Tail of the Dragon

A couple of weeks ago I took a little motorcycle trip with some friends. My best friend invited me to go with him, his Dad, his Brother, and a few of our other mutual friends and ride the “Tail of the Dragon” in North Carolina. If you Google “Tail of the Dragon” you will find that it is a stretch of US 129 in North Carolina that has 318 curves in 11 miles. Motorcycle and sports car enthusiasts from all over the eastern part of the country pilgrimage to the dragon to prove their skill and get a thrill. Several people die on the “dragon” every year.
I’ve done several of these interstate rides with my friends now, often spending a couple nights on the road. I always get nervous and anxious as the day of departure approaches. It’s dangerous out there on two wheels. The wind, the rain, the fatigue; distracted motorists, gravel, deer, the police…all serious threats to safety and security. And then, in my case, there’s the vintage motorcycle factor. My bike is a 1977 Honda Goldwing. This bike was new when I was a junior in High School! But it’s a very reliable machine. And since I’ve owned it I have rebuilt or replaced almost everything down to the engine block with my own hands, or with the help of my best friend Steve, who I’ve ridden with every time. A couple of weeks before the trip I went over to Steve’s garage one night and we mounted a new front tire on the wheel. It takes a real man to change a motorcycle tire with hand tools, but we've done it before and we make it look easy!
So I spent the next couple of weeks in anticipation of the trip. I took off work a day early so I could pack all my gear. Rain gear, tool kit, spare parts, mess kit, sleeping bag, sleeping mat, food, snacks, toiletries, socks and underwear, warm gloves, do rag, cell phone charger, Bible, notebook, 3 flashlights; everything I need and nothing I don’t need. Strategically packed in the left saddle bag, right saddle bag, tank bag, trunk box, glove box, jacket pocket, strapped to the seat…a place for everything and everything in it’s place.
I had a last minute repair to make. I bought a new part and installed it the morning before we left. Then I checked the oil level, coolant level, battery level, rear drive gear oil, brake fluid and tire pressure. I cleaned the windshield, topped off the gas tank, visited the ATM, checked for my spare keys…
I was ready to go with an hour to spare. So I said goodbye to my family, met my friends and rode off to adventure on the open road! Then it happened. The repair I made that morning didn’t work. As soon as the motor got fully warmed up I lost spark on one cylinder and knew I couldn’t go on to the dragon. So I turned around in Shelbyville and limped back home. I felt like such a loser. I had missed out on a Mission Trip to New Orleans just a couple weeks earlier because my back hurt and I was afraid it would get worse. Now I was missing a pilgrimage to the Tail of the Dragon because I couldn’t keep my bike on the road. I grabbed my shaving kit and personal items off the bike and went indoors to watch TV. My hero, Horacio Cain, wasn’t even on that night to console me. I sat there and felt really sorry for myself and sorry for my family for having to live with such a loser for a husband and father.
A couple hours later Steve called me from Lexington, Kentucky and told me to get on one of our other friends bike and ride down to meet them. It’s not a very big bike, and it’s not my bike. It needed some very minor repairs but it had proven itself to be roadworthy and it was available. Part of me really wanted to go for it. A three-hour solo trip down I-74 to Cincinnati and I-75 south to Lexington. I could be there before the campfire went out! Another part of me wished he had never called. Just leave me alone to sulk and cry. Two things I happen to be very good at. I wavered back and forth on what to do. Why did my beloved Goldwing have to break down on me? Why was my friend challenging me like this? What would I do with myself tomorrow if I didn’t go on the motorcycle trip, just go back to work? But it’s cold and dark out there and I’d be all alone on the Interstate. What would a wise man do? What would a courageous man do? Why don’t I have anybody I can talk to about stuff like this? I don’t want Brenda to see how weak I am, but I don’t want to make a bigger fool of myself, either. So I went to bed. But before I fell asleep I decided that if I could wake up at 3:00 a.m. I would go for it. That would give me enough time to get to Lexington before they broke camp. And with any luck the bike wouldn’t start or couldn’t be fixed and I would have a good excuse to come back home and go back to bed where it’s always warm and comfy.
I awoke the next morning and the clock said 2:58. I got up, drank a cup of coffee, kissed Brenda goodbye, and rode my Goldwing over to the garage where my friends bike was. I used a part off my bike to fix his. It started hard and ran kinda rough, but seemed to be alright. So, while it warmed up I transferred as much of my gear as I could to this smaller bike. I put some air in the back tire, filled up the gas tank and headed down the cold, dark highway to the Interstate and on to meet my friends.
We never made it to the Tail of the Dragon, but that’s another story for another day.
And my motorcycle is still in pieces in the garage, but I think I learned something. What would a wise man do? Place my faith not in my possessions or abilities, but trust in the Lord, my family and my friends. What would a courageous man do? Act wisely and put one foot in front of the other, one step at a time, regardless of the peril that is always at hand.
The Apostle Peter had periods of profound wisdom and episodes of deep folly. He was a bold man, but is perhaps best remembered for one episode of fear. To this day I think Jesus is the only one who ever cut him any slack. In a letter to the Christians of his day he wrote these words:

Wherefore gird up the loins of your mind, be sober, and hope to the end for the grace that is to be brought unto you at the revelation of Jesus Christ. 1 Peter 1:13 KJV

Leaning Harder

I haven’t had much to say lately. Or perhaps more accurately, haven’t made the effort to get in touch with how I’m feeling. The weather has been nice lately and I want to be outdoors. I’ve spent time tuning up my bicycle and riding it. And I’ve spent time wrenching and riding my motorcycle. It’s the motorcycle that takes me away from my journal, my sketchpad and my computer.
When I first bought the motorcycle in June of 2006 I had no idea what I was getting into. My oldest son, Ben, bought a nice little Honda CB450. I really didn’t want him out riding a motorcycle while I was sitting at home, so I bought a little Honda CL350. I thought Ben and I could knock around Indiana a little on the weekends and maybe do an overnighter now and then. There’s much more I could say, but I’ll save it for another time. Long story short: Ben traded up to a Yamaha XS650 hotrod kinda bike and I could never get the 350 to run right so I sold it and used the money to buy a ’77 Goldwing off a neighbors front porch. Several hundred dollars and 30,000 miles later and all I want to do is ride that bike. I’ve been to the Upper Peninsula on it. Been to Niagara Falls and across Ontario to Windsor and Detroit. Been to Knoxville, Tennessee and beyond several times and all over Indiana. I sometimes get up before dawn and ride a couple hours before work.
One thing I know and sometimes loathe about myself is that I am addicted to security. I’ve taken very few risks in 50 years of life. I haven’t missed a bi-weekly paycheck since I was 15 years old. I had a motorcycle once before when I was in my 20s but soon concluded that I was not a “motorcycle kinda guy” so I sold it.
Ben and I took a motorcycle safety course together when he first got his bike and I learned about leaning into curves. When you are going into a curve on a motorcycle they say you should slow down as you enter and accelerate as you come out of the curve. You should never hit the brakes in a curve. If you get scared you lean harder. If you hit the brakes you will probably crash, but if you lean harder and roll on the throttle you’ll probably be fine. That really captures my attention. I’ve never yet come to that moment of truth where I had to instantly forsake panic for risk, but I am increasingly confident that I will.