A story from the road:

THE WHEEZIN’ GEEZER, A STORY FROM THE ROAD

I first came upon the geez a few years ago when I was on a much needed vacation and motorcycle tour. I decided to solo out to the American West and enjoy some extended riding, the breathtaking scenery and the feeling of freedom and independence that only a journey of this sort can bring. On this particular day, I was riding along in the desert at a relaxed pace and had not seen another soul or machine for many hours and many miles. It was getting close to sundown. I had a few more miles to go before darkness overcame me and I would need to shut the scoot down for the night. I was feeling rather tired from a long, yet ecstatic, day in the saddle.

I spotted a picturesque scene along the road up ahead, with a forest of cactus surrounded by towering rock formations. I decided to pull over, shut down my scoot and have myself a comfort stop. I then stayed for a while in order to drink in the beauty of the scene that had unfolded before me. Stars had begun to turn on in the heavens and the sun was slowly slipping down below the horizon. I contemplated my place in the universe and the meaning of my life.

The silence was stunning, broken only by the occasional gust of wind and a coyote bark in the distance. I was totally at peace and felt a familiar oneness with my surroundings. I totally lost track of time and stayed longer than originally intended. “Okay” I told myself, “this day is winding down and I got miles to go.” I saddled back up and went to start up but to my dismay, my scoot just would not turn over.

I was puzzled because I knew I still had fuel. I checked the kill switch. I tried to start her up again, but to no avail. I tried again and nothing. My feeling of peace and oneness abruptly turned to one of concern. I thought about the fact that I had seen neither man nor machine on this lonely patch of two-lane for hours. I contemplated my fate. “I may be shut down here for some time before I see another soul.” If I was fortunate to meet with that encounter, I knew that there was no guarantee that they would feel comfortable stopping to help out a stranger, especially considering this remote location.

I remained calm, still planted in the saddle, when suddenly I heard the faint sound of a motorcycle in the distance. I turned around and gazed in the direction of the sound. Very faintly on the horizon I could detect the silhouette of a lone rider heading my way. ”Maybe this guy will stop and offer some help,” I thought, as his image grew with his approach. I heard the downshifts and he slowly pulled off the blacktop behind me.

He said,”Looks like you could use a hand, pardner. What seems to be the trouble?” He sat there, still saddled, with his arms folded across his chest. I informed him of my predicament and told him I had fuel but was not having any success getting her to start. Without another word, he kicked down his stand, leaned his ride over, dismounted and started to walk toward me.

He was an older gent with long gray hair and mustache. Although older, he had a youthful spring in his step. As he got closer I could see that he had a weathered appearance, a look that can come only from many miles in the saddle and a lifetime of experience. There was a small colony of insects stuck to the front of his vest and shirt, a few of which were still flapping their wings.

He stopped directly in front of me and looked me square in the eyes. He held out his hand and firmly shook mine. He introduced himself as “The Geezer.” I thanked him for stopping to which he replied “my pleasure.” He then turned to my ride and tried to start her up. Having the same result as I did, he purposefully walked back to his scoot and returned with his tool pouch.

Not much time had gone by, once he set about tinkering, that I decided to light up a smoke. I had to turn away from the wind that was starting to pick up when suddenly I heard the crank, fire and familiar, welcome sound of my usually dependable ride returning to life. I was quite surprised how quickly he had set things right and expressed my gratitude. I offered him payment which he quickly refused, shook his head and said “just pass it on.”

It was now getting quite dark. He commented on my good taste in picking such a grand place to break down and said that he decided he was going to go no further and make camp for the night. He invited me to stay and share a fire and what food he had. My first thought was to decline and be on my way but for some reason the words didn’t come.

I accepted his invitation. I was intrigued by his manner and appearance and the silence and purpose with which he went about setting up camp and building us a fire. We ate, shared a smoke and laid back to take in the night sky. The moon was a sliver of a crescent that seemed to smile down on us accompanied by the most wonderful star show I had ever witnessed. We observed quietly for some time before I broke the silence and said “tell me your story.”

He took a long, deep breath and, with a hint of a wheeze in his voice, said “I am not particularly fond of preachers… so….I don’t wanna appear to be preachin’…. but as long as ya asked…” He then told me that he was from everywhere and anywhere and had been planted in the saddle for what seemed like an eternity, but on the other hand, it seemed like it was only yesterday that he set out on his journey.

He told me he believed in a higher power, whether one refers to it as intelligent design, cosmic consciousness or God and repeated his distrust of anyone that felt the need to preach his or her beliefs, or lack thereof, in an attempt to seduce people over to their way of thinking. “I am in church right now,” he said.

He went on to say that he had a great love for our country and the principles by which it was founded. He said he was grateful for all the sacrifices made, while saddened by the countless lives lost, in the defense of those principles. He added that he was therefore often disappointed with our leaders, who all too often appear to be in it for their own gain and not have those principles and the people’s interests at heart.

He told me, “Now brother, no one has all the answers, but at some point I realized that one must be eager to engage the unknown. This journey that began in the soul continues on the road. No one knows where the journey will take us, where or when it will end or even if ever it ends. All I know is that we owe it to ourselves and to one another to be of assistance when one of us is in need.”

“I have learned that success is the result of hard work and that there is no free lunch but we all should be willing to give of ourselves for we all have something to share. However, we must be wary of, and prepared for, those that will interpret our kindness as weakness.”

“One must pursue and nurture the positive aspects and relationships in one’s life and try, as hard as it sometimes may be, to leave the negative in their dust. Our lives have meaning if only we realize we are to enjoy the wonder of this life, protect this place and truly look out for one another. We will have setbacks and hardships but we gotta pick ourselves up, pull our big boots on and keep on rolling."

He went on to say “I ain’t no spring chicken. I got silver in my hair and gold in my teeth but there ain’t no lead in my ass. I earned every one of these grey hairs and I’m proud of each and every one. I wouldn’t trade my age for youth anytime because I now know that with age comes wisdom, every crease brings us peace.”

The tone of his voice was soothing and seemed to have a hypnotic effect on me. I don’t know at what point I started to nod but I remember hearing his voice slowly fading away as I descended into sleep.

That night I dreamed I was in a magical place that I cannot begin to describe for its beauty and feeling of peace. I awoke feeling refreshed and anxious to get back on the road. The fire had been rekindled and felt good and warm on my skin, but the Geezer was gone. Disappointed, I sat and watched the fire die and then I set about breaking camp, and carefully packing my gear back on the bike. I became aware of the silence and purpose with which I was going about this familiar routine. I saddled up, started my scoot and she fired right up. Grateful, I glanced back over at our camp and reflected on the events of the previous day. I felt a renewed sense of purpose with my life. I hopped off the bike and went back to our spot to be sure that this place was left exactly the way that that it was found, undisturbed.

I noticed a small package that had previously escaped my view, almost as if suddenly appearing out of thin air. I reached down and picked it up. Opening it I found my breakfast, courtesy of the Geez. Inside the wrapper he had left me a note.

It read: ”Hey…saddle up and roll on… how long you plan on livin’?”