A Mountainous Heart in Memphis

Nearly four years ago I loaded all of my belongings onto a moving truck and set due west, Memphis bound. I was anxious, perhaps frightened. I was leaving a lot behind. Three and a half hours is not far from home but it’s more than I’m accustomed to. (I stress the half part because the last thirty minutes of the drive tends to be a bit taxing.) I was aware there would be some adjustments, but I did not know exactly what I was in for.

I am from middle Tennessee, not to be mistaken with East Tennessee where you find plateaus and mountains, but a place where many “rolling” hills exist. I invested most of my childhood on a farm surrounded by farmland, wilderness, and wildlife. I grew up in a small town, as a country boy. Actually, I was quite reluctant to find an interest in cycling and running. Very few people in my hometown subscribed to such activities. After I discovered a love for endurance sports I quickly found out that I had been blessed in a training mecca, a region populated with hills, trails, state parks, and vast wilderness. “Why have I not been doing this all my life?” I thought. That is a different story for a different time. Nevertheless, there was plenty of rich training ground, waiting to challenge any stimulated athlete.

After hearing a call to ministry and knowing for certain that Memphis Theological Seminary was in the cards, I knew the move was inevitable. I even tried to deny it. I thought about commuting like many students do. I could stay in Memphis two days a week, take classes, and voyage back home. I certainly could have done that. Many students take that route. But, you see, a call from God is not like a call from an old friend. You can argue with your friend. When God has a plan, God will let you know. God did not speak to me in an audible voice. I would not have heard that. God spoke to me in a way that I could hear. Nothing else worked. God made me stumble, fall, trip up, hurt, struggle, until I just fell into the place God wanted me. Thanks be to God.

I arrived in Memphis in mid August with a loaded moving truck. My mom, dad, brother-in-law, and best friend came along to help me unload. After my belongings were moved in, scattered around my small duplex, they departed and there I was, alone with my dog. I was in a new place and a new part of my life had begun. If I said I was not frightened I would be lying. I needed an immediate fix. A trip to Kroger and a large grocery bill will always make me feel right. Besides, there was not a drop of beer in the house. My favorite IPA would do the trick. The trip to the store was disastrous for one reason. It seems that microbrews in Atlanta don’t stretch their arms as far as the Mississippi. I came very close to calling Sweetwater Brewing Company and giving them a piece of my mind. How dare they not ship my favorite beer to Memphis! I went home with my groceries and a six-pack of whatever.

After working up the nerve to ride my bike around mid-town I went on a journey looking for some back roads and elevation. After riding an hour, I found some rough, tar-gravel roads that reminded me of home. Elevation? That’s hilarious. I am in the flat lands. What’s to expect? There are some small hills and I have discovered that enough repeats will serve the purpose. But, the days of leaving the house for a two-hour ride to do nothing but clamber over your two favorite passes was over.

Another element I discovered about this foreign place was the thick air. On a mid summer day it is quite hard to breathe in Memphis. The humidity is visual. I get up most mornings at 6:00 AM to walk the dog. When I am finished, I have to change my shirt and underwear because I am perspiring so much.

Recently, I took a short, weekend, trip to Mountain View, Arkansas. It is a small town located near the Ozarks and it is loaded with hiking and mountain bike trails. I soaked it up. I smothered myself with mountain air and deep wooded trails. The landscapes were amazing and beautiful. It reminded me of trips to Pisgah forest, on the boarder of East Tennessee and North Carolina. It reminded me of home. The three-day experience was challenging, rich, and fulfilling. But, you see, that is the thing, it was fulfilling. My cup was filled; I was sated. On the third day, I was ready to come back home.

Since living in Memphis a while I have been introduced to its true character. I think many people look over the character, the soul, and the heart of this town. I sometimes wake up in the morning before the sun makes its move and head out for a bike ride. It is possibly one of the best rides I can fit into my routine. As I start the ride, the town is slowly waking up. At 6:00 AM midtown and downtown are relatively quiet. As I ride down Peabody I see people walking out on their porch with a hot cup of coffee and the morning paper. Some people wave, some are still rubbing their eyes. As I get closer to the river I see many of my brothers and sisters on the streets conversing and sharing a cigarette. When I make my way over to Front Street the sun has made its first appearance and it creeps over the river. When the first ray hits my face I can feel the warmth; it feels like a greeting from God. The smell of barbecue clouds over downtown as the restaurants prepare for the day. I am not much of a meat eater but it still makes me salivate a bit. I push myself across the bridge to Mud Island and for a couple of miles I ride beside the Miss, one of the greatest rivers in the world. She makes a noise. It is not a roar like a river would make. It is a song with a rhythm. It is as if she has been listening to Memphis blues so long, she has learned to play. As I turn my direction back east, toward midtown, I pass the old Cross Town building and wonder what God has planned for it. I roll pass the Memphis Zoo and catch a whiff of what smells like home, but I’m sure it’s not the neighbors dairy cattle. By that time the traffic is out and stirring. I meander through some neighborhoods that lead back to my home. My ride is complete.

Memphis does not offer Mountains or Hills to ascend, or epic, point-to-point single track. It does, however, have character unlike anything I have ever experienced. I have not been around the world or have experienced much outside of our little state. But, I know this town has something genuine about it that, I believe no other place has. It is unique; it has character, it has soul.