eople are like
molten lava
spewed up from the earth
there being no consistency
it is here where friendship gives birth!
Pressures so great
that we begin to bond together
until our composure changes its state
forming diamonds that last forever
THE ADVENTURES OF JALON G. HAWK
It
is the first Friday of August and I wake by the cracking of thunder. Lightning
creating shadows within my bedroom, I roll over to look out my window to get a
glimpsed of the morning sun, which is amber red trying to force its way through
the threatening clouds. “ Kieee-kiee” is the sound that I hear coming from the
dead Maple in the back yard.
“Kiee-kieee”. I quickly get over
to the edge of my bed when, looking out at the tree, I see a huge old Hawk
sitting in the top looking straight at me!
Making one more “kiee”, the bird takes off while at the same time
another lightning bolt dashes across the sky, blinding me for the next
moment.
Getting up, I begin thinking about this
morning’s events. Birds have always been
bearers of messages for me in the past, along with that red sun, what does it
mean? “Red in the morning, Sailors take
warning” is that o’ll saying. May be
I’m reading into this too much but then there was that premonition again!
Calling my
faithful companion Buck, a five year old Norwegian Elk Hound, we started our
usual two mile walk to the bike shop.
At the end of the drive way there is a playing card with the top side
facing up. Picking it up and flipping
it over I notice it shows a picture of a 'star trek'-like ship. In the upper left hand corner the
inscriptions “LIGHT CRUISER” and a name at the bottom saying “CHIMERA
CLASS”. I just stuck it in my pocket
while Buck and I continued on our walk.
I’m lucky I suppose because I really don’t have to depend on a car to
get to work. In fact, I have a paved
bike route that Buck and I go down almost every day that is an old rail
conversion.
The Shoppe is something that I have been
working since 1981. Service in this town seemed to be lacking quality, and
after hanging out at the area bicycle shops I knew there was room for another
one. After time has gone by, my loyal
customers would not go anywhere else. Up grades are inevitable so I picked up
some high end frame builder’s work. Now
I know there isn’t much money in frame building. It usually attracts a
different type of character to give up some of the things that others think are
not essential to life, so it doesn't surprise me when the builders that I am
using either go bankrupt or sell their business. Sure would be nice to have someone that I can rely on and who’s
got a good product while understanding ethical business practices.
Buck and I are getting close to the
Shoppe when I notice some one-or something- sitting in front. Upon getting closer it begins to look more
like some kind of animal. A leopard?! Wondered if the zoo lost something last
night? Then she stands up. Wow! Some
woman in a leopard skin suit is looking in my front window.
“Good
morning!” I say to her as I walk by.
“You
the owner?” she asks, drawing my attention away from opening the door. Giving a nod, I give some comment on how I
do my best that I can. By now I notice
Buck is pulling on the leash wanting to go into the bicycle Shoppe.
“How
long ya been around?”
“Since
1958”.
“
Good year for the Thunder Bird!” She exclaims. Then correcting herself, “ No, I
mean the bike shop, and what brands do you carry?” Opening the door, Buck is unusually quick to get inside. I let go
of the leash and grab ST. Francis-a ceramic door stop-to prop open the
door.
“Opened
my doors in 1986. The brands that I use
to carry either sold their company out, or went bankrupt in the last five
years. I’m presently looking for a
builder, but I cannot find anyone who fits the bill. Just wish one could just wander in the door!”
“Sometimes
you should not ask for something, you just might get what you ask for.” she
says as she draws me in to look deeply into her eyes.
This
is when I notice that my legs are about to give out, sweat is forming on my
fore brow and I begin to get a lump in my... throat. All my energy is running out of me when I force myself to look at
her... machine. Before me is a bicycle
I have never laid eyes on. The frame
looks like stainless steel because it is unpainted with the fillets
exposed. The components are mostly
American made indicating that the whole rig is put together by someone who
knows what they are doing. Stainless
steel has never been successfully used as a frame material, so trying to not
look at her I ask “Wow, where'd ya get the rig?”
“Won
it on a bet!” she comments with an uneasiness.
I can tell something is bothering her.
It is hard to hear her over the noise that the crows are making that is
starting to gather on the roof peak across the street. “Got to fly!” and without a further notice
she is off on her ride.
Feeling a little weak, I walk into the
Shoppe. Aiming for the chair I sit down
and try to gain some composure and I feel something in my pocket. Reaching in I remember that card that I
found at the end of my driveway. I got
the chills and begin thinking about that red sun this morning. “Chimera Class” it reads. Getting up and going over to my bookshelf, I
find the dictionary and look up the word Chimera. It says that it comes from a Greek myth. “1. Fire- breathing
monster with the head of a lion, body of a goat, and the tail of a serpent.2.An
impossible or foolish fancy. [<Gk. khimaira,
chimera. “she goat” ]”. Well, I’ll go
along with the “foolish fantasy” part.
How I can become so infatuated so fast with someone is beyond me.
Trying to shrug this whole thing off, I
start on a tune up that came in when a big off-white ‘60 vintage Ford
Thunderbird with some old cruisers on a roof rack pulls up in front of the Shoppe.
Out steps a dude in some rustler’s outfit. I get all kinds on the East Side of this town so I'm not too
surprised to see this Joker. Stepping
into my place did surprise me though, and keeping my back to him while
overhauling a wheel bearing I say “Good afternoon!”
“Howdy
partner!” he exclaims with quite a bit of rashness. I noticed those crows
starting to gather on the roof across the street again as we both look out the
window.
“Been
doing that all day, gathering there on that roof. Must be an Owl in the area” I comment. He just gives me a strange look and steps out front, raising his
arms in the air and gives an impressive long caw followed by two short ones
when the crows made together sounds of retaliation and then fly off. I didn’t say anything and he acts as if it
is common practice.
“Heard
around that you might be in need of a frame builder.” he said. I start to think about the woman who was in
earlier and her comment about not asking for something.
“And
you might think that you are one?” He
doesn't say anything, just starts to look around the Shoppe. I begin to get a little uneasy about the
whole situation when Buck shot up and heads around the parts counter, putting
his ‘happy’ face up front and center of our new guest.
“Yep,
a rare breed I think.” He bends over to pet the dog. “I think I saw the liking of a picture of one of these in a dog
book. Next to it was a caption saying
something like ‘Spoiled rotten lazy bag of bones’.”
“Norwegian
Elk Hound.” I commented. I feel better now that Buck takes a liking
to the stranger. He has a better sense of knowing people than I do.
Standing up, the stranger starts commenting on the
frames hanging in the Shoppe. “A lot
of past loves hang's from the ceiling in here.
Klein Team Super, one of the best aluminum frames ever made, having that
Boron reinforcement on the stays and fork.
An American Bicycle Manufacture road frame, very nimble for an aluminum
frame as well as one of the most beautiful ever made. Too many welders in this industry and not enough frame builders I
always say! I see one of Chris Chance’s
great pieces over there, a Tenth Anniversary I think.” Putting down my work I walk over to the
counter to talk.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” I say bluntly. “He is going to expect it every time you come in now.” I get to
thinking that this individual might know more than what his get up may lead one
to think.
“Looks like that Raleigh International over there is
your present ride?” He couldn’t have
pegged things better even if I told him.
“Well, a good part of one’s enjoyment with anything is
how you feel about it. Kind of hard to
go out with someone when ya get burned, feel the same about my bikes. Promises are cheep. I’ve heard them all, ‘Life time guarantee’,
‘ Exclusive dealership area’, doesn’t mean much when the company’s go bankrupt
or sell out.” I said.
I hit a soft spot.
There was a long quiet moment when he said “So you like the feel of
steel, eh?”
“As you noticed, I’ve ridden them all, some that aren't
even here, and they all to try to get a ‘feel’ of a good quality of steel, so
why not just ride one? Reynolds 531 has
won more Tour De Frances than all the rest of materials combined. I think the old ‘70 vintage European road
bikes are highly under rated, and right now that o’ll Raleigh is reliable. With
the Campagnolo Record components on it and rides great!”
Well, that
did it. He stood back and just looked
at me, gave a sigh and said “So steel is real ya say?”
“You’re darn toot’n!” I snapped back. He walks out to his T-Bird and comes back in
with what looks like a frame tube.
“What do ya make of it Partner?” he asked.
“Looks like a frame tube.” I say with a smile. I know that he is on to something.
“Ever had Carob ice cream?”
“ Sure, kind of like chocolate, but some how a little
different I suppose. What does that
have to do with anything?” By now I
knew I had been roped into something.
He stands back from the counter.
“What kind of tubing do you think this is?”
"I gather
its cro-molly by its look and light weight.”
“What would you think of a steel that has a yield
strength that is 50% greater than your finest titanium frames. It also has a
50% greater density creating a 50% greater modules of elasticity than 6Al
titanium at only a 2oz difference in an over all tube set weight while
providing corrosion resistance and a over all ride characteristic that you have
never experienced!”
“Believe in half of what you see and none of what you
hear!” I say to him kind of matter of fact .
I wasn’t going to give him an inch with his hard pressed story about
some ‘miracle’ tubing.
“So, a retro-grouch!
Hmmm. Tell ya what. I’ll build ya the finest steed ya have ever
ridden, no cost to you. If its not the greatest ride ya ever been on,
you keep the steed and I move on. If it
is everything I’ve promised, then you still own the beauty and I get a chance
to build frames out of your shop to try to fill that void of building dream machines for your
customers! What do ya say Partner? What have you got to loose?”
Things are a
little too quiet. He is looking me
right in the eye and I can see the desperation there. It seems like he really did not need to build frames at my
shoppe. If he is as good as he says
then why here? I could only guess that
it might be that it has something to do more with get’n in with me and maybe
there will be someone who can appreciate his craftsman ship. Also that maybe he has heard something about
my shoppe an its history for put’n out high quality machines and together we
can fill that void..... Hey wait a minute here. What did that gal say earlier
today about asking for something? Some
how this is just too coincidental yet I have to go with the flow.
“So where do we start?” I ask.
“Well, from look’n at that 56cm. Raleigh I’d say that
you have a 32inch inseam, but look’n at you I’d reckon you’re only 5ft.
8in. Must be short in the torso by
about two inches. On top of that your
stem length is somewhere around 110mm on a 56.5cm top tube and those TTT bars
reach out front pretty far with those brake levers so my guess that your arms
are about an inch or so longer than normal.
That short stem could cause some under steer. I also notice that your brooks saddle is back on the rails all
the way. Do you have some knee
problems, or just like shallow seat tube angles?”
“Maybe a little of both.” I reply to him. “Got to stay
seated on the saddle for hill climbing so I don’t bruise my knees.”
“Can I come over and look at the bike?” he asked.
“Sure thing.” I say to him.
“By the looks of things here,” referring to the saddle,
“I’d say that either you have one leg longer than the other or a double jointed
hip.”
“Boy, I've never noticed that before. I've got over 50
thousand miles on the saddle and I guess it shows, doesn’t it?” He is pointing out the folds in the leather
where my pelvic sits and one side was lower than the other. “Come to think of it, I do some times pop my
hip when I stretch. Seems like I have a
better ride when I do to. Like my knees don’t hurt as much.”
This guy was as sharp as the eyes of a hawk
at a thousand feet and before I can comment on his wit he moved right along
with more questions about fit, leaving me to believe that he’s done this
before.
“ Ever use aro bars?”
“Profiles, Scott, T-Gear, Mavic, just to name a few.
There is always a compromise between stem length and whether I use a system or
a clip on bar set up. I never have
reached that ‘balance’ point.”
Just
then the phone rang. I go over to answer it and it is Pat asking what is the
latest in suspension forks. “It is a good friend and customer,” I say to the
guest in my shoppe, “ asking some questions and I’ll just be a minute. Feel
free to do what you need to.”
I
look out the window and noticed those crows gathering on the roof across the
street again and get to think that they might have something to do with this
individual in my shop. He is measuring the width of the bars and then started
heading for the door. “See ya in about a month Partner!” he exclaimed.
“Pat,
can I call ya right back, I’ve got some Joker in the shoppe?” I asked .
“Sure
thing!” Pat said. Hanging up I noticed
one of the crows swooping down towards the Rustler. He didn’t even flinch and before I could even find out just what
this, well, individual’s name is he's off in that T-Bird cruising down the
road.
I call Pat right back and start to tell
him the events of the day as best as I could recall at the moment. “I don’t know Pat, the whole thing seems
strange. What do you think of it?”
“I
guess you’ll have to wait a month to see if this Joker is real and in the mean
time, see what you can find out about that Metax tubing.” Pat suggests. We
talk about the latest fork designs and then Pat adds “Maybe grace is working
with you on this frame building thing.
I know that I’m still riding today only because of the machines you sold
me in the past, it is too bad that your past frame builders couldn’t hold out
in such a difficult market. Something
is to be lost in the new age “cookie cutter” bikes. This guy may be able to
come up with something that really is different. Small builders can be a lot more flexible in their work in using
new materials over large companies because creativity isn’t controlled to mass
production. Stainless steel is harder
to work with and this character could be just the one to be able to work with
it”
The day ended in the shoppe pretty
normal. I finish off a couple wheels that I am building for someone and ask
Buck if he wants to go for a walk. His ears jump up and as usual all the antics
start in. Barking and getting under my feet while I bring in the bikes from out
side. Buck is about as good as a dog and companion can get. “What do you think
of the gal that was in here today? Something about her you didn’t like? Then
how about that character in that western outfit? What do you make of him?” I
don’t know what to think either. Maybe it was just a dream... Any how, I’ve got
some time to ask around about this guy and gal. Someone must know something
about them.
Stepping out the door I look one more
time across the street to see if those crows are around. Nope. Locking the
door, Buck and I start the walk home and I hope that I can just clear my head.
Stainless steel, what would it ride like?
Share with me the joys of your
past
Share with me your sorrow
Share with me the joys of today
And let's make the memories for
tomorrow
When my spirit shows up to see
you at work
To bump you off your chair
Jalon is there just to play and
flirt
And take you off to life's big
fair
So share with me the loves of
your past
Share with me their sorrow
Share with me a love that will
last
All the way into tomorrow
Chapter 2
I
spent some time asking around about that ‘Metax’ tubing and everything thing
that my guest had claimed rang true, making his return even more exciting. No
one knows anything about this desperado though. The gal in the skin suit I was
more successful with. She has made herself known down in southern
Wisconsin’s Kettles by becoming ‘THE’
one to beat. Everyone’s story is different except for the fact that no one can
stay up with her long enough to find out who she is. They say that she is
riding before sunrise and no one can see her leave and figures that she parks
along side the road somewhere and leaves after dark. Description of her varies
from person to person but one thing remains consistent-she rides a stainless
frame with a lot of American made components on it.
I figure that the backyard needs to be
mowed before Buck and I head for the Shoppe. That’s when I notice those crows
gathering in the trees after the one in the pine makes a scream that sends
chills down my spine. I get to think about the day that all this mystery
started. “Let’s get down to the Shoppe Buck! I get a felling we might have
company today!” Dropping the handle to the push mower, I grab Buck’s leash and
we head out as if adventure was made for this day.
Like before, I see someone standing in
front of the Shoppe. Straining, I see also the Thunderbird and Buck and I start
increasing our pace. Trying to not seem over excited, or out of breath, I give
our new friend a big “Howdy partner!”
“I
share your excitement, Laurence, and how’s o’ll Buck doing here?” he says while
bending down to give him a big hug.
"Grab
his leash while I open the Shoppe.” I opened the door and put the bike rack out
after I set St. Francis next to the door and Buck runs by me.
“I’ll
let you have your dog and I’ll get the ‘Joker’.” said the stranger. I clear the
stand and he comes in with a frame unlike anything I’d ever seen. He hands it
over to me. “Don’t be so excited! I need some grits, and I reckon I saw a south
western deli down the road. Think I’ll get my fill why'd you two get
aquatinted!” He is gone walking down the road before I can say anything. I look
out the window and noticed those crows following him on the roof tops as he
went along. Strange character, I thought. Anyway, I just grab the frame and
bolt down to the post office that is just around the corner to get the thing
weighed. “Say Jim, can you weigh thing for me? Got a special one here!”
“Sure
thing Mr. Gust! Three pounds, fifteen ounces.” the postmaster exclaimed.
“Under
four pounds!” I state and run out the door.
Back in the Shoppe I put the frame in the
stand thinking that there is going to be some over time this week if I am going
to get everything done that I have scheduled. Standing there looking at this
beauty left me breathless. The fillets flow from one tube to the next. Jewelry
works like I have never seen. I have a 700c rear wheel sitting next to the
bench and slapped it in. Nope, that won’t do. Must be a 650c and I don’t have
any. Maybe a 19mm mountain bike wheel would fit. Looking over to the wheel rack
I spotted one and it slips in.. Fits like a glove. I really hadn’t though of a
component package yet, but I do have some Campy Record parts left over from my
Slim Chance! Digging around I find brakes and derailleurs. I drop them into the
ultrasonic cleaners and quickly put on a couple coats of wax. Hmm. Bars ...
What am I going to do about bars? I do have a Campy Record head set somewhere
in my spare parts drawer. While I am installing the crown race I notice once
again the crows gathering on the roof peak on the bakery across the street.
Just then the master builder walks in, holding a warn out Bible in his left
hand.
“You
two get’n to know each other yet?” he asked. I had to stop and look him in the
eye.
“You
know, I asked all around town about you this last month and no one could tell
me that they knew of you. What I don’t understand is that you have the ability
to create beauty like this and yet remain unknown. May I ask, just what is your
name and what is your story?!”
Long pause... He walks around the counter and
then around me, never taking his eyes off me like a dog facing a cat. “I am an
Outlaw,” he starts saying, “I was born
an Outlaw’s Son. The single track is my legacy but it’s the road where I like
to ride! In one hand I have a Bible, a torch sports the other side. Don’t you
know me boy?! I’m the man they want!”
Well,
I just stand back and look at him and wonder if things aren't getting a bit
deep. He gives me a stern look and then a smile appears on his face. That’s
when Buck gets up and walks over to him and sits next to his leg, looking up at
him with those brown eyes , with a hope that he can sucker him into a pat on
the head.
“Some,
they call me Larry, and some call me Cain. Some call me a sinner boy and some
call me a saint. Some, they just come looking for me and if the find what it is
that they have sought, then they call me by what the Spirits do, that be, Jalon
Hawk!”
Well,
if I am learning something about Jalon, that would be to think about what I am
going to ask him before I do it. However, as if he was enjoying the
interrogation I just had to plug a little more. "Quantify 'Outlaw' if you
please." He smiles and follows through.
"I
am sure you will understand being a tourist as I can see of this picture on the
wall." He is referring to the picture taken of me just before I went on my
twelve week bicycle trip a few years past.. "Then you will know that a
life on the road is the life of an Outlaw Man. You see, I'm young and strong as
I can be. I know what freedom means to me. And as I watch the rising sun, I
know my life has just begun! I spend my life upon the road, just to add to what
I know. Some day I may settle down, and all my friends will be around."
Just
then the phone rings. Walking over I see Jalon head for the T-bird.
"Hello
, Tail Wind Shoppe!" I exclaim. "Yes Janice, next week will be just
fine, thanks for calling."
"Going
to get off easy on schedule tasks this week, eh boy?" Jalon states after
bringing in what looks like a custom handle bar set up, may be for the...
'Joker'.
"Hey,
what did ya name this frame Joker for?" I ask him as he puts the bars on
the counter.
"I
didn't name it-you did! Don't you remember what the last thing you said when I
last left your Shoppe about a month ago? You said to your friend Pat something
about a 'Joker' being in your Shoppe! Could not be a more fitting name for a
Desperado. The Joker is a playing card that can represent anything. Sort of
like a shape shifter that I know."
Felt
that I should leave that one alone for now. "That was the owner of this
bicycle that was in the stand. I'm always glad when they call. Got to run a
tight ship in a space of only 360 sq. feet. Kind of like a doctor's office I
guess. I try to do everything by appointment so that I can keep my over head
low and still give top quality service with individual attention. It has worked
for fifteen years, and it may very well be the means to my success."
"I
have heard a lot about you and how things worked around here. That is one
reason that I decided to stop in here. Another reason is to watch you turn a
wrench! Here are some" Jalon says as he picks up the bar that is sitting
on the counter, "bars that I had made to help you get properly positioned
on this machine. With a 54cm. top tube, 16 and 1/8th inch
chainstays, and a 120mm stem with a rise of 10deg. over 42cm offset on the fork
should get you the neutral steering that I am looking for with your body
geometry. She may have a little over steer when you sit perched upon the saddle
and hang off the extension bars. I made them that way to stretch you out with
those long arms of yours. However, when you kick back on the saddle on a down
hill, I think you are going to have the ride of your life!"
These
things feel light compared to the set up that I had on my Slim Chance. The TTT
'Moscow' time trial bars with the adjustable Mavic aro clip-on bars I thought
were a pretty good bar combination, but these hand made bars felt light and
looked great! "What are they made out of?" I ask walking over to the
stand and placing them in the steer of the fork.
"True Temper RCX2 road one inch top tube as the cross bar and
end bars. The stem is part of a RCX2 down tube to allow the cross tube to slap
through it and make a solid solder joint while providing the extra stiffness
and strength to support the extra weight of the rider. I tend to over build
rather than push the weight limits like other builders. Not that this is a
stout unit like I saw in one of your pictures of your last ride. In fact I
think that you will find it about 3/4 of a pound lighter than your last set
up.!"
Jalon pulls up the chair that I made out
of a front seat of a 77 Lincoln Mark IV that a buddy gave me. "Hey! This
thing is pretty comfy!"
"Just
an old office chair base and a car seat. Cheep accommodations! Had to get
something to take my after noon siestas on. Working fourteen hour days catches
up to you pretty fast. Besides, sitting on that stool over there left a little
to be desired when I know that the folks across the street at the bakery must
have been placing bets on which way I was going to fall off it!” I explain.
He opens up his book and starts
reading. I clear off the work bench and start to organize all my parts. The
head tube and bottom bracket are both faced and reamed, making installation
relatively easy. It took about four hours until I had it all together, and by
now Jalon has fallen asleep on the chair. I roll the machine up next to the
counter and told Buck to wake up our friend. "Buck, wake up Jalon. Get him
Buck!"
He bolts up just excited as all get out that
he might get some attention. Pushing his nose under Jalon's arm, we start to
get some movement out of the corps. Mumbling, Jalon asks "You done? So
much for watching you turn a wrench! Boy, ya know… there must have been quite a
few accidents in those old luxury vehicles. People falling asleep at the
wheel." Getting up and stretching, he walks over to the Joker. "What
a lovely we have here! What do you think now Partner?!"
"Got to give it straight to ya after the
ride. One thing I can do is weigh it on a bathroom scale." Going over to
the other counter I reach under and pull the scale out. Weighing myself and
then the bike and I, I determine that it comes out around twenty pounds.
"Pretty respectable considering the aro bars and Brooks leather
saddle."
"Weight
freaks! How big is that spare tire ya got around your waist? Rotational mass is
a more important factor than static weight." He walks out the door and
opens up the trunk of the T-bird, pulling out what looks like a custom road
frame.
"You
riding too?" I ask with enthusiasm.
"Lived
my whole life for this moment. You're darn toot'n I am! Saddle up
Laurence!" He rolls in a beautifully fillet soldered cro-molly machine
painted the same off-white as his Thunderbird.
"You
named it the 'Queen of Hearts'?" I ask.
"Don't
you drive a Queen of Diamonds boy, she'll beat you if she is able, and the
Queen of Hearts is always your best bet. This is my first love built under the
'Lovers Moon' of October few years back. We can stand around talk'n all day and
before you know it the sun will be down! Can I change in the room?" pointing
at the bath room door.
"Sure,
go right ahead." I tell him. Never thought of seeing him in riding shorts.
After all, he has been in that rustler's outfit all the time. He stepped out and I tried not to snicker.
"Well, you look almost human!" I say to him without trying to offend
him. He ignored me. Probably gets it all the time.
"Why
don't you get ready and Buck and I will go for a short walk. His eyes are
starting to look a little yellow."
"Thanks
much, Jalon!" The two of them disappear and I change into my riding
outfit.
Jalon's
riding apparel consisted of cotton shorts, Victoria I think, and a Campagnolo cotton T-shirt. I sit on the
floor and start to stretch when they walk back in. "I hope that we have
time for that on some grass in town. I could use a good stretch today!"
Jalon states as he unhooks Buck from his leash.
"Yea,
if you want to. There is a fairly large park on the North side of town as we
head out."
"So
we are heading up to Lodi, eh?"
"How
did you know where we were going?" I ask him. Again he is on the ball a
little more than I give him credit for. "It is my job to know!" he exclaims.
"Well
then, what is it then that you know about those crows that seems to be
following you all the time?" I ask Jalon pointing to the few that have
gathered once again on the roof top of the bakery across the street.
"You
see crows, I see a darkness that looms over me just like the things that hang
over you, my friend. Only the dark forces that hang over me are visible to us
all, I don't know so much about yours. You see, Hawks and crows are always in
competition for space just like our mind, body and spirit. I find it
interesting that crows band together just like the body and mind against the
soul to try to find their strength to create a force. The Hawk usually flies
alone or with a mate. The crows are there to try to steer me off course from
purpose. Create doubt in my direction. I was once deceived by the "One
With Many Names and Faces", however when I was in the Ozarks in Arkansas I
was blessed with an event that brought light to the element of power. Enough
for now. We have an event to experience this moment! Saddle up Partner!"
Without
another word he climbs on his ride and disappears down the road. I might have
hit a soft spot and once again I should have kept my mouth shut. No time now to
ponder. Closing up the Shoppe I take one last look at this beauty. Only a
38.75in wheel base. Might ride squirrelly. Starting out I immediately felt at
home here in the cock pit. As he said, I feel a little over steer when
stretched out on the bar ends while sitting up right. Once in the aro position
however, the machine disappears out from underneath me. Seeing the walk lights
blinking, I stand out of the saddle for a sprint to get through the stop lights
before they changed. Like a Gazelle the Joker accelerates with little effort.
The bottom bracket is as stiff as any aluminum frames I have ever ridden-even
my $2300 Klein Team Super with it's Boron reinforcement in the stays.
Gliding
along I almost forget about Jalon. Heading past Warner park while going out of
town I see him stretching in the green grass near the lake. Riding up to him I
feel an apology is needed for questioning him about the crows. "Hey, I'm
sorry for bringing up something about the crows."
"No
problem, Laurence. 'Truth' is something we all have to accept, no mater how
profound. So what's your ride like?" Jalon asks while he stands up and
then straddles his machine.
"Fits
like a glove! No matter how I try to be objective about it I cannot help but just
smile. Let's go past Lodi to Gibraltar Rock and see how it climbs on a steep hill!"
Lodi
is about twenty seven miles from Madison. Riding along, I notice how Jalon
appears as if he isn't even there. Kind of like watching a turkey vulture
circling in the sky. He would ride out front or behind me never trying to start
a conversation. Then he pulls up along side me and to size me up on my ride.
"How
do I look, Partner?" I asked him, trying to start a conversation.
"Like you belong there. We are coming
up on your favorite down hill. Enjoy!"
Hey,
how did he know that this is my favorite downhill? All of a sudden I here
"Seize the day!!!!" out of Jalon and then he disappears over the
crest of the hill. I get out of the saddle to try to catch up and it is short
time before I know that I am going too fast. Getting down into the aro position
I feel suddenly like I'm flying! The machine again is disappearing out from
underneath me, and I start to weave in between the leaves in the road just by
leaning on the saddle one side to the other - at 35 miles per hour! I need more
stability now so I put my hands out on the bar ends again and shift my weight
back over the rear of the saddle. Wow! Perfect balance! And, just as I think
that I am going to get past Jalon, like a Demon out of nowhere- a Doberman
Pincher bolts out of the adjacent driveway after Jalon never even realizing
that I am coming straight at him! I don't know how I got around that dog, by
pure luck or grace. I just locked up the rear tire and threw my hip to the left
pushing the bike out of the way of disaster. I watch the dog as it puts it's
tail between its legs and yell at him "What the HELL do you think you are doing here?!!" Then turning towards
the property I yell "Call your dog!!" The dog then drops back. Saying
a quick prayer to myself in thanking God that I came out of that one alive I
hear that proverbial pith..pith..pith-pishhhhhh! "Shit!" I exclaim
while yanking on the brakes.
Looking
for a place to try to stay warm in the September sun, I take a look at the
damage. There is a rip in the rear tire about five inches long, making it
completely useless. Looking up the road I see Jalon turning around and coming
back my way.
"Thought
I heard you cuss my friend!" he says with that 'I'm glad that happened to
you instead of me' look.
"That was the 'I've got a flat' all
rapped up into one word. Hey, what do you make of this?" I ask.
Jalon
looks at the tire and then reaching into his wedge pack, pulls out a spare
foldable tire. "I am a Boy Scout." he remarks kind of matter of fact.
"Boy,
ya know, I don't think I could have come out of that one alive on any other
bike. I mean, this geometry allowed me to move things so quickly when I needed
to. It was a total spinal reaction! By the way, how do you know me well enough
to know that this is my favorite hill?"
Jalon just sat down in the
grass and pulls some fig bars out of his fanny pack while he watches me work. I
am too busy changing the flat to press the issue. As if he is trying to sort
things to best express the concept he comments, "The fact is, I don't know
you at all my friend. I only know of
you. I know of you through my
experiences with you. No one knows
anything except that of themselves-and very few people of that. As Christ had
said "No one knows the Father except the Son, and no one knows the Son
except the Father." This is because they are one of the same, expressed in
the book of John some where. Combine how well I know myself with my experiences
that I have had with you, I can better understand you, of how you are felling,
what you are thinking, etc."
I
put the wheel down for the moment and walk over to sit next to this wealth of
knowledge. "Share some of those?"
"Sure,
no problem." He says.
"Run
that one by me again," I ask, "I don't quite understand."
"You don't understand
because you are holding ideas to the
information. The only limitation to any understanding is one's previously
conceived ideas and expectations of it. Let go of all thought and just listen.
It is like that of the relationship between the heart and the liver. Each has a
consciousness of its own, they are independent of each other. Totally
functioning independent of each other. They are aware of each other through the
universal consciousness of the being. If the liver goes bad the heart knows
about it in short time because of its experience with the Universal
Consciousness. So it is with each other."
"It seems to make sense." I
comment, only to bluff that I understand.
"Let
me put it one more way, if I can." Jalon then grabs my wheel to finish
fixing my flat.
"No,
go right ahead. I'm fascinated!" I say with enthusiasm.
"You
see that Oak tree standing in that field over there?" he asked, pointing
at a lowly tree in the field before us.
"Yes,
go on" I beg of him.
"Where does it receive its
nourishment?"
"From
the ground and the sun I suppose." I answer.
"And
then where do you receive your nourishment, my friend?"
"From
the same source."
"And
just who-or what- created that tree?" Jalon continues.
"Some
would say God."
"Then
who-or what- created you, my friend?"
"
The same, God"
"Then
would your answers be any different for me or any one or any thing else, my
friend?"
"No,
I guess not." I say trying to see where this whole thing is going.
"Was
it not said by a 20th century rock star that "I am he, as you
are he as you are me and we are all together"?" Jalon is now
finishing putting my rear wheel on and hands me the bike. "I'm not going
to pump up the tire. I'll let you have the honors!"
"It
was John Lennon." I follow through as I try to get 100lbs. of pressure out
of one of those mini pumps.
"Then
we can conclude that my thoughts are yours, and yours are mine. The same with
our feelings and so on. This is why it is so important to think about how we
interact with our environment, because what we do unto others we are doing unto ourselves!"
"Fascinating!
How did you learn all this?" I ask this individual with new light now.
"I
am just an observer of life. Like a mirror, I only reflect what I see. Far in
my past the Inner Voice had said to me that I would receive three rings joined
together when I would come to an understanding of these things."
"And
have you received them?" I ask, hoping that this is not a sensitive
subject.
"Feel
free to ask anything you want to know of me. I have nothing to hide- except my
frame building techniques!" he laughs as he pulls out a silver necklace
that is hiding under his shirt. It has three rings intertwined with each other.
With
that note we were both on the road once again heading down the road to Lodi.
Riding
along on the new tire I feel lucky to have Jalon along. I would have been still
along the road side wondering what to do next if he had not brought along that
spare tire. He is riding up ahead and in my mirror on my glasses I notice a
milk truck coming up behind us. "Car back!" I exclaim to Jalon.
We
both pull far right where the road starts to break up into a sad repair job.
Thinking that because of the stout bottom bracket and the straight bladed fork
that I am going to shimmy right off the road. Much to my surprise we track
right over it with ease. Catching up to Jalon I say to him "Even though
this frame is stiff in the torsion plane it appears to be very compliant in the
axial plane. I now see what you mean when you commented on the similarities
between the Metax stainless and high quality steel being like chocolate and
carob."
"For
those that are allergic to chocolate, carob is a nice alternative, eh.
Partner?"
"What??!!"
I ask of the master builder.
"For
those that want the feel of steel, the stiffness of aluminum and the corrosion
resistance of titanium now have a legitimate alternative, don't you
think?"
"You
forget aesthetics. This is one of the most beautiful frames I have ever laid
eyes on."
"Thank
you, however nothing in itself has beauty. The very things that we find in
ourselves that we admire we project on to something else and that is why it is
said that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I am glad that you admire my
work for that is what I set out to do. I thank you for your compliment."
Wow…
Now I see why he might ride out there alone with all those crazy thoughts going
on in his head. Touring along I begin to feel that this machine is too easy to
ride because I start to day dream too easily. Thinking about what Jalon said
earlier about universal conciseness, some questions begin to surface.
"When
we get into Lodi do you want to stop and take a brake?" Jalon asks.
"Yea,
pull in at the Quick-Trip!"
Lodi
is one of those all American small towns that you find splattered all across
the country I guess. Every one owns American made cars and generally says a
'Hello' when greeting strangers. Jalon goes inside and gets himself another
small box of fig bars, some Gatorade and a couple of bananas. I get my usual
large mixture of Coke and Diet Coke, a rice crispy bar and a muffin. Finding
Jalon sitting on the bench out front I sit beside him when one of the locals
walks by dressed up in your farmer bibs looking at us in our riding outfits
like we were from Mars.
"Good
morning to ya-sir!" Jalon says as if it were common practice for a
traveler.
"Ah,…
ya. Where are you from, boy?!!" the man questioned with a kind of
authority.
"From
the deserts of Utah, sir." Jalon replies in such a way that just made the
man look queer at him and continue on his mission into Quick-Trip.
I
look at him strangely enough and pose the same question, "Where?"
"I
was born in the desert and raised in a Cougar's den." Jalon says with kind
of matter of fact.
Well
I'm getting to know of this one well enough to know that I had better change
the subject mighty quick. "You remember when we were talking about
'Universal Consciousness' back there when I had my flat? Does that concept have
anything to do with Love?" He sat there with a mouth full of banana,
seeming to thoroughly taste every last drop. Again he is not to be hasty in
replying, like I set the hard drive into lock up.
"I
see that you have let your ideas go and the Truth is now able to reveal itself!
Yes my friend, it has everything to
do with Love for Love is what connects us all. Many years ago I was troubled by
some questions about life and when asking all sorts of 'Wise' people I couldn't
get a straight answer. The Inner Voice wrote a poem that goes:
In
life there are many questions
And it seems the answer is just 'not to ask'
Why
is there pain
What
is 'Truth'
And
why does the end just go 'poof'?
These
are just basic questions
And
their answer's seems to lie in the one above
But
here is one even grater than all those before
What
is the meaning of Love?
I
thought that I could find it in marriage, however I was disillusioned."
"So
what you are saying is that Love is 'Universal Consciousness?" I ask
Jalon.
"What
Love is, is different to everyone. To
me it is a verb. I believe that those that are looking for a noun will find a
banquette that has plates and silverware and all the fine furnishings. What
they won't find are the people interacting
with each other. No action, just materialism. What it's meaning is, however, is
universal-and it is to transcend.
Unfortunately for me my Teacher is very thorough in His ways, and to understand
exactly what Love means one would have to learn exactly what it doesn't
mean."
"And
how does on go about that?" I ask, hoping that it is not too personal.
"I
had to learn it through going through a bad relationship. Quick, what is the
opposite of Love?"
"Hate,
I guess." I said being the first thing off the top of my head.
"Apathy
is the opposite of Love. To Love is to care. To be apathetic, one is
indifferent. Hatred, my friend is the opposite emotional idea to Love. This is why we can hate the ones we Love
with the same vigor, because they are both the same emotion, different idea.
Do you know of what the difference in the idea is, my friend?"
"Well,
if the meaning of Love has something to do with caring about someone or
something else, then hate must deal with only concern of the individual. It
makes sense because one just needs to look at all the relationships that fall
apart when individual needs are not being met. Self centered ideas are the root
of all evil then, wouldn't you think?"
"He
who believes that they are to be Loved by the one who they hate will be pray to
the crossfire of conflicting emotional ideas
of Love and hate, for Love begets Love and hate begets hate, my friend!"
Jalon
just sat there and looked at me as a mentor would look at his student. Then he
preaches "Hold no ideas to the experience and let the Truth reveal
itself!" He gets up and walks over to his machine and makes an indication
that he is a bit restless to get moving.
"Sit
back down, you are not finished with explaining your poem. So when you came to
the conclusion that the meaning of Love is a form of caring, or in short-'WE',
have you found 'Truth'?" I feel like a sponge that is ready for the ocean.
"My
friend, people have been trying on that one since the day we began to think
independent thoughts. Do you think
you are ready for it now?!" he asks with a sigh.
"Try
me. Also try to do it in less than an hour because we still have a ride left
ahead of us!"
He
looked deep into my eyes and made me shiver. Then he gets up and goes into the
Quick-Trip, coming out with a pencil and paper. "I'm going to draw a
picture of my God and I want you to tell me what you see." He begins to
draw what looks like a circle and then put a dot in the center of it.
"It
looks like an eye." I say.
"The
ego is quick to see itself." He then writes 'Knowledge' on the inside and
'Awareness' on the outside of the circle. "The circle and everything
inside represents your ego-or knowledge. Everything outside represents
Universal Consciousness. There are two kinds of consciousness; knowledge and
awareness. The line of the circle is a boundary and represents understanding. One cannot obtain
awareness or knowledge without going through the circle. Therefore the ego knows only knowledge and is aware of
nothing. It is also finite. The spirit is aware
of everything, but knows nothing, and is infinite. E=mc2 is a nice piece of
knowledge, however if you are not aware of how it applies you will never split
an atom. 'Truth' then, my friend, is a revelation
or verb. This happens when the individual goes through an experience and either knowledge or
awareness is gained through understanding.
When knowledge is present and the mind holds no ideas to the experience,
then awareness can be gained. When awareness is present and the mind holds no
ideas to the experience, knowledge can be gained. What is important here is
what is common for both is the experience and that we hold no ideas to it.
'Truth' is the essence of this.
Enlightenment to the individual then is when one lets the Truth of this balance
come forth and govern their lives. The Goddess of the Meadow spoke of the
relevance of time to me, in that the experience
is needed to allow this to happen. There is only one who was ever born that
didn't need to go through the experience to become enlightened because He is
the Truth!"
"And
this is why you said before that the only limitation to any understanding is
one's previously conceived ideas and expectations of it." I say with the
enthusiasm of a graduating student.
"Very
good my friend! Any time you say that you cannot understand you are letting
these ideas prevent you from having clarity" Jalon now draws an arrow from
the center of the circle outward. " This is where it gets interesting,
because this is how Truth and God are one in the same. The ego is very self
centered because it knows it is going to die along with its knowledge.
Therefore eternal life can only be gained when the ego diminishes while the
self transcends beyond the circle through understanding into the spiritual. We
talked earlier about the meaning of Love being 'We'. The ultimate in this is
showed in the myth of the crucifixion. Nothing is lost in the death therefore,
because the experience and understanding of life all returns to the Divine
Conciseness in the form of a greater awareness of Being."
"You
lost me there." I say to Jalon. Wow, my head hurts. "Let's ride while
I let this settle. Are you ready?"
"As
ready as I'll ever be!"
Life
is a book that is already written
This
is the miracle of life
The
mystery is to find out how each one of us fits into the story
The
adventure is to transcend into it
Like
a couple of desperadoes climbing on their horses, we stroll out of town aiming
for what is considered to be one of the oldest mountain ranges in the world.
The Barraboo bluffs house one of the most beautiful lakes in Wisconsin called
-unfortunately - Devil's Lake. The Native American Indians gave it the name for
what they considered was the home of "The Great Spirit of the
Underworld" or if interpreted it will have the meaning for the giver of life.
When riding through this area of geological Bliss, one can appreciate how many
years of glacial activity this area has gone through to create the mature
rolling hills and valleys that make up the Wisconsin River bed.
"Been five glaciers that have come
through this area to bring down these mountains. I know that from where you
come from you would call these rolling hills. I think that you would agree
however, that like a woman that has aged gracefully, there is a certain amount
of beauty that Nature has to provide here." I comment to Jalon as we turn
onto Hwy. J that will take us up closer to Gibraltar Rock.
"When you live out west I have to
agree that the mountains have their grace. It is humbling to be here and see
how time along with nature can carve out of granite rock the sculptures that
she does."
I stretch out onto the aro bars and
feel my lungs open up. We are starting a small hill climb that I have to say
that is one of my favorites. All along the road side is some of the most
beautiful wild flowers. Blues, purples, yellows and whites create a sea of
colors that own the ground while the oak and maple trees reach over the top of
the road. As I get to the top of the hill, off in the distance are the
beautiful hills and valleys that make up the Wisconsin River bed landscape.
Jalon is now far ahead of me caused from my day dreaming. The first
twenty-seven miles were done with the average speed of nineteen miles per hour
and my legs are now feeling it. The road was freshly paved within the last few
years and now turns into more of a roller coaster ride with its twists and
turns, hills and valleys. As I finish another short hill climb the road takes a
sharp bend to the left and the bluff that makes up Gibraltar Rock is about 200
yards in front of me. Towering about 400 feet up I can see some rock climbers
doing what they do best.
Cresting
another roll in the road I see Jalon turn on hwy. V that takes you to the
county park gravel road. Not without a workout can you reach the entrance of
the park for a steep hill takes you to the top, and a long down hill on a
gravel road leaves you at the gate. This is where you have to lift your bike
over this gate to continue the journey up the bluff, and it is where I meet
Jalon.
"So, you have been here
before!" I say as we climb aboard our rides.
"One of my favorite places to come
for peace and quite during the day. I saw the rock climbers strutting their
stuff on the way up, and their presents during the week day is an unusual
occurrence."
This park has been around for about a
hundred years, the land given to the public after it was logged in the late
1800's. Time has created a mature woods that has grown over the broken up road
that takes you up to the bluff's top. This reasonable facsimile of a road is
now mostly covered up by pine needles and moss. Climbing aboard we both give a
sigh knowing that we could come out of this with knee problems. Jalon takes the
lead as we head up the two mile climb. There are sections that level out, however,
for the most part the road is a challenge to keep the rear wheel from spinning.
Jalon taking the lead up the hill put me in a position to take the chase.
Standing on the pedals I feel the rear wheel slip loose on the damp moss. One
advantage of a 650c wheel is how close the rear can get to the bottom bracket
for traction. I down shift to my 36/23 and sit on the saddle in hopes that I
can spin fast enough to catch up. Having a 72 degree seat tube angle puts me
even that much more over the rear wheel and I start to get traction and
accelerate with ease. About a quarter mile up the road the pavement flattens
out enough to get out of the saddle and down shift to pass this 'Joker'.
"Hey, watch it there buddy!"
Jalon comments as I brush past him.
"You snooze you loose!" I remark to try to throw salt
into the wound.
To
be continued....
