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 The Shenandoah Valley was a great place for a ride. But this early in the morning, and this time of year there was always a danger. It was hunting season, and the deer were in their rut. Jon noticed more than one carcass lying on the shoulder of the long stretch of interstate. Deer cause great damage to cars, but if Jon ever hit a deer on the bike he was done for.
Jon rode all day, stopping a few times to eat. Although his BMW was far more hungry than he was, causing him to stop every hundred fifty miles or so. Jon was headed to Boston, and he prayed every mile for good weather. So far he was getting it.
Jon couldn’t wait for some dinner. He remembered this nice little place in Milford PA it was a little out of the way, but he would just take the 81 to 80 to state 209. Then he would take state route 6 to I 84 all the way into Massachusetts.
The Apple Valley Restaurant would fill him up good, but he had to admit it was the apple cinnamon cheese cake that he was really craving.
As Jon sat at his table in that little restaurant, road weary waiting for his cheese cake, he hoped that someday he might be able to take someone special to this little out of the way place. He immediately thought of the woman he saw that morning. It was so early in the morning at that truck stop diner. And he hadn’t had much sleep since then. She almost seemed like a dream.
There it was in all its glory. The cheesecake to beat all cheesecakes. The cool ricotta based cheesecake with the warm apple crunch, and spices were perfect. Jon still smiling savoring his desert with a child like voice in his ear; “You gonna eat that? “
Jon needed a place to sleep for the night. Not far from the restaurant he had spotted an inn / steakhouse. It all seemed nice, but not over done. Perfect, that’s just his style.
The room was a hundred bucks a night, not bad Jon thought considering he hadn’t slept much anyway; it would have been the cost of two cheap hotels. This place was actually a little nicer than Jon had originally thought it might be. Yeh he was going to sleep good tonight. Jon double checked the directions on his GPS, called the front desk for a wakeup call for five thirty a.m., and without a third thought crashed on the bed.
Jon woke the next morning, not by the wake up call. But by the alarm clock ticking away inside his head. Jon always had a knack for waking up before the alarm. He seemed to always go to bed a little afraid of over sleeping. He reached blindly in the dark towards the night stand for his cell phone .With his head still buried in the pillow he surprised himself finding the phone one the first try. Little things like this seemed to make Jon’s day start off just right. Jon brought the cell phone to his sight and flipped it open.
“3:19 am “Jon was not a morning person, and it seemed like he was exhausting himself with the efforts of smiling. But he couldn’t help it.
One thing that Jon’s close friends and family always knew about him was his very close relationship with God. In Jon’s words “The creator of everything we can and cannot see.” The three o’clock hour seemed to be the time that Jon would hear God’s voice more clearly than any other time. It was never a voice he could hear with his ears, but rather a new knowledge that seemed to be instantly known. Sometimes Jon would just lay awake waiting. On occasion Jon would be so tired he would just roll back over and fall asleep not realizing what he might be missing out on. But Jon felt like he had a good night’s sleep. He rolled over on his back, clasped both hands behind his head as if he were being arrested. Jon just stared at the ceiling. His thoughts were deep enough had you seen him in person you would have thought he was looking through the ceiling into the sky at some unseen realm. Jon was very aware of where he was though. He was also very aware of where God was. And somehow at three o’clock in morning those two places seemed to weave themselves together with very little effort. Jon knew the anguish he was feeling, he knew God knew it to. He also knew the incredible feeling of peace and comfort that seemed to cover him. Jon learned very quickly that it was in those incredible times of peace that God was preparing him for something. Jon readied his thoughts, focusing on his day. He focuses on God in these moments absorbing as much strength as possible. Almost 26 hours earlier Jon had felt like a well prepared soldier going into battle, excited, and powerful as he left that truck stop diner the morning before. But in times like these he felt like, what he thought, Jesus might have felt, having the power of the universe in his hands, coming to serve with Love. Jon knew he didn’t have the power of the universe in his hands, but he knew he had it in his heart. Jon thought getting out of bed and starting your day like “ the creator of everything we can and cannot see “ would do might be a good way to get it done . Jon lay there for a little while longer just waiting. Even though it was two hours before 5:30 he realized very quickly it was time to get up.
Jon realizing he had left his pack strapped to the rear fender of the BMW got dressed in his clothes from the day before, and headed for his bike. He was very fortunate that Milford was a quiet little town. “Thank you, thank you “still sensing Gods presence. The pack was still there, not only that but it hadn’t rained. But there was a coating of frost on the pack. He brushed off the thin layer frozen mist, and released the small cargo net that was securing the pack to the bike.
The chilling effect of the body spray that Jon used seemed to counter act with the hot shower he just dried off from. Yeh he felt a little more alive! Jon felt like a new man all clean and shaven. Jon reached in his pack and pulled out his winter beanie that had an NFL logo on the front. Jon decided since there weren’t any helmet laws in PA that he would ride to the gas station down town helmet free. He would wear the helmet once he got on his way though. He never really felt safe without a helmet, but thought that the morning air would help wake him even more.
After checking out of the hotel around 5 a.m., refueling, and pulling into the local Turkey Hill for a breakfast sandwich Jon was on his way. Twisting and turning his rocket on wheels up route 6. Not far up the road would be the entrance for I 84. He couldn’t wait to get on the interstate, for he would be in Boston in a few hours. Jon was about ready to pull off route 6 when he saw the flashing lights. There was an accident on the freeway and the police were not letting anyone on. Jon knew the area pretty well; he would just ride up to the next town on the 6 and hook up with 84 there. That sort of thing didn’t bother him. It was a nice ride from Milford to Matamoras, the last town in PA before the NY border.
Jon and the BMW made good time of their unexpected detour. They were on the 84 in about 15 minutes. Being that there was an accident one exit behind him he thought it wise to keep the bike at the speed limit, as he expected there to be more state troopers on the road. Jon was right, he saw three police cruisers speeding in the west bound lane and one parked with its lights spinning on the shoulder of the east bound lane. Jon would bring the bike up to about 75 mph once he hit the NY boarder less than 10 miles away.
Jon was in a great mood considering his circumstances. Shoot he was in a great mood for any circumstance he assumed. Just crossing the NY border the BMW screaming past Port Jervis. Jon still felt his God with him. It seemed nothing could bring him down. That feeling alone re assured him that there was something in his day that was sure gonna try to. But he didn’t let it bother him. He just rode, rode in the careful watch of his saviors care. There was no greater feeling than being alone with God in the open air at almost 80 mph.
Four and half hours later Jon found himself in a little town just north of Boston. Tewksbury was nice, but he found himself missing Milford already. As he rode about 35 mph down Heritage DR. he was reminded of his own lifestyle and how this community didn’t remind him of anything about him. He rode to the end of the cul-de-sac and he could see the baseball diamond through the thick of the trees. This little neighborhood was in fact simple, however it had buildings that seemed to be shaped from the same “cookie cutter “as he put it. A neighborhood doesn’t have to be rich to have personality. Jon also knew that there are neighborhoods to suit all kinds of personalities; this one just didn’t suit his.
Jon slowed the bike to a stop. He turned the key shutting down the bike, and slipped off his helmet. It was almost 10 am now, and Jon was already feeling hungry for lunch, but he would shake it off. Jon just sat on the bike for a while with his right leg over top the gas tank and his left leg resting over his right leg. The sun had been on the rise for the last 3 hours or so, and Jon’s black helmet was rather warm. He placed his hands over top the helmet gripping it almost like a basketball. Jon could now start to feel the nervousness of the unknown. Men and women of the military go into nervous situations every day, but this was nothing like a military operation. In fact Jon felt guilty for feeling this nervous over something that now seemed so trivial. Yes what Jon was about to do was important, but it was far from life threatening?
Jon had a quick conversation with God assuring himself that He was there with him. He slid off his beautiful ride, helmet in hand tossing the keys in the helmet. He walked at a normal pace to a small row of houses nestled in front of the tree line that separated it from the baseball field. A row of 4 houses attached to each other. They all looked the same. Jon was hoping he wouldn’t be ringing the wrong door bell. He didn’t ever really need addresses as he usually went off of memory alone when coming back to familiar places. But in this case it might have been a good idea. It had been a time long since and almost forgotten.

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