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Sunday, July 7, 2019

My Uncle Ronald Frye - The Thousand-mile Motorcycle Miracle

On July 21, 1999 my uncle Ron wrote these words to his daughter: 
I've just returned from my Canadian motorcycle trip, and I wanted to place on paper my thoughts of the trip before they are dimmed by a failing memory. I am very emotional right now, and have been for the last couple of days. You see, I've been the recipient of rich spiritual blessings, and a modern miracle. I don't know if you'll agree with me, by the time you've finished this letter, for you see, words are totally inadequate in expressing such feelings and experiences... The trip can best be described as one of extremes... emotional, physical, spiritual [...]

With his permission, I share an adapted account of the experience close to the 20-year anniversary of his arrival. He had left for his trip on July 6, 1999.


Ronald West Frye: 
The Thousand-mile Motorcycle Miracle 
Manning Park, B.C., Canada, to San Ramon, CA, USA

People familiar with the Bible will remember the New Testament story of Jesus miraculously feeding 5,000 people with just five loaves of bread and two fishes (Matthew 14:13-21). In that story, enormous consumption miraculously never depleted the small supply. Could such a miracle happen with a motorcycle engine and motor oil? For me it did on a 1,000-mile journey that I’ll never forget.


Virago XV535 motorcycle
On Tuesday, the 6th of July, 1999, I left home on my sweet, highly-customized Virago XV535 motorcycle. I had joined a local chapter of the Virago Owner's Club, an international organization. There was going to be a “ride-in” for Virago owners to be held in gorgeous Manning Park in British Columbia, Canada. And even though I was 53 years old and riding alone, I was on my way.

I took two-and-a-half days to ride the 1,000-plus miles. I chose a route that would bring me through the east entrance of the park. My final stretch was on Highway 3, one of the most beautiful and enjoyable roads I have ever traveled! The curves are long and sweeping, the pavement smooth, and the scenery absolutely spectacular, with towering mountains on both sides of the road! Guard rails are seldom used on the road, therefore much more is seen, and the plentiful, colorful wildflowers and grass hug the shoulder of the road, making it appear as though the area was naturally carpeted. This road runs along the base of a long mountain valley with its glistening river and foothills thick with trees.

In that final stretch, the July heavens were alive with patches of bright, baby blue sky playing hide-and-seek through billowing clouds; some white, some gray, some pink, and some dark—almost black—ready to burst forth their load of rain. That spectacular sky became accented by brilliant lightning flashes and rolling thunder. Breathtaking! It was difficult to concentrate on the road with such visual splendor! It began to rain, but I didn't mind. This was an adventure and experience of sights and smells I had never had before, and I was going to enjoy every exciting second of it!

Once in Manning Park, I joined the other members of Virago Owner's Club for three days of magnificent, two-wheeled adventure and discovery in the Canadian Rockies.

Entrance to Manning Park, British Columbia, Canada
Manning Park, British Columbia, Canada

Somewhere along the way, my sweet Virago XV535 turned a little sour. An oil seal had burst in one of the engine covers and it was leaking oil. This caused me a great deal of worry, and I asked for advice from the local experts that were part of the club. I was told to watch it very carefully on the way home; if it became worse, I'd have to stop and have it repaired. That would mean waiting somewhere for the needed part to be ordered and hoping the mechanic knew how to work on a Virago.

For me, this problem would pan out to be a modern-day version of the miracle of "loaves and fishes,"—or, in my case, the miracle of the “motorcycle engine and motor oil.”

On Saturday, the final day of the club’s ride-in, we had breakfast at the "Chaps" restaurant. After breakfast, we said our good-byes and dispersed from the restaurant at about 1:00 PM, all going our separate ways home … except me. My Christian faith is very important to me, so I decided to stay an extra night at Manning Park in order to avoid traveling on the Sabbath (Sunday).

Meanwhile, my worries about the bike became overwhelming. My oil tank only held three quarts. Given the rate I was losing oil, I was certain I wouldn’t get very far before the oil was gone, my bike’s engine would seize up, freezing the rear wheel, and I would be thrown face-first onto the highway at 70 miles-an-hour. I can remember specifically pleading with the Lord in prayer that the oil leakage would not be a problem.

On Monday morning, I started westward for the town of Hope (an appropriate first stop under the circumstances). As the bike warmed up, the oil once again began streaming from the gasket seam, and boy did it stream! It streamed all the way—42 miles—to the little town of Hope. At the gas station I checked the bike’s oil level, and surprisingly it registered “full.” “Hmmm. It must have been overfilled," I thought. How else could there be a large pool of dripping oil beneath the bike and still have a full oil tank?

A Serious Oil leak
I had originally planned on riding home via Vancouver Island, BC, and then down the scenic coasts of Washington, Oregon, and California on highway 101 and 1. But because of the problem with the bike, I decided to take the quickest, most traveled routes: 5, 505, 80, and 680.


About every 100 miles for two-and-a-half days, I stopped for gas. Between each 100-mile leg, the oil streamed and streamed from that broken seal, covering the rear of the bike and making quite a mess of things. In fact, oil began to coat the tread of my rear tire, and at several stops I had to find a car wash with a power sprayer to clean the tire so I wouldn’t lose traction. At each stop, I would fill up with gas and my heart would sink every time I saw the large pool of oil forming under the bike. Yet incredibly, every time I checked the oil level in the engine, it always read "full," all the way home!

Except for a very long trail of oil from British Columbia to San Ramon, CA, there were no serious problems along the way. I felt like kissing the ground upon arriving home. And the level of the oil after more than 1,000 miles? ... As usual, it read “full!”

I took the bike to a repair shop 25 miles from my home. In those few miles, it had lost over a quart of oil, one-third of its three-quart capacity! The mechanic looked with alarm at the large pool of oil building under my parked bike. When he started it up, more oil streamed from the gasket, just as it had all the way home from Canada. Whoa! he exclaimed. At that rate you won’t get very far!”

I didn't have the heart to tell him it had been that way for over a thousand miles, never having to add a drop of oil, the level always registering “full!”

I’m convinced that two things played a key role in this miracle of the motorcycle engine and motor oil: prayer and keeping the Sabbath Day holy. A Bible passage in Isaiah 58:13-14 seems to express my miracle perfectly:
13 If thou turn away thy foot from the sabbath, from doing thy pleasure on my holy day … not doing thine own ways, nor finding thine own pleasure …
14 Then shalt thou delight thyself in the Lord; and I will cause thee to ride upon the high places of the earth …
With age I have become more and more frail, and keeping an 850-pound motorcycle upright became more and more difficult. For this reason, I very reluctantly gave up my beloved hobby. The sweet bike was sold and the insurance canceled.

But this is a story of what I consider to be my own personal version of the Lord’s miracle of the loaves and fishes—enormous consumption [leakage!] miraculously never depleting the small supply. I’ll never forget it! In fact, even decades later, I cannot think of this experience without becoming extremely emotional. Like Isaiah promised, God let me ride the high places of the earth … one of the greatest experiences of my life. I am truly humbled and grateful, knowing first-hand that Heavenly Father cares about me!

Ronald Frye (left) at Manning Park, British Columbia, Canada


***

Source:
A Lifetime Remembered, A Lifetime Forgotten - An Autobiographical Sketch of the Life of Ronald West Frye
Adapted by James E. Hartley, brother-in-law to Ronald Frye. Reviewed and approved by Ronald Frye. Posted by Tom Hartley, nephew to Ronald Frye.

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