Riding in January

Ready to ride on a beautiful January day! I can tell you, when I snapped this picture, it was a full 60° warmer than it was when I took this one a bit more than two weeks earlier:

It's still winter. Cold and rainy weather, even a bit of snow, is in the forecast but today, I'm enjoying the sunshine. 

The preceding post was published earlier today (1/29/24). Now for the rest of the story... (Apologies to Paul Harvey)

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Okay... I'm home from work now. It was a beautiful day today. One of those days where it would have been a sin not to ride.

Winter riding is definitely a possibility here in the L-C Valley but one has to be careful. While the streets were covered with ice, the city kept the roads well sanded. When the snow melted, the gravel remained. You may as well ride over ball bearings as loose gravel. Fortunately, the city has been cleaning up most of the gravel from the streets over the past couple days so riding has been fairly safe.

Another post-winter hazard is the rider's skills diminishing. When I got my endorsement, I was taught in my riders' safety course that riding skills are perishable. Well, I experienced that today. It has only been about 5 weeks since my last ride, but I found myself not so sure about a couple situations... I had even forgotten how to engage reverse on my bike. (When riding a Goldwing, reverse is a necessity unless you have a 38" inseam and can leg press a thousand pounds or more.) It didn't take long for my riding skills to deteriorate. They weren't badly deteriorated but it was still noticeable. 

Let us hold resolutely to the hope we profess, for He who promised is faithful. And let us consider how to spur one another on to love and good deeds. Let us not neglect meeting together, as some have made a habit, but let us encourage one another, and all the more as you see the Day approaching. Hebrews 10:23-25 BSB

Of course, I'm going to draw a parallel between this and the Christian walk... Even those of us who have been believers for decades, not getting into the Word, not praying or not being in fellowship with others causes our walk to deteriorate. We don't have the strength we used to when we face trials and temptations. The world tends to drag us down like it did when we weren't as mature.  The secret is to stay in the Word. Keep the prayer channels open. Stay connected to others who will build you up in the faith!

In this way, riding is like the life of faith... Well, almost. There are times when I would be foolish to be out riding around. But in my life of faith, I'd be foolish to take a break from the Word or connecting with others. 

I'll never get tired of finding so many parallels between my riding hobby and my relationship with God!

God bless!

Arnold.

Life in the "Banana Belt"

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow

Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below

-- Clement Clarke Moore, A Visit from St. Nicholas, 1823

Yes, that is -8° Fahrenheit on our front porch this morning.

First blog post in a year and a half!

As my dear readers (all six of them) know, Angela and I live in the Lewiston Clarkston area, affectionately known as the L-C Valley. Clarkston WA is about as far as you can get from Seattle and still be in Washington. Lewiston ID which is across the Snake River from Clarkston, sits on the confluence of the Snake and Clearwater Rivers. At approximately 740 feet above sea level, this confluence is listed as Idaho's lowest elevation. Because of dams on the Snake and Columbia rivers, the port in Lewiston is classified as a seaport. 

Given its low elevation, Lewiston typically enjoys relatively mild winters (as compared with the rest of Idaho), giving rise to the term, "Banana Belt". Indeed, we enjoy mild winters and spring weather arrives for us a month earlier than does in surrounding areas. Local golf courses boast about being open year-round. Riding is possible all months of the year. But don't let the "Banana Belt" moniker fool you: winter still settles in, sometimes with a vengeance. Our state coordinator, who lives in Idaho Falls, was planning a trip up here one February when I told him not to worry about the weather. "We're in the Banana Belt of Idaho!" I said. Two days before he arrived, we got a foot of snow. The following year, the same thing happened. I don't think I will ever live down my Banana Belt comments. 

This winter, we enjoyed an exceptionally mild December. Temperatures climbed well into the 50s on several occasions. I was able to ride my bike many times. In fact I rode until within a week of Christmas. 

Alas, that seems like such a long time ago. As we descend into mid January, temperatures have been hovering around zero all day. In fact, tonight, January 13, 2024, we're heading for a second consecutive night of sub-zero temperatures. Our front door is cold to the touch. We cough whenever we step outside because the air is so cold that when we breathe, it irritates our throats. The battery in our truck just gave up and had to be replaced. My bike is sitting on its pad; covered and hooked up to the battery tender. Hopefully it will start when riding weather returns.

Life in the Banana Belt...🥶

Another Ride to Challis

Sawtooth Mountains from Stanley, Idaho....

I began writing this post soon after I arrived in Challis. Our state rally was more than three weeks ago. I must say this has been the busiest summer in recent memory. I've not made any posts since mid June and here it is, August 23. (Yes, my birthday.) So, I am going to get this up if it's the last thing I do today! Actually, it will likely be because it's almost time for me to head to bed. School starts tomorrow. 

The rally in Challis was a wonderful experience. And I want to share some of that.

First of all, I live across the river from Lewiston ID which is in the northern half of the state. Challis is smack dab in the middle of Idaho. No matter how you ride from northern to central Idaho, it's going to be a long ride. There are two ways you can get there, neither of them is straightforward. Either you ride out to Montana then back into Idaho or you ride almost all the way to Boise in Southern Idaho then north and east. No shortcut. The difference between the two routes is just a bit over 20 miles. That's it. You may recall my adventure to Challis on the Sportster. If not, please look it up. I can assure you riding to Challis on a Goldwing rather than a Sportster makes all the difference in the world. After 400+ miles of riding, I am still coherent. Exhausted but coherent. 

Unlike previous trips to Challis, this time, I took the highway which goes directly into Boise (Hwy 55). I turned off at Banks and took scenic routes through Stanley and into Challis. One of the reasons I have avoided this route in the past is because the road into Boise is always in rough shape with rock slides and constant road construction. Highway 55 did not disappoint. I would guess that construction zones added nearly an hour to my travel time. However, another aspect that did not disappoint was the scenery. Riding into Stanley and catching a view of the Sawtooth mountains more than made up for the construction delays. I highly recommend taking ID 21 into Stanley. Just make sure you time your travel so as not to roll into Stanley during their music festival unless festival crowds primarily from the Boise Metropolitan area are your kind of vibe. 'Nuff said about that. 

The scenery does not let up there either. A ride along ID 75 from Stanley to the junction of US 93 is an absolute treat. Back in the day, central Idaho area was a hotbed of volcanic activity. Today, basalt columns and cliffs are to be found everywhere. Riding along this stretch of highway between will bring you up close and personal with these majestic formations. Again, if you're willing to put up with construction and rough (but passable) roads, the rewards will be great. 

Once in Challis, the rally did not disappoint either. It was a time of encouragement. Spending time with my CMA family is always a treat. Sadly, because of her work schedule and the length of time it takes to get to Challis, Angela is unable to attend the state rally. I'm disappointed by this and so is everyone else. 😔 Nonetheless, God's grace is great and a wonderful time is had by all. Not to worry. Angela plans to retire year after next. I guarantee BOTH of us will be there.

When I left Challis on Sunday, I rode back home the usual way: US 93 to Lolo MT, then US 12 home. The roads along this route are much nicer and the scenery is nice too but this time, I encountered a major wildlife. I was assured the road was still passable. Seeing I had made arrangements (no refund for canceling) to stay overnight about halfway home I was left with little choice. As I rode north out of Salmon, the air got smoky. At one point, I saw the flames on the ridge just across the river from me. I pulled my bandana over my nose and soldiered on. It wasn't long before I got past the fire and the air began to clear. As I rode over the summit of Lost Pass into Montana, it was as though the curtain lifted and suddenly the sky was blue and the air was clean! 😊

I made it to my lodging that afternoon. It was nice to rest before the long trek through the Selway Wilderness, but I was restless that evening because I knew I could have made it home before nightfall. Oh well... Angela was much more at peace knowing I had stopped for the night. 

To Challis... On A Sportster?

My Sportster, loaded up for the trip to Challis.

I own a Harley Davidson XL883 Sportster. It is a fun little bike to ride. It's quick and very nimble.  The 883cc V-Twin is a strong little engine that has ample power to get me where I want to go. The suspension consists of two externally mounted shock absorbers connected between the frame and the swing arm. Little else. I FEEL the road when I ride. I FEEL that famous Harley Davidson rumble. Rugged and free. Not sheltered. Wind in my face. It's everything an adventurous biker looks for in a ride.

Within the organization of CMA, rallys are important events. At a CMA rally, members gather and friendships are forged and strengthened. Rallys are a time of refreshment. Get some wind in your face, have a good time with other bikers, build one another up. 

Each summer I attend the Idaho state rally which has been held in Challis over the past four years. Challis is located in central Idaho near Borah Peak, Idaho's highest point. The route I take to Challis goes east on Hwy 12 to Lolo, MT then south on Hwy 93 back into Idaho. All told, a bit over 400 miles.

The first time I rode to Challis, I did so on my Sportster. Looking forward to the adventure, I was chomping at the bits to ride. The first 200 miles was great. However, as the day wore on, I was beginning to have my fill of feeling the road; the rumble, the rugged and free unsheltered adventure, the wind in my face. 

As anyone who lives in Idaho or Montana can tell you, there are three seasons in the region: Winter, Almost Winter, and Road Work. I was riding smack in the middle of Road Work. Oh the joy of being cut off by a flagger and waiting almost a half hour for the pilot car to return. Baking in the hot sun. Ah... but this was the mountains of Montana. Mercifully, a cloud moved in and gave me some shade. CRACK! BOOM! A lovely little thunderstorm. Oh, look! The pilot car has returned! I can continue on my journey. Surely, this must be the last of the construction delays. 🤣😂 Lather, Rinse, REPEAT.

By the time I reached my destination, about 13 hours after the adventure began, let's just say I wasn't feeling very sociable. Our area rep walked up and greeted me with a huge smile. "Glad you made it!" I muttered something about it being a small world unless you're riding a Sportster. I was finally at a rally to forge friendships, strengthen bonds with fellow CMAers, have a time of refreshment... All I wanted to do was SLEEP.

Testimony: Epilogue

...Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up. If anyone thinks he knows anything, he does not yet know it as he ought to know it. But if anyone loves God, he is known by him. - 1 Corinthians 8:1b-3 CSB

If you died with Christ to the elements of this world, why do you live as if you still belonged to the world? Why do you submit to regulations: “Don’t handle, don’t taste, don’t touch”? All these regulations refer to what is destined to perish by being used up; they are human commands and doctrines. Although these have a reputation for wisdom by promoting self-made religion, false humility, and severe treatment of the body, they are not of any value in curbing self-indulgence. - Colossians 2:20-23 CSB (Emphasis mine)

By the time I got off of active duty, I had been discipled in Fundamentalist circles for the better part of four years. I had a very solid foundation in the Word. I had excellent doctrine. And I knew it. Again, I do not fault those who discipled me because they had what I didn't: A good attitude. It's been said, "Attitude is more important than doctrine." If your attitude is good but your doctrine is off, you can be corrected in an instant. However, a bad attitude can take a lifetime to change, if it ever does. I needed to be deflated. That is why God saw to it that I returned to my beloved home state, California. My plan was to return to Pensacola for my education but my pastor in Virginia felt I would be better served by attending the Master's College in California for the field I was going in.  

I got out of the Navy in October of 1987, applied to The Master's College (now University) and was scheduled to start classes for the spring semester of 1988. I just knew I was well equipped for this next phase was going to ace everything I put my hand to. 🤣😂 At first, I did make a good impression with some of the faculty, but that didn't last long. While I had an outward appearance of maturity, inside I was still worldly. When I was back east, I was only imitating those who around me. The culture in California was very different and things that I thought would impress didn't mount to a hill of beans in my new surroundings. My facade quickly fell and not only did others see the real me, I finally did too. 

I lasted at The Master's College for one semester. Being Master's is a private college, it is EXPENSIVE. One thing I missed the boat on while in the Navy was the GI Bill. I didn't take advantage of it while it was available. But that's ok... God had His own plan for me. You see, The School of Hard Knocks has very low tuition. It turns out that I spent as much time in The School of Hard Knocks as I would have at Master's. 

By God's grace, my time in The School of Hard Knocks was time well spent. I didn't dawdle in the "wilderness". I was actively growing and maturing as a believer. I joined the Naval Reserve and did very well there. I was involved with my church and was discipled by a number of people, some of whom I am still in contact with. Again, God's sovereign hand was there leading me.

Writing my testimony for this blog has been quite the journey. In recounting my experiences and looking for God's hand in all I have been through, I've made several discoveries I hadn't realized before. It's been good to recount and sometimes it was painful to relive events from my past. I pray for you, dear reader, that you've found something in my story you can identify with and in so doing taste a little bit of His grace.

This story leaves off about 30 years ago but I can assure you my testimony is still being written. I will leave you with a passage I have adopted as my life verse(s):

My goal is to know him and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of his sufferings, being conformed to his death, assuming that I will somehow reach the resurrection from among the dead. Not that I have already reached the goal or am already perfect, but I make every effort to take hold of it because I also have been taken hold of by Christ Jesus. Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and reaching forward to what is ahead, I pursue as my goal the prize promised by God’s heavenly call in Christ Jesus. - Philippians 3:10-14 CSB

Blessings.

Testimony, Part 10 - Anchors Aweigh

F-14 Tomcat from VF-11 poised on the catapult ready for takeoff aboard the USS Forrestal, CV-59. Late 1980s.

Anchors Aweigh, my boys, Anchors Aweigh!

Farewell to foreign Shores, we sail at break of day-ay-ay-ay;

Through our last night ashore, drink to the foam,

Until we meet once more, here's wishing you a happy voyage home!

I don’t say this out of need, for I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I find myself. I know how to make do with little, and I know how to make do with a lot. In any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of being content—whether well fed or hungry, whether in abundance or in need. - Philippians 4:11-12 CSB (Emphasis, mine.)

I fully dedicated my life to God's purposes soon after joining the Navy and was discipled by a number of believers from various churches during my time in the service. However, I would be remiss if I didn't mention those in the Navy who were used by God to bring me up in maturity as well. Yet, most of those people were not believers.

As I've said a few times, when I joined the Navy, I lacked initiative. I was content to do only the bare minimum and was always looking for ways to cut corners or see what I could get away with. Of course, this attitude put me at odds with many of my superiors. One of the first ones I encountered was a grouchy Senior Chief at my A School. I showed little to no work ethic and after a bit too much daydreaming and general lack of military bearing, I was standing in front of him again. Despite promises of being written up, I was expecting just another chewing out for such a minor offense. Instead, that Senior Chief wordlessly delivered on his promise. I knew a report chit could derail my time at Millington. This was just one of those close calls I alluded to earlier. To this day, I doubt that Senior Chief cared what happened to me. All he was concerned about was he had another snot nosed kid with a punk attitude in front of him. He was either going to wade into me and pull out some kinks or he was going to drum me out of the service. Fortunately, this report chit did not go far but it was enough to shake my world. Needless to say, I did whatever I had to to avoid standing in front of him again.

Once in Pensacola, I rubbed up against some shipmates who were not exactly godly folks but they helped knock some rough edges off my personality.  After about a year there, I decided maybe I should show some initiative and learn different jobs and even volunteer for other duties in addition to my normal assignments. Upon doing so, my evaluations immediately began showing drastic improvement. Toward the end of my time in Pensacola, A division officer (who happened to be a believer) pulled me aside and said he had noticed my change of attitude over the past several months and that it was glorifying to the Lord. He told me to keep it up as it would serve me well. 

In late 1985, it was time to change duty stations. By this time I wanted to be assigned to a fighter squadron and go out on deployment. I ended up with VF-11, an F-14 squadron based out of NAS Oceana in Virginia Beach. We deployed with the airwing aboard the USS Forrestal in 1986. Even with my new found work ethic, life aboard ship was an adjustment. While underway, shifts were 12 hours on, 12 hours off, seven days a week. Seriously, what else is there to do on a ship? Ok... I got used to the work routine fast enough but one thing was missing: Christian fellowship. In particular, Christians who thought like I did. While there were a few, they worked in different shops, different divisions, different hours. There was a fellow believer in my shop but he was "different". While I tried to put aside our differences, I was too caught up in making sure my "I's" were dotted and my "T's" were crossed correctly. This gave way to some contentious bickering between the two of us. Oh, how I longed to always be in fellowship with like-minded believers. Every time the ship was in port, I was always seeking out servicemen's centers like the ones in Pensacola or Norfolk. I did find good centers in Jacksonville FL and Naples Italy but more often than not, I had to make do with what I had.

Then there was the shop I spent the majority of my time in. While I did spend time on the flight deck during flight ops, I demonstrated my aptitude in being able to work on gear after it was pulled from the aircraft, so that is where I ended up. That was all well and good but my shop supervisor was a grumpy first class petty officer we called "Charlie". Think "Chah-lie" with a New York accent. Charlie was a former Marine who was injured in Vietnam and was processed out of the Marines because of his injuries. He later found the Navy would take him, so he reluctantly joined in order to finish out his 20 years. He was not happy to be where he was and everyone around him was made aware of that fact. However, he was by the book. He knew how to run a shop. The Navy doesn't care if a supervisor is a people person; if someone is otherwise capable, they will be put in charge. As you can imagine, me with my personality, and Charlie with his, we clashed. A LOT. Oh the blowouts we had... several times, Charlie could have, SHOULD have written me up for policy violations or outright insubordination. Yet, he never did. Charlie also had his little catch phrases: "Yo! Shipwreck!" and "Child, please..." It drove me nuts! Now I look back on it and, really, it was hilarious. I loathed him at the time but now I can point to him as one of the better supervisors I've had. Certainly, not because he was easy to work with.  I had some rough edges that needed to be knocked off and Charlie was just the person to do it. I don't think Charlie cared whether I lived or died other than to make sure I was on hand to accomplish my assignments. I can't say what Charlie's heart was really like but I can say he was God's man for the job in my life at the time. I've come to realize God is not constrained to using mature believers with gentle spirits to influence His children.

If I had to summarize this period of my life, I would say I needed to learn the secret of contentment. Was my life aboard ship as bad as I thought it was? Not nearly. Whether working for a grouchy supervisor or fellowshiping with believers who didn't think the way I did, a little personal contentment would have added much joy to my life. I had a GREAT time on deployment. In my seemingly menial tasks at my test bench, I played a vital role in the success of the entire airwing. I also got to see part of Europe! Who can honestly say they've stood atop of the Leaning Tower and overlooked Pisa? I can.

So far, my testimony has taken ten chapters to recount only the first 22 years of my life. However, these were formative years and the lessons learned have shaped me into what I am today. I believe I will make just one more entry in my Testimony series as it covers a very foundational lesson and continues to illustrate God's sovereign and guiding hand in my life.

Until next time, Blessings.

Testimony, Part 9 - Florida

The sugar white sands of Pensacola Beach.

My time at NATTC, Memphis having come to a close, I was eager to get on with my new job in the fleet. While I was disappointed that I was being sent to the opposite coast from what I wanted, I was, nonetheless, relishing the adventure that lay before me. I said good bye to my friends from the church and boarded my plane with every intention of looking up a church which had been recommend to me once I arrived in Pensacola.

I arrived in Pensacola in October 1983. As soon as I arrived, a feeling of extreme loneliness and isolation settled in on me. I knew nobody and I didn't know my way around town. I had arranged to call my aunt collect as soon as I got to the base and she'd refuse the call. That way, she would know I arrived safely but no one had to pay long distance charges. As her phone rang, I hoped she'd accept the charges anyway. She didn't. Silence. As I unpacked my suitcase, I noticed the clothes that had been laundered the previous day were still warm from the dryer. I felt pretty low at that point. 

Fortunately, I didn't have much time to wallow in self pity. The next day I began the process checking into my new duty station. I soon learned how to make my way around base but getting out in town was another matter. I still did not have a driver's license, so if I wanted to go to town, my only options were a transit bus with a limited schedule or take a taxi, which was a spendy proposition.

I called the church I had heard about and was told that there were people on base I could look up if I needed a ride but they had no other information. Okay... What now? I had become friends with barracks mates who had cars but they had no interest in church activities. Was I to wake them up on Sunday and ask them to take me to church? Church became out of reach. I hung out on base with my barracks mates but I wasn't interested in riding with them to very many places as they were often wont to hit the bars then drive back to base, sometimes heavily intoxicated.

During one of my ventures into town, I had noticed there was a servicemen's center about a mile north of the main gate. I decided I ought to check it out. It took a few weeks but I eventually made it by there. I walked into the center and met Mr. Varney. A fellow sailor was there relating to him how he had heard the sermon the previous Sunday at church and he realized he needed to get saved. I thought, "If nothing else, the gospel is shared there." The center was comprised of a nice quiet lobby with a couple of sofas, an adjacent book room and a ping pong table. It wasn't long before Mr. Varney was challenging me to a game of ping pong. Since I fancied myself a respectable ping pong player, I accepted. The other sailor broke out into a wide grin. I soon found out why: Mr. Varney quickly shellacked me. Apparently, being shellacked by Mr. Varney at ping pong was a form of initiation at this center. 

As that first evening went on, we were sitting on the sofas visiting when suddenly we had bibles in our laps and Mr. Varney sitting down and saying, "Open your bibles to..." A regular occurrence at this center was anytime there was more than one person there around 7pm bibles came out and a bible study happened. Mr. Varney also ran a van to NAS and to the other base across town on Sundays to pick up sailors wanting go go to church. After several weeks of being out of fellowship, I knew I was finally back. It was to be through this servicemen's center and the one in Norfolk, VA that was part of the same organization, where I would be discipled for much of the next four years.

I need to talk about the organization that these centers were part of and the churches associated with them. The centers and the churches I attended were associated with the Fundamentalist Movement. Long story short, according to Fundamentalists, Southern Baptists are a bunch of liberals. From 1984 through 1987, I was discipled in Independent Fundamentalist churches. It is ironic to think how I went from being anti-church to identifying with those "fanatics" I used to loath, but God has always led me where He wanted me. I know a lot of people, especially those in more "evangelical" circles who like to look down on fundamentalists as leagalists. But I've known a good many people from fundamentalist churches who are the real deal. They love the Lord with all their hearts and show grace wherever they go. In that, fundamentalists are no different than any other sect. All churches/movements are administered by fallible humans; there will be good and bad examples anywhere you go. I am grateful to God for allowing me to be discipled where I was. Because I was discipled in fundamentalist circles, I had a FIRM foundation in the Faith that I would not be easily moved from. I also learned an appreciation for a genre of music and worship I never would have otherwise.

That said, I also came away with a rather swollen head. Now, I do not fault those who discipled me for this; responsibility for harboring any pride lies squarely on ME. I will expound on this in a future post.

In my testimony, I've been recounting how God has used believers to touch and guide me. However, God has used plenty of non-believers to shape me as well. In my next post, I'll mention some of those.