Christian cyclist still rolling, learning at 85

Charles Barrow, a lean and healthy 85, likes to say that he doesn’t have time to sit down and die.

“I have too many things I want to do.”

A entrepreneur who operates as The Sewing Machine Doctor, Barrow makes furniture for his wife, Sarah, restores antique autos, takes clarinet lessons and keeps up a weekly social schedule of breakfasts with friends and his wife.

But what sets this senior apart from his peers is his passion for motorcycles.

At an age when many rely on a walker, Barrow barrels down the highway on a Suzuki Bergman 650 as a member of the Christian Motorcycle Club.

It’s not a powerhouse like his former Honda Gold Wing.

“My friend calls it a scooter on steroids,” he said. “But it will get out and go. When I first got it, I got it up to 99 once but that’s too fast for a mature guy like me.”

Since acquiring it in 2006, he has put 2,543 miles on the bike, including a long-distance ride up the coast of California. Barrow, who doesn’t drive cars much any more, said he had considered giving up his motorcycle but he just couldn’t.

“There’s something about it that just turns me on,” he said. “Part of the allure is getting home and saying I survived it – I made it.”

He actually considers himself safer riding a motorcycle than driving a car because, unlike his car, he focuses completely on riding his Suzuki. Over his many years in the saddle, Barrow has rolled through every state in the union and had many adventures.

He recalls leaning into roaring winds riding through Lost Trail Pass in the Rockies on the way to Florida. Barrow also survived a few accidents.

“I had one tussle with a deer” on the Swan Highway, he said. “The deer was killed but I walked away.”

Limped away may be a more accurate description, since he cracked some bones, bent his thumb backwards and severely scraped his legs. Barrow was wearing most of his protective gear including a helmet — but not his chaps.

“Now I’m an advocate of wearing all your gear all the time,” he said.

He got his first motorcycle, a Harley, as a teenager in North Dakota. Barrow grew up in Amadon, which he calls “the little town that isn’t” since it disappeared years ago.

 His father worked there as the 4 p.m. to midnight telegraph operator for the Northern Pacific Railroad. After school, Barrow often hung out at his dad’s office.

As a result, Barrow learned the Morse Code and became an operator himself after high school.

“It’s just like talking after you get it,” he said.

In about 1955, Barrow moved to Missoula where he worked for the Northern Pacific until he decided to try selling carpet for Sears and Roebuck. He made another career change when his neighbor, manager of a Singer outlet, offered him a job.

After four months of work and training, he was made manager of the Kalispell Singer shop. Barrow taught himself to repair new models as they emerged.

“Sometimes I would take a new machine with me for reference to see how it was supposed to be,” he said. “That’s a good way to learn.”

The move to Kalispell paid off in more ways than an enjoyable career and future business. Barrow found his wife of 33 years here.

“We met through the college,” he said. “FVCC had a square dancing program back then.”

They each brought two sons and a daughter to blend into their new family.

After 14 years, Singer closed the store and the district manager outbid Barrow for the franchise. After a month working for a new boss, he quit and got a job driving an over-the-highway Brown Bus on routes such as Whitefish to Spokane.

Over seven years on the road, he carried passengers more than 400,000 miles.

“I really loved driving,” he said.

When Barrow retired 23 years ago, he became The Sewing Machine Doctor. He started small, serving some old customers from the Singer store.

He said he set up the business to supplement his income and keep his brain active.

“I’ve talked to guys who retire and fish 24/7,”  he said. “After six months, they sit down and die.”

Barrow said he has no problem repairing the modern sewing machines. He leaves the computer part to others but still repairs the mechanical side.

In all these years, Barrow said sewing machines haven’t changed much.

“The principle is exactly the same,” he said. “Once you learn the principle, you get into the finer points. I enjoy it.”

Barrow services the machines and pursues other hobbies such as woodworking in the workshop next to his home off East Reserve Drive. He builds furniture pieces, including an armoire, a bookcase and a futon for their home.

While he changed jobs and added new hobbies over the years, Barrow remained a devoted motorcycle enthusiast. He even told Sarah before they married that if she loved him, she had to love his motorcycle.

Sarah agreed he could ride his motorcycle as long as he didn’t expect her to always ride as his passenger. She doesn’t mind short trips to Glacier National Park but draws the line at long distances.

After riding on the back of a bike himself, Barrow said he understood her lack of enthusiasm.

“It’s just not as fun,” he said.

Barrow has been a member of the Christian Motorcycle Association for as long as he can remember and before the Flathead had a club. He said it’s an international organization headquartered in Hatfield, Ark.

The local club now has 25 to 30 members.

“We have the ‘Run for the Son’ fundraiser every year,” he said. “We ride 100 miles and get pledges on the first Sunday in May.”

According to Barrow, the group supports causes such as providing motorcycles, bikes, boats and horses to itinerant preachers in Third World countries. He said a gift of a motorcycle makes a huge difference to the preachers’ ministry.

“They can make a circuit in a week that takes them a month to walk,” he said. “Our motto is ‘Change the world one heart at a time.’”

In the last year or so, Barrow said he has slowed down.

But in the next breath, he describes the 1931 Model A Ford that he is restoring to sell so he can start restoring Sarah’s 1929 Model A pickup.

Barrow also jumped into clarinet lessons in hopes of playing well enough to perform with the recently formed New Horizon Band. He learned the saxophone years ago but never mastered the clarinet.

At 85, he’s giving it another go with a clarinet his granddaughter got too busy to play.

“I have to learn a little bit more — I still have too many squeaks,” he said with a laugh.

The allure of retirement, he said, is not doing less but doing more of what interests you and having the freedom to meet friends on the spur of the moment.

Barrow advises others to keep busy and keep learning.

“It keeps the blood flowing in the brain,” he said.

Reporter Candace Chase may be reached at 758-4436 or by e-mail at cchase@dailyinterlake.com.