lindberg's criswell tribute #3

[Martin Earl]

Ross Lindberg tribute to Ron Criswell:

Part 3-

I would like to remember Ron him by telling you a couple of my favorite

Memories. They are experiences that I treasure and replay in my mind over and over again.

Ron and I first met on a motorcycle trip to [revmaaatin s] South Dakota [KLR motorcycle rendezvous] and we immediately became friends. While it had been a long-time dream of

mine to ride in the Black Hills, I was out of my element. I spent the vast

majority of my life living in Minnesota where the land is flat and the

roads are straight. I had no idea of how to ride up and down hills.

Curves? What are they and how do I negotiate them? As the other riders were far more experienced, I struggled to keep up and fell behind.

Ron s character shone through as he was always watching out for me,

and made me feel like a welcome and valued member of our group. He

was always watching out for me and asking Where is Ross? If I was

struggling, he was encouraging me and giving me some helpful tips. If I

seemed tired at a rest stop, he would distract the others with a funny

story when it was time to go to give me a couple more minutes to rest.

He was always looking out for me, and his gesture showed the true

measure of his character. It is a gesture that I appreciated and will

never forget.

The last day we were riding it was unbearable hot. It was 102 degrees

and we as a group decided that we had enough riding for one day. We

were heading back to the house. The rest of the guys were in a hurry to

get back for cold beer and warm BBQ and before long I was once again

falling behind.

I wasn t concerned at first as the other bikes slowly pulled away. After

all, as long as I could see the dust they had thrown up I knew which way

they were going. But after a few miles I realized that I could no longer

see any dust and was going to have to pick up the pace.

I screwed up my courage as well as the throttle, but it wasn t enough. I

was still falling behind. Pushing far beyond what my comfort and skill

levels allowed, I started to reel them in. Far ahead I could see the faint

evidence of dust in the air. I was catching them! Finally I could see the

tiny image of a motorcycle far ahead and I pushed myself to catch it,

with the heavy, ungainly motorcycle pitching and sliding beneath me.

Finally I got close enough to recognize the rider. It was Ron! My dear

friend had realized that I was struggling yet again and felt back from the

rest of the group to wait for me! I was thrilled at his selflessness and

also at me new-found confidence with the bike, however my joy did not

last long. The rest of our group had pulled off the road and were

waiting for us. As Ron and I pulled up he turned to me and said Take a

look at my back tire. I think something is wrong with it as the back end

is sliding all over and I can hardly keep it on the road. Sure enough, his

rear tire was completely flat and my new found confidence

immediately evaporated when I realized that I couldn t even keep up

with an old guy with a flat tire.