Meet Longtime SR 19 Bicyclist

By Ed Lisle

    Shortly after moving back to Umatilla, I usually saw him riding his bicycle along SR 19 through town. For over 20 years, there he was, stooped over his bike, cigar stub clenched behind his beard, usually clothed in a camouflage jacket, pedaling along Umatilla’s main drag. I asked around about his identity and really got no answer. “I think he works at the Quarterdeck,” was the best response I got. I don’t know why I waited for over 20 years to just ask him his name, but I finally did. I pulled to the side of the road and stopped him going North in front of the Pizza Hut. I told him I would like to tell ‘The Outpost’ readers his story.
    His name is Jake Jackson and he is 68 years old. The first words out of his mouth was to tell me he was “the biggest gossip in Umatilla. If anyone ran over him on the road, they would be startled out of bed each morning with bagpipes playing ‘The Star Spangled Banner’ and the last thing they heard at night would be ‘Taps’ on the bagpipes!” I never heard that bit of gossip, but I hope if Jake is ever run over, them bagpipes plays real loud.
    Jack is from Portland, Oregon. He and his family visited Florida in 1960 in a 1942 Oldsmobile. Their first night was in a motel in DeLand. He woke up during the night to the sound of heavy winds. Talk about perfect timing, they spent their first night in Florida in their first hurricane. ‘Donna’ sure knew how to say Hello! Not too many seven-year-old boys have, given a choice, opted to return to a state better known for hurricanes than the snowstorms of Oregon.
    Jake enlisted in the Navy in 1972, where he was a communication specialist. Back in Florida, for over 22 years, he was usually seen riding his bike to and from the Quarterdeck where he washed dishes. Me and Josie saw him there when he was carrying a load of dishes to the kitchen. We were enjoying one of their famous blackened ‘grouper’ sandwiches or their delicious fried fish daily specials. I really miss those two favorites. Tried them at the Mason Jar for the first and last time. Jake said he spent all of his time in the kitchen. He now washes dishes at Lakeview Terrace. He leaves his bike at the gate and walks three quarters of a mile to the cafeteria. He said that everyone waves and talks to him there.
    We occasionally saw Jake riding either to or from Eustis. He said that he enjoyed going to the book store and the DVD store. They have both closed, now he only pedals to Eustis for bicycle parts or tires. Tires cost about $15 and last about a year. He gets his tubes at Ace for $6, but only after being patched about 10 times. Do any of you remember patching your own inner tubes? I’d hold the tube under water to see where the bubbles (hole) came from. Rough up that spot from the top of the patch kit can, smear some glue on it and, not recommended, set the glue on fire, tear off the patch cover and stick it on the warm spot. We didn’t have no Gorilla Glue back then. Jake has three patch kits and tire pumps. One at home, one at work, and one in his bag which is always on his bike.
    Going back and forth to work, Jake puts over 2,000 miles a year on his bike. At one time or two, he pedaled up to 15 miles an hour. Not any more, his goal is "to just get to where he is going." Except for a few young drivers, most people he passes on the road are real nice. He's only had one real accident but was very lucky. No damage, no one was hurt, but he did drop his full cup of coffee. He has bought four new bikes. He came home one night, he was very tired and went to bed without securing his bike. The next morning it was gone along with his bag of goodies, including his camo jacket. His bicycles cost almost $100. That stolen bike meant a lot of time in elbow-deep soapy water.
    I asked Jake if he had any trouble with dogs. He said he wore heavy boots and dogs were no problem. I told him that when I had a paper route as a kid, I had a water pistol filled with ammonia and water. Dogs were no problem for me, either. Jake said that would be mean, he’d stick to his heavy boots.
    I can’t let this go without talking about them cigars. They ain’t no regular stogie. They are a mild, hand-rolled Edisto from Dominican Republic. Cut in half, two usually last Jake all day. He may not realize it but he has become part of Umatilla’s scenery. He is as a common occurrence as slowing down for a sandhill crane crossing the road. Lay off the horn, but when you pass him on the road, give him a shout out, “HEY JAKE.”