before freeways

Growing up we had Route 22, the closest thing to an Interstate Highway, before we had the Interstate System.  A curious road, once known as the busiest road in the nation, who’s brilliant designer channeled it from 3 lanes to 2 just as you get closer to New York City, creating an even bigger traffic jam.  A road lined with red lights, jug handle exits, and many famous to those who travelled it land marks.  Unforgettable sights such as The Flagship, Leaning Tower of Pizza, Two Guys from Harrison, and forbidden places like the Greenbrook Motel.  But not all America is like Route 22, and even 22 as it goes into the Pennsylvania countryside may seem boring to those city folks or subdivision types who commute on it, but to me it is the open door to getting out of the city.  To places where no Walmart or Mickey D’s has polluted the economy.  Where stop signs still rule, and stop lights warn of intersections, with signs showing the mileage in each direction.  You thought you were nowhere, only to find you are only 22 miles to somewhere.  Or less.  Where towns have more cattle than people, pumps you cannot pay at, and menus written on erasable boards. Where fresh pies, baked on the premises happily ruin your diet, and sweet tea is offered as the drink of preference.  A far cry from an Interstate, the roads have names, not numbers, the people have names and not just faces.  It is a land uninhabited by Mapquest, not on any AAA map, yet so close you can miss it.  These are the roads and places we choose to travel.  Where we spend our time on the road.  Our escape routes from the city, and or trip back to an America before freeways.  A road not may will take, out of fear of the unknown.  And never know what they are missing.

Did you know you can ride from San Diego to Los Angeles without using any freeways?  And that many towns exist off of freeways, just not accessible by them?  On our recent 11 day, 2000 mile ride, we were never farther than 500 miles from home, and only rode on freeways when we had to, about 300 total miles.  We took some roads that we wondered where they went to, ate at places where the owner carries a spatula and sells his homegrown tomatoes at the counter.  We found home made burritos for $3.49 and left full.  In a country market.  Where we met a priest on a mission for cat food as he explained.  We ate pancakes that would embarrass IHOP, for half the price, and twice the size.  We learned that Mr. Kennedy eats there every day, and it must be 9:15 as he is going back to his farm.  That Joe from Brown’s Cycle eats there every Sunday morning.  And all served in sizes and flavor that no designer food restaurant could ever duplicate.  Where food covers the platter, no whites of the plate in evidence.  But of late, we see the city folk encroaching, and things are beginning to change.  We see the yuppie influence, where they know the price of everything, but don’t know the value of anything.  They envision life here as it is where they are from, and courtesy and respect are foreign terms.  Where their coffee cup is always full, and at a fraction of the price for their latte.  Their detailed BMW’s sticking out among the pick ups with mud on them and the smell of the ranch, the only time they open their windows are at the drive up.  They pay by credit card, don’t tip well, and can operate an i-pad, but cannot hold a conversation.  At least not without a cell phone to text on.  America is changing, and I miss America.  I have seen the future, and give me the back roads and all that goes with it.  Give me people with all our foibles anytime.  Give me variety, pancakes not from a box.  Pies from a recipe, not written down, and a smile and welcome where they really mean it.  Give me roads that lead to other roads, that go somewhere.  Past farms, small towns, general stores, and kids waving from front yards.  Where your change is counted out as it is handed back to you, and you are thanked with a smile.  You’re welcome, and you are.  Roads that predate even Route 22, a time and place that a young Dorothy Gale envisioned, “somewhere over the rainbow,” that she didn’t realize she had already found.  Roads built that are meant to be ridden on by motorcycles, with curves, elevation drops, and no white lines.  That start where they begin, and go onto other places.  Nowhere and everywhere, all at once.  My kind of ride....

Many a sojourner, a traveller of earth, has set out to find God, only to arrive at a dead end.  They took all the right roads, followed the directions given, but yet ended up nowhere.  They started lost, and ended up even more lost, and wondered why some get it, and others don’t.  What is the secret to a life with God?  What exit in life do I take?  Why don’t I know where I am or where I am going?  Sound familiar, it is, as we all at one time or another have tried to work out our own salvation.  We read books, tried astrology, maybe even went to church.  Some picked up a Bible, but when it made no sense, or offended their morals, put it down.  They were looking for something, not realizing it was really a someone who they needed.  They carefully planned their trip, did all he right things, graduated college, got married, had kids, but yet were unfulfilled.  They knew the price of what they had, just not the value of it.  Values were placed by what it cost, or could be invested and resold at.  They never just go for a ride, not realizing they were being taken for one.  They may even be religious, but not at peace.  They have a form of godliness, but don’t have the savior.  They have no peace, because there is no Jesus.  If only they had taken the time to put down the cell phone in traffic, and read the simple bumper sticker ahead of them, “know Jesus, know peace.”  A peace not found on any web site, and a destination of the heart, not of the mind.  Where God gets the glory, you don’t.  And when you come to the point where you find you can’t save yourself, that your values don’t add up, you find Jesus is right there with you.  A familiar face you have never seen, and welcomes you.  He takes you down peaceful paths, past still waters, and to a time and place you could only dream of.  And promises you a place that is beyond description.  A ride down roads just to see where they lead, led by Him.  And suddenly we are not strangers any longer, but friends, and we long for heaven, just to be with Him.  For before freeways, before highways, surface streets, lanes, or paths, there was Jesus.  The way.  Just waiting for you, arms open.  Offering you what you are looking for, at a price you can’t afford-free.  A price so expensive it took God to pay it.  And for only us to enjoy.

And He comes to you, just as you are.  City, country, subdivisions, and even behind bars.  He goes to you-free delivery from sins.  He is the portion of life you are missing, the ride you can only dream of, a meal that can be eaten over and over.  He is not an end, but a beginning, not an exit, but an entrance, with the road open for you to follow.  He is that road that many will pass over, afraid of what they might have to give up, not knowing what they have to gain.  What would you do?  Are you along for the trip, or still looking at maps to life?  Right now, wherever you are, He asks you to let Him into your heart.  To ride along, to show you where to ride, where to eat.  To give you value to your valuables.  To get out and into life, for He is life.  He is the fork in the road you need to take, are you coming along?  All roads lead to somewhere, only one leads to Christ.  He made it that simple.  Don’t make it difficult.  Let’s ride.  There’s this road I know, just not sure where it leads....aren’t you glad God does?  So close you can miss Him-don’t!  Long before freeways, He was and still is the free way!

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com 

the BMW in the bedroom

Looking back, my parents never liked motorcycles.  And one event in my life probably justified that belief more than others.  I had always worked, from age 12 with a paper route, through high school, and then in college, before I dropped out.  So I had saved money, I wanted to have something to show for all my work, which resulted in motorcycles.  And 3 of my first 4 were BMW’s, the first two both totaled, I was hit both times in Florida, and my next one was a 1974 R90S, all bought new.  I had delivered a lot of The Star ledger!  But when it came time to take a month off from work for my cross country trip from New Jersey to California, I had a little help from my friends putting my R90S in my bedroom...up a flight of stairs on the second floor!  Much harder than it sounds, and even harder to get down, their house was filled with the aroma of Sunoco 260 filling its tank, and of the one time I started it inside...I just had to hear how it sounded.  But for a period of two months in the summer of 1975 my parents could claim they had a BMW in the bedroom.  A claim I am sure they never told anyone, but that really happened.  Today we talk of barn finds, finding vehicles hidden away in barns or sheds, but  you never hear of finding them in a bedroom.  Or storing them in one.  But it set a precedent, for over the years I have been impressed when others brought their motorcycles into the house, Por Favor had a TM 250 in his living room, and an RD350 in the closet-they both ran, and Pete and Benjie used to keep their Harleys in their apartment, and Brett and I parked our bikes in our motel room one year at Laguna Seca, so maybe it isn’t as unique an event as I thought.  But I will never forget the steps getting it up, then wondering how I would get it down...with a lotta help from my friends.

My first three houses were ranch style, after being raised in two houses with second stories.  Even my grandparent’s houses had steps, so it was inevitable that my house would have them too.  And living in one with four levels, I have climbed more steps in my days, usually when I forget what I need when I get to the garage from our bedroom on the top floor.  21 steps, I know them all by heart, and will probably go up and own them a dozen times today.  So I have even gone to the point of having reading glasses on each floor, just in case, as each floor has a bathroom.  Think of them as a library on every floor....all motorcycles still live in the garage.  On the first floor, no steps to the street.  But it seems my life is filled with stairways, even visiting Dave in jail the other day, the waiting room on the second floor is up by elevator, but you must walk down stairs to get the elevator to inmate visiting.  I was so amazed at the woman visiting her husband in her wheel chair, I forgot to ask how she got there.  Did she have to use the stairs?

And so stairs are a part of everyday life.  Even sung about in song, by Led Zeppelin in Stairway to Heaven.  One of the all time greatest songs since 1971, it over the years has still not yet divulged its true meaning to us.  Even the writers, Jimmy Page and Robert Plant won’t tell....or can’t due to the influence of drugs, but stairways to heaven even proceed them.  And are not new to God, in fact over 5000 years ago He revealed the original stairway to heaven to Jacob.  In Genesis 28 we are told of Jacob’s ladder, where God showed Jacob angels going up and down from heaven to earth.  But the word in Hebrew is “sulam,” meaning stairway.  Not a ladder in the modern sense of the word, but a stairway, the original stairway to heaven.  So wide, think if all the 6 billion plus of us have a guardian angel sent from God, then returning back to report, that is one busy stairway.  A heavenly escalator beyond description.  And in use now for over 6000 years, it has served billions, and McDonalds thinks it has served billions!  And it exists today, and will into the future, as it is mentioned in both the Old Testament, and the New.  In the past, and in the future!  Bringing not only angels, but Jesus Christ, the original barn find, returning to earth for His church.  We are told how Jesus tells His disciples how “He saw heaven open, and the angels of God descending upon the Son of Man.”  Reinforcing God’s promise to Jacob in Genesis about His ever presence, His protection, His promise of taking him home, and of never leaving us.  Sounds like Jesus to me, I will never leave you nor forsake you....truly God is in control. 

But He still leaves the choice up to us.  An open invitation to climb Jacob’s staircase to heaven, or follow the footsteps to hell.  We are all on the path, and only Jesus offers the way and the direction.  He is the ladder, the way to heaven that God showed to Jacob, as the word it, used to describe it, in Hebrew can also mean He.  He as in God, as in Jesus, as in the Holy Spirit.  Even before that night in Bethlehem, one night thousands of years earlier in the same town God was affirming His promise of a way to heaven.  Of a way out of this world.  Today many will refer to the man upstairs, when referring to God.  But God is not only what He is, but who He is.  And we get to call Him by His first name, Jesus.  Make it personal with Him today, get to know Him.  He knows your name, do you know His?

Many have heard of the car found in the barn, and even if it is an urban legend will believe.  I really had a BMW in my bedroom, but found out it really belonged out on the street.  Which was better for me than sleeping in the garage in its room.  Up the stairs was hard, down again was harder.  Today many are falling down those stairs into hell, when it can be easier to climb them to heaven.  And unlike the Led Zep version, you cannot buy it.  It is paid for, a free offer, and a free ride.  You couldn’t afford it, for all that glitters is not gold.  So as some try to buy a stairway to heaven, God sent a person to show us the way, to be the way.  And like Huey Lewis and the News sung in Jacob’s Ladder, “step by step, one by one...” take that walk with God up Jacob’s ladder today.  A staircase of grand dimensions, with stairs wider than can be imagined.  At the end of a straight and narrow path.  But it takes faith, and God has given each of us enough of it to choose Him.  But it is still our choice.  God has prepared a mansion with many rooms for us, Jesus tells us it is so.  I wonder what will be at the top of the stairs in heaven for me?  All I know is that the trip will be easier than pushing 450 pounds of motor cycle up them.  And the reward will be greater.  And if there happens to be a BMW when I get there, there will also be room to ride it.  Now that’s a bedroom I can learn to live in. 

My dream home for now is like Steve McQueen’s Santa Paula Airport hangar.  Cars, bikes, beds, and living all in one cool room.  A big room for all our bikes, and friends to gather.  But today we will have to be content with our garages, and the steps to them.  Make your next step Jesus, and insure a heavenly room with room to ride in.  You’ve heard the songs, read the book, bought the album, and seen the posters.  Get ready for the trip of your life.  A highway to hell or a stairway to heaven?  There’s still time to change the road you’re on.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

branded

A man after commenting on my Bonneville the other day, asked me if I was a Triumph man?  I was at first taken aback, as although I own four, I also own two Suzukis, and ride new Triumphs for them, I never thought of myself as a Triumph man.  So after a few seconds, to ponder his question, I answered “yes,” seeing he was trying to direct me to the Bar and Shield that he rode.  He was a Harley man, and thought everyone should be.  He was proud of his brand, and thought it to be the best, and couldn’t see why anyone else would ride anything different.  Some may call him narrow minded, but he saw himself as loyal to the brand.  A Harley rider first and foremost, then maybe a motorcyclist.  Not the other way around.  I tend to have a common disease that many who ride have, it is called motorcycles.  We love them, ride them, and even have friends outside of our chosen brand, but first and foremost we ride.  And the let those that ride decide starts with the brand you ride.

I know many Harley owners who can tell you all you want to know, or don’t want to know about Harleys, but don’t know a thing about any other brand.  They live and breath, and bleed black and orange, and many have bought into the lifestyle, or the perception of what riding a Harley means.  They ride, but are they really motorcyclists?  Being involved with various motorcycle ministries over the years, many ride Harleys and tolerate the rest of us who ride too fast, whose bike handles better, who have great brakes, and doesn’t cost a paycheck to get serviced.  And that can use any oil, not just the HD brand.  After tiring of hearing about what great riders they were, and how they loved motorcycles, I asked them a question.  Sounded simple enough, but the answer surprised me.  The question was “if only two stroke 250cc motorcycles are available tomorrow, would you still ride?”  Almost without thinking, most of them said they would quit riding.  How would you have answered?  Maybe there was more to their answer than they wanted us to know, or admit to themselves. 

Years ago my friend Rick Johnson, the moto-x legend, and I did business on his race truck.  When he found out I rode, he asked me to ride with him and his dad some Sunday on their Harleys.  Wait a minute, he was factory Honda.  I figured he would own the fastest and bestest Honda, but no, he loved motorcycling, and of course loves to ride.  The moto-x bike was just his work bike, and he had others to ride when needed.  So was he a Honda man, a Harley man, or a motorcyclist?  Talking with Sonny Barger over the years, he is quoted in his first book how they are stuck we Harleys, because they were the only American made bike available.  He knew all about my Triumphs, was interested in the Japanese bikes, and even knew hey were more reliable and offered more performance.  Yet when we talked last year at Hollister, he was riding a Victory, and loved it, he muttered to me, “I never liked them,” meaning Harleys, but now had a choice, and switched.  This year when we talked, he was on a new Indian, that he was doing some work to, needs more performance, and is very happy with his new choice.  Now is he an Indian man, a Victory rider, a Harley man, or a motorcyclist?  He knows all about the others, he chooses American made, not the brand, but the origin of the beast.  And he understands why I ride Triumphs, he told me about the new performance of them, but they “aren’t American.”  Finally Spud, who sells Harleys, is always interested when I come by on a press bike.  On a Daytona R, about as far as you can get from a cruiser, he showed particular interest.  He had read about them, and someday would like to ride one, but his job wouldn’t allow it.  He was like a kid at Christmas, asking but not receiving, for he too has the disease we call motorcycles.  So if asked, to me it is more important that you ride, rather than what you ride.  And many of us will agree, those who are short sighted may not fully understand the brotherhood of motorcyclists, and are missing out on the fullness it has to offer.  But we welcome you any way, and rest assured, I am glad you ride, no matter what brand, size, or origin.  Two wheels truly fill the soul....

When people find out I am in ministry, they are often taken aback, “you are a minister?”  thinking I man a pulpit.  It further confuses them when asked what church, I tell them “I minister with many churches, and outside of the church.”  They are looking to identify me with a religion, a denomination so they can figure me out.  Baptist-do I have rules running my life?  Lutheran-am I big on teaching?  Catholic-the only true church to many?  Episcopal-or Catholic light as my firned Bruce calls it, all the rules, just not all the ceremony.  But when I tell them I am a Christian, and worship at Maranatha, a Calvary Chapel, they get confused.  What religion is that? I am a Christian, who loves the teaching, and the basis on being guided by the holy spirit.  I have attended Baptist, Catholic, Four Square, Assemblies of God, and various fundamental churches over the years, but God has me at Maranatha.  And I am a Christian, a follower of Jesus Christ first and foremost, no matter where I worship.  I am not brand specific, and yet I have denominational enslaved friends who think I am breaking a law, and not religious enough.  Like Fr. Al once told me, his Catholic friends tell him he is not Catholic enough.  Speaking five languages, and knowing all the catechisms, and masses in Latin isn’t enough.  His born again friends tell him he isn’t born again enough, since he read the Psalms, which he loved.  Needs to be in the New Testament more.  And was even in trouble with his superiors for giving communion to non-Catholics.  He preferred Christ over any denominational restrictions, he loved Jesus most of all.  And I use him as an example of a blessed man in ministry, both within and without the church and its blessings. 

If asked, what are you, how would you answer?  I love Jesus first and foremost, and all people.  Even those who are religious, I pray for their release from religion, and for freedom in the spirit.  And I pray for all who ride, you ride so you already get it.  But don’t limit yourself to one brand, one type.  Don’t be branded religiously or by what you ride.  Be known as a Christian, keeping Jesus in the forefront, and ride whenever and whatever you can.  Choose Jesus, and all the other decisions will be easier after that.  You will know true freedom, and walk in truth, not legalism.  And after all isn’t that why we ride, for the freedom we have in it?  I may not be able to describe it, but you would still have to understand it anyway.  So try Jesus today, spend time with Him and in His word.  Get to know Him better, breaking down all the rules.  He lets you make the choice, choose Jesus, then all things will be added unto you.  And as for why I ride Triumphs, I tell people “you are what you ride.”  My life is a Triumph in Jesus.  Says so right in the Bible...”Shout unto the Lord with a voice of Triumph!”  Psalm 47:1.  To you Fr. Al, and all those who have found true freedom in the Lord.  Maybe loud pipes do make a difference after all...but still only Jesus saves.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

a serious draught of nobility

Reruns of Starsky and Hutch are on now, and fill a void to remind us of what it was like in the seventies.  The show somehow manages to incorporate police work with the love lives of these two trendy disco era males.  Hutch played by David Soul (Solberg) plays the in touch with his inner being, sprout eating, yoga, socially aware detective. Living in his earth tone decorated apartment.  Remember when men didn’t have plants everywhere, until our girlfriends brought out our more sensitive side?  And Starsky plays the cool, hot rodder, his Torino with the white stripe Hutch described as a tomato, racing through the streets of Bay City, breaking every traffic law once the command of “zebra 3” is heard.  Perfect hair, it never moved, remember all the time we spent styling before we put our helmets on, only to have bad hair? When really helmet head was the badge of honor?   His driving to me is funny, as in one scene he smacks a curb coming to a stop, the right front wheel obviously bent in, hard hit, but due to 5 Starsky cars available, they are off again in the next scene, catching crooks, beating them up, or swilling brew at Huggy Bear’s.  But one common theme throughout the series is their girlfriends.  They all die, move back to Russia, like Hutch’s ballerina love, turn out to be hookers, which is better than junkies, can’t decide which of the two they really love more, or go into a witness protection program.  A serious draught of lasting relationships, we find them the next week chasing skirt, eating fondue, or on a sofa after a date at Huggy’s listening to smooth jazz.  Candles burning just enough to illuminate the plants, bean bag furniture and lava lamps included.  But what they suffer from is a serious draught of nobility, they have an open mind, but not a cautious heart.  At least the music is good, Lalo Schifrin and Tom Scott....

Spending last week in Central California, we have a serious draught.  I’ve seen it, it is scary.  Even the freeway signs are warning us now.  How bad is it?  Lakes are now puddles, some gone altogether.  Some have become fields, golf courses springing up on them.  Fields where once crops blossomed are now dust bowls with weeds.  Signs abound warning of how Pelosi and Boxer shut off water to preserve some mud sucking fish.  Putting many out of work, causing both social and economical draughts.  Arroyos are not free flowing, fields lie dormant, but yet one crop continues to flourish-grapes.  For wineries.  And I see another serious draught of nobility, as not only is wine the trendy crop now fro California, but no food is grown where it once was.  Adding to a food shortage, driving up prices.  When combined with fewer crops, no water, and more people to feed, we see the evidence of being trendy and its results.  Just like Jesus warned.  When we are hungry, should we all drink wine?  Somehow the vintners have water....curious.  Could it be all the taxes on wine that help them get water?  But we see a man made, and God aided draught of nobility in full focus.  But this time it is a closed mind, based on what we want, as opposed to what we need-food.  And water.  With the heart also being neglected, and we thought we were selfish in the seventies?  No wonder earth colors are coming back in style-brown is the new green as signs proclaimed in farming towns, and water is only served on request-at least for awhile.  Where are Starsky and Hutch when we need them?  Where is our nobility, and where has it gone?  How do we get it back?

“Let them eat cake,” Marie Antoinette once told the peasants when she heard they were out of bread.  Ignorant to the fact they were poor and had no cake either, she lost her head.  Literally and figuratively.  Today many Christians have lost their heads, and some hearts, and a serious draught of nobility has set in.  With so many teachers available, I hear people quote those heard on KWVE-I only listen to such and such.  Many are devoted to their pastors, whatever they say is the truth-he would never lie.  Many are addicted to TV evangelists, whom the Bible warns about.  Yet many don’t quote Jesus.  They follow teachers of the word, instead of following the word.  Now there are many great teachers out there, and they will tell you to be in the word, don’t quote them.  Question God, and He will guide you.  Have a relationship with the God of the Bible, not the gods of the media.  Check it out with God in His word so you won’t be led astray.  And even worse are those who go on a crusade of opinions, until they find one who agrees with their sin, usually going against scripture and its sound advice.  Sin will always be sin....but yet they look for the loophole.  Eating cake instead of the daily bread Jesus provides.  Yet among the draughts within many lives and churches, some flourish.  They are like the tree planted by streams of water in Psalm 1, and flourish in their season.  They have learned to trust God, and let the teaching encourage them to go deeper.  To take a Berean approach, filling the heart and the head, being renewed daily by the word.  They quote Jesus, and stand on strong scriptural ground, rather than denominational opinion or polls.  And instead of  asking “what would Jesus do?”  they remember what Jesus did, and don’t have to ask.  The word is written on their hearts and not just bracelets and t-shirts, or bumper stickers.  They don’t need to tell you they are a Christian, their life is a witness of Jesus.  And they quote Him in words, actions, and attitudes. They are well rounded, and don’t place the pearls of God before swine where they can be misinterpreted or misquoted and used against them.  They are the church that Jesus wants us to be, and is coming back for.  But there is still time to get back to basics....

Starsky and Hutch was just a show with actors.  Life shouldn’t be.  The scripts for life are found in 66 books called the Bible, all inspired by God for use by us to grow and become closer to Him.  And the principals even work in the secular world, a way to show Jesus without preaching.  Try telling the truth, having integrity, listening before speaking, and showing compassion.  How about honesty?  Things that are noticed by their absence today.  Where the serious draught of nobility exists, fill it with manna (what is it) from heaven.  And when asked, share your testimony, and let God do the rest.  And find rest among the turmoil.  It is called joy, not the absence of suffering, but the presence of God.

Come out of your witnessing protection program and grow in Christ.  Be all you can be in Him, and watch as others are affected.  How your life changes, and you can see through the lies of the world and politicians.  You will have the truth, and it will set you free, and keep you free.  Quote scripture, never say “Mike says,” go to the source and if I’m wrong, gently correct me.  It is called grace, and where it abounds we find freedom.  Quote the original teacher, the only one quote worthy, the great teacher, rabbi, and wonderful counselor.  Get it first hand from he word....don’t be like some whose spiritual life is only like a song on the radio.  Find in the word what the spirit has told you, and watch as the draught of nobility turns into steams of joy.  Overflowing, filled up.  Or there is always Capt. Dobey’s advice-“shut up and get out my office and back to work.” 

Things are different with Jesus...be in the word, and then let the word be in you.  And you won’t have to ask “what did Jesus do?”  Your life will be the answer to what He is doing.  Rather noble if you think about it.  After all He is the King of Kings.  And while kings and kingdoms fade away, there will always be something special about that name.

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

 

like pushing a wheelbarrow through gravel

I love to watch as they sit on the shiny new bikes sitting on the showroom floor, leaning, sitting, and pretending they are riding.  Finding a comfortable position, maybe even putting their feet up on the pegs, some crouching down as if in the wind, others sitting straight up, proud-who’s watching as I pick out my new ride?  Do they wish they were me?  But the one thing that is missing, the one thing that is different about your seat time versus real life is you won’t be sitting still when riding, you will be moving.  You will have wind in your face, your legs will be bent at a different angle, and you will find a different part of the seat to occupy.  Yet very few if any demo rides are offered, and I wonder how many bikes are sold based on how comfortable it is in the showroom.  Only to be found out how different it is on the road.  For instance, I find a Daytona R easy to sit on at the shop, but murder on my wrists and neck in slow traffic.  Get out above 80, and it is a different ride, now it is comfortable.  Tucked in, legs up, just like it was designed for-speed, and lots of it.  A few years ago I rode a Ducati Diavel on a Cycle World ride, again comfortable in the lot, but at speed, somehow the seat and feet were at odds-all that power and your feet are ahead of you-just the opposite of a Daytona.  It took a while, but I got used to it, after riding it like it wasn’t a Daytona.  But still seat vs. street situations told a different story.  Fortunately this was only a test ride, and not an after purchase wake up call, as I would have been unhappy, not what it felt like on the showroom floor.

After riding over 2000 miles last week, but never getting farther than 500 miles from home, I again am reassured that the Tiger is the best bike for long distances.  Over 89,000 miles in 48 states are a good testimony to that.  You cannot beat the sitting position, dirt bike style, and long travel, soft suspension help it handle like a sport bike.  But last night riding my Street Triple I am reminded of how well it really handles compared to the Tiger.  Compared to my Bonneville, compared to my old Suzuki.  And I like to use how much tire I wear, the remaining unused portion are referred to as “chicken strips,” and on each bike I have no chicken strips to speak of.  I use all the tire, and can be comfortable on each one.  When ridden as they are designed.  Something you cannot tell from sitting on one on the showroom floor-you must ride then decide.  Which brings me to my latest test ride, a 2014 Indian Chief Vintage.  Their most expensive and heaviest motorcycle, I chose it because I would have Theresa on the back, and it had a back rest.  It is big, weighs over 800 pounds before the $3200 of extra options were on it, the list price then being over $26,000!  It felt good, the detailing was great on the leather, and my feet touched the ground-so far so good.  We were to ride in a group of 10, staying in the group, not exceeding the speed limits, for almost 6 miles.  An around the block road test essentially.  So off we went.  And suddenly what felt so comfortable sitting was like pushing a wheelbarrow through gravel once I went to turn.  This sucker is big, and you cannot finesse it-you follow where it wants you to go.  But once rolling, no matter the speed, it was comfortable.  I always lag behind on these rides, letting the group get ahead, then opening up the throttle, and it was quite powerful, impressive.  I hit the rev limiter in first and second, and got up to almost 80 before catching up to the group, it is deceptively quick, wide power band.  Brakes were adequate, but every time I had to to turn, I had to prepare myself physically, this bike didn’t want to turn, or lean either.  I rode it like I stole it, and this bike I wouldn’t consider stealing...it ain’t me.  But if I had never ridden it, just based on showroom seat time I would have never known.  And getting back on the Tiger afterwards, if I had tried to muscle it like I did the Indian, I would have steered right into a ditch!  Give me a bike that is light, comfortable, and handles any day.  That loves to lean, has great brakes, and power...the Indian will do well with its target audience, I am not within target range, fortunately.  But it makes me wonder, why does the Indian weigh almost 350 pounds more than the Tiger?  What did they forget to take out?  Or what did Triumph forget to add?  Maybe if I bought them by the pound, $32/pound for the Indian, $24/pound for the Tiger, less weight takes less power, and when more power is there, you can go faster, and handle better.  And that $8/pound can buy lots of miles of riding!  But it comes down to the road test, ride it before you buy it.  See for yourself, you are entering into a relationship that will last for a while, or at least until the payments are complete.

So a test ride is more important than we may have thought, but how many have taken a test ride with God?  When first saved the popular story taught was of a young, poor kid who was told God could do anything, just ask in Jesus name.  So this kid figured if God could answer his request, he would become a Christian.  So he went home, sat on his sofa, and asked God for a Cadillac, right down to the colors and options he wanted.  And he sat for a few days, with no word from God, and no Cadillac.  At church the next week, he talked with the pastor, and told him he wasn’t returning, and wasn’t interested in being a Christian.  He had done like he was told, but no Cadillac.  God must not care, or even listen, as he did just as he was told.  And left frustrated, and defeated, he had been lied to.  He was told God was like the Genie in the lamp, and he still had other wishes.  He missed the element of love God has for us, and how He is in control.  His whole experience based on a lie, or a distorted story about God, he never took the test ride, he just believed the hype.  Sadly, too many do.

Ten years ago at a Hollister Rally, I wanted to get a new book out about the Boozefighters history.  We went to their booth, and met Bill Hayes who wrote it, and JQ, the club historian.  While Theresa and Bill talked, JQ put me I a headlock-he was much taller than me.  He had a question about God, some others had asked him.  With my theological juices flowing, my dream test to witness to a biker was about to come true.  I was ready...or so I thought.  His question was simple, “can God make a rock so big that He cannot pick it up?”  And my answer surprised me, and delighted him, not the words I had prepared, but the ones God gave me that day.  “You don’t ask God stupid questions like that!”  And JQ loved it, and was excited to tell others.  And we kept in contact for a while, answering other questions for him.  I had answered the question in truth, simply like the gospel, which is simple so that I can get it. 

Because none of us is righteous, Romans 3:11, we cannot see God because of anything we have done or haven’t done.  It takes grace, and when we see Him face to face, it changes us-not Him.  We are not changed by programs, practices, procedures, or short test rides, but by a person, Jesus Christ.  And the more time we spend with Him, reading, praying, and worshipping Him we are changed, and we see Him personally.  We are changed, not Him.  He never fails.

A short ride on a new Indian told me I was more Tiger material.  But my 39 year ride with Jesus has told me I am grace material.  Only available through the grace of God in Christ Jesus.  We all ride differently, and that is good.  But Jesus is the only way...get some seat time with Him today.  More than just a Sunday morning ride, and find that He is all He promises to be.  And more.  How you enter the curve sets you up for how you exit it.  Follow Jesus, lean on Him.  And enjoy the ride.  Jesus-everything you need, and nothing you don’t.

love with compassion,

Mike

mathew25biker.blogspot.com

many are called, few are bikers

It’s over and in the history books for the ages, and the aged-the Hollister Independence Day Rally is over.  Spread over three days this year, we again attended, and enjoyed it all.  But something was missing this year, maybe an intangible, or even evident to many who attended, over 150,000.  To me the most glaring omission was the lack of old time bikers.  The guys who we remembered and looked up to when we first started riding.  Guys who talked tough and were tough, who rode because they liked to, not because they were forced to.  Or wanted to look trendy.  No money in the early days, many of them and us rode bikes that needed more work than we did, but we rode, and the brotherhood was formed.  And this year many were absent.  As the biker clubs formed after WWII, those men are now in their 80’s or 90’s, too old to ride, but not to old to remember.  And as I looked around, I wondered how many in attendance really know about the birthplace of the American biker?  Or about Hollister, Wino Willie, The Wild One, or even care.  As I saw bike after bike of yuppies with bling, 32” front wheels, and shiny leathers, clean boots or even sandals.  They were there.  Maybe the test ride on the 2014 Indian explained it best, over $26,000 for a new bike, and inside Branscombe Richmond in a blue blazer stomping for Indian.  While just 20 feet away was Sonny Barger, leathers and colors.  Who owns a new Indian, and we talked about the mods he was doing to it, I bet no sound system other than pipes for Sonny.  Yet this new motorcyclist, not quite a biker, as they don’t live the ride, just emulate it on weekends, or as their wives allow, is all about the image.  Being seen on a new Indian, or on a Jap imitation.  Thinking Triumph is made by Honda, and with more BMW snobs than Harley snobs, and more other than Harley snobs, we aren’t the same.  Maybe the signs are there, no one stops for a biker on the side of the road anymore.  It is cell phones and AAA to their rescue.  And with the Hollywood influence, bikers used to influence Hollywood, remember The Wild One?  Now Sons of Anarchy has spawned many biker clubs, gotta have your own club and colors, but where is the brotherhood?  And while eating lunch and watching those watching the Wild One for the first time, how many know that was based on Hollister?  And was the reason for the revival in 1997?  So to those who were the true rebels, who rode because they wanted the freedom, and the brotherhood, who showed us honor and respect, we remember.  And we remember how it was, and how it still is...

Stopping in Paso Robles, we ate a Quiznos with a Ninja 300 parked out front.  Turned out it was owned by the young guy making the sandwiches, and he loved to ride.  His friends in cars didn’t get it, but he did.  Even his name Harley made him want to own one some day, but he loved to ride. He gets it...and even if I could explain it, you still have to get it.  We speak and live a brotherhood, and you are welcome, leave your preconceived ideas at home with your bling, purse dog and cell.  We ride, the road is our friend, and those who ride our brothers.  Maybe it was further explained at Hollister at the BMW display, where a young woman was manning, or was it womanning the booth.  How could BMW fit in with the biker crowd?  And as I explained BMW snobs being worse then Harley snobs, being worse than anything but Harley or BMW sobs, she got it.  It is from the heart, and from that heart stems a rebellion, a desire to not be satisfied with the status quo who all wear black, shiny bikes.  Who all look the same seeking to be individuals.  Many are called, few are bikers.

True rebels, those who think different, who ask questions, and aren’t afraid to act on what others think.  Happens in the biker world everyday, but also in the church.  Marin Luther, fed up with religion that was killing him, sought God.  And found the truth, turning against the established church, and following Jesus.  Can’t be more rebellious than that.  Chuck Smith and Calvary Chapel, reaching out to hippies and bikers, and others who might get the carpet dirty.  Inviting and welcoming them, in one action showing more of the gospel than many crusades ever did.  Showing love, compassion, and in truth.  Respect and brotherhood...if only the church today could get what we bikers know, how it would change things.  But it takes Jesus, the original rebel, to show the way.  To be the leader.  Jesus, who showed forgiveness to those who would not forgive,  who hung out with biker types, and listened.  Telling them the truth, and then showing it.  Going against organized religion and the Pharisees, He showed them a better way, the only way.  He would hang with the 1%’er, and also with the yuppies.  He was no snob, whatever you rode was OK, just so you ride.  And He wants you to be part of the ride that He is, the salvation of man.  The reason He came, to reunite us with God.  No club rules, no colors, jut freedom in the spirit.  He would be the old guy who looked tough, but spoke gently.  He would wave and stop to help.  And in the crowd of Hollister that day He would stand out.  And draw others to Himself.

He would be the ultimate influence, the ultimate rebel among rebels.   Forgiving and loving, showing respect, He is the brotherhood we desire.  He isn’t about test rides, or images, or lifestyles-He is life itself, and welcomes you as you are.  He would be the intangible missing from your life, the old guys telling the stories of how it used to be, and telling of how it will be.  He would encourage brotherhood among the brands, and not preach denominations.  He is love....and all that love is.

Sadly many are called, but few are chosen.  It is their choice, yes to Jesus, or yes to death.  Leaving the choice up to us.  Join the ranks of the truly rebellious today, get saved.  Know the freedom that only Christ can offer.  go beyond colors, brands, denominations, and clubs.  Join the family of God, become one with Christ.  Stop dreaming, stop wondering, and trust Jesus.  The ride of your life lies ahead...maybe those old bikers knew more than we give them credit for.  But Jesus got it right from the start.  Let today be that start, or restart of your life in Christ.  Live and then leave a legacy for others to look upon.  Let I remember when be your daily memory, know the truth and be set free.  Be a rebel!  Jesus was, what are you waiting for?  Many are called....are you one of the few?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com