When we got up it was still very cloudy and cold, which was very unusual for this time of the year here.  Mike gave us a few names to check on at the docks and we rode down to give it a shot.  Our first visit to a shipping company gave us all the information that we needed.  As it turned out, all American ships require unionized labor, and it was clear that this idea wasn’t going anywhere for us.  Then it started to rain, and we went to get some breakfast which cost us $6.24.  We rode back to the shop and waited out the rain before returning to the docks for some more questioning.  Our next idea was to get a job on a banana boat down to South America and back.  As it turned out, most of the labor on those types of ships comes from Central American workers that are paid $90.00 a month.  Again, not quite what we had in mind.  We found out enough information to know that when we get to New Orleans or to the West Coast, that we won’t waste any time talking with shipping companies, because American ships are out of the question. Our only chance would be to meet the Captain of a foreign flagged ship and catch a ride overseas as a passenger.  Anyway, we then had lunch for $4.00 and went back to the shop to help out.  Tom took our bike pedals off and adjusted the cones, as they were loose and were giving us some problems.  Bruce improvised a dust cover, since he lost the cover to one of his pedals.  I rode over to a store and bought a six pack of Miller beers for $2.45, while Bruce was chatting with one of the female employees of the shop. It turned out that she was engaged, so we went back out to Anne and Mike’s house to do laundry, eat some hamburgers and watched Part Two of Sybil on TV.  Now we’re back at the shop for another night of playing security guard.

(Editorial comment 18 years later: So far, the romantic notion of traveling the country by bicycle and meeting women in every city just wasn’t happening.  I didn’t have that as a primary objective of this adventure, but given the option of it happening, I surely wasn’t going to turn it down.  As it was, I really don’t think that we fit most women’s romantic fantasies at the time: flat broke and on bicycles!  Now if we had been traveling by Corvette, I think that things might have been different!)

(Editorial comment 36 years later:  After reading these journal entries and my editorial comments from 1994, I remember the events of our adventure very clearly…perhaps not every minute detail, but certainly the overall events of the day.  For me it’s like looking at a slide show of photographs from 1976, that were an important part of my life.  I’ve always subscribed to the brainstorming theory that any idea is legitimate until disqualified, and I place each idea on a virtual ‘table’ until it’s removed by disqualification – as was our idea of traveling by ship overseas.  Sometimes, the least likely idea actually pans out as a winner after careful review side-by-side with other ideas placed beside it. Don’t be in a hurry to remove anything from consideration until it either disqualifies itself or another idea clearly is the better course of action.  The second point I’d like to make is that although we never did go overseas on this adventure, my mind was constantly focused on follow-on adventures that would take me around the world. I’m a firm believer that our thoughts carry our lives forward, for better or for worse, as we ponder our heart’s desires.  Some people say our thoughts attract people and events to us, based on our energy and passion.  Others might say more pragmatically, that we become what we think about…because we’re distinctly aware of what we seek and can choose to follow it when the opportunity presents itself.  I trust in the words of  Psalm 37 NIV: “Take delight in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.”  My entire life is testimony to the fact that I’ve been given the desire’s of my heart – even the ones I may not have been aware of at the time – as later on I bicycled on solo trips through England, Scotland, Wales, France and Canada; I spent 16 years overseas flying, traveling and supporting fighters in the U.S. Air Force in Europe; as well as traveling from Norway to Zambia and to the Persian Gulf.  What I didn’t realize at the time was my son David was ‘waiting to be born’ in just over ten short years from this day…and somehow I needed to find and meet my future wife in a little German village in order to make that happen for all of us!  I still dream, dreams for my future…and my ‘virtual table’ has them all laid out side by side…as I patiently wait on, pray for and evaluate each one!)

We slept last night in the shop while playing security guard.  We were up by 8:00 a.m., and then started helping them move everything over from one store to the other around the corner.  We worked until 8:00 p.m. carrying everything that wasn’t part of the walls. It was tough work, especially since it was raining and drizzling all day long.  At 8:00 p.m. we went with Molly (their daughter who was going to college in Charleston) back to the house, which was on the other side of the river.  There we were able to get cleaned up, showered, and then the rest of the family came home and we had an excellent beef stew dinner.  Afterwards we watched Part One of the movie, Sybil on TV.  The house is 200 years old and has 19 rooms, and in fact we found most of Charleston to be very old and historic.  After the move we came back to the shop to play security guard again.  The shop has two parts, as the front of the building contains the showroom and bike rentals, and the back room is the workshop.  It is a really big building.

(Editorial comment:  Looking back on this trip, I remember that our biggest daily concerns were food, a place to sleep and a way to get out of the weather when it turned bad.  It is the same list of priorities that man has had from the beginning of time – sustenance, shelter and protection from the elements.  In a way this trip was demonstrating that the difference between primitive man and modern man is not very great.  For most of us, the elimination of a paycheck would put us out on the street today, like so many homeless in our cities.  Man must first be able to satisfy his basic needs, prior to rising above the elemental fight for survival.  Subconsciously, modern man uses a majority of his energies just to satisfy his basic survival needs, and as such, few of us ever progress beyond that phase to think great thoughts or to create objects of great beauty.  All of our daily existence is geared towards meeting our basic needs of sustenance, shelter and protection from the elements, along with other basic needs as well.  If we could be free from those basic requirements, then we could really make progress as a society. Anyway, I doubt that few people have stayed in such a variety of unusual places as we have during this trip, in such a short period of time.)

(Editorial comment 36 years later:  I began writing my Autobiography shortly after a New Year’s Resolution put everything in motion on the Eve of Jan 1, 1994, when my life suddenly came into focus after years of seemingly unrelated adventures and events all seemed to make sense – at least to me – and I began writing my story on January 3, 1994.  Sometime in the writing of the first draft of my Autobiography, I entered these Editorial commentaries, which are in and of themselves, a ‘time capsule’ of my thoughts…18 years after our bicycle adventure took place.  I was inspired to write my story as a result of how my prayers during the Persian Gulf War in 1991, deepened my faith and relationship with God – which has been a focal point of my life ever since.  I’ll address that experience if and when I ever reach that point of my Autobiography, as everything in my life culminated in that one experience.  The only events of my life that reach the same level of importance, were: when I made my decision to leave school on a frozen night at Michigan State University while looking up at the stars, and deciding to take this bicycle adventure; my decision to leave Seattle and bicycle around England, Scotland, Wales and France; my decision at Michigan State University the second time around to walk across the street and join the U.S. Air Force; and lastly, while witnessing the difficult birth of our son, David.)

]]> http://livelovethinkexist.com/2012/05/31/in-search-of-the-meaning-of-life-an-autobiography-chapter-eight-part-six-the-u-s-bike-trip-continues/feed/ 0 livelovethinkexist http://livelovethinkexist.com/2012/05/30/in-search-of-the-meaning-of-life-an-autobiography-chapter-eight-part-five-the-u-s-bike-trip-continues/ http://livelovethinkexist.com/2012/05/30/in-search-of-the-meaning-of-life-an-autobiography-chapter-eight-part-five-the-u-s-bike-trip-continues/#comments Thu, 31 May 2012 01:28:28 +0000 livelovethinkexist http://livelovethinkexist.com/?p=21265 ]]> Saturday, November 13, 1976     Day 53     65 Miles, Total: 1515 Miles     $15.50, Total: $449.54

Bruce was the first one up at 7:00 a.m., and the three of us were on the road just after 8:00 a.m.  We had a strong tailwind, and Bob set a good pace as the leader.  We rode about twenty miles and then we stopped and spent $1.00 on milk and bananas.  Twenty miles after that we stopped and spent another dollar on snacks during a rest break.  The cold weather is still here, but at least the sky is clear and sunny.  We arrived in Charleston, South Carolina around 1:00 p.m., after climbing two huge bridges, and then we went over to a bike shop so that Bob could buy a washer for his tire pump.  The bicycle shop didn’t have what he needed so we went to a Greek-American restaurant for lunch and spent $3.50.  After lunch we said goodbye to Bob, who was ready to keep riding south.  We then rode over to the docks to try and find the shipping company that we had been told about earlier.  We struck out, it was Saturday, and everything was closed down at the docks.  We started looking for somewhere to stay for the night, but the cheapest place wanted $14.00, and we said ‘later’ to that.  I then recalled the rule that says if you need help, go back to your only friend in town for assistance, so we rode back over to the bicycle shop.  As it was, they were in the process of moving from one store to another, and they didn’t have a burglar alarm set up in the new store yet. So they let us stay in the new shop in order to keep an eye on the place.  After we settled into our new surroundings, we went out and bought $10.00 worth of groceries for dinner. (Anne and Mike Gildea, Bicycle Rental – Le Grand Tour, Sales & Service, 135 Market Street, Charleston, SC 29401).  Mike was a reporter and had worked the dockyards and thinks that he can help to find us a ship overseas.  I sure hope so.  We’ll stay until Monday, and hopefully Mike can line something up for us.  In the meantime, we’ll help them move into their new store.  After we finish drinking these beers we’ll crash for the night.

(Editorial comment 36 years later:  I recall reciting these little rules and phrases while we were on the road, no doubt stemming from my over abundant optimism!  Back on Day 22 when we stayed in a ‘Honeymoon Cottage’ next to a mountain river in Harmon, WV – I elaborated on our, ‘only friend in town’ philosophy of seeking assistance when necessary. I also often used the phrase, ‘downhill to the coast’ which proved to be totally untrue. The bike shop was a Godsend for us, as was the fact that it was Saturday and the docks were closed for the weekend.  We were experiencing an amazing mixture of people, events and circumstances on our adventure – and although I was still completely focused on the ‘adventure’ aspect of our trip – the notion of this trip being all about, ‘connecting with people’ was beginning to soak into my consciousness!

We woke up and realized that it hadn’t rained last night, but when we looked outside the weather looked pretty nasty.  We walked out on the pier and saw that the weather was moving in very fast, so we decided to make a run for it.  We made the decision to try and get a ride further on down the coast in order to outrun the weather, so I took the front wheel off of my bike and we tried to flag a truck down.  With the wheel off, we figured the chances of someone stopping would be much higher.  I put the tire’s quick release nut in my pocket, held out the wheel for sympathy, and between 10:30 and 11:30 a.m. we were completely out of luck.  No one would stop.  We were right by an Air Force base, and figured that everyone was too conservative to give us a ride.  We met a guy named Bob who was riding south to Florida, and so we rode with him south on Highway 17 in the rain. (Bob Witmer…Valparaiso, Indiana…)  The rain wasn’t much more than a mist, but it still wasn’t very fun.  We stopped at a little restaurant for lunch that had only five tables.  One table was full, but the others were empty.  The restaurant personnel wouldn’t serve us, using the excuse that the other tables would soon be filled with “regular” customers.  Their story sounded pretty rude to us, and they wouldn’t even let Bob use their bathroom, saying it was out of order.  So we continued on in the mist to Georgetown, and we all checked into a room at a motel.  We split the $16.00 cost, and our share was $8.00.  It was called the Sandman Motel, and we appreciated the warm showers.  After getting cleaned up, we rode into town for dinner and spent $9.00. I rode over to a shipping office and got some names of people to talk to about getting work on a ship going to the Philippines.  We’ll check it out in Charleston.  Then we went to a Pizza Hut for dark beer, and spent $10.00.  Afterwards we returned to the motel to watch T.V. and crashed for the night.

(Editorial comment:  The restaurant that refused to serve us was the first example of people being rude to us on the trip.  In fact, we were in a situation of feeling the effect of prejudice towards us, a feeling that we had never experienced before.  When that happens, for whatever the reason or circumstance, it makes you do some serious thinking.  We didn’t make a scene in this case, and just quietly left, looking at each other and not believing what had just happened to us.  The other episode of the day was looking for work on a ship.  We had gotten this notion of hitting the high seas on a ship, and turning this trip into a round the world adventure.  We didn’t have a plan for making it back from the other side of the globe, but we figured that once we had made it halfway around that we were bound to come up with something.  The plan was half-baked at best.)

(Editorial comment 36 years later: Adventures take on a life of their own with twists and turns, ups and downs, that are unpredictable and impossible to plan for.  We were beginning to feel a sense of desperation with our money running out, bad weather setting in and a desire to quickly reach Florida – and we began to latch onto far-fetched schemes that had no basis in reality – we didn’t even have passports!  This may have been the first half-baked plan we hatched, but it wouldn’t be the last, and luckily our Guardian Angel was watching out for us and never allowed any of these bird-brained schemes to actually play out.  As to the prejudice, I’m happy to say it was the only time we were treated rudely on this adventure – but I’ve never forgotten what it felt like – and I never will.)

We were on the road by 8:30 a.m., bought a couple of donuts for $1.50, and rode down Highway 701 to Highway 130.  We filled our tires with air at a gas station, and must have over inflated them as Bruce had a flat tire two miles later.  He was doing about twenty miles an hour, and almost lost control of the bike and would have ended up in a ditch. The tire sounded like a firecracker to me, and destroyed the whole tube, but both Bruce and the tire were OK.  A guy from the gas station where we filled the tires came by and gave us a ride in his pickup truck.  He started going down Highway 130 to Shallotte, but decided instead to take us into Little River, South Carolina.  The route took us down some back roads and through the Green Swamp.  We fixed the tire at a Gulf station on Route 17, and then continued along Highway 17 into Myrtle Beach.  Along the way we stopped at a Hardees for lunch and spent $3.00.  We made it down to the beach and put the bikes into the ocean, rear wheel first, and then walked the bikes down the beach for about seven miles.  We walked without shirts, working on our tans as the weather was quite nice at 65 degrees.  Then we came into the downtown section of Myrtle Beach and saw nothing but amusement rides.  We talked to a guy on a bike who told us that in the summer bikers were able to get rooms for $1.00.  We rode about five miles down the beach to the south and checked into a room for $6.00, which was the cheapest winter rate.  It was a good investment, considering the weather was calling for rain tonight. We took long, hot showers, walked out to the end of a long pier, and strolled along about three miles up the beach.  Back in the room we heated up some spaghetti, but it didn’t taste very good, so we went back out and bought some chocolate milk, and a newspaper.  Then we walked the beach for another couple of miles before returning to the room to hit the sack.

(Editorial comment: We had finally made it to the ocean, and disproved the, ‘downhill to the coast’ theory of mine.  Putting the bikes in the ocean rear wheel first was symbolic, as we planned to make it to the Pacific Ocean someday, and then put the front wheels in the Pacific.  We never did have a plan for the Gulf of Mexico.  In our enthusiasm, which was partly driven by the good weather, we walked miles and miles along the beach, after having traveled a good 75 miles that day.  Needless to say, the sand wasn’t very good for the bicycle chains and gears, but that night we slept very well!)

We cleared out of the woods by 8:30 a.m., and walked the two miles back up the sandy road to the main highway again.  Then we continued south on Highway 87 for about 7 miles to a town called Tar Heel.  There we stopped for a breakfast at a grocery store: chocolate milk, bananas and breakfast rolls for $1.75.  We decided to pass up Wilmington, as it would be an extra day’s ride, so we turned south on Highway 131 to Bladenborough, where we finished off the bananas.  Continuing south on Highway 131 brought us into Whiteville, and on our way we met and talked to an old farmer.  He told us about his younger days of hopping trains and such, and he insisted that we take a couple of dollars that he wanted us to have.  In Whiteville we stopped and ate at a Hardees for $5.00, and we were very tired from fighting a headwind all day long.  After dinner, we stopped at a huge Methodist Church and asked the minister if we could sleep there.  He said OK, and that’s where we are now.  We walked over to the downtown area and bought some natural cereal to munch on.  There we thought of a plan to check out the Intercoastal Waterway, and try to sail down to Florida, and maybe all the way to Key West.  Looking at the map shows that Route 17 rarely stays by the coast anyway, and this way we could see the ocean every day.  It would be a lot easier than riding all the way to Florida as well.  Anyway, it’s worth a try.

(Editorial comment:  We were anxious to see the ocean, and this leg of our journey was quite different than the previous two.  We were becoming quite pragmatic, and the idealism of the trip had already worn off.  We were now down to $329.86, and we began to think of various options.  A sailing adventure to Florida sounded like a good idea, and the map between Charleston, South Carolina and Jacksonville, Florida didn’t look very promising.  It was the ocean we wanted to see, and our wallets that were starting to feel pretty light. Somewhere along the way we would have to compromise.)

(Editorial comment 36 years later: For us this was a one-way trip, hopefully to somewhere on the west coast.  The original route I planned beforehand generically took us to the east coast in the fall of 1976, down to the Gulf coast for the winter and towards the northwest in spring and summer the following year – and we were following the same general route because the approaching winter was closing in fast behind us. We originally had planned to leave earlier in the year, but two things set our timeline back by weeks: we had to finish the summer as Marine Patrol Deputy Sheriffs just to have any money for the trip at all, and because of the unexpected last minute requirement to have all four of my wisdom teeth pulled just prior to starting the trip. Bruce and I had a combined total of $1000 for our bicycle adventure, less all the money we spent on equipment for the trip, and at this point we were using up what we had much quicker than we originally anticipated.  The idea of catching a ship bound for Key West is a perfect example of why I call this a ‘bicycle adventure’ and not a ‘bicycle trip’ – we weren’t purists – but much like the original settlers leaving on wagon trains to the west, at least I was bound for anywhere…and we were just living in the moment!)

We slept in until about 8:30 a.m., and then packed and got everything ready to go.  We waited for Dave to come home for lunch, and then we all went out for submarine sandwiches, and afterwards said goodbye to Dave, Bob and Jim when they had to go back to the base.  We got the bikes ready, said goodbye to Bren and Chad, and Bren kissed us each goodbye at the door and wished us a safe journey.  We walked the bikes over to Bragg Road and then rode into town.  The two week stay had really spoiled us, and it was very hard to get back into the swing of things again.  We got lost trying to find Highway 87 in Fayetteville, but finally we were on our way, riding Highway 87 towards the coast.  We had a very strong headwind that didn’t do us any good at all. Today we made it as far as the dam and locks on Cape Fear River, which is about 23 miles NW of Elizabethtown.  We walked about two miles down a sandy road in order to look out over the locks, and after spending some time there we returned and found a service road that went back into the woods and pitched our tent for the night.  There are, “No Trespassing” signs for these woods, but I don’t think anyone will bother us tonight.  We opened a can of peaches and ate them for dinner.  Bruce found mold in his mess kit, from a damp sponge that was left there during the past two weeks.  That’s all that I can think of for now.  It’s about 5:30 p.m., and it is getting dark.  Time to go to bed.

(Editorial Comment, 36 Years Later:  I’ll never forget the kiss Bren gave me at the door before wishing us a, ‘safe journey.’  I was a very late bloomer, and at the young and innocent age of 20, hers was my first heartfelt kiss on my lips other than my mom’s when I was little growing up.  I remember the worried concern in her eye as she wished us a safe journey and initiated each kiss, as if sending us into an unknown danger and uncertain future.  She would have been right on both accounts, as we were about to continue our journey into the unknown.  The scene continues to play in my mind, as if she was an Elf Princess sending Bilbo or Frodo off with a kiss on a perilous journey from the pages of one of J.R.R. Tolkien’s famous stories…)