One Crap Out and One Crash and Two Bikes Down
I thought my first long ride from SoCal to Canada in 1970 would be a one-off. Just one-day rides after. Then came mission trips to Taos in 1973 and 74, and wild hairs of an idea sent me east to see family, then in ‘74, I took off to see America. A very troubled America during Watergate and Vietnam., covering 31 states and 13,000 miles. Various trips took it to 47, almost reachable, needing just Florida, Georgia, and South Carolina. Jerry suggested a trip to the southeast to get those, and it grew to a route to get 48 for him.
In 2022, we headed off on an 8,000 mile ride for two old guys in their mid-70s. Audacious! About 3,000 miles in, some issues arose. Some friction with my long-time best friend (mostly me), some miscommunication, some close calls, and I began to get a vague sense of unease. Was that a whisper from God, or doubt from Satan?
We spent a night in Fairfield, Connecticut, confident of finishing. The next morning I led onto the I-95 onramp, then noticed Jerry wasn’t behind me, so I stopped and called. His Can Am had died on him, and wouldn’t restart. To get back to him, I had to go north to Bridgeport, go under the interstate, then south to get well below him. Following the signs to I-95 south, I came to a dead end, turned right, came to a stop sign, stopped, looked, and moved into the intersection, only to have a passenger van appear out of nowhere, and I struck him.
My yellow Wing bled green coolant and black oil; the forks got twisted terribly. I merely had a scrape on my elbow.
And so the audacious ride ended, one bike crapped out, one totaled. Jerry, unable to trust his, sold it the next day to a bike shop, took the train to his daughter in Maryland and flew home. I rented a car and drove home, stopping to see my sis in Kentucky.
But was God behind it? Did we ignore his earlier hints in our ambition to achieve the states? Only he knows, but I wonder.
Kick Starting the Application
That’s not all of the story. Jerry hoped, and I fully agreed, to try again the next year. On his first day, he felt leg pain when he woke up, rode some but couldn’t continue. He headed home, felt better in a day, so we ended up doing some day rides in Oregon. But I wonder. It truly seems like God, for some reason which we have no clue about, didn’t want us to finish this adventure.
Never before or after have I felt such unease on a trip. Never before have two consecutive rides been wiped out. That’s why this passage came to mind.
“Paul and his companions…(had) been kept by the Holy Spirit from preaching the word in…Asia. When they came to the border of Mysia, they tried to enter…, but the Spirit of Jesus would not allow them to….During the night Paul had a vision of a man of Macedonia standing and begging him, ‘Come over to Macedonia and help us’” (Acts 16:6-10).
God does warn, guide and direct his people. So what might have been his purpose in ending the trip, if in fact he did? Some guesses. Continuing could have brought a worse accident. Or, it could have been that he had another purpose for us, like he did with Paul in Acts. It could be that he wanted us, and now you, to be sensitive to the hints of the Spirit. I do believe he ended that quest. Now, I try to listen more carefully.
Have you heard the soft whisper of God? How did you respond? How can you listen more attentively?