, but Jesus is tougher than any road, and will take you through it, and you will get closer to Him along the way.  Works for Old Testament people too, ask Zachariah, but in God’s way, not ours.  The people were given the job to rebuild their homes, but after a few days got tired, and quit.  So they went to God, asking if they could build His temple, going to the next level.  But He surprised them when He told them no, for if they can’t do a simple job, how do they expect to do a greater one?  And since God is a god of order, first things first.  And since it is His plan, not theirs, it is better to obey, for all things will work for their good.  So we find that the next level cannot be attained without competing the current one, and that the next elevator can go down as well as up.  And that someday they may become as useless as the left leg, no more clutch, left leg isn’t needed, and will atrophy and go away.  Not exactly the result planned, but received none the less.  And so we find a walk, or drive with God requires Him leading, and us following.  Foot on the clutch, ready to go when needed, all that power just a left foot away.  Or so how it used to be.

Today God may ask you to go to a level that you never have before.  You may need to drive a 5 speed, but only have auto experience.  Be glad we have Him to rest on, or your walk with Him may soon go the way of the left leg.  Replaced by something easier, but less threatening and less rewarding.  Going down the same road, but also missing out on many roads due to not allowing God to take you.  Pointing and steering is no way to go through life, let alone your driving experience.  Let God direct, you follow.  And if the road changes, follow Him, for great roads have curves and elevation changes, but not all up.  That next level you are looking for may be below you, and you may have to drive a stick...taking you places other can go, but can’t drive, they will only be along for the ride.  And some will still drift into the bay, like Cosby’s example, not even knowing it.  But you will, for you will have chosen the way of Jesus  of all others.  And you will have  strong left leg to prove it, for it takes all of you to follow.  Arms, legs, hands, and feet.  Joni also sang in the same song, “help me I think I’m falling...” in love with Christ I hope.  For the rest of you, I hope you aren’t stuck in raffic long, wears out the leg.  Sorry, I just remembered you can’t drive a clutch, you pulled over long ago.  Get back into the race and follow Christ.  Whether 3 on the tree or four on the floor, it beats missing out on the ride of your life.  The atrophying in your left leg may only be a symptom of the heart, taking it to the next level, and not the one you expect.  Decreasing radiuses are for curves, not legs.  Another landmark in the history of man, taking you to the next level.  Zach found out the hard way.  Don’t you.  What does your left foot do while driving?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

over the river and thru the woods...

“over the river and thru the woods, to Grandmother’s house we go...” how many times we sang that song as elementary school kids, but to me it was always special, as Grandma’s house was special, and it was over the river, the Delaware crossing into Pennsylvania, and through the woods, the wonderful farm fields and woods that defined the foothills to the Poconos.  And singing it as Thanksgiving kicked off the holiday season, it was many a Thanksgiving spent at Grandma’s that were always special.  We would always leave that Wednesday after school, for the hour long drive, arriving just as Grandpa got home, and dinner was ready.  But already the house was ablaze with smells and sights of the next day.  The dining room table would be covered with pies just baked, and they would have to wait until tomorrow. And after the evening playing with the trains in the basement, our 4 day vacation celebration had begun.

Waking up at Grandma’s always meant Kermie’s sausage, starting a t 5 am.  The best sausage, in a big ring, and served up with eggs, potatoes, and homemade strawberry jam...what a way to start the day with fresh squeezed OJ too.  Eating as if there was no dinner to follow.  And as the cooking had already begun, Grandma was kept busy all day, except listening to the Bangor-Pen Argyl football game on the radio.  Football was so big in this area, that the town of 2500 filled the seats for 5000 each game-and this was the Super Bowl of the Slate Belt, for bragging rights for the next year.  Whoever won this long time rivalry would reign supreme, even if they had lost every other game, winning this insured a great season.  And as we listened, the stories would be retold of how the quarterback for Bangor was kidnapped one year, insuring a Pen Argyl win.  And the time some crooks went through downtown Pen Argyl cleaning out the stores while the whole city was at the game.  And how my mother had been the head cheerleader there.  My mother the cheerleader!  And when the game ended, and Bangor would win, they drove down the hill from the stadium past their house, horns honking, banners waving, and fans yelling in victory-my Grandma standing on the porch applauding-so many of her ex-students yelling “Hi Mrs. Mohn, we won!”  As if they had been on the field of victory themselves, with her.  For the rest of us, it only meant minutes to dinner-and turkey!

We called her Auntie Bray, her name was Lillian Bray and a neighbor and good friend to Grandma, and I always sat next to her on Thanksgiving.  She was old, I thought of her as one of the pilgrims, and wondered why she always ate with us instead of her family, later in life I would come to know myself why she made the wiser choice of company.  And then we would all take our places at the table, and my Dad would say grace, and the eating began.  The biggest turkey I can ever remember, sometimes a duck too, yams, mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, stuffing, and my Dad’s favorite oyster stuffing, only made for him on Thanksgiving by Grandma.  That special ingredient of love no one else could duplicate.  And the eating took awhile, and then dessert.  Apple pie, pumpkin pie, and shoo fly pie, so sweet it made your teeth hurt, no ice cream for these thoroughbreds-that was for later.....and then we all sat back and rested.  And then made trays, using TV dinner trays, nothing got thrown away here, and we each made our own for taking home, to be eaten again.  Each writing our name on the foil so we wouldn’t get confused, as if anyone could by my attempts at wrapping.  And then a sandwich before bed, sleeping sound, a great day had been enjoyed.  Bangor had won and all was right with the world...and soon I would be smelling Kermie’s sausage again, and the fresh OJ of Grandpa.  A special time that tomorrow being Thanksgiving makes me remember.  Over the river, and through the woods, more than words to a song.

As Americans we observe the last Thursday in November each year to be thankful.  We are thankful to God, who has again blessed us with another year on earth.  Not an easy year, but one in which He is always there for us, and continues to provide.  A year in which no more open heart surgery, and I am recovering well.  Christopher is touring worldwide with his music, living his dream.  Andrew is in love with Michelle, and we cannot wait until she is part of our family with Hidson her 3 year oldwe will be Grandparents at last-next year we shall all be together for Thanksgiving I hope.  And Theresa, my biggest blessing, who still manages to raise her three boys, through it all.  But we are able to see Jesus in all we do, and the blessings and thanksgiving are not only for one day in our family.  We are thankful for our extended family, John Dooley, Theresa and Kelly, who we hope will be safe and home from Afghanistan soon,and our “grandkids” Landon and Riley, our friends at Dustin Arms, and those who we get to share the love of Christ with.  And as the years go by, many more good memories will be added, but for now we like to look back and remember.  Over the river we go, crossing over like the Jews did into the promised land, and through the woods, the wilderness, being led by a loving God.  Who we have tested ourselves this year with our needs that would not have been provided for unless He intervened, for without Him we have nothing.  The joy we will one day experience when we cross that mighty river into heaven...but for now, a word of thanks to and for all who you hold dear and love.  May this day be filled with joy, peace, friendship, and lots of love...and turkey too.  But keep Jesus first, and give thanks as He adds everything else to us...He is all we need.  And “the horse knows the way ...”  So does this biker.

Happy Thanksgiving!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com 

if loud pipes save lives, why aren't all bikers saved?

If you have ever ridden in the rain while touring, you know how special it is waking up to the sun and warmth of it after riding all day and then falling asleep to the rain on the roof.  To look out and see the mist as the water evaporates from the roadway, and how clean and fresh the air is.  You just know that today is going to be special...but that was going to be my dream for tomorrow, as I was waking up in Fargo to a horrendous downpour.  And the weather channel predicted rain for the next few days with high winds, but only 310 miles away laid sunshine.  Not wishing to spend another week, I mean night there, I put on all my rain stuff, and headed west.  Destination Billings for the night, but would end up riding most of the day in the dark and high wind with rain.  Now I like to think of the plains and prairies as one big valley between the Rockies and Appalachians, and today this valley was gong to be stormy.  How stormy you ask?  Well, if you have ever ridden in high winds, leaning to stay straight, you know how the tires wear funny, mine did to the point of scuffing like a tire after track day, now that’s wind.  And for 310 miles across the valley I battled semis at 80+ miles per hour, and other locals who were not impressed by the weather, just another day to them, to me it was survival.  But somewhere over the non-existent rainbow had to be sunshine, just north of the rain I kept telling myself.  And when I got a sun break in Dickinson, the temp had dropped to 39 degrees.  Cold is one thing, wet another, but the combo on a motorcycle is just plain misery.  How bad could Fargo have been for another 3 weeks?

Waking up the next morning in Billings, it was only cold, so I decided to get more miles behind me, and two hours later found myself indulging in massive amounts of hot chocolate in Bozeman, a quick two hour ride.  It seems 39 is the magic temp this time of year, as the thermometer was stuck there, in the sun.  I was still cold, and about to get colder when a couple rode up on an Ultra Glide.  I watched, no I stared as they walked in-she in a wind breaker and he in a T-shirt.  Just another day for them, I tried to hide behind the cups of hot chocolate sot hey wouldn’t see me, but they did, wishing me good morning, and exclaiming what a beautiful day to ride.  And I nodded, being nice, as compared to yesterday, and add another 40 degrees and I would have to agree.  But at least it wasn’t raining, and the wind had quit, I was through the valley, about to pass the mountains, and an easy 1400 mile two day ride home.  Home on the range may be a great old song, but I had had enough rain and cold to make me utter some discouraging words, only hoping that the skies wouldn’t be sunny all day.  Through the valley of the shadow of death  had ridden....

Now the saying says “loud pipes save lives.”  They sure do get your attention.  But if loud pipes do save lives, why aren’t more bikers saved?  Maybe religion and bikers don’t mix, but I have both, and find they do.  When in the spirit after my open heart surgery, I woke up telling Theresa that I had seen the gates of hell, but wasn’t sure what it meant.  I had other things on my mind, like learning to swallow, to walk, and breathe on my own, so I concentrated on them, but later asked God what He had meant.  And He explained simply, the gates of hell shall not prevail, as He was building His church, using His son Jesus, to build it on.  I knew the verse, or thought I had, but then He added, the gates don’t keep you out of hell, only Jesus does.  Wow-the gospel in all its simplicity, in one line.  Jesus is the way, even in the valley of the shadow of death, or from Bismarck to Bozeman.  He is there in the highs and the lows, sometimes dragging me kicking and screaming, or sometimes just holding my throttle hand steady against the wind.  Taking me through the storm, not around it.  And like a friend told me after hearing of my surgery, “wow you walked through the valley of the shadow of death.”  “No I didn’t,” I answered, “I had to be carried.”  And He will carry you through whatever the day throws at you.  Wind and rain-He can calm them.  Even if the valley is so large it is called the mid-west.  He is there.

And so loud pipes may save lives, but Jesus and only Jesus saves souls.  He is the only escape from hell, the gate to keep hell in, and you out.  And He goes on to say that you have the power here on earth to bind and loose things in His name.  His will be done.  And there are storms ahead, on the horizon that you will have to go through, and you will need the helmet of salvation.  So when someone argues that loud pipes save l lives, I smile.  But I still wear a helmet, my choice, just like Jesus is my choice.  He is the helmet of salvation I wear daily, not leaving home without it, and even looking stylish around the house with it on.  I don’t ride unprotected, I don’t want to live unprotected.  for Bismarck is not the only place where storms occur.  And there are smaller valleys to cross other than the mid-west. 

So if loud pipes save lives, why aren’t all bikers saved?  They still need Jesus.  You see not all ride, not all live in Fargo, and not all are in the valley-yet.  We don’t know the day of our death, so we need Jesus when it occurs.  And I have found Him  great to have around even on nice days, reminding me how even without the promise of heaven He is worth serving.  Heaven is just the bonus.  And after a few days crossing the valley of the mid-west, I was ready to be in the mountains-again like Jesus did.  Which makes the ride all that much better.

Only Jesus saves, but just like loud pipes the gospel annoys people.  But they need to hear it, even over the noise of loud pipes.  And those gates-I am glad to spend today, and every day riding on this side of them, and then into eternity, never crossing over.  You see you get to make the choice, and if you deny Jesus here, you get hell there-no turning back.   A one way gate in-again only Jesus keeps you out.  That bright sunny day of warmth after the storm.  The sunshine on the other side of the clouds.  Jesus Christ-it’s hell without Him.  Only He saves.  And the gates of hell shall not prevail.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com