I would like to tell you a story about a visit to one of the largest churches ever known to the world. Based on the start of this story, you might imagine that I have traveled to some far reaches of the world, possibly to an exotic foreign country, to find this church. You may find it interesting, and possibly astounding, that I was able to find this church only a few miles from my home.
When I speak of a church, of course, I speak of the atmosphere of brotherhood and kinship that is found in the world. This is something that cannot be held in a single room, building, or complex. It is something that can only be felt within you.
I am afraid that some of you may never be able to visit this church, for whatever personal reasons you might have. It has nothing to do with denominations, donations, or reservations. It has to do with limitations. The only requirements to attend this church are to climb onto a two-wheeled motorized essence of separation from the normal.
As I headed North on FM 156 out of
The keychain that I have on the key in the ignition was something that my children made for me long ago. It is braided rope with a series of colored beads on it. It was meant to be used for playing golf, where I could attach it to my belt loop, and pull a bead towards the knot in the end of the rope for each shot that I took. As it happens to be holding this particular key now, I have created a new use for it. At the start of my journey, I move all of the beads up towards the key. As a new member of our silent brotherhood passes me, and we greet each other, I move one bead down towards the knot.
One red.
I keep heading north, and wind through a few small towns along the way. A train is heading south alongside the road. I give him a quick wave, and almost break into a laugh as I try not to make a fist and start a pulling motion from high up in the air. I would have loved him to blow the horn, but something in my adult mind told me to save those for the engineers to share with the kids. The engineer might not think that I was just an adult with a kid in my heart, but some sort of weirdo or jerk. Not the kind of impression that the brotherhood needs.
One white and one blue.
I turn east and head from the sleepy hamlet of Justin towards the next sleepy hamlet of Argyle. A few twisty bends in the road cause me to smile, as the sun beats down on me, warming my body while the road warms my heart.
As I follow the straightened road segments, I see something that makes me do a double take. A black Trans-Am with a red light strobing back and forth in the front of its hood is coming towards me at a high rate of speed. I expect to see the wind rustled mane of David Hasselhoff whisping through the window as it approaches. Only as it gets closer do I realize the lights are red and blue, and a siren is now audible and then fainter and gone as he rounds the turns I have just come through. Lucky cop.
The road levels off on a flat, and as I see the highway underpass on the horizon, I also see something out of place on the right side of the road. The closer and closer I get to it, the more and more it looks like an enormous dog. The mystery is revealed as I verify that it really is an enormous dog. He’s sitting back on his haunches just a few feet off of the road, and must be four feet tall when he is sitting.
My mind starts going through the motorcycle driving handbook, and videos we watched when I was in the training class. Let’s see … don’t swerve, but try to change speeds from slower to faster. If he runs at you, when you speed up you won’t be where he was running to. I prepare myself mentally for this throttle maneuver, watching the approaching face of my canine challenge.
As I slow down, preparing to speed up again in an evasive maneuver, I see that my roadside challenge is displaying his large panting tongue, breathing heavily, and just watching the world go by. As I pass him, I could not verify it, but I do believe that he winked at me.
One more white.
I pass under the freeway, and continue east. We are entering the equestrian area, with many beautiful stables and row upon row of beautiful white fences. The great thing about being outside on a ride like this is the wonderful sensory experience of feelings that your body and mind can take in. However, one of the human experiences that cannot be filtered out during a ride is the sense of smell. I am sure that the byproducts of many a fine equestrian stable are being used to help some dear lady’s rose garden bloom and produce some show quality flowers, much to the dismay of her jealous neighbors. I would much rather smell the final products of the garden than what I am experiencing now.
I turn south and head across towards a farm and market road that is similar to the one I just left. As I come upon a three way stop, I make sure to stop completely, and watch for the reaction of the car that approached the intersection at the same time as I. I look for their facial expression, and where they are observing. Much to my surprise, I see the lady nod, wave hello to me, and continue across the intersection. This must be a considerate sister within the brotherhood, and for her act of kindness, she earns a bead.
One blue.
As I continue my journey heading back towards my home, I cannot help but enjoy the sun, the wind, the sounds all around me. The hum of the motor sitting beneath me. The staccato punctuations of the exhaust as I let off of the throttle.
The closer I get back into the city, the more and more I see the lesser known members of the brotherhood. Some merely drive from home to the Sonic for a shake. Others meet to compare chrome accessories at a local sports bar. Their distance traveled may not be extreme, but their love of the experience is still evident. A wave to each of them, and a bead is moved.
The clouds are starting to move in and crowd the clean sunlight away to other places where people need to get out and ride. I know that my time out finding other members of our brotherhood needs to come to an end.
I turn into my neighborhood and finally up my driveway and into my garage. The motor idles smoothly, and as I turn off the engine I finally hear the quiet of everything surrounding me. I take off my helmet; survey the debris of the few tiny aerial beings that met their demise due to a mere coincidence of two bodies traveling through space and time, and the larger of the two winning the battle of momentum. Some 409 takes care of the situation. I take off my gloves, and place them with my helmet on the workbench. My time of reflection from the visit to our brotherhood begins.
I take the key from the ignition.
As I realize I have moved all ten beads on my keychain, I think to myself that maybe everyone should have a quota of beads to go through each day. A kind word. A pleasing smile. An act of accommodation to someone who may be going through life with way too many beads left unmoved on their keychains.
Fetching myself a cup of coffee, I head out to the back patio for quiet reflection and somewhat somber feelings that my time away has once again come to an end. My wife comes out to sit with me. As I try to tell her my experiences of the day there are not enough adjectives to do justice to what I have just been through. Rows of wildflowers growing right in the middle of the hustle and bustle of highways. Stories of people, cars, and dogs. Friendship shared between total strangers. I cannot do the experience justice. All I can word together is that I wished she could have been there with me. With that, I just hoped that someday she would accompany me, and all these feeling finally would be understood.
