by

Leo Crocker Rogers

This is likely a guy thing, but if you read to the end, it maybe a bit more.

Have you seen movies where a commercial jet liner has been escorted by fighter jets? First, the commercial jet is alerted that the fighters will be coming up on his six. Now the liner is traveling say 515 mph, but the jets are approaching at mach 1. A few clicks out-bound, the fighters pull back on their speed and then, so gently that a baby could not feel the touch, they creep up on the liner’s wing. The liner's pilot does see the entire fighter. He just sees the fighter jets as their noses ever so slowly begin to share his space. And then, then the fighters are there, established union.

This is just an inkling of what I am trying to share.

A better example is when you and Tom Cruise are flying F-14 Tomcats. You are two minutes ahead of Tom as you launched the carrier first. All is clear, blue sky, and open space clocking a lazy 750 mph. And then you feel it. A presence. Still blue skies and not a peep. Then the tip of a needle in your limited peripheral vision appears. It is creepy as Tom comes along side -- slowly sharing your space until you are together. It is eerie. Jointly you fire your after burners and point to 12 o'clock high making the earth fall like a ball. You are away. Zoom.

It was some fifty years ago, I was riding my Moto Guzzi Highway-Patrol-outfitted motorcycle from San Diego, California to Phoenix, Arizona. On US 80, I was on cruise control moving along about 65 mph. All was clear, blue skies and open space. I had not seen a car, truck, or rabbit for some 30 or so miles. And then, as I was relaxed and looking toward the highway ahead, I had a sense. I was not sure of what, but something was there. Now mind you, when one is wearing a Tom Cat helmet or a full face motor cycle helmet, one has limited side vision. Too, when the helmet has a #2 dark face shield, one is riding in the semi-shade. But I had the feeling. And then, then on my left side ever so slowly, and I mean an inch a mile, a shadow crept up on me. Finally, I glanced to the side, and I saw a highway patrol cruiser, well just his bumper. Then some more and a bit more. I returned looking ahead as it is always good to look where one is going. Eventually, my peripheral vision picked up ½ of his cruiser. So I looked to the side. He lowered his right window. I waited and looked away and then looked again. He used his gloved right hand in a top to down motion which I interpreted as his request that I slow down. So I turned to adjust my manual cruise control which required unscrewing a wing nut and then resetting the throttle to 60 mph. When I looked toward the cruiser for approval, he was gone. I mean gone, not ahead and not behind. Gone. Eerie. Mind you that when he came upon me initially, I would have seen him if he had been a few miles back and closing. What he had done was drop off an overpass and likely at some 100 + mph joined me without even a whisper. He came. He said his peace. He left. Eerie. Zoom.

When I purchased my 1400 Intruder motorcycle, many years after I had given my Moto Guzzi to my brother-in-law, I was on Interstate 10, driving my car with the owner of the new Intruder following me to deliver the Intruder my home. I was cruising along in traffic at about 65 mph when I had that feeling again. This time I looked to my left and saw nothing, but then I looked again and sure enough, there he was on the Intruder, creeping up on me. When he was along side, he motioned me to slow down for him, and so I did. This creep-join is spooky. Zoom.

The concept of being alone and then being joined but ever, ever so slowly is a strange, strange feeling. At high speeds, it is a feeling of being one of two eagles in a steep dive wing-to-wing bolting to the earth, slashing through the clouds, and with the ball getting larger and larger and we having no intent to slow. It is unique. Zoom.

This brings me to a few days ago. Two of us on different motorcycles were heading south in the direction of Mexico. His motorcycle was an 800 + pound machine. My Intruder is a light-weight 440 pounds with the tires wet and the saddle bags full of grapefruit. He was in the lead. Many miles passed. And I was on his five with all being well near the speed limit of 75 mph. The traffic was considerable with cars, trucks with horse trailers, and 18 wheelers being only semi-spaced. Others were traveling faster than we. We were in the slow, right lane. When we were held up by a slower truck, my friend broke loose, changed lanes and went around the truck. There was not room for me to follow. So for a considerable time I was lane-locked. By the time I could go to my 9, he was long gone. In a while I was able to change lanes also, and I too was in the fast lane. It was fast, up to 85 mph at times. I hung tight. A light motorcycle gets knocked around quite a bit when entering into and exiting the wind shafts of 18 wheelers. Even so, I held the mark. And then I saw him ahead and in the right lane, but my lane was at closing speed which made maneuvering to rejoin him critical in both space and time. I throttled to 90 mph to give me separation from those behind me and to move head of those on the right. I then precisely, carefully, and without the notice of a grass hopper on a corn stock , slipped slowly into the grove behind and on the 5 of my friend. What a feeling of road perfect flight. There was buffeting, leaning, cooperation of others, and raw speed all in concord. It might be that my friend never knew I was gone. I was there, then I was not, then I was, without a wrinkle in time or space. Zoom.

Speaking of wrinkles in time and space. Here is a thought. A single person, male or female would like company, thinking that two individuals in the same kayak can row father than each in his/her own kayak. This, seeming logical, there is the question, "Who might the other person be?" Well there are scads of paths to find another. Social clubs, web-services, radio services, church groups, singles gatherings, and on and on including well meaning neighbors, friends, and not to forget relatives. But those paths are the vision of others, not the least of which is the potential other person. So what works? Well, the solution goes right back to "coming along side, slowly, in the same direction, and at the same speed". How does this take place? Well, each morning, the person desiring company hits the deck bright and early and sets about being the very best person he/she knows how to be. This can be at the job, volunteering, hiking, cycling, being a mother without a husband or a dad without a wife. In the process of living the life that represents who they honestly are and doing the very best they can, they are happy in their pursuits. This is to say they are in the air, level in flight, and knowing where they are going. If then, under those conditions, that person feels, but does not see, the presence of another creeping up just a nose at a time, slowly, and with care to be perceived without being invasive, then that person just might glance to the side and find another who launched that same morning with similar objectives (that is why they are at the same altitude and flying in the same direction as the other) working, volunteering, hiking, cycling, or being a parent. When the other person does come along side, he/she may roll down their window, or as in Top Gun, may invert and fly canopy to canopy with you, to say "hello". Why is this so strikingly good? Because the other person is already aligned with the purpose, direction, and speed of the party of the first part. There is no cajoling, convincing, over-pleasing, or money spent to join. It is natural. Then together, the two can fire their afterburners and head for heaven or one can do a peel off to fly solo again. Either way, meeting without motive is as sweet as flying at mach 2 side by side absolutely confident that the other is as well suited for the flight as are you. The wrinkles of time and space were the same for both.

Zoom zoom.