hey good lookin', are you lookin' good?

As any biker knows, where your eyes go, your ride will follow.  I know of men who have ended up in ditches off the highway, just because they looked over their shoulder thinking they saw something.  On my one and only trip riding without a helmet, I was in Ontario, when I thought I saw someone I recognized, foolish thought as I lived in Albuquerque, and my glasses blew off.  My prescription glasses, and I could see OK, but not like when I wore them.  So quickly panicking, I needed eye protection now, I could still see to navigate, I went into a Sears store, to buy sunglasses.  Failing to notice how my hair was sticking up from the wind, remember this was the perfect hair days of the disco era, not like today where no one would notice, and I got some weird looks.  At least I think it was my hair.  But in my case, my eyes had truly followed where I was looking, fortunately it was only my glasses, and I had another pair at home, only 800 miles away.  Lesson learned, not only about glasses, but about riding long distances without a helmet.  I couldn’t hear for days, which was probably looing back funny when I went to buy the glasses.  She had to shout so I could hear, drawing even more attention to us...boy was she embarrassed!

Talk to anyone who rides, and you will find that riding a motorcycle has made them a better car driver.  We constantly are scanning, looking ahead, and in our mirrors, planning escape routes.  We see things because we are looking, and unlike those who aren’t, avoid accidents.  The blue haired old lady in the Buick who looks right at you, then pulls out anyway into your path the exception.  But there again proving where her eyes looked, she went.  She just didn’t see.  But yet we set our sights on things on high, and follow the horizon to see what’s ahead, without ever considering what lies behind or may be gaining on us.  Few know how to or even use their mirrors, and I once was told by a Harley rider, helmetless, that mirrors were for hanging helmets on, which made me think, “how would he know?”  And one look at him, assured me he needed to spend more time in front of the mirror, and that helmet laws also protect those of us who have to look at guys like him.  But using mirrors to guide can help, as you never know who may be gaining on you, and mirrors are the number one place that flashing lights from police cars come from.  So are you more concerned about lookin’ good, or in lookin’ good?  Maybe that old quote about the lead dog is true, the view never changes for those who follow.  But to the leader, I just hope he is lookin’, good.

“Keep your eye on the ball,” all golfers have heard too many times.  And how many air swings have we all committed looking up to see where the ball was going before we even hit it?  It seems we are more concerned about where we hope it goes, as opposed to making it go.  Via contact.  So in a different light we see riding as different from golfing-one boring and looking ahead to what we have missed, the other exciting, and looking ahead to the next curve.  We enjoy the ride, looking ahead, unless you look back and lose your glasses...And no I don’t play golf, it has been decades.  Made me a better rider, ducking golf balls when riding by a range, a driving range!  I rather go for a ride than be taken for one.

So why do we look to the finite when we are looking for an infinite God?  Just doesn’t make any sense to me.  Think about it, men who seek the God of the universe through science, who rather experiment than find.  Who postulate rather than experience the living God.  Great and not so great musicians who try to find God in their music, ending up in search of the lost chord.  Novelists hoping for the right words to describe God to others, and fall short.  How do you describe an infinite God in finite terms?  Like or as, He isn’t.  We are.  Like sheep who have all gone astray.  God doesn’t stray, we have, God wasn’t looking for us, we are looking for Him-He isn’t lost, we are.  And so we inevitably fall short, looking for what we hope to see in finite terms, when we should be seeking God in spiritual terms.  On His level.

But fortunately He sent Jesus to lead us to Him.  To bridge the gap of finite and infinite.  He became a mortal to bring us immortality.  He became a man, because we could never be a god.  There already was and is one.  So what are you looking for from God?  Wealth, power, riches?  Or are you looking for the things of God, love, joy, and peace?  Is God a genie in your lamp, who you ask for wishes, and when He doesn’t perform as you demand, do you get another lamp?  Where do you turn in times of trouble?  Your bike, car, bank account, your i-pod, or a rich relative?  Again where your eyes go, you will follow.  And the path may not be one you wish to go down.  And one you don’t have to.

Maybe the answer is in drugs, finding God why in an enlightened state of decay?  Are you looking for the high, and when you find it, what happens when you come down?  What do you look for then?  Maybe that something is really a someone, His name is Jesus.  And He is available now to all who seek Him.  He comes down to our level, and brings us up to His, not bringing Him down to ours.  For what customer tells the cook how to cook, or what rider tells the mechanic how to fix his ride?  Yet we have no problem telling God, our creator how to do things for us.  And heaven help Him when He doesn’t, thankfully heaven helps us. 

Now creature comforts, motorcycles, good food, and nice things are OK in their right.  But only Jesus saves, as promised.  Technology will not get you to heaven.  Nor will 150 hp at the rear wheel.  Music may brighten the mood, but what happens when the song ends?  The road ahead may seem clear, but what happens when something else catches your attention, and you lose your sight or your glasses by looking back?  What happens when you aim at the Bots dots in the road, you don’t miss them, you hit them.  So set your sights on things on high, just like the Bible says.  Look to God, not His creations.  Seek and find, you will not be disappointed.  But keep in mind, where you are looking will be where you go.  You may be good lookin’, but are you lookin’ good?

Make peace with your maker today, no one has ever fought God and won.  Don’t argue with Him, His terms are not negotiable.  They are infinitely finite.  And seek a Moses experience, where you get so close to God that there are no words to describe Him.  How you describe an infinite God tells us how you picture Him.  I see an empty cross, and His scarred hands.  I see my savior, Jesus.  I cannot think of a better argument for eternal life.  He won, the cross is empty.  So is the tomb.  Where your eyes go, you will follow.  Keep your eyes on Jesus.  Lookin’ good never looked so good.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

33 will set you free

Having a son living in LA gives me a place to satay, and a head start on riding north and into the mountains above LA.  For only a brief hour out of the city, it changes for the good, and for those of us who ride, that is a good thing.  Starting out of Moorpark, take the seldom used back roads into Santa Paula, warming up on the gentle curves.  Then one of my favorites, SR 150 to Ojai, 15 miles of curves that will make you want for more, but even there civilization is creeping in, and it can be crowded on weekends.  Then at Ojai, you have  decision to make, either riding up past Casitas Lake, or SR 33, over the mountain.  Today’s ride was to be the latter, and with great weather, there were so many bikes out we dominated the road.  Almost like the cars all stayed home where they belonged.  Riding the Tiger 955 with Theresa packing double, we were ready, and as we passed dozens of bikes parked at the local hangouts, we kept on, hoping for more open road ahead.  Now I had settled into the Zone, almost like riding on auto pilot, and was using all the Michelin the bike had to offer, when I heard something coming up on me-an Aprilia, laid over and flying by on my left, fuel tuck, and leaning farther than me.  Which only made me go faster, but also got me in the habit of looking in the mirror, as Ducatis, Buells, Triumphs, and NInjas, CBR’s, and FZR’s kept blowing by-and I am not riding slow.  But the farther we rode, the total absence of cars was evident, and I thought I was doing pretty good, until 3 BMW’s blew by, leading was a new GS1200, followed by a K1600GT, with bags, and then another older GS.  These guys were cooking, and a new respect for German bikes and their riders overcame me.  And as my riding skills became more challenged, I fell back on the fact that I was probably the only one riding with a plastic aorta, and my mind was completely emptied of all stress, despite the aggressive riding,  33 had set me free, and I was loving it!

And as I rode, I noticed groups of riders, marking their spot for a ride back down the mountain.  Talking on the side of the road, conversations I had been part of many times before, talking of the road, and lunch when we get back.  But today was all about the road.  A ride many had taken before, which may explain so many high performance bikes I see with worn tires and low miles.  Some were racing up and back a 20 mile stretch, some stretching it to 30, or 40, then back.  Serious rides for serious riders, on a road that twists, turns, and gains elevation to over 5000 feet.  Maybe one of the best days ever riding in over 40 years!  But since we were out for a ride, and we ride loops, never coming back the same way we came, we took a right on Lockwood Valley Road.  In the past I have gone down the hill, an over 20 mile straightaway that once was rumored to be where Honda tested their bikes for top speed, myself once passing a CHP car parked on the side of the road at over 130 mph.  He never looked up, maybe 130 never gets his attention there any more, but we never slowed either, and he never gave chase.  Where are cops like that when you need them?  So after riding for over 45 minutes of mostly car free roads, with no cops present, we turned to the east and aimed for I-5 and civilization, a great continuing road, and passed only 4 cars in the first 16 miles, then a group of Harley riders, riding more aggressively than most I have seen, these roads just bring the speed out in you.  Great examples of why God made motorcycles, and why maybe on the 8th day He made roads.  He knew we would ride someday, and until that time, we needed to get around anyway, so He blessed us with roads like this.  Kept cars from them, and invented smooth pavement, banked corners, and views of the roads from above like those seen only in the Alps.  All within a 90 minute ride of Los Angeles.  Just far enough to keep the trendy from invading, who wouldn’t get it anyway.

So off Lockwood Valley Road, into Frazier Park, across the 5 to Pine Valley Road, then Elizabeth Lake Road, to Bouquet Canyon Road, then finally the San Fernando Valley.  All in an afternoon away from people who don’t ride.  A day to be remembered when bench racing for years to come.  And being blessed knowing there are others out there that ride faster, better, and can use all the motorcycle that they can.  It made me feel proud to be a part of them, and I can’t wait for a Street Triple so I can return and ride faster.  33 will set you free, but speed and riding will become an addiction.  With only one cure....and I had found the cure.  On a road described as “not for the faint of heart.”  A road for the experienced only.  If only they knew...

• I agree with the review, I would like to add some cautions. This road is prone to contamination from rock slides and dirt/sand. There are a few corners that are not marked or read well, and are on crowns and/or are increasing radius turns. Not for the faint of heart, otherwise this road is indeed one of the best in Central. - Michael Jordan (4/13/09)
• First off I would like to say that this road has extremely fast sweepers and slow twisties. The whole road is a scenic view with a couple of fire stations along the way. If you are coming from the Ojai side, you will pass the (Deer Lodge) restaurant on your left just as you are leaving town. They have great food and always a lot of bikes to check out. A few more miles out of town you will run into a series of tunnels, the first one sometimes has water flowing across the road. Once you are past all of that, you will come upon a little store on the right that has a (opening soon) sign with some shade and a couple of picnic tables to rest on. A few miles down the road is a fire station that has a water fountain for drinking if you are parched. Great road for an all day ride! Happy Trails. - Derrick Avery (12/1/08)

Now roads are nothing new to God.  When He and Adam walked through the Garden of Eden, it was probably on paths, the first form of roads.  And when the population grew, He added roads so they could get form one place to another.  We even find Jesus entering into Jerusalem on a road, and the good Samaritan aids the beaten traveler on a road.  Roads are mentioned 85 times in the Bible, turns over 40, so God is familiar with roads, and He knows the one you are on.  He talks about straight and narrow, too far left you go into oncoming traffic, too far right you are off the road.  God loves to  ride!  But he also speaks of a special road, one just for us..

A highway shall be there, and a road, And it shall be called the Highway of Holiness.The unclean shall not pass over it,But it shall be for others.Whoever walks the road, although a fool,Shall not go astray.  Isaiah 35:8.

So we are all on some road somewhere.  And along the way we will meet people, and go astray.  It will take Jesus to get us back on the road we need to be on.  But will you recognize the signs, or will you continue on, until the road ends, abruptly?  There is still time to turn to Jesus today.  He rides, and He is the best road you will ever ride.  He created the mountains, the valleys, and the views of and from them.  He is power when needed, and a place to rest and take in the sights.  And when walking His road, or riding it, you will not go astray.  It even has a name, the Holy Road. His promise.  Your choice, just how good a rider are you?

That perfect ride you are looking for is found only in Jesus.  33 may set you free, only He will set you free indeed.  A walk unlike a road that is not for the faint of heart, He welcomes all, and when your heart is weak, will guide you.  I know, my heart was weak, beyond repair, and He saved me-twice.  I now carry the scar...

Enough said, let’s go riding.  Remember whatever road you are on, Jesus is there with you.  And will guide you back when you stray, and urge you one when needed.  He knows what lies beyond the next curve...all His corners are marked well.  Straight and narrow in the curves, only possible with a loving God.  Who are you riding with will tell more about your ride than any bench racing session.  Get all you can from life, on or off the road in Jesus.  And leave the cages at home, where they belong.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

 

a week spent in Riverside one night

Mention Riverside, and to many visions of the 60 and the 215 are embedded in their memory vaults.  Add the 91, and you wonder why would anyone want to go to Riverside?  But get off the freeways, and Riverside has the Mission Inn, simple Simon’s for lunch, Fairmount Park, and a neat old Old Town, with great neighborhoods and houses.  All things you must get off the highway to see, and will change your attitude about Riverside.  But a few years back, when I spent a week in Riverside one night, my opinion was to be jaundiced for years.

The week had started out planning to go to a Seasons of Refreshing for CMA, and we were looking forward to it.  And it was to be some firsts for Theresa, as he would ride her own bike for the first time in the dark, and do her first lane splitting.  She would ride with Dick, and I would join her at the Friday night events leaving San Diego after work.  Good plan, and she and Dick upheld their end of it.  But my ride was to be more interesting, as 40 miles out I got a flat on my Bonneville.  Calling Andrew, he and his girlfriend loaded my Sprint RS in the truck, and brought it up, and I did a bike swap.  You see, there really is a good reason to own multiple bikes!  And I was off, missing dinner, Theresa, and the first night events.  Thanks to Linda, a local, for getting Theresa to our room, where I caught up with her much later.   What a start, and the week was only beginning...

Earlier in the week, I had been called and then called to a motorcycle ministry based in San Berdoo, who had just lost a member.  Joker died, and his funeral was to be that Saturday, the same Saturday as Seasons, and I was going to attend.  Missing again another session.  But being called to minister, as opposed to being called to sit in auditoriums on nice days, I went, and hooked up with Peter, editor of Wheels of Grace magazine.  After the service in Highland, we were eating and visiting, when news came in that another member had just gone down, hit on his trike at an intersection.  As two of his club members took off, Peter and I followed, or really chased.  Learning that adrenalin is no match for horsepower in some situations of the heart.  And chasing them down back streets in San Berdoo, I managed to keep the in sight, with Peter giving case.  This trip of former escape routes finally led us to a hospital where they might be, but gaining entrance was difficult to this war zone hospital.  Finally getting in, and being forced to leave, we found them not there.  No report of any biker down.  And when we mentioned his passenger was his 14 year old grand daughter, they recommended Children’s Hospital in Loma Linda, who has a great trauma center.  Stopping to pray-almost forcing these two club members, we went to Loma Linda, and in the back door, through ER.  No mention of them, are you family?  So not giving in, I went around the front, and into the waiting room, where many friends and family were gathered-just not theirs.  But two women recognized Christian biker colors, and greeted me.  Alone by now, the others had gone off in search, I was able to spend time with them, pray and minister.  They knew who I was, as news of visiting Joker’s widow and family had reached them, surprised that another ministry would reach out to them.  I hope they were learning this while I was out on the streets.  And I was to meet them again the next week when visiting with Dick.  Another story in itself.  But back to Seasons...

Where I arrived just in time to hear the last 20 minutes.  My adrenalin still racing, I heard nothing, but afterwards we were invited to eat with the CMA Nationals, who wanted to hear of my day.  But first I must digress, to that morning.  In the Courtyard by Marriott. Where Theresa and I had spent the night.  We had missed each other, and as she told of trying to keep up with Dick in traffic, her first lane splitting, we laughed about my trials, and what else could happen.  So after a good night’s sleep, we awoke to no shower-broken.  Calling the front desk, they graciously gave us another room, to shower in.  It seems they knew they had a problem, just not sure what room.  And after careful arbitration, just before it became heated, they gave us the night for free.  As they should have, and it was off to Seasons.  And for me the funeral.  And all seemed right with the world after a hot shower, a flat tire, and missing Friday night.  Of course that afternoon still loomed ahead, what else could happen?  Was it really just an evening, or a few days as it really seemed?

Dinner was to be at BJ’s Brewhouse, sans the brew.  And a steak was in order, I was hungry, tired, wired, and wanting to visit.  Next to me, there were 7 at the table, was a man who introduced himself s Merle, from Mississippi.  He had ridden out with Kerry from Arkansas, and they were enjoying the warm spring weather, it was cold back home.  Now Merle, as he called himself was funny, and a joker.  We made Arkansas jokes, Lakeside jokes, and Ramona jokes.  But after a half hour, they wore thin, I was starved, and waiting to eat.  And then it came, a great big steak, covered by CMA, and as I prayed I was truly thankful.  And then Merle ended up in my lap.  Funny at first, the next few times were annoying, and finally I had had enough, and pushed him away hard, which caused him to fall forward into his mashed potatoes.  He wasn’t joking, he was passed out!  But woke up, and was OK, but when told of how he had been doing this for a week while riding, they took him to an ER, and he was in the hospital for a week, and forbidden to ride.  He was narcoleptic, and could fall asleep any time, any where, just not knowing if or when or where.  No more riding, he was sick.  And suddenly the whole weekend wasn’t so funny.  Flat tires, accidents, no showers, and now this.  Maybe I had spent a night I Riverside but didn’t know it?

Maybe you are having a Riverside experience right now, or have in the past.  You will.  Be assured, God is with you.  Jesus doesn’t and won’t abandon you.  And in them, I find I get closer to Him, as I spend more time in prayer, I need Him more.  No surprises for Him that weekend, but there was for us.  And we learned to minister on the run much more effectively than in any session.  You can’t teach experience, and no one wants problems to come, but we need to know where to turn when they do.  And lean on Jesus, rather than our own understanding.  It is good to know about God, but it better to now God.  And situations will be provided for you to get closer to Him, to let Him be God, and show you mercy and grace.  Even after flat tires, no showers, chasing bikers through town, and having a man fall on lap...just when the meal was to begin.  A series of interruptions, but to God planned for us to see Him in all His grace.  And we did...and I just hope the next time is less eventful.

For after that, even the 91 looked good, the 215 moved, and the 60 was only a short ride.  Merle would recover, and ride again, but no Seasons would ever give me more refreshing in Christ than this one.  Seeing God in the situation, and trusting Him. Sometimes being drug ahead kicking and screaming, but for our own good.  That’s the God of love I know, and who works all things out for my good.  Just one night, or just one week, better is one day in His courts than thousands elsewhere.  And as for Merle, his name really wasn’t Merle, and I still don’t know his name.  Only in Riverside....

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

cheap horsepower

When I decided to take another route when walking with the hound yesterday, while she was sniffing out for a place to go, my ears were filled with the sound of a V-twin approaching from behind.  And as it got closer, it was of the non-Milwaukee brand, but an Indian Scout, of the vintage of 4 or 5 Indian Motorcycle Company owners ago, painted Indian Motorcycle Blue, one of the three colors available in the catalogue, the others being Indian Motorcycle Red, and Indian Motorcycle Black.  A dark blue, but with no shine, it didn’t reflect the sunlight hitting the tank.  Boring would best describe it.  But the sound, a symphony from its exhaust, was definitely not stock.  It was just loud enough to be heard by the Yuppie mom pushing her kid in one of those weird three wheeled strollers, while on her i-pod, sending her into a discourse of how “you’ll never ride one of those,” not heard over the exhaust sound while he was thinking “some day I’m gonna have one like that.”  Loud, but yet not loud enough to set off the alarm in any soccer mom’s SUV.  Just the right sound.  And this guy riding it played it perfectly, upshifting at the right point so as to keep the music going, but then reminding me as he entered a 25mph posted curve that I usually take at 45-50 mph, that his second gear entry was all the lean angle his bike could handle, and why people don’t buy bikes that are slow, heavy, and with a maximum lean angle not to exceed the side stand, while painted a dull color.  A bike so slow it made a Sportster seem fast.  Right before your extremities fell asleep from the vibration.  But oh that sound...cheap horsepower.

You may not know that our concession via technology for dry and warm clothes has made cold and damp clothes a thing of the past.  When the dryer became popular, many clotheslines died a silent death, but few know that they did away with cheap horsepower for kids.  Not the clothesline per se, but the one thing that made the clothesline work, the clothespin.  And if you remember, clothespin plus baseball cards were cheap horsepower for our bikes.  Using the clothespin to attach the card to the front fork or fender brace, added a sound missing from today’s culture.  For 5 cents you could buy a pack of cards, chew the gum that came with it, and have backup power available when the card went limp.  You learned that the front wheel provided the best sound, although some would try the rear also, and at certain speeds the sound was intoxicating, just like the sound I heard yesterday.  And many Mickey Mantle, Roger Maris, and Sandy Koufax cards are available today due to careful choosing of the cards.  Guys like Lou Klimchock and Al Moran gave up their collectability for cheap horsepower.  And some entire teams like the Indians or White Sox are noticeably absent today due to cheap horsepower.   

Proving that some get older but never grow up, when riding with a group, really a crowd years ago, Theresa and I would ride our Bonnevilles, so we could keep up with the slower Harleys.  They were louder, and at a top speed of 45 mph in 5th gear, the sound was deafening, proving the postulate that if you can’t be fast, you can be loud.  So Dick, seeking revenge and also not wanting to her feel left out, after breakfast one morning showed us how he had attached a card via a clothespin to Theresa’s front wheel.  We had cheap horsepower, but the illusion was short lived, as once the Harley’s started up, she still couldn’t be heard above the rumble.  But she was able to shift as high as third gear at times...cheap horsepower via a thoughtful friend, so we looked for a 25 mph zone with no traffic to appreciate it.  Where have all the fun bikes and fun people gone?

Now just about anyone can assure you that power is a good thing, but is only effective when it reaches the ground.  Burnouts are fun, but are from lack of traction.  And it is also hard to steer when your front wheel is off the ground, so it takes power under control to make all the new found power work.  Meekness it is called in the Bible, and although it is written that the meek shall inherit the earth, it doesn’t mean the nerds you pantsed in high school who are making all the toys Yuppies can’t live without.  The meek are those who have their actions under control, because they have their attitudes under control, and it is shown via the choices they make.  Now meekness is one of the fruits of the spirit, which are God’s characteristics.  Imagine God not under control-you’re toast.  Imagine sin not being forgiven by Jesus?  HELL-o!  Imagine no truth, and you have chaos.  You may have power, but with no control.  So we find in God, meekness, which allows us to forgive someone who is unforgivable.  To love someone who is unlovable, and to endure those who turn against us.  We show love, because He loved us first, and we show it via meekness.  And we will inherit the earth, along with the new heaven that is promised to all who have placed faith in Jesus Christ.  As if salvation wasn’t enough, we get meekness thrown in for free.  Along with love, joy, peace, and patience, goodness and kindness. Good things that at least as of today there are no laws against.  Unlike laws against loud pipes.  So try a little meekness today in your decisions.  When in a position to seek revenge, show kindness.  Endure those who ride slow.  Forgive those who don’t ride your brand or shop at Nordy’s.  Take the earplug out of your ear and converse with your kids.  You both might learn something.  Tip the waitress extra, she works hard enough having to deal with people like you.  Exercise your power of love under control, and watch as the smile crosses your face, so big it can be seen inside your helmet.  Take some time with your kids, and find some clothes pins and some of your collectible cards and make noise.  Show them how to wheelie-how to enjoy being a kid.  Find a parking lot or field and do burnouts-have some fun, all under control.  And watch as your attitude is infectious, smile when frowned upon, that’ll really mess with their minds.

I think I am going to rewalk yesterday’s route, hoping that Indian comes by again.  Maybe flag him down, ask him to make some passes just for me.  Better yet, maybe I’ll just take a ride of my own.  The header on my Tiger makes that triple wail like none other.  And if you tell me loud pipes save lives, I’ll argue they may not or no one would ever die, but they sure do add life to riding a motorcycle.  Cheap horsepower, but only effective when it reaches the ground.  Don’t let technology steal the fun of being a kid from you....a choice you can make, and yes, the meek will inherit the earth.  Motorcycles are not boring, your life doesn’t have to be either.  No one ever called Jesus boring.  Life doesn’t have to be either, all for the lack of a clothespin.  Wanna join the revolution?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

let it snow-just somewhere else

Theresa wanted to live in a cabin in the woods, and her impression of Colorado winters was about to change our first married winter there.  She was from So Cal, where people freeze when the temp hits below 50, so in no way was she ready for the 500 inches of snow we had that winter.  Or the days that it would get up to minus 10.  But somehow we got up every morning, and drove to town to work.  Only a 27 mile drive, going all the way down to 6500” elevation in Durango.  For we lived at 8300” at Vallecito Lake, in a real log cabin, in a national forest.  And despite heavy snow, one time we had 96 inches in 96 hours, nobody missed work-you dealt with it.  And only one day did we miss, when we got out before the plows, if you think you are tough, try driving a plow in zero visibility blizzards, with no guardrails in the mountains.  No do overs when you fall hundreds of feet down off a cliff, so you learn to drive.  But that one day we did beat the plows, we did make it almost ten miles from home, and were within a half mile of being on the down side when our Rabbit couldn’t push the snow anymore-we only had 18” at the time, higher than the front bumper,  and it was still coming down, so we had to back down the road for almost 5 miles-head out the window, and my beard froze and broke off.  Consider that next time you get cold, or complain about the weather.  But other than that, we never failed to get out, but sometimes it would take longer than others.

When it gets below zero, cars are slow to start, oil turns to molasses, and once started, take forever to warm up.  But don’t worry, spring is coming in 4 months.  But the Rabbit never failed to start, and was the hero in our group of cabins one morning when it hit –42f.  Slowly it turned, and then we jump started others, who helped others.  What neighbors did, and if one went to town, would check with the others for supplies needed.  But the snow could get deep, remember the snow plow guys, and so you put a broom handle standing up against the car, high enough to be seen, so it didn’t get hit, or buried.  And more than once, followed the plow into town, when we could keep up with them.  But like any neighborhood, there were 72 of us on 22 miles of shoreline, there is always one who stands out, proving every village as an idiot.  Ours was Butch, who owned the lodge next door, and the tractor with a plow attachment.  We were only renters, and he reminded us every chance he got, including one subzero morning when he plowed us in after clearing his drive.  When he demanded $50 to dig us out, I said “hold on, I’ll be right back.”  And as I approached him, he smiled thinking he was going to be $50 richer, but the joke was on him.  I wasn’t alone, I had Mr. Ruger with me, all .357 magnum of him.  And after reminding him I had one bullet for each cylinder of his tractor, he decided to dig me out, and in the future even cleared a spot for me.  Without even a shot being fired!  He had faith, I had works.  You decide.

How deep is a lot of snow?  Deep enough that houses are built with doors on the second floor leading outside.  So deep I stood in snow and washed second story windows.  The dogs steeped down onto the roof and slept by the chimney.  So as I watch the blizzard warnings on TV, I am reminded of big snow, where we slowed down, but never stopped.  Even growing up in Jersey, where snow is gray, I didn’t find out its true color until Colorado, we rarely missed school.  My dad was a teacher, and would get called early, a phone chain set up to call others, and rarely did he get the call.  And if he did, I still delivered the Star Ledger every morning, rain, sleet, or snow.  Maybe teachers and paperboys were tougher than we gave them credit.  But life went on....Now in Colorado, you can get snow in the mountains any time of year.  One 4th of July had me going over Red Mountain Pass on my Z-1 in a t-shirt, and 3 days later following the plow over Wolf Creek Pass, in the snow!  So I have had my fill, and if it going to snow, let it snow somewhere else.  A lesson learned all because Theresa wanted to live in a cabin in the woods, now we live in So Cal, a much better choice for those of us who ride.  And, by the way, only one winter did we store the bike, when we couldn’t get it the 100 feet from the cabin to the street.  But one long day of digging out in 3 feet of snow cured that.  So as I prepare for a high of 85 degrees today, I can say to all of you stuck in the snow-been there, done that, got the shovel to prove it.  While you shovel, we go to the beach. 

Now winter is mentioned 16 times in the Bible.  Cold and snow are no stranger to God, we need them to ski and for snowmobiling, and for the water we fill our pools with in summer.  Each season has its purpose, winter for snow, summer for riding, spring for baseball,and fall for football.  Just like God intended.  So He created the seasons for a reason, even tilted the earth 23 degrees on its axis so we would have them.  But in reference to Jesus, He tells us of a season of His return.  Not the date, or the time, but a season.  So those who are watching will know and be ready.  And the  warnings are there...just watch the news.  As the south gets pounded with snow, and we get pounded with heat and draught, His warnings of unusual weather in that season are there for all to see.  We now have tornado and hurricane seasons-just a media hype or has the increase alarmed you too?  How many tsunamis do you remember growing up?  So He warns us to be alert, to be looking.  Matthew warns us to pray your flight isn’t in winter, long before the Wright Brothers.  Acts tells us of frozen harbors that make Phoenix unreachable in winter-Arizona?  Jeremiah tells of the king sitting before a fire in winter, safe from the cold.  So don’t forget God has created both summer and winter for us, which should come as no surprise.  Except to the media, who over react to the weather, rather than turning to God.  When in cold and warm, it is best to rest in Him. 

So look to Jesus today, that season is upon us.  But He also talks of a day of salvation, He calls it today.  If saved, you have had your day, rejoice in it.  If not, today may be your day.  Step out of your comfort zone, and into the arms of a loving God.  Follow Him in faith, just like we used to follow the plow.  And remember, the only day we never made it was getting out before Him, and trying to make it on our own.  May be a lesson there for all of us.  That day it only cost me a beard, what will not following God cost you?

The rain falls on the just and the unjust.  So does the snow.  A  lesson learned all because Theresa wanted to live in a cabin in the woods.

love with compassion,

Mike

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