A Most Extraordinary Gentleman

Being a Recounting of an Event of a Surpassingly Exceptional Nature as befits A Christmas Tale

By Jeffry L’H. Tank

I recently had a most unusual experience in early November during a mid-week ride along Skyline Drive in the heart of the Blue Ridge Mountains. It was a particularly apropos event in light of the ensuing Yule Tide season. I realize there may be some skeptics out there who will claim that this report is the result of an overly active imagination or a few souls who will dismiss it as the mere ramblings of a lunatic. Yet rest assured, dear reader, that I have endeavored to recount with utmost care and accuracy the event that transpired on that frosty November afternoon. As those of you who have followed my writing for the past 2 years know, I have never mislead or deceived the readers of VirginiaWind, and I certainly have no intention of doing so now.

With the main tourist season well over I decided to enjoy a leisurely ride through one of my favorite areas of Virginia, the Blue Ridge Mountains. After a pleasant hour riding along the first 30 or so miles of Skyline Drive I pulled off at my favorite overlook, Thornton Gap. I parked my bike and then walked down the short path to a rock outcropping that I had unofficially named Philosophers Rock a few years ago upon discovering it for the first time.

I had been sitting there for several minutes when I heard the sound of another motorcycle pulling into the parking area. A minute or so after the sound of the engine had died away, I heard footsteps crunching on the gavel path leading up to where I sat, and a moment later a rather large, cheery faced gentleman of indeterminate age came into view around the side of the rock outcropping. Upon seeing me sitting there he inquired if I would object to sharing the rock and the view of the valley below. I, of course, informed him that I would be happy to share both. As he proceeded to remove his helmet, a rather voluminous quantity of thick white hair cascaded down to just past his shoulders. He then opened the front of his riding jacket to revel an equally impressive pure white beard, a beard that would have made even the guitarists of ZZ Top jealous. Finding an inviting spot in the curve of the rock face, he sat down a few feet from me. His cheeks were rather rosy of complexion, which I took to be from the briskness of the ride, it being the middle of November, and his skin was well weathered as you would expect of someone used to being out of doors or who had spent time living in some of the harsher climates. And, too, I couldn’t help noticing a certain twinkle in his deep-set eyes that flashed beneath two rather bushy brows.. His whole appearance spoke at once to me of someone who was not only happy with life, be it work or relaxation, but someone who found the greatest pleasure in every task and living thing, no matter how simple or mundane it might appear to others.

After taking a seat, he extended a broad, well weathered hand toward me and introduced himself simply as “SC”. “Hmm,” I thought to myself, “could this be…?”, then quickly dispatched the outlandish thought from my mind, and in the spirit of his somewhat secretive introduction, I introduced myself simply as “RM”.

He asked me if I’d ridden Skyline Drive before and if I was familiar with the area in general. I informed him that Skyline Drive was one of my favorite destinations and that I knew the surrounding area quite well. When I posed the same question to him, he said that though he had “flown” over it numerous times, it was the first time he had ridden through the Blue Ridge Mountains by motorcycle; though having discovered them he hoped to come again to enjoy some of the other seasons in the area. Naturally this lead to an in-depth dissertation (by myself) of all the splendors along the Blue Ridge, including the surrounding mountains and forests that I have become so intimate with in the past years of riding. I must say, he was very gracious and let me ramble on for quite some time, as is my want when I get started on one of my favorite subjects and the Blue Ridge Mountains have always been high on my personal “top ten” list!

I then inquired where he hailed from, and in reply he made a vague sweeping gesture with his hand and stated simply “North”. The emphasis he placed on the word North made me ponder again for a moment my earlier thought, but then I once more quickly dismissed the notion as just too ridiculous. Surely I was merely caught up in the moment, his infectious smile, and I was, no doubt, being unduly influenced by thoughts of the coming holiday season with it’s promise of good cheer and plentiful spirits.

We continued to talk for quite some time on a wide variety of subjects, and the more we talked the more impressed I became with his knowledge of the world and all manor of things that existed within it. Technology and History seemed especially of interest to him and he often spoke of historical events as if possessing an intimate, almost personal, knowledge of them. He was also extremely well versed on the politics of many nations, their laws and customs. I got the impression he was very well traveled, which he confirmed by informing me at one point that he had traveled extensively and had visited every inhabited continent, as well as Antarctica. And all the while as we talked there remained on his face the broadest, most pleasing smile that extended well beyond his mouth to encompass his entire visage. When He laughed, which he often did during our conversation, it was a deep, earthy laugh that began deep within his ample frame and rolled forth with such momentum that it shook his entire body and echoed a good way down the valley that extended below us.

As we conversed, I discovered that he owned and operated a large manufacturing company that had been in existence for a quite a number of years, though I could never pin him down as to just how long it had been in operation. Neither could I extract any information pertaining to it’s exact location or product line. He would respond simply with “very diversified” to any inquiry as to product, and evaded entirely any attempts on my part to discover it’s location. It was becoming evident that when it came to certain personal information, he was reluctant to give too many, if any, details. This I simply chalked up to the unfortunate trend of the current century, wherein a certain degree of caution is well advised in these often troubling times.

As the talk turned once again to motorcycling, this time brought on by him rather than myself, I asked him how long he had been riding. He seemed more willing to discuss this area of personal data and informed me he had been riding for just over 15 years. I remarked that was about the same time that personal computing really started coming into it’s own, to which he replied that indeed that had lead, in large part, to his becoming involved with motorcycling. As he explained it to me, prior to the advent of computers compact and efficient enough for general business use such as accounting and inventory, the running of his “Enterprise” as he sometimes referred to his business, had consumed all of his waking hours. The pursuit of other interests or taking personal time away from the many tasks involved in running a large organization had simply not been possible. However, with the availability of such processing power as had become feasible in the mid 80’s, he began to have more and more free time and with the aid of the constantly evolving communication technologies of the 90’s, he was able to check in on his business from almost any point on the globe. So it had come to pass that he was able to expand his horizons and he had found motoring to one of the best ways of traveling and exploring the world and enjoying it’s many marvels. His travels prior to that had been strictly of a business nature to, as he put it, service his “customer base” and ensure delivery dates were met.

After a time though, as so often happens in situations where individuals meet in such surrounding as Gaea affords those who wish to experience them, the conversation slowed until we both fell silent, each to our own thoughts. As I sat there reviewing our conversation and looking down upon the valley, I felt that familiar sense of peace and inner harmony I have often felt while sitting in some quiet, natural setting. Somehow though, this time was different, it was much more intense than ever before; it washed over me in gentle, yet forceful waves and the very rock beneath me seemed to be slowly awakening, and radiating with a happy glow of it’s own. As I happened to glance in the direction of my companion, I was left with the impression that he was the source driving that increased awareness. The look of compassion and warmth on his countenance mixed in with all the other sensations washing over me and heightened the experience all the more. “A truly unique individual”, I thought to myself. “Even the very rock on which we sit seems to have an awareness of his presence.”

I noticed too, as I looked in his direction, that he had produced a PDA from somewhere about his personage, and was now staring rather intently at the display. As he read the contents thereof, he mumbled short phrases under his breath, phrases that as best as I could make out, sounded like “Oh my!” or “Good, good, very good”, mixed in with an occasional exclamation of “Excellent!”, or a soft “Hmm, well now”. Every once in a great while he would utter something that sounded very much like “Oh, dear, what a shame” or “Certainly not!”, at which point he would make some notation next to an entry on the PDA’s display. Finding this all very curious I tried to catch a glimpse of the display screen, as my suspicions about who this character might be were once again forming in the back of my mind. Unfortunately, with the setting sun shining low in the sky, and since we sat facing west, I could not clearly view the contents of the screen, though it did appear to be some sort of rather lengthy list. I once more dismissed the preposterousness of such notions as had been stealing in to my mind and said to myself, “Time to go or you’ll soon be seeing angels, fairies and elves dancing among the trees!”

As I started to rise, my companion also rose and we proceeded together up the short path to the parking area. Soon we were ready to depart, the bikes having warned up, and it was time to bid adieu to my erstwhile companion of the past few hours. We shook hands once more and wished each other well. I stood there watching him ride off south along the parkway and just as he rounded the first curve, I heard a faint yet hearty “Ho! Ho! Ho!” and an even fainter, yet equally robust “Merry Christmas!” echo off the cliff face as he disappeared from sight around the bend.

As the realization of whom I had spend the past several hours with slowly began to filter through the barriers of Logic and that self-deception of Adulthood, wherein we teach ourselves that such things or beings can not exist, those barriers came crashing down around me, leaving me naked and exposed to a whole new array of improbabilities. I stood there for several minutes, as if frozen in time, while my newly awakened ability to Believe enveloped me. Now once again, as in early childhood, I was able to accept the incomprehensible and believe in the unbelievable.

Then, I too, climbed aboard my machine and headed north up the parkway toward home. As I rode into the cooling evening, with last of the sun’s rays filtering though the barren trees to the west, and while the first stars danced above the horizon to the east, I was filled with a renewed sense of wonder of the world and a greater sense of joy than I have had for many a year. As a result of that short time spent in the mountains with that rather magical gentleman, my heart and body were now filled with a revitalized warmth. Warmth that even the descending temperatures of the onslaught of night could not cool. And because I now carried a vision of his face within me, a face so full of compassion, I too, found I was able to share the depth of his compassion for all living things, a compassion that no amount of suffering or disheartening news could ever dislodge. I know now that I will remain forever the better for that brief encounter.

Thus it happened on that chilly November afternoon, amongst the ancient peaks of the Blue Ridge Mountains, where magic came once more into my life, and having duly recorded that most extraordinary event upon these pages, I share them with you now. So once again, dear reader, I implore you, take this account to heart, and know that I have made every effort to produce this record of my meeting with that Most Extraordinary Gentleman without encumbrances or embellishments of any kind; in a most truthful and as honest a fashion as my meager skills with the pen allow me, while my mind yet struggles with the magnitude of such a humbling experience.

So to all who chance upon these words, may the holiday season bring you Joy and Happiness and may all your Wishes come true. May your Hearts be filled with Love and your Lives filled with Beauty and the Closeness of Family, now and for all days to come. And wherever you’re out riding, if you ever encounter a rather portly, white haired gentleman astride a bright red motorcycle with white trim, remember to wave, because, you just never know….

© Jeffry L’H. Tank

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