Six Seasons Christian Riders

Evangelist’s Ride Report

ALASKA BY MOTORCYCLE - 2011

- of Motorcycles & Eskimos

THE RIDE NORTH

The first smattering of rain drops began falling as I pitched my tent in Rugby, North Dakota, my designated meeting point with four other riders from northern Minnesota. I was riding north at the request of Tony Fichter, one of our Six Seasons members from Roseau, Minnesota. Tony recently founded a ministry to missionaries called Missions in Motion. He recognized that filling the vehicular requirements for a missionary is frequently a daunting task. It is accompanied by distracting hours missionaries necessarily spend searching for and financially securing their vehicles, accompanied by the often-times demanding logistics involved in acquiring them. He founded Missions in Motion to provide vehicles where needed, focusing primarily on off-road and specialty vehicles. Since we have used many specialty vehicles over the years in Six Seasons and understand those needs, he asked if I would be willing to come alongside him. I agreed. What better way for a ministry to utilize its experience and multiply its efforts and effect? Hence his request to make the trip north to deliver one of those vehicles to a missionary in a remote Eskimo village in Alaska. As it happened, I had an opening for the timetable he requested as two regular rallies cancelled this year due to financial difficulties. I was free to go – if we rode fast. It did prove to be a whirlwind trip.

The other riders rode in just in time to pitch their tents and duck into them as it began to pour. The rain beat a steady note on our tents all night long. Packing our tents wet in the morning, we rode off in our rain gear. Gradually the sky cleared, and the temperature climbed into the eighties as we rolled across the plains of North Dakota and Montana. By sunset we were 650 miles further west and in sight of the Rocky Mountains. We made camp in Cut Bank, Montana for the night.

In the morning we broke camp and packed our bikes, and being it was Sunday morning, we assembled for an Open-Range Church service beside our motorcycles before riding on into the Rockies. Did I mention that three of the bikers were not Jesus followers? My message was a simple to-the-point service that introduced Christ – and God’s redemptive plan of salvation offered to Man through Him. Then we mounted up and rode into Glacier National Park. We ascended the winding road up and over the 10,000 foot summit on Going to the Sun Highway, descending the far side into camp that evening on Lake McDonald. There were three bikes left as our KLR 650 rider had turned back at the summit, having to be back in Minnesota. Little did we know that was to be our last night camping together as circumstances would soon separate us.

Riding in British Columbia late the following evening the rear wheel bearing failed on the BMW 1100 GS. Fortunately the two-up ridden bike didn’t lock up and coasted safely to a stop. Oil was flowing freely out of the rear housing and it emitted a grinding sound from its internals when it was moved. It was obviously toasted. My new BMW riding friend was a prepared rider and immediately opened his BMWMOA book (a book of BMW owners in the US and Canada) and called for help. But after over an hour of calling he could find no one who could or would come to his assistance. He then enlisted Tony to use his expertise on his iPhone in acquiring help, but the best Tony could come up with was a motorcycle dealer in Calgary who could pick the bike up around 10am the next morning – for a fee of $800! That was not a financial option. So he began making preparations to camp right where we were.

When all else fails we try God, right? All too often that is the way we operate. Call it pride or thinking that God is too busy or whatever – we often leave Him out until the last desperate moment. Interestingly (God’s timing is always perfect), our campfire conversation the previous evening had been about just that - Jehovah being a personal God. While other false gods (Buddha, Allah, Ghia, etc.) are remote and never interact with their worshippers, much less show mercy, Jehovah does. The Bible is full of examples. In our conversation it was evident this concept was not fully understood. That was about to change.

So I fielded the question, "How about trying God’s kingdom workers?"

"What do you mean by that?" was the response.

I explained that God has His kingdom workers everywhere - Believers with a servant’s heart willing to carry out His bidding. Even in the remote areas of British Columbia. I asked Tony to look up the phone number of the nearest church which we then called. I explained our situation to the pastor, and within ten minutes we received a call back informing us that a pickup was on its way. Our broken down rider was speechless. God was obviously at work showing His personal interest in his situation. So while Tony and I rode on to find some late night lodging, our BMW riding friends spent it with a youth pastor enroute to Calgary. Actions speak louder than words at times like these.

That was the last we were to see of them as they spent the next four days in Calgary waiting for parts. It would take another day to do the repairs. Tony and I could not wait as we had reservations on a flight out of Anchorage for Scammon Bay and had just enough time to get there. The two of us headed on across western British Columbia. Two days later we checked into the Sealaska Inn in Hyder, Alaska’s southern-most coastal village. Motel accommodations gave us the option of not having to pitch and pack up our tents in the ever-constant rain in the coastal mountains – and a chance to dry out. Sealaska has an attached laundromat just down the covered boardwalk so one does not have to get wet nor slop in the mud packed street when it’s raining (it was). Handy. We took advantage of the facilities.

Hyder is the southern most town in our forty-ninth state, and is a famous extra-point stop for Iron Butt riders. Two such riders were getting some much needed sleep when we rode in – one of whom departed in the wee hours of the following morning, obviously still having a goal. (For those readers who don’t know – the Iron Butt riders pride themselves on riding around the USA accumulating over 1,000 miles each day ridden, with extra points given in the riding contest for out-of-the-way places – one of which is Hyder.)

In the morning just east of Stewart, BC, Tony and I connected with the Cassiar Highway and headed in a more northerly direction, connecting with the Alaska Highway that evening some 350 miles further north near Watson Lake, Yukon. When we came to the stop sign at the intersection of the Cassiar Highway and the Alaska Highway I literally blinked and shook my head. The last time I had seen the Alaska Highway it was all dirt. I knew it had been paved, but seeing and believing are two different things. Now it was a beautifully paved road with wide shoulders and few curves, compared to the winding rough dirt of yesteryear (the original Alaska Highway was constructed during WWII and many curves were built into it to prevent convoys of trucks from being straight-line strafed by Japanese planes). It suddenly seemed as if some of the adventure had been leaked out of the trip with the advent of asphalt. Oh well; progress. At least it wouldn’t turn into muddy gumbo when it rained. That I would not miss.

Flashback:

The memories of that first trip came flooding back. The year was 1969. I was a young man fresh out of the military – so fresh that my college professors kept reminding me not to call them Sir. I had purchased my first motorcycle, a 1966 Harley Davidson 250 Sprint, while in the service. In the early spring I traded it on a 1967 Sportster XLH, which I rode for two months and then traded up to my first Big Twin – a 1967 Electraglide. While ‘Old Blue’ was forty years older than my current ’07 Street Glide – not all that much has changed. Harley never threw away the mold. I remember well watching Neil Armstrong take his first steps on the moon the night we camped in Kalispel, Montana. Four motorcycles left the Twin Cities that year: the Sportster broke down half way up the Alcan and its owner hitch hiked into Anchorage, one bike separated from us in keeping with a different time table, and I towed the Triumph Bonneville from Tok Junction the last four hundred miles into Anchorage with a blown engine. I was beginning to wonder if this trip would fare better?

The next day Tony and I flirted with termination dust (snow) coming down almost to the highway in Kluane Lake, with frost on the motorcycle seats in the morning. Rain gear and electric vests were the uniform of the day. The highway north of Whitehorse was rough aggregate chip-seal full of frost heaves, some of which launched us when we were gawking at the scenery. It was tough on tires. The road surface abruptly smoothed out, however, on the Alaskan side of the border. We stopped in Tok, Alaska for a meal and it was here that Tony discovered that his KTM 950 Adventure had worn out its chain and chewed up its sprockets – several teeth had broken off. With no parts available in Tok he decided to rent a truck as we had a flight to catch. Thus the KTM finished its trip in the back of a rented truck and I rode into Anchorage alone on my Harley – again, just as I had 42 years earlier.

THE ESKIMOS OF SCAMMON BAY

Scammon Bay is a Yup’ik Eskimo village of less than 500 people sitting on the south bank of the Kun River, in the Yukon-Kuskokwim Delta, one mile inland from the Bering Sea on Alaska’s western coast. The only transportation is snow machine in winter and ATV in the summer. It has one church missionary/pastor, Jason Stromstad. At forty-nine years of age, Jason suffers from arthritis. He must walk backwards down flights of stairs and cannot throw his legs over a snow machine or ATV, which is the only means of transportation in the village. Neither can he walk far. Our mission: to deliver a Polaris Ranger, which provides side by side seating like a car, to Jason for his use. We will assemble it from the crate and install Mattracks on it in place of wheels/tires so he can use it year-round.

Upon our arrival in Anchorage Tony and I dropped off our motorcycles at our respective dealers. The Harley shop would store my bike during my Scammon Bay trip (no charge) and have it ready to ride upon my return with oil/filter changed and two new tires installed. They are a very accommodating shop. It’s obvious that the owner, Barry Mattison, has not forgotten the days when we were all doing our Harley thing on a shoe string budget. In times past I spent more than a little time in his shop, which was next to Chilkoot Charlies in those days before he became the House of Harley and an authorized Harley dealership. And while his dealership today is the largest Harley dealership in the largest city in the largest state in the union, he still offers free camping out back to riders of any brand motorcycle. A good thing to remember if you’re traveling to Alaska on a budget.

Tony and I were joined in Anchorage by Tony’s dad, Gene, and Roger Helgeson, who flew in from Roseau, MN. This was Gene’s vacation so he stayed in Anchorage while Roger, Tony, and I flew out to Bethel where we transferred to a smaller aircraft for the hop to Scammon Bay. Upon our arrival we went immediately to work following Tony’s directions. We didn’t know how difficult the job might prove to be and we were on a time table and weather could always be an issue. While working we lived and ate with Jason. We consumed plenty of salmon and fresh moose, along with caribou and some bearded seal. Each meal was usually accompanied by rice. Remember, no potatoes are grown out here as there are no gardens. It’s too cold and the season is too short. The Eskimos are a subsistence people living off of fish and wild game. To live there is to adapt. None of us knew how long it might take to adapt to bearded seal, however. It had an extremely strong, lingering, fishy flavor. A taste not soon forgotten.

The weather gave us an unusual break from strong winds with only a little rain so the assembly of the Ranger from its crate and installation of the Mattrax went well. We soon discovered that we were the main entertainment in the village as we were continually surrounded by kids, climbing everywhere and constantly asking questions. On our final day there Jason drove his new vehicle to the school on the hill top above the village – the first time he had been there because it was always too far for him to walk. He was thrilled. Now he is able to go wherever he needs, and I’m certain he will gain many friends as they utilize his vehicle for moose hunting, berry picking, and hauling in drift wood for fires.

My highlight in Scammon Bay came from the faith I discovered in the Believers in the village. I’ll never forget Jacob (his English name) telling me during one of our Bible studies that, even though they were a remote frontier village, most homes had satellite television and they knew the signs of the times pointing to Christ’s soon return. He told me that he expected to suffer terribly for his faith, but what was that, he said, compared to what Christ went through for him. Indeed, God has His faithful servants everywhere.

ANCHORAGE REVISITED

Upon our return to Anchorage Tony, Gene, and Roger went to the Kenai Peninsula for three days salmon and halibut fishing. I took that time to look up some old friends while conducting ministry. I was blessed to find many who had come to faith in Christ in Bible studies conducted when we lived in Anchorage still following the faith. And of the four riders on that first trip in 1969: the Triumph rider I towed into Anchorage became a successful mountain climbing guide on Mt. McKinley, the Sportster rider who hitchhiked into Anchorage is an Alaska State representative, and two of the riders are missionaries.

With two new tires on my bike, and with Tony’s new chain and sprockets on his, we said goodbye to Anchorage and headed for the Yukon border – then on down the Alaska Highway again to Dawson Creek at its end. The weather was cold and wet – it was 38 degrees and raining the morning we departed Whitehorse, and the rain continued with temperatures only in the forties for most of the next two days. In Dawson Creek, at the end of the Alaska Highway, the rain finally ended and we rode dry the last fifteen hundred miles home.

IN CONCLUSION

While long, wet, and cold (what does one expect riding to Alaska in August?), the ride provided some excellent ministry. We all saw God work, spiritual seeds planted, hearts cultivated, and relationships renewed. And Jason is now better equipped.to carry out his work with the Eskimos of Scammon Bay.

Would I make the trip again? You bet, if there’s ministry to be done. That’s the purpose of Six Seasons Christian Riders – to go where ministry is needed, regardless of weather or distance or vehicles required. And to come alongside other ministries requesting our assistance. What a privilege.

2010 FALL REPORT

Some new areas of ministry opened to us this season. In August Zeb joined an overland wagon train traveling through the wooded trails and back roads of northern Wisconsin. Each evening they camped in the woods alongside the trials. Food was cooked over the campfire. It was a real taste of history. I was invited to join them riding in Zeb’s buggy but had other commitments during the same time period. However, Judah and I did ride the KLR’s down the trails to their campsite one evening and joined them as they sat in the woods around their fire. I was approached that evening by the owner of one of the wagons who said they knew me. They related that they had driven from their ranch, which is located in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains near Browning, Montana, to Cut Bank five years earlier to hear me speak when I was preaching a series of meetings there. Small world after all. The North-Woods of Wisconsin is a long way from the Big Sky prairie. The places one finds fellow believers is encouraging.

I was able to meet the wagon train again on the last day of their journey prior to breaking camp for their last day’s pull. That Sunday morning happened to be Father’s Day. They asked me to pray for the fathers present and for that day’s ride. That evening, at the conclusion of the ride, Marilyn and I joined them for a barbeque dinner back at the A-One Ranch. We had a great opportunity to talk, mix, and minister with new people. As we left the owner asked if we would consider joining them for the whole ride next year.

This is another example of ministering opportunities God brings to us to reach people if we are willing to follow His leading. The mode of transportation may vary, but the people are the same. That’s why our Six Seasons motto is ‘in all seasons…prepared’. Whether on two wheels or four, floating in a boat, skimming over the snow on a snowmachine, or being pulled in a wagon, we need to guard against becoming fixed and narrow in our vision. We must remain willing to follow wherever God leads us because it’s people that need the Lord. Our mode of transportation just gets us there.

There was no break following the last motorcycle rally this fall. The weekend after I parked the motorcycle I began church ministry preaching and teaching well into November. Our home front wasn’t quiet either. In October we hosted a group of IVCF (Inter-Varsity Christian Fellowship) members from the University of Wisconsin at our home for a hayride followed by a campfire, where I spoke to them over s’mores and hot chocolate. UWS has hundreds of international students, many more today than when I was a student there. Students from Nigeria, India, and South Korea were among the American students at our home. What a privilege it is to train and challenge them to serve their God faithfully as they are literally taking the gospel into the entire world as they return to their homes. We’ll be doing more of this outreach in the future as more groups come. I’m thankful God has equipped us with the space, tractors, teams of horses, and wagons with which to do these activities. Our purpose is to be available for all of God’s kingdom work.

I hope that some of you will join us here for some of our activities. If you’d like to bring a group for a special purpose let us know. Six Seasons is much more than just motorcycle outreach and road work. We have a home-base we’re using. Bring ‘em in.

EARLY SPRING 2010

My motorcycle ministry began early this year, riding south in March to escape the latter part of our northern winter. This early spring ministry trip has been in the making for a couple of years. In order to get everything in, however, I had to leave before my regular rallies began, hence my March departure.

Demographics: I rode 7,000 miles in four weeks time covering fifteen states speaking in churches, ministering to groups, doing discipleship training, pastoral meetings, Six Seasons rides, and motorcycle rallies. I spoke 23 times, sometimes leaving a morning breakfast group to ride all day and speak with another group of people that evening. I lay over one day to rest my voice (I was getting hoarse) and my body (after a 650 mile day which began with a breakfast meeting). I experienced many divine appointments enroute with individuals, some of whom dedicated their lives to Christ, some recommitted to that from which they had turned away, and a few rejected – waiting, as they said, for a ‘better’ time. That’s all right. It’s their choice. I’m simply the messenger, so my mission is accomplished when the message is given. The Holy Spirit will faithfully take those planted seeds and grow them as only He can.

Weather: I was waiting for a March day with the temperatures above freezing to make my escape south. God was most gracious in providing a day in the upper forties at my departure which reached into the low 70’s before the day was over in Kansas. Record breaking rains and flooding in Texas waited until I was gone. High desert heat held off until I was across New Mexico and Arizona, and snow didn’t block my ride over the Rockies, waiting until after I left Kalispel, Montana to dump eight inches of the white fluffy on the roads behind me. I was able to ride through Glacier National Park with no lines of tourist’s cars or motorhomes slowing me down. I had the road to myself. My rain gear was used only a couple of times, while my electric vest became a permanent fixture crossing the Idaho and Montana Rockies and North Dakota on my way home in April.

Ministry: The first commitment to Christ came within hours of our arrival in Texas. A Mexican man whose family was ashamed of him because he had been in prison more than they had (all had criminal records – he just got caught most often) had a horrendous story to tell. We told him that in spite of his family’s rejection, God still loved him. He loved him enough that He sent His only Son to die for him, that he might have eternal life. We also told him that God is a God of new beginnings and that all things can become new to believers in Christ. He willingly prayed to receive Christ. Knowing that I would be leaving soon I turned his discipleship over to Jerry and Nancy Hardy. It’s great having people in diverse places that are willing to become mentors to new believers. The Bible clearly states that we are to make disciples, not decisions. Jerry and Nancy are crucial for this mans growth.

While ministering to groups is often foremost in people’s eyes, where numbers give things a grand flair, it’s the individual contacts that encourage me the most. It’s the place where I’m not ‘shotgunning’ God’s word into a crowded sanctuary not knowing how it will affect everyone, but am targeting an individual with answers to his questions and taking the time to be personal. I had many of those on this trip. Let me tell you about one of them:

(To protect Jacks identity I'm going to call him that: Jack. I don't often share personal stories as I don't want to ever embarrass anyone, nor violate confidences. But this story will relate to all of us because of it's time frame (over twenty years in the making) and patience during this time period. All too often we harpoon people with the gospel rather than being patient 'fishers of men'. We desire instant success as we define it (a quick prayer to receive Christ, for example) while God has infinite patience with us. I'm sharing this story because it's close to my heart and I really like and care about Jack - enough so not to have pounced on him with gospel truths before he was ready. It's a lesson in exercising God's patience. May Christ be glorified.)

Jack: Marilyn received several calls after I had left from people who, knowing that I’d be in their area during my trip, asked if I’d stop and see them. Jack was one of those. He was raised in a Christian home but fell away after his days in the Army during the Viet Nam era. When I returned his call he directed me to his place of work. Did I mention that Jack has been a mortician for forty years? I rode into his place of work and he came out dressed like Ducky of NCIS – blue scrubs. He asked if bodies bothered me and I replied, "No". So I suited up and joined him. Now, I always told God I’d minister wherever He wished me to, but I never quite expected this. Bodies lay about in different stages of preparation as he went to work embalming one. I learned a lot.

During our conversation Jack told me that he had had a wake-up call from God two years earlier with a heart attack. He said that he realized while lying on the gurney in the hospital that you don’t tell God "No!" So I asked him about his relationship with God. Had he put Him out of his life, or had he just put God on a back burner? He replied, "Lee, I hear three to four sermons every day in my work – sometimes up to six. And I’ve come to the conclusion that no religion has it right."

I reminded him that when Jesus came He had the harshest words to say about some of the organized religious people of His day. They had taken a thing that was supposed to concern a man’s personal relationship with his God and turned it into a crooked system. That’s why He turned over the money tables in the temple. Religion wasn’t the answer I told him: relationship was. I then asked him where the faith for his salvation was placed? He thought about that for a long moment, and then just like lights coming on again he turned to me and replied, "No! No! My faith for my salvation is still in Jesus Christ!" Thus began Jack’s return to his faith.

I received a call from Jack the following morning and the first thing he said was, "Well, did you sleep well last night or did you have night mares?" I told him that I had slept well, and his comment was, "Well, I think that if you watched me a few more times you could do that work yourself." I told him "Thank you, but no thanks. I’ll deal with the living". He then asked if I could join him for the day as he’d made arrangements to take the day off of work. So we spent the day together. He took me to a huge museum near his town. The first room we entered showed life from conception to birth. He slipped up beside me as we viewed the babies in their fifth month and asked, "Lee, where do you think life begins?" I know he wasn’t really asking my opinion, but wanted to know what the Bible said. So I told him, "At conception." And related the Biblical examples.

We next entered a room with a huge dinosaur skeleton standing over a rock formation. After several minutes Jack slipped up beside me and nonchalantly asked, "How old do you think the earth is?" Good question, so off we went comparing what the Bible says to what geologists have to say. Fortunately my geology minor at the University of Wisconsin paid off as I remembered what was taught there – and it’s not adverse to what the Bible says if you know your science and the Bible. It was an interesting day as Jack reconnected things in his mind.

As we sat together for the last time that evening Jack said something I’ll pass on because it’s important that we all remember this his point. He said, "Lee, do you know what I really appreciate about you?" I knew he wasn’t going to comment on my wavy hair. He said, "You live your faith, but you never force it on anyone."

I’ve learned that force-feeding is for babies or the dying, and most adults gag when something is pushed down their throat. If we have the patience to wait for the Holy Spirit to prepare people to hear His word, it will be welcomed. After that statement Jack and I chatted in depth about spiritual things for the rest of the evening. Jack has now reconnected with his God.

Follow-up: A number of years ago I married a couple at the Reno, Nevada HOG Rally. Both accepted Christ in their motel room at Bally’s Casino on Friday evening and asked if I would tell their fellow HOG members what I had shared with them about Christ at the beginning of their marriage ceremony. I’ll never forget rumbling down Reno’s main street on Saturday afternoon with about thirty Harleys. People spilled onto the street to see what the noise was all about and thus, with their HOG chapter gathered about them and several hundred gambling folks listening, I told the salvation story and married David & Linda Frisbee. I had not seen them since, but riding through their area in Northern California I gave them a call. They met me in Redding for breakfast. I’m happy to report they are doing well. The surprise I received was when I asked them how long they have now been married. Linda replied, "Lee, you married us eighteen years ago!"

I was astounded. It doesn’t seem that long ago. Somehow all of the hundreds of ministering opportunities run together into one massive ride for Jesus. Separating each story into individual lives and histories makes one feel a bit old. As I hit the road north for more ministry, I had to reflect: God is so good to have allowed me to see him work in this manner. Lives changed, lived, and yes, some gone home already. We’ve made a difference in those lives by introducing them to Christ. And we’ll continue to make a difference in people’s lives and in their eternal destination as long as we’re able.

****************

Fall 2009:

A frigid near-full moon in the clear October sky indicated it was going to be a hard freeze tonight and a cold ride home. Feeling the numbness coming into my fingers, my mind wandered back to our Six Seasons ride to Padre Island in Texas this past April. It was over 100 degrees when we returned home from that one, eagerly seeking out air-conditioned comfort. Tonight, by contrast, a hot bath was going to feel much better. A glance at the thermometer showed 37 degrees as I entered the house.

I had just finished our last HOG ride of this season. I was remembering the numerous times, over many years now, that I’ve arrived home cold after riding in such weather - and worse, for the opportunity to spread the good news of Christ. Has it been worth it? You bet! More than a few folks will be joining us in heaven because of our faithfulness, and more than that will be without excuse because they have heard, albeit rejected (for now at least) the salvation provided for them by the Son of God. But we have been faithful and are completing the work God has put before us. The results are up to Him. He is trustworthy. That thought warmed my soul as the hot bath began to take the chill from my body. I reflected back upon other warming moments.

The first of this season was a campfire in the backyard of Roddy & Jan Sams near Staples, Minnesota this past May. About twenty five of us had gathered around the fire to eat s’mores and talk about God’s work. A good group they were, encouraging in their desire to be a part of what God was doing. The following morning they joined us along with other motorcyclists and a church full of people for the Bikers Blessing service in the Alliance church. Our after-service ride attracted about thirty motorcyclists. It was a good beginning in the North Country.

While economic uncertainty cancelled many rallies, others saw opportunity. Al & Jan Timm of Timm’s Trikes in St. Charles, Minnesota improvised a Recession Rendezvous at their dealership in June. It was a scaled down version of their regular rally - very nicely done. Saturday evening’s dinner was held at Denny’s instead of the upscale steak house as normal. Everyone was able to dine according to his own appetite and pocket book without embarrassment, and the evening was very enjoyable. Zeb rode with me, his fiddle strapped onto the back of his bike, and brought music to the campfire following Saturday evening’s service as well as the Sunday church service, which was attended by everyone present. God’s Word was well received.

My next fire was a cooking fire near Cable, Wisconsin as Louis and Sandra Holly hosted our SSCR Readiness Rally. We dealt with issues of our day with emphasis on being prepared to serve. David Rambo introduced us to "Broken Knees", a first person reenactment of a Voyageur. We learned how our ancestors lived in the woods in the past and applied some of their methods to modern ones teaching us how to survive in the future should we need those skills. We all observed David and his son, Jim, cook over open fires and prepare Dutch oven meals, answering questions as they did so. Firsthand experience was available for anyone wishing to try their hand. Coupled with other topics of financial survival and eschatology, we came away encouraged and knowledgeable concerning our actions to be ready, both spiritually and physically, in our changing times.

Several told me before they left that they knew now what they would do to get their house in order. A lady who joined us for the first time in her motorhome, and who had just recently lost her job in market scale-downs one year short of her retirement, admitted to me that when she arrived she was quite unsettled by her whole situation. She related that she felt that burden of fear lifted as her new friends prayed for her during the final service on Sunday morning. "For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind." (II Timothy 1:7)

Hot mid-summer heat never quite made it this year (so much for global warming) and soon Harley thunder on the highway near our home indicated the beginning of the migration to Sturgis. Time to go. I saddled up the Softail and headed west, riding a bit over 600 miles the first day to a favorite stopping place on the banks of the Missouri River in Pierre, South Dakota. It helps that the camping is free, and word gets around.

It’s a great place to meet other itinerant motorcyclists for fellowship and ministry. I was not disappointed.

The following afternoon I joined other SSCR members at our campground in the Black Hills. Each day we rode out seeking divine appointments, those times when we can pray for, minister to, and present the gospel message to the lost, or encourage fellow believers. Each evening we spent time in God’s Word and fellowshipped. Every day was unique unto itself and many stories could be told. I’m going to relate one, because it shows so well how God gently moves people into position to hear His Word in answer to our prayers.

A young Wyoming couple was camping with us for the first time. It was their first time riding in the Black Hills and attending Sturgis. They joined us in our rides, observed us ministering, and listened each evening as we fellowshipped. As our last evening of fellowship began we were hoping they would once again join us so we could complete the circle of teaching and bring them to the knowledge of what being a Christian meant. But when we gathered together we discovered that they were already in their tent – asleep. It was only 9pm! Evidently keeping up with old bikers all day had tired them out. (I just had to say that J )

As I sat down with the group gathered I simply said, "We can trust God. If He wants them to join us they’ll be here." I’ve learned not to pick green fruit. The Holy Spirit knows when each person in ready. As Sandra was filling our coffee cups prior to beginning I noticed lightning in the west. Shortly a fast-moving South Dakota storm was buffeting the Holly’s trailer. Rain was coming down in sheets – sideways! I looked out and saw that three of my tent pegs had pulled out of the ground and my tent door was flapping in the breeze. Our young couple’s tent was ‘woofing’ up and down and they were standing inside trying to hold it down. Some things are just not to be. Within minutes two wet bedraggled people were knocking at our door. Drying off with towels and with warm coffee in hand, they joined us in our study. Sometimes God is hard to ignore. He had them where He wanted them to be. They heard what God wished them to hear. I crawled into my wet sleeping bag that night - rejoicing. Each time I awakened during the night due to the wet bag, I praised God! I had seen the hand of God at work. Victory is His.

Sleeping in my own bed for a few days felt great. After replacing a worn out rear tire on my motorcycle I was off to another trike rally, this time Vern’s Backyard Bash in Blooming Prairie, Minnesota. Folks gathered from the US and Canada for this event, cementing old relationships and forming new, with one on one ministry at it’s best. Vern provided on-site meals this year, very reasonably priced, so no one had to leave to eat out if they didn’t wish. Camping was free as well, with showers provided. It was very helpful in a tight economy. I’m very please by the manner in which folks like Vern are stepping up to the plate to help keep events going. A Saturday night storm collapsed the large tent erected for, among other things, our Sunday church service (my tent pegs held this time). So I preached outside using a compact battery powered sound system that David Rambo had just given to me on Friday evening. Talk about God’s timing! He fulfills our needs sometimes even before we know what they’ll be.

A change of hats was in order for the Great Northern Classic Rodeo on Labor Day weekend. For each performance Zeb rode in the grand entry parade and then exchanged his saddle for a harness and carried the barrels for the barrel races in his buggy. I opened each performance with prayer. On Sunday morning, with about fifty in attendance, Marilyn, Zeb (fiddle and accordion), and Chuck Shaul (guitar) played and sang close harmony trio providing twenty minutes of music before I brought God’s word. God accomplished a work in hearts that morning.

The following weekend it was off to the Davis Rally in New Hampton, Iowa, the final large rally in the Upper Midwest for the season. A growing number of Six Seasons members joined us and some newer Christians began to actively minister and pray with others for the first time. I was encouraged by what I observed – the Body of Christ becoming active among people.

I ask God’s blessings upon you who have prayed and given faithfully to make this ministry possible. Souls are finding Christ. New Believers are growing into mature disciples and beginning to minister. God is being glorified! "And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not." (Galatians 6:9)

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MINISTRY SUMMARY: SUMMER 2008

Kiwi Guests: While traveling between rallies I met a couple from New Zealand at a service station in Sheridan, Wyoming. They were looking for interesting ways to get to the Atlantic Ocean so I suggested the Great Lakes route. I offered our home as a stopover if they so chose and told them when I would be back home. Sure enough, a couple days after I returned home I received a call from them. They had decided to take me up on my offer. They spent a couple of days with us chatting about the differences in our countries and riding our Harleys together as we showed them some of our area. On our last evening together I asked what they knew of Christianity and was told, ‘very little’. I didn’t unfairly dump everything on them. It’s totally unfair to corner a guest. However, our Kiwi friends left with enough to begin them on their spiritual quest should they decide to pursue it. The Holy Spirit is quite adequate and faithful in such situations.

July - Cody, Wyoming: Are you a professional Christian or a Lay Christian? That’s the question I began our Cody Campout with on Thursday evening. I went on to relate that there is no such thing as a ‘lay’ Christian in the Bible. According to the Bible you are either a Christian or not. In today’s churches, however, most Christians file into their pews where the ‘lay’ Christians belong and watch church performed by the ‘professionals’ (paid) up front. There is little interaction. No questions are answered. The pastor prays over the congregation, they don’t pray for one another. This bears little resemblance to the early Church where we read in Acts that they ministered to one another using the gifts the Holy Spirit had given to them. The Church was an organic body back then, not spectators.

I informed our people that for the rest of this campout both of the evangelists present, Louis Holly and myself, were not going to be ministering to them. The Church was going to become the Church this weekend. Any ministering done would be done by them. It took a bit, but the Body present came to life. By the time Sunday morning arrived we had men praying, cying, laughing, and riding together. Relationships were repaired, separations in marriages were healed, and our numbers grew each day. When it was time to end the campout on Sunday morning no one wanted to leave. We were asked if we could stay longer. I had commitments elsewhere, but Louis and Sandy Holly along with Gary Brown did stay – for two more days. What a blessing to see the Church come alive and BE the Church! No programs, no buildings, no formulas, just the Church being the Church. How refreshing!

Vern’s Backyard Bash – trike rally: Louis and Sandra Holly joined me for a great time of one on one ministry throughout the weekend. The morning service was well attended and I really appreciated the spontaneous participation by our SSCR people present. It made for some great ministry when folks observed Christians having fun alongside them at their event. All too often Christians can be stiff and stuffy….our folks weren’t. We had opportunity to minister and pray with many.

Great Northern Classic Rodeo: This year Zeb Downey and his team of Belgian draft horses joined me. I opened each performance with prayer. Zeb and his team took part in the arena in each rodeo performance. On Sunday morning Zeb (on his fiddle) and Chuck Shaul (accompanying guitar) ministered during a well attended Cowboy Church Service.

Very Boring Rally: This Aerostich - sponsored rally for world motorcycle travelers, combined with the world trials competition, was well attended. Ministry was good.

St. Croix Alliance Church: Marilyn and I were reminded that it was fall as we rode our motorcycles in forty-degree weather to St. Croix Falls, Wisconsin this September morning to minister and present the ministry of Six Seasons. About ten miles from the church we came up behind Joe Culver on his Sportster chugging along, bundled to the hilt. Smart man. Jerry Hardy pulled into the parking lot beside us – great timing.

I was still shivering as I preached the first service. Folks in the front pews may have thought I was nervous or perhaps ‘in the spirit’. By the time the second service came around I had thawed out and was up to speed. Good thing too as God filled the sanctuary with both Christians desiring to learn about Six Seasons and unsaved bikers joining us. It was a special blessing and surprise to have our two eldest children and spouses with seven of our grandchildren in attendance. Also a former student of mine, from my teaching days at Maranatha Academy, was there with his wife and children – all living well for God. It was a special day of blessing and ministry for both Marilyn and me.

The ride home was much warmer with the temperature in the sixties and the trees in full color. It was a wonderful ending to the two-wheeled part of our ministry for this year.

Previous Ministering Highlights

SNOWMOBILES TO MOTORCYCLES ... AND BACK AGAIN - SPRING 2008

As I’m putting the final touches on this Newsletter and waiting for the rally flyers to be printed so they can be mailed out with it, it is again snowing outside. Not just a little snow squall, but a real honest-to-goodness blizzard – a Northeaster off of Lake Superior. We have fifteen inches on the ground so far with 40-50mph winds. Radio warnings of ice blown up onto the highways from Lake Superior and power outage announcements force me to adjust my plans. Just two days ago warm sunny weather had inspired me to fire up the motorcycles making sure they’d be ready to ride when the last of the mud firmed-up in our driveway so we could get out. Now I’ll have to plow again and wait once more for the snow to melt and the mud to dry. This flip-flopping weather reminds me of the distinct weather differences in the past sixty days of ministry.

I parked my snowmobile in mid-February and headed south of the border with a group of thirteen others to come alongside and assist the missionaries of Rancho Maranatha. It is a mission station located in the foothills of the Sierra Madres near Alamos, Sonora, Mexico. The resident missionaries are Dan and Ana Jones. Dan, a native Californian who came to Mexico to learn the language, stayed after meeting and marrying Ana. They are an excellent team and parents/teachers to the twenty-odd orphans who live on the station.

We had a lot to accomplish in a short time, so each day began at dawn with breakfast followed by devotions. Then we tackled varying tasks that needed attention on the ranch until it was time to leave for the villages where Dan and Ana held services. Six days a week they made the journey into the surrounding mountains to villages with names like

Los Monitos, Jusi Bampo, Tesia, Navahoa, San Antonio, and Oso Bampo. Some were relatively close-by while others were hours away on rough dirt roads necessitating our leaving in mid-afternoon in order to arrive in time for the services which began at sundown, after the days work was done. Attendance varied from fifteen to over fifty depending upon the size of the village and the distance people had to travel. Dogs scratching at fleas and bug-seeking chickens walked among us as Dan proclaimed God’s word. It was simple – and powerful.

Back at the station, each day we tied into the myriad of tasks that we knew Dan didn’t have the time for. His job was to stay in God’s word, study, prepare sermons and lessons, run the mission, and be a husband and father to his own children. We were there to take some of the pressure off so he could keep the main thing the main thing.

Well I remember the fall when motorcyclists supporting Marilyn and I arrived and spent a weekend helping us catch up on all of the work I’d had to put on the back burner during the summer’s rally season. What a blessing! My winter’s wood supply was hauled in, split, and stacked. The garage was raised, our old kitchen chairs received new coverings, and many more seemingly small items – but things that counted – got done. Now it was my turn to come alongside and help.

Our plumber went to work immediately repairing and replacing faucets and rerouting piping where needed, the mechanics went to work on the old Allis Chalmers D17, repairing a flat tire, giving it a much needed tune-up, and welding the attached brush mower to restore it to serviceable condition. Meanwhile the carpenters installed new bathroom vanities in the girl’s dorms. Six Seasons member Tony Fichter replaced the cowl on the Polaris Ranger with one manufactured using a new process that wouldn’t fade in the sun (the old one had turned pink). This machine was stretched expressly for the work on Rancho Maranatha so it could seat six (we used it that way often to get around the ranch). Polaris Industries liked what they saw and used this very machine as their prototype for it’s current Ranger Crew, which is now available in mass production. It’s a mission field innovation that has made its way into mainstream society.

With all of these activities going on I wondered how I could contribute? Well, God has a wonderful sense of timing and humor, and throughout our stay reminded me that my main calling is a two-wheeled ministry: I fixed bicycles.

Upon our arrival I had noticed two racks of bicycles sitting outside of the main ranch house and discovered that most of them were unrideable. Flat tires, broken sprockets, frozen chains, and other malfunctions kept them out of action. So I repaired flat tires by mounting solid rubber tubes into them so that thorns could not deflate them. I cannibalized chains, brake levers, and other useful parts to repair the better bikes. I had to chuckle when I realized that, no matter where I go, God is going to have me working with two wheels. The bonus was the thankful hugs from the girls whose bikes I repaired.

All too soon it was, "Adios, Amigos", and time to head back north across the border. I stayed over in Mesa, Arizona for a Six Seasons luncheon and then it was back to the snow country. Four days at home and then I headed north to Roseau, Minnesota. On Friday, Six Seasons member Chris Hamness and David Johnson and I rode into Canada on our snowmobiles. The temperature was just above zero when we stopped for lunch in Ridgewood, Manitoba – quite a different scene from the one I had just left earlier in the week. Our Six Seasons motto, "In all seasons…prepared", took on a rather literal feel at that point.

David Johnson is the inventor and co-founder of Polaris Snowmobiles. He is a very gracious man, unencumbered by his distinction, and whenever I hear people speak of David it is with favor. Christians who know him often say, "He’s a man of God". That statement most often precedes his credentials as inventor/cofounder. It’s a privilege to call him friend.

David’s idea of a short ride for lunch turned out to be over a hundred miles. Did I mention that David is eighty-five years old! He rides like he did when first I met him years ago. God has blessed him with long life and good health and an attitude that encourages. He gives me an example to follow.

The following day, as a group of us crossed Lake of the Woods to ride into the Northwest Angle, it was not quite so chilly. Not warm mind you, but not cold either. The temperature had risen into the twenties. Ah, spring was on its way. And so, with winter ministry closing, I pondered the things I had recently learned as I rode along:

- From Mexico: Coming alongside others in God’s kingdom work is a privilege. It reminds us that we’re not the only ones that God is using. It’s keeps us humble.*

- From the Canadian border country: stay flexible & ‘be prepared…in season and out of season." Two wheels or blowing snow – the work is Gods.

- From David Johnson: Don’t quit until God is done with you. Ride on…..>

I realized that I have gained a lot more than I have given. Now it's up to me to put these lessons to use…

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--- fall 2007

Rodeo Wreck Leads to Faith in Jesus

When Joel climbed onto the hurricane deck of that bronc he didn’t expect to get hung up. That happened all too often to bull riders and was one of the reasons he’d quit riding bulls a couple years back. He had gotten hurt badly on his last bull and had decided not to push his luck. Broncs were a safer ride, if that definition dare be termed appropriate for attempting to ride a rank untamed animal in front of a crowd just waiting to see how you fared in the attempt.

At his nod the chute opened, but somewhere down that stop watch’s long eight-second tick Joel got sideways on that horse. He became entangled in the rigging. His attempts to stay on had turned into a desperate struggle to get free. The wild eyed bronc pitched wildly around the arena alternately dragging and bouncing its entangled prisoner off the ground under his belly and ricocheting him off of fence posts.

The pickup-men finally manhandled the horse to a stop and freed Joel, but not before a parting kick to Joel’s head switched off his lights. All went black.

Up in the announcer’s stand we heard the crack of hoof colliding with skull. We saw Joel’s thrashed body go immediately rigid with one arm grotesquely extended…a sickeningly bad sign indicating brain trauma in some degree. It wasn’t an encouraging sight.

Joel regained consciousness as we were loading him into the ambulance. His worried wife and two wide-eyed children were standing beside his stretcher. He looked up and said, "I love you guys." I could tell that Joel wasn’t certain how bad off he might be and was covering all the bases. I prayed as we loaded him. Then I made certain that the ambulance driver knew Renee was following him to the hospital. No sense adding being lost to her trauma since she wasn’t familiar with the area.

Joel had been the second rider out of the chute on Friday night, the first of the rodeo’s four performances on Labor Day Weekend. He was in good standing in the points and had a better than average chance to win overall for the season….until now. His two remaining rides weren’t to be. We waited for word on his condition.

Saturday afternoon Joel, Renee, and the two children came walking onto the rodeo grounds. Joel was hobbling along on crutches. He was in a lot of pain, and would be laid up for some time, but he was alive. His injuries were not life threatening, but his riding season and his chance at the championship had been dashed.

We talked - about life, his career, and God. He was putting the puzzle together. God had been dealing with him for some time. He had questions: why, several years earlier, had his life been spared when a friend of his in the Cavalry had been killed right behind him? Why had his life again been spared during his bull riding wreck? And now once again. "Why, God? Why spare me?" were his questions. He sensed that God was speaking to him, that God had a plan for his life. He wanted to know what it was.

On Sunday morning Joel and Renee and their two children attended our Cowboy Church service. He told me that early that morning he and Renee had committed their lives to God. They were now determined to find out what He wished of them. I was able to connect them with a long-time friend of mine, professional clown Bill Isetts who lived near their home in Bark River, Michigan, for follow up. Bill and his wife Linda have met with Joel and Renee and are assisting them in finding a good church home for discipleship. Their journey has begun.

This is just one example among many of why we’re ministering. Whether at rodeos or motorcycle rallies, we’re there when people seek answers to the big questions. We have the answer in God’s provision of love and salvation through His Son, Jesus Christ.

Please keep Joel and Renee in your prayers; that God will lead them where He wishes them to be. Joel senses that it may be ministry of some sort. Pray for the solid foundation he will need for this calling.

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Spring - 2007

It's always fun watching little kids ride their first tricycles or Big Wheels. Remember the feeling of independence and triumph on piloting your first wheeled vehicle all alone? I find it equally fun observing older (over 60) kids back on three wheelers again as they convert their motorcycles into trikes. Eyes still twinkle with delight and grins are just as wide - if perhaps more wrinkled. And most of the ‘boys’ have gained something over the years: they are packing two-up now. They have their wives riding behind them. Smiles all around tell me they are still having fun – perhaps twice as much fun as they used to have. Some things do get better with age.

My twenty-year old son, Zeb, accompanied me this year to Timm’s Trike Rally in St. Charles, Minnesota the last weekend in May. He played his accordion and fiddle at Saturday evening’s bonfire sing-a-long and then again for the Sunday morning church service. I really appreciate Al and Jan Timm’s commitment to make their business venture provide an opportunity for riders to hear the gospel message. The service was well attended with standing room only in the dealer showroom. The message was well received.

Speaking of trikes and their advantages; Bob Huisinga was grinning ear to ear as he rode his trike into our Six Seasons Campout in Pinewood, Minnesota the following weekend. This well seasoned Harley pilot had no concern about the condition of the two miles of dirt road getting there as his three-wheeled Harley handled it well. No worries, mate. And Lennie, his navigator and riding mate of many years, wasn’t worried one bit. They were having the time of their lives. Did I mention that Bob is well into his eighties? They are an encouraging example for us all.

Ken Downey welcomed us to his homestead on that Friday evening and shared from God’s word. Sue Collins so challenged us during the Saturday morning devotional that we were ready to walk on water. We settled instead for stepping across the Mighty Mississippi River at its origin in Itaska State Park, the headwaters of that historical river, on our ride that day. Saturday evening God ministered in many of our lives: spontaneous Bible studies emerged from the topics of the evening message and continued on into the night where all eventually retired to the campfire and a sing-a-long.

I was on the road alone the following weekend heading north once again, this time for Roseau, Minnesota where I joined Tony Fichter and Chris Hamness on Friday evening. Saturday morning Tony led a well-planned ride from Roseau to the ABATE Rally in Greenbush, Minnesota with a lunch stop in Thief River Falls. We had nineteen motorcyclists following his lead. This is an old style ABATE Rally where they blew up and burned a Japanese-made motorcycle on Saturday evening. This was a groundbreaking effort with this group and many good contacts were made for future ministry. We must always remember: we have to earn the right to be heard. This was an excellent beginning. I really appreciate Tony’s work in laying out the ride and for Chris hauling down his trailer for us to sleep in out of the rain and mosquitoes. Their vision of ministry and future spiritual fruit is an encouragement and blessing.

It was back to the trikes again at Vern’s Backyard Bash in Blooming Prairie, Minnesota the last weekend in June. Dwight & Dolores Karsjens, Ryan & Karen Karsjens, Pete Nagle, Rick Twito, Jerry Hardy, Tom Griebling, and Kent Gildner joined me there. I really appreciated their support. I spoke on God being a God of new beginnings on Sunday morning. As Christians we must never forget the significance of what the gospel messsage offers: a new beginning with eternal implications. This is a novel idea to a hurting world.

I’m off again this week for the western states where I’ll be ministering at both secular rallies and helping new Six Seasons chapters get started. I hope to see many of you down this road of ministry as God leads us in His important task of preaching the gospel message of Jesus Christ.

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Fall 2006

Our Six Season’s events are twofold throughout the riding season: secular rallies where our goal is to present the gospel message to the lost, and Six Seasons events whose purpose is to equip the saints. These events are for instruction in God’s word, building up our faith, fellowship, and encouragement. These provide excellent opportunities for new Christians to become grounded in their faith and to become part of the body of believers.

Riding with other Six Seasons members for a common goal is encouragement in itself.

SOUTHERN MINNESOTA: On June 9^th Zeb, my nineteen-year-old son, and I headed south to Bricylin, Minnesota for our Six Seasons campout hosted by Joel & Renae Groskreutz. Instead of warm spring weather, we found ourselves in fifty-degree rain, which lasted most of the weekend. Fortunately we had facilities to accommodate; we moved into the church basement on Saturday and had a jam session in place of our outside games. The accordions, guitars, fiddles, mandolins, and harmonicas provided a memorable time of music followed by spiritual services and Bible teaching. Thanks for a great effort to Joel & Renae.

NORTHERN BORDER ADVENTURE: Zeb was riding with me again on June 23^rd dodging rain squalls as we headed to Bemidji, Minnesota and our lodging for the night at Ken Downey’s home. Running out of daylight and not wanting to hunt deer by motorcycle at night, we plunged through a final downpour into Ken’s yard just as it was getting too dark to see. It was cool enough and we were wet enough that we started a fire in Ken’s guest cabin stove to dry our gear as we slept.

The following morning Ken, Zeb, and I headed north to Roseau for our rendezvous there with our Six Seasons contingent. Sixteen motorcyclists followed Tony Fichter’s KTM along the Rainy River, which is the border between the United States and Canada, for a very pleasant 200-mile ride. It was obvious we were in Polaris’s hometown by the many Victory motorcycles in the group. Many view stops provided opportunity for fellowship and meeting new riders. Dinner at Rock Harbor Lodge on Lake of the Woods prior to our ride back to Roseau was a wonderful conclusion. Tony did a great job in laying out the ride. And Chris Hamness just couldn’t stop grinning; he was riding the new Victory that his wife gave him for their wedding anniversary. Now that’s really hitting the Jackpot!

Ken Downey commented afterward: "Lee, this is a tremendously enthusiastic group for our Lord and His work!" I’m praying for good spiritual fruit to come out of Roseau.

FAMILY PLANNING FOR GOD’S WORK. Our Six Seasons sponsored Indianhead Rally at Six Season’s headquarters was a great family rally and an encouragement to all who attended. The Twin Ports harbor cruise and dinner in Canal Park was enjoyed on Friday night. On Saturday two rides, a dual sport for those wishing to explore off the beaten path and a road ride were offered, volley ball and Frisbee were played by those who chose to stay at the rally site. Four services were conducted and people had a chance to hear from each of our Six Season’s evangelists present. On Saturday evening, Kent and Zeb provided us with an aerial show with their RC planes just prior to the hayride. There was something for everyone regardless of age with or without motorcycles.

This kind of rally is a great teaching tool for families involved in ministry together. Little can effectively illustrate and motivate children more than seeing their parents using their motorcycles and other sporting machines in God’s service rather than simply for personal pleasure. Actions speak louder than words. What the boy sees, the man won’t forget. This is excellent family discipleship.

BLACK HILLS CAMPOUT: This year we stayed at the JD Ranch in Piedmont. The locale was very central to most activities, yet provided a very quiet atmosphere in which to rest each evening. Our hosts were very gracious and spent many evenings visiting with us. Some very good ministry was accomplished with other campers. We had the opportunity to pray with several. Each day’s activities varied with folks going where they wished. Each evening we compared notes on where we’d been, what we’d learned, and the ministering accomplished. David Rambo’s new ‘Rambo Hilton’ (12x12 tent) proved to be a favorite shelter for fellowship during breezy or drizzly evenings.

BILLINGS, MONTANA was the site of our Six Seasons evangelists meeting in July.

Our Six Seasons bag piper Greg Holt and wife Joan acted as resident guides for our group. It was our last get together with Ron & Jean Paull before they moved to Alaska. Ron will be plying his trade of gun smithing in a bi-vocational manner as he pastors a local church on Kodiak Island. Port Lions is their port-of-call and ministry. Anyone in need of a hunting guide in Alaska? Six Seasons is now represented there.

*** Secular rallies varied in scope and size.***

NEW TESTAMENT MINISTERING IN THE 21^ST CENTURY: Cody, Wyoming:

"Hello, Louis. I’m calling to make certain that you and Sandra made it home all right. That was a long hot ride."

"Where are you calling from." Louis asked.

"I’m right where you left me," I replied, "standing in front of my tent by my motorcycle."

He hesitated a moment, and then laughed. I WAS standing just as he last saw me…but it was four days later and I was two states east of our last location. That’s a little of what a circuit riding preachers life is like; same gospel message, same tent and motorcycle, but different locales and different people.

Louis continued, " Lee, I’ve never seen ministry like we just completed. People were coming to us and they were really hungry for the gospel. What are we doing differently?"

"Nothing." I told him. "We are simply being obedient servants. When we are where He wants us to be the Holy Spirit can then move when He wishes. That’s what we are experiencing."

Indeed, the past several weeks of ministry had been excellent. It began with a long, fast, hot ride from Wisconsin to Wyoming (temps in the upper 90’s) at the invitation of the Christian and Missionary Alliance Church in Cody, Wyoming. They, along with several other churches in Cody, had a vision of reaching out to an outlaw motorcycle group that was holding their world convention there the last week in July and had invited us to work with them since we had more experience with motorcyclists than they did.

Each morning for four days the churches sponsored a free pancake breakfast in the city park. At 6 am the grills and tables were set up and breakfast was served until 9am…which was later extended to 10 am. The hopes were that some of the outlaw motorcyclists would attend and present an opportunity to minister. However, here’s where things took a different turn. During the next four days not one outlaw came….but local bikers, tourists, and law enforcement officers did. Our ministry was varied and good. The church folks did an excellent job.

However, as God so often does, our main event wasn’t His main event. That ministry began the evening we arrived…before the first breakfast was served.

Shortly after settling into our lodging on the evening we arrived we looked for a restaurant in which to have dinner. Granny’s had what we were looking for; old pickup trucks and motorcycles parked out front. Those are the best signs for the best food at the most reasonable prices – along with a chance to meet the locals. Walking in engaged us in instant conversation with local bikers. Before our first meal was finished David had joined us at our table and was sharing his life’s story. We returned the favor by sharing God’s word with him and found a very hungry man wide open for God’s leading in his life. We invited him to the breakfast that the church was hosting in the city park the following morning. He came. And that began a weeklong ministry at Granny’s that was right out of the book of Acts in development.

Tuesday night we met David and began ministering.

Wednesday morning David joined us at the city park for breakfast.

Wednesday evening David joined us again at Granny’s with other friends, a waitress, and later her husband.

Thursday evening Christian motorcyclists from the church came to Granny’s to meet David and see firsthand what was happening. On this evening the manager of the restaurant, who had seen us gathering each evening, approached us at our table and asked, "Would you mind if I joined with you in what you’re discussing? I’d like to be in on it."

On Friday evening David asked us to his house for a barbecue to which he had invited his unsaved friends for the express purpose of meeting with us. Good ground work for future ministry was laid.

Saturday evening we left Granny’s on a motorcycle ride up the south fork of the Shoshone River. This was the culmination ride cementing the relationships of new believers with old in the hope that good discipleship would take place when we had to depart for Sturgis the next morning. While at the top of the pass David’s phone rang. One of the fellows we’d met the night before had some questions for me. More discipleship!

Sunday morning culminated our stay in Cody as I preached at both services in the Alliance Church. It was an exciting time as I related some of what God had begun to do that week in men’s hearts. We left new Six Seasons members there who are hoping to begin a chapter work and be a viable presence in ministering during the tourist season.

Many tourists come to Cody and more are riding motorcycles every year. An employee with the tourism department told me that while overall tourism was down this season (gas prices was believed to be part of the problem) motorcycle tourism was up. That spells future ministry opportunities for those prepared.

LESSONS LEARNED ANEW: God’s agenda may differ from ours, but He can only work through us when Christians are obedient and move out in ministry. That is what the folks at the Cody Alliance Church did. They put action to their words and invited us to minister with them to a group of outlaws who were meeting in the their town for a week long rally. God ministered through obedient servants – but in more directions than we had planned.

STURGIS: The ministry of Sturgis was filled with divine appointments obviously arranged by God. For myself it included ministering the gospel with an Iraq veteran who was returning to duty within two weeks. His first child was due to be born while he was on duty. It is only when faced with the real possibility of death that we are often willing to seek God’s truth to find out what life is really all about. I was able to provide some of those answers to a willing learner.

While at the HOG open house in Rapid City, I met a man whose son had been shot two days earlier in Iraq. His son is recovering while two of his buddies were killed. This father, along with four others present, listened intently as I connected the dots between what was occurring in Iraq and it’s implications regarding the immanent return of Christ.

I had lunch with the leader of an outlaw organization one day in Rapid City. Alone, we talked of many things before coming to Christ, but he willingly listened to the gospel message and thanked me when we parted. God knows when a man’s heart is ready to hear the truth. That is why we pray for divine appointments - that God will lead us to those whose hearts he has prepared. When people aren’t ready, we must be willing to wait. We dare not pick green fruit. When we try, we often chase people away. There is a fine difference between being bold and being obnoxious.

Louis Holly experienced God using him in quite a different manner. While walking down the street in Sturgis, he noticed a young man of about twenty years of age wearing well known outlaw colors lying on the street, crying with a knife between his legs. He had been trying to cut off some tattoos on his legs. Louis knelt down beside him (he wanted him to know that he was willing to be down on the sidewalk with him….and not just talking down to him) and asked him, "May I help you?"

Immediately the young man looked up, saw the cross on the front of Louis vest, and embraced him. He said that at that very moment he had been asking for God’s help to keep him from killing his boss. He’d been in an abusive situation with his foreign boss and murder was not out of the question in his outlaw family. His was a very real prayer.

The Bible tells us that if we cry out to God He will hear our prayers. In scripture we find that God often uses either angels or saints in His answers. This time he used a willing saint. Louis was available and had been praying for God’s guidance as he sought out divinely prepared appointments.

This young man had committed his life to Christ a short while ago. Being raised in an outlaw family, he was trying to get out of a very bad situation. Louis was able to minister to him that day and then returned the following day and connected him with another saved outlaw who is discipling him. Mission accomplished.

TRIKES AREN’T JUST FOR KIDS: When I replied to Louis in our phone conversation that I was standing right where he last saw me, I was at Vern’s Backyard Bash in Blooming Prairie, Minnesota. This was Vern’s first trike rally and I was invited to preach the Sunday morning church service. Putting that third wheel on motorcycles is becoming the easiest way for older riders to continue to pursue their sport when they can no longer balance nine-hundred pounds of steel (plus passenger and gear) on two wheels comfortably. It’s one of the fastest growing segments of motorcycling - the Baby

Boomer’s solution to parking it. Many folks in their seventies and eighties were riding this weekend. In fact, two of our five Six Seasons triking couples present are in their seventies, one couple who camped next to me are in their eighties, with the others being in their fifties and sixties. I felt like the kid on the block.

A good number turned out for the church service on Sunday morning. The clear gospel message was very well received, and it was obvious that God touched a number of lives. Much more occurred that I choose not to relate here so as to keep confidences, but the Holy Spirit is continuing what began on that weekend. We were asked if we would return next year to minister again. We’ll be there.

DAVIS RALLY: The last large motorcycle rally of the season in the upper mid-west is in New Hampton, Iowa at the Davis Rally. Several thousand motorcyclists of every brand camp together for the season’s end time of fellowship and riding. Zeb and I picked up Mike Kelleher and Louis and Sandy Holly at meeting points along US 53 on the way down. This was Mike’s first motorcycle rally and the longest trip he had been on. It was fun to see him discover the joys of motorcycling. It was even more enjoyable to see him begin ministering with people at the rally when he discovered how easy people were to approach in this biking environment.

Ministry can come in many disguises and one of the unusual ones offered itself to Zeb on Saturday evening. The band that was playing the ‘golden oldies’ had no fiddle player and asked if he’d like to play with them. They had a spare fiddle. He accompanied them for the last half of their performance filling in well and leading several numbers. Recognizing his Six Seasons affiliation by his shirt, they asked if he’d like to lead with some Christian fiddle numbers. Zeb knew only a couple - and now realizes the need to learn more. Along with opportunity God always stretches us as well.

(This is dad’s note of confession: Zeb actually had his fiddle packed on the back of his motorcycle before we left home…and I made him leave it behind. I told him it was too hard on the instrument (in case of rain) and didn’t see a need for it. Next time I’ll know better than to interfere. I’m still learning too.)

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MEXICO MOTORCYCLE MINISTRY - spring 2005

The early April snow building up on my windshield wipers crossing into northern Wisconsin was making visibility limited. It was difficult to imagine that just two days earlier I was riding my motorcycle, now encompassed in snow on my trailer behind me, across the deserts of northern Mexico. I had just completed a 3,400 mile ride within that country – a 6,000 mile trip overall, ministering to fellow members of the local Harley Owners Group and with the indigenous people of Mexico.

THE BEGINNINGS

It all began when fellow members of our local Harley Owners Group (HOG) chapter asked if I would like to accompany them on a journey within Mexico during the month of March. Since I was planning on being in Texas for other events during that same time period this would work. The only problem I could see was that I currently didn’t have a Harley to ride. In the past I’ve always kept two motorcycles in my ministry stable: a Harley and a Gold Wing. Those two brands represent the major categories of motorcycle rallies where I minister, and like a well prepared carpenter with more than one type of saw at his disposal, they have allowed me to minister at those events. But since my ‘Hip National Bank’ hasn’t allowed me to replace my Harley yet, I told the fellows that I only had ‘brand X’ to ride. They said that would be no problem. So it was that, with the appropriate amount of razzing, the oldest HOG member among them (an eighteen-year life member and charter member of their own HOG chapter) would be the one riding a Gold Wing. God does have a way of humbling his servants – and that’s no reflection on the God Wing. It served me very well. I’ll replace the Harley as soon as funds allow.

So, with a little juggling of rally dates, I met the fellows at our jumping off place, the Super 8 Motel in Edinburg, Texas the evening of March 8^th. (A special thanks to Kent and Sally Gildner for their hospitality during our Six Seasons Texas Rendezvous, for the opportunity to speak at Bibleville while with them, and for storing my van and trailer in their driveway while I was in Mexico).

THE RIDE

We crossed into Mexico at Reynosa in the early morning and, after the laboriously slow paper work for both riders and motorcycles, headed away from the border where a number of Americans had been murdered and kidnapped in recent months. The current travel advisories from our embassy didn’t keep us out; they kept us alert.

The roads are long and lonely in the northern Mexican desert. In some places the road literally disappeared over the horizon behind and before us without a bend. Signs alerting drivers to drowsiness bred from boredom were posted regularly. Those road signs provided us a pass-time as we rode, trying to determine the meaning behind the Spanish words written on them. Our language school had opened, and before the trip was over, most of us could travel alone and barter successfully in the markets for what we needed.

While the desert temperatures ranged from the fifties to the upper seventies, depending upon the time of day, our route over the mountains to the Pacific Coast was our coldest riding with the mercury dipping into the upper thirties. As soon as we cleared the mountains, however, we were met by the Pacific sea breezes, which warmed us into the seventies and beyond. We would see no cold riding for the remainder of the trip.

The Pacific coast road is very windy and rough. We had to account for potholes, goats, cattle, pigs (domestic and wild), and iguanas, which would sometimes try to turn and snap at us as we rode by. No fast pace allowed here. And while one might expect the local populace to ride with the road and what it would safely allow speed-wise; FORGET IT! The easy going "man’ana" attitude evaporates when behind the wheel. Drivers pass whenever and wherever they wish. The rule is; honk and go. Three abreast on narrow two lane roads with traffic coming is no detriment. Passing on blind corners is expected and is all part of the riding experience in Mexico. It was good for one’s prayer life. Wrecks of buses, cars, and trucks alongside the roads showed the gory results. We came to understand why the insurance company insuring our bikes for the trip wanted a year’s USA premium for one month’s insurance in Mexico.

Our ride down the Pacific Coast took us as far as Puerto Escondido. At this point of our trip we were latitudinally south of Cuba, Jamaica, and the Virgin Islands. From here we rode east into the high mountains of southern Mexico. This was jungle mountain riding and the twisties here far exceeded anything any of us had ever experienced. After riding the first hour we looked at our speedometers; we had come 17 miles. For the next five hours none of us would hit fifth gear – most of our riding was in 2^nd, 3^rd, and 4^th gears. One rider actually got blisters on his hand from shifting so often. The 104-degree temperatures added to the challenge. The rider in front of me suddenly began flailing his arms and hitting his hands on the handlebars. Heat cramps were crippling him so that he couldn’t operate his controls properly. He was attempting to loosen up his hands. This was in spite of the fact that we hydrated regularly and often. I purchased more bottled water on this trip than I ever have before. Fortunately I incurred no heat-related problems.

It was with relief that we met the cooling effect of the Gulf of Mexico four days later. Temperatures had moderated from the inland heat to daytime highs in the eighties. However, a storm front moved through during our night in Veracruz and the following morning the turbulent seas were still crashing against the shore. Sea spray was splattering us a block inland; it was a struggle to keep the bikes upright, even while stopped at traffic lights. It was white-knuckle riding for the first couple of hours as we turned northward and back toward home.

Two days later as we neared the border of the USA, the roads smoothed out nicely and shoulders had been added and frequent gasoline stops were available. The landscape was also kept cleaner. For the first time in weeks I could pick up an English speaking radio station. And it was along this coast, about two days south of the border that one of the fellows yelled, as he checked out our evening motel accommodations, "hey, we’ve got toilet seats", something we hadn’t seen for a number of days. Ah, the small amenities!

THE ADVENTURE

I had prayed that God would open the doors to minister with the men with which I rode in a manner that would not be confrontational, but that would produce lasting fruit. God knows that we look heavenward most when we are facing difficult or dangerous situations. These were to become part of the adventure.

Breakdowns:

One Harley developed distaste for the heat while negotiating the crowded freeway going through Monterrey. It just up and quit running, leaving Don sitting on the freeway (there are no shoulders in Mexico) with his right shoulder up against the concrete sidewall of an underpass with traffic passing him at 60 mph literally inches from his left handlebar. It was such close quarters that he couldn’t even lean his bike onto the kickstand. The bike would restart after about a ten-minute cool-down time and run for anywhere from five to ten minutes before quitting again. The third time it did this I was stopped with Don and he said, "Lee, maybe someone should say a prayer to the Man upstairs." It was a dangerous situation. I didn’t hesitate. Putting my hand on Don’s shoulder I prayed, "Lord, You know what’s wrong with Don’s bike, but we don’t. Please help us to find a dealer that can repair it, or just fix it, but mainly I ask that you keep Don safe during these stops. I ask this of you because you said we could come to you…in Jesus name, amen." It was a simple prayer, but God was faithful in answering.

When Don’s bike next started we made it to a gas station and found a police officer mounted on a motorcycle. He led us to the newly opened Harley Davidson dealer in Monterey where they fixed Don’s bike at no charge…despite the fact that it was a five year old machine with over 30,000 miles on it. This answered prayer opened the doors to minister with Don as the trip progressed. It bore good fruit.

Banditos:

We were cruising along one morning when we came upon a state tollbooth on the highway. It was closed to toll taking for the Easter holidays. However, about thirty opportunistic men had decided that they would man the booth and collect tolls from passersby for themselves. They were prepared to coerce traffic to stop with spiked boards on ropes, a rather convincing method. With the odds at thirty to six…well, our daddy’s didn’t raise us to be fools. We smiled and laughed with them as we granted their ‘request’. Ah, Mexico! Commerce in its’ most efficient mode.

Health issues:

"Montezuma’s revenge’ can be an issue (pun intended) associated with travel in Mexico. The places we were traveling didn’t always allow us to eat in the better restaurants. In fact, most of our stops were at grass-roofed dirt floored ‘restaurants’ of the open door type of modest nature. Doors are not common or needed in southern Mexico. Eggs were gathered from the chickens out back and the meat (a lot of goat was on the menu) was provided for locally. By the time we reached Acapulco one of our amigos had become so weakened by his condition that he sought out a doctor who, for $200 US, gave him a shot in the backside and some antibiotics to relieve the situation. Being thus inoculated he then proceeded to eat anything. He got by with it.

*A note about the food: we noticed immediately that much smaller portions are served per plate than we’ve come to expect in America. Initially thinking that we’d have to be ordering seconds, we soon discovered that the portions served to satisfy our appetites quite well. We not only did not get hungry soon after eating, but coffee stops were not needed during the daytime to ‘top us off’. Several riders actually lost weight during the trip, yet we ate all we desired. What’s more, two of our riders who were diabetic watched their sugar levels drop significantly on this diet. What was missing? There was little to no processed flour and sugar in what we were eating. It’s too expensive. Bottom line: the Mexicans cannot afford to eat as poorly as we do in America. Obese Mexicans are rare.

The Police

Riding in Mexico can bring you upon roadblocks manned by Federali’s at any time. They most often have one fifty caliber machine gun mounted on a Jeep or other SUV type of vehicle covering you as you stop, and the soldiers carry ready battle rifles. The intimidation is effective; all are quite compliant to their demands for passports and vehicle documentation. They are all business. Smiles are not given away. Theirs is not a public relations role. And definitely no pictures are to be taken. The closest I got to photographing this part of the adventure was when a young, obviously green, private agreed to be photographed next to my bike. His superior officer abruptly squelched the idea. However, forever etched in my mind will be the green uniforms, the fifty on the Jeep, and the rifles they carried.

THE FRUIT

While experiencing motorcycle breakdowns, travel-related diseases, and close encounters of many kinds, a kindred spirit developed between us. That spirit of trust earned me the privilege of ministering not only with each of the men individually, but in concert on Easter morning. I conducted an Easter service for us in my motel room, reading the Easter story from the sixteenth chapter of Mark and related the consequences to man concerning what he chose to do with Christ. It was a fruitful time in God’s word.

I also had the opportunity to minister with quite a number of nationals. We discovered that not many Anglos travel deep into Mexico on large motorcycles. Indeed, we traveled where some of our bikes shouldn’t have gone…and some of them indicated it with sheared triple tree pinch bolts, etc. from the rough terrain traveled. But this meant that every time we stopped a crowd gathered to look at the bikes. This opened many doors. I ministered to and prayed with our landladies, merchants, indigenous tourists, and Christians. Of the many divine appointments I’ll relate two:

On our first evening in Guadalajara, while sipping my Coke with another HOG member who wished for a beer, I met the bartender of the establishment that we were in. I perceived that he was interested in spiritual things but was not able to pursue the conversation properly in our present company. So I slipped away from my amigos the next afternoon and sought out Saul at his place of work where the ministering worked its effect. Saul is a believer. When wondering what to do for follow up and discipleship for Saul I remembered that I know a missionary in Guadalajara. Kevin Haworth, a former Six Seasons member before going to the mission field, was a missionary there and was home on furlough. So upon returning home I contacted Kevin, he related the news to his fellow workers in Guadalajara, and I received this email from them just a few weeks ago. It reads (unedited):

Thank you for sending me this letter… I just contact Saul, his voice was so sweet. I said I was calling because a friend of him, a motorcyclists, ask me to do it… He inmediatly said: "Oh, yes, Lee! Sure"…

I even invited him to the 40 days of purpose and after talking with him for a while he told me he was sad because in that very moment he was in a velatory room because his brother died a few hours ago. I said I was so sorry and promised him I was going to talked to you to ask you to pray for him and his family.

We agree to give us a call again in a few days or in a week after he feels better.

He was so kind that I didn’t imagine what was going on in his life in that moment…

Please don’t forget to ask our God to hold him and strength him…

Thank you, Lee, for sharing a life in his way to follow our savior with us!

(Sorry for my bad English)

Lorena Benard

"Todo lo puedo en Cristo que me fortalece"

A different form of ministry was with a family of believers in southern Mexico. We were near Chiapas State, which borders Guatemala. Christians there have recently been hacked to death in their beds by machete wielding assailants. It’s a dangerous place to be a born again believer…something we don’t even think about in the States. They saw the Six Seasons sticker on my windshield and approached me carefully about it. They had never met a traveling evangelist before, much less one on a motorcycle. They kept repeating "You travel and preach just like Paul, the Apostle, in the Bible?" They were thrilled…and I was awed at the respect they gave to a ‘man of the cloth’. We had a very meaningful time together. I encouraged them in their walk with Christ and with the knowledge of God’s moving in the world today. Our time of prayer together was very special.

I left Mexico awed at the Holy Spirit’s leading and am very grateful for the privilege of being able to travel and share the gospel as I do. Thank you to all who are a part of this ministry. After all, it takes all of us...the senders and prayer warriors as well as the 'goers'.

RETURN

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