This post will feature no great event, like being pulled over by cops with drawn guns, like Chapter 36 of God, a Motorcycle, and the Open Road. No heart stopping fear like in Chapter 3 when this hippie biker strolled in a redneck bar. But it has something likely better—an example of how to discover…
Read More
1974, me in the red tank top. With hair. I still have those beads.
Push the Envelope
A hot August night outside Beaumont TX may qualify as one of the worst of my life. I’d cruised out of New Orleans earlier that day, on a chopped ’73 Honda 750. For old riders who remember “Easy Rider,” yeah, it had a metal flake flag painted on the tank and side covers. In the pic above, that’s me with the red tank top. I took off on the trip with no notice and fewer plans. Just a backpack with a few clothes, a sleeping bag, a poncho for a ground cloth, and no tent. That last omission proved problematic. On this night, the heat and humidity kept me from getting in the bag, but the mosquitoes and other unknown biting Southern bugs put me back in. So I gave up about 3 am, and…
Read More
The Fremont Tree
A Good Bed?
Trees intrigue me with the lessons they yield about following Jesus. The terms “Christ follower” or “Jesus follower” have grown in usage lately, for the good. Why? They require action. Following. Too often, “Christian” refers to what we believe, to the nation we live in. But following goes deeper. On that stroll with John through the redwoods of Cowell State Park near Mount Hermon, we found the Fremont Tree. A sign read that “legend claims that in 1848, Col. John C. Fremont slept here.” Fremont’s “bed” reminded me of what Jesus once said about beds, …”
Read More
Addictions
My first and almost forced ride on a Honda Trail 90, interested me, watching Easy Rider in 1970 entranced me, but riding a Honda 350 Scrambler to Canada hooked me. Since then I’ve ridden about a quarter of a million miles in 46 states and three countries. Call me addicted, and I won’t argue. But to more than…
Read More
Joined
Two separate trees leaned toward each other so long they grew together. Two trunks merging into one. Yeah, you see where we’re heading. The reality of joining lives until…
Read More
Rock Lake, MT, image by Don Otis
When Biking Isn't Enough
A few months ago I did a radio interview with Moody Radio NW on the biker book, God, a Motorcycle, and the Open Road, arranged by Don Otis of Veritas Communications, and received an email from a Montana listener who recommended a gorgeous stretch of asphalt that skirted Bull Lake. Ironically, just the summer before I’d ridden that road with a friend. It did impress us! I mentioned that to Don, and he said he’d hiked in that area to Rock Lake, only accessible by trail. Yep, our bikes would not have taken us there. That got me thinking…
Read More
at Cowell State Park
Blasted!
For decades now, I’ve loved adventure, to push my limits. I even created a line, “If you never push your limits, you’ll never realize your true courage and abilities.” But that flows from my innate timidity—yeah, it comes close to my name. So I decided to face and conquer my fear. At 26, I embarked on a 3 month, 13,000 mile, 31 state motorcycle tour of the US. I rappelled down a 190 ft. Rio Grande bridge tower, on a 120 ft. rope. Just last summer, I did an Iron Butt ride, 1,080 miles in 16 hours on 2 wheels. At 70. Yeah, some of us never learn. Then…
Read More
image from radiumhotsprings.com
When Angels Ride Along
As did nearly all bikes back then, my Honda 350 Scrambler had a chain drive that needed daily maintenance—lubing and tightening the chain. Well, I’d fallen in love with the unity of biker, bike, and the road, and did more riding than maintaining. The bike rode well, even though it was loaded high with a backpack strapped to the sissy bar. Pulling out of Banff on highway 93 in the magnificent Canadian Rockies, heading for Idaho, I took full advantage of the bike. Heading into a long, sweeping turn to the right, I barely noticed the 35 mph sign, doing at least 60. OK, maybe more. But I had a good line, until…
Read More