I was in Morehead City and had to make it to New Bern, which would be the end of my cycling trip with a greyhound bus to Washington D.C. I had finally run out of steam, all those nights camping out and not sleeping much took it's toll on me.
About 15 miles later the rear tire was flat AGAIN and I needed to bike another 18 miles before the bus depot closed. I changed the tube for a new one and looked around for someone with an air pump. In the garden of the house opposite me was a bulldozer, I knew that they would need a compressor for those . I eagerly walked up to the front door, a slender personable character in his early forties answered the door. This is him, Steven in the pic. I said: "I'm sorry to trouble you but do you have an air pump I can use?"
Steven replied "I have one on the pickup but it will be quicker to take you to the garage 2 miles up the road". We pumped the tire up and I asked if he knew where Avis car hire was because I thought it would be easier than trying to box the bike and go with Greyhound? He promptly offered to take me there. I went in, Avis didn't accept debit cards and I don't have a credit card, I walked out and told Steven, he said :"You can use mine,I'll go home and fetch it", he returned 15 minutes later. Before he went in I told him they wanted a $200 deposit, so we should just leave it. He said it's fine. I asked:"Do you trust me? He said something that left me overwhelmed "Yes, i do". We went back into the car hire place but unfortunately he had brought his wife's card. After arguing to and fro with them we abandoned the idea. Steven's faith in people and his willingness to go far beyond the extra mile touched me in a big way. Faith without works
is dead and I want to thank you Steven, your good deeds and faith in people shows the love you have for mankind, whilst many think the world is going to hell in breadbasket you are still chipping away at the hearts of man making an amazing difference. I'm sure God looks down at you and says: "That's my boy".
I cycled across the bridge and into New Bern, a quaint clean affluent looking town until I crossed the railway line where the houses were smaller, and unkept, I began to feel uncomfortable, it was dark and the road dangerous. Hotels were too expensive in the affluent area, except for "The Palace Motel" on the other side of the line, which looked more like "Flea Ridden Motel", there was no ways I was staying there.
I found a Walmart and asked their guy ,Peter who assembles bikes, for a box. He came out with a spare bike box. My problem was how was I going to cycle with such a big box,so I eventually folded into quarters until it could fit on the panniers which were on the rack. The bicycle lock kept the box in place as I rode on another 1.6 miles in search of the convenience store where I could buy my bus ticket to D.C..
I made it there and the convenience store was still open. A pleasant tall dark haired Palestinian sold me the bus ticket and suggested that I go and wait in the Waffle House until 5 a.m. and then return to the depot and pack the bike in the box. I went over to the Waffle House but didn't feel comfortable about waiting there all night. but I was very tired so I just threw caution to the wind a erected the tent behind the outbuilding of a well lit church garden.It was cold, and I didn't sleep much, plus deer were strolling around. The next morning I was up at 4 a.m. and made my way to the bus depot. I took the tires off and dismantled the handlebar but I couldn't take the pedals off, I didn't have a spanner for it and the bike didn't fit, I was running out of sellotape and the bicycle was still sticking out. I thought I will wait until the nice guy opens the shop and I'll ask him for cardboard. The greyhound was due to leave at 6.30 a.m., 6.15 came and went but the Palestinian chap was no where to be found. I panicked and prayed "Oh God,help me". Across the road I saw a light go in a shop, I ran as fast as my tree trunk legs would carry me. Reluctantly the shop keeper parted with a spare box after I she sensed my desperation. I ran back, the cardboard fitted but I wasn't sure that I had enough sellotape. As I sealed the last bit ,the tape ran out. With little time to waste the bike was put onto the bus. I climbed on the bus with persperation dripping from my forehead but relieved that I had made it on in time.
About 15 miles later the rear tire was flat AGAIN and I needed to bike another 18 miles before the bus depot closed. I changed the tube for a new one and looked around for someone with an air pump. In the garden of the house opposite me was a bulldozer, I knew that they would need a compressor for those . I eagerly walked up to the front door, a slender personable character in his early forties answered the door. This is him, Steven in the pic. I said: "I'm sorry to trouble you but do you have an air pump I can use?"
Steven replied "I have one on the pickup but it will be quicker to take you to the garage 2 miles up the road". We pumped the tire up and I asked if he knew where Avis car hire was because I thought it would be easier than trying to box the bike and go with Greyhound? He promptly offered to take me there. I went in, Avis didn't accept debit cards and I don't have a credit card, I walked out and told Steven, he said :"You can use mine,I'll go home and fetch it", he returned 15 minutes later. Before he went in I told him they wanted a $200 deposit, so we should just leave it. He said it's fine. I asked:"Do you trust me? He said something that left me overwhelmed "Yes, i do". We went back into the car hire place but unfortunately he had brought his wife's card. After arguing to and fro with them we abandoned the idea. Steven's faith in people and his willingness to go far beyond the extra mile touched me in a big way. Faith without works
is dead and I want to thank you Steven, your good deeds and faith in people shows the love you have for mankind, whilst many think the world is going to hell in breadbasket you are still chipping away at the hearts of man making an amazing difference. I'm sure God looks down at you and says: "That's my boy".
I cycled across the bridge and into New Bern, a quaint clean affluent looking town until I crossed the railway line where the houses were smaller, and unkept, I began to feel uncomfortable, it was dark and the road dangerous. Hotels were too expensive in the affluent area, except for "The Palace Motel" on the other side of the line, which looked more like "Flea Ridden Motel", there was no ways I was staying there.
I found a Walmart and asked their guy ,Peter who assembles bikes, for a box. He came out with a spare bike box. My problem was how was I going to cycle with such a big box,so I eventually folded into quarters until it could fit on the panniers which were on the rack. The bicycle lock kept the box in place as I rode on another 1.6 miles in search of the convenience store where I could buy my bus ticket to D.C..
I made it there and the convenience store was still open. A pleasant tall dark haired Palestinian sold me the bus ticket and suggested that I go and wait in the Waffle House until 5 a.m. and then return to the depot and pack the bike in the box. I went over to the Waffle House but didn't feel comfortable about waiting there all night. but I was very tired so I just threw caution to the wind a erected the tent behind the outbuilding of a well lit church garden.It was cold, and I didn't sleep much, plus deer were strolling around. The next morning I was up at 4 a.m. and made my way to the bus depot. I took the tires off and dismantled the handlebar but I couldn't take the pedals off, I didn't have a spanner for it and the bike didn't fit, I was running out of sellotape and the bicycle was still sticking out. I thought I will wait until the nice guy opens the shop and I'll ask him for cardboard. The greyhound was due to leave at 6.30 a.m., 6.15 came and went but the Palestinian chap was no where to be found. I panicked and prayed "Oh God,help me". Across the road I saw a light go in a shop, I ran as fast as my tree trunk legs would carry me. Reluctantly the shop keeper parted with a spare box after I she sensed my desperation. I ran back, the cardboard fitted but I wasn't sure that I had enough sellotape. As I sealed the last bit ,the tape ran out. With little time to waste the bike was put onto the bus. I climbed on the bus with persperation dripping from my forehead but relieved that I had made it on in time.
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