I put on a T-shirt the other day, and it said “Stick’s Tavern” on it. It reminded me of one of my favorite stories. In about 2011, I decided to ride a motorcycle across the United States and hit all 48 States in one month. I was going to start and end in Jefferson, so I plotted a route that stayed on all back roads, which was about 9,000 miles. The plan was to ride 300 miles each day for 30 days; I finished it in 33 days. The crazy part of this goal was that I had never ridden a motorcycle except for a small dirt bike in the pastures of our farm as a kid. I bought a Yamaha 1100 and learned to ride during the trip. When I was in Rhode Island, it was raining like crazy. I had all of my camping gear, food, and clothes in dry bags on the back of my motorcycle, but really didn’t want to camp in this rain. I stopped at a “Dunkin Donuts” place to get some hot coffee and take a break from riding in the rain.
I walked around the place asking the customers if they knew of a church in town. I planned to contact a church, tell them I was a Pastor from Oregon, and ask if I could sleep in their church. The second guy that I asked was a bit grumpy and asked me why I was looking for a church. I pointed out the window at my motorcycle and explained what I was doing. He got all excited when he heard my story, and he said, “I have a Biker’s bar, and we have two rooms with beds and bathrooms for guys who get too drunk to ride their motorcycles home, so they sleep it off in one of those rooms. You are welcome to stay in one of them if you like. I followed him to his bar and helped him clean up one of the rooms; it had recently been used and smelled like puke. He took me out to dinner, and we talked late into the night, mostly about his problems in life. I talked to him about the Lord, and he promised to start attending a local church. I don’t know if he ever did. The next morning, as I was leaving, he gave me a T-shirt with his Tavern logo on it, “Stick’s Tavern.” Stick was his last name. That T-shirt has lasted a long time.