This is the first time my bike was worked on. It was just a tune up!
I never use God’s name in vain and I actually correct other people often when they use that type of terminology as well. I’m sure to them it’s annoying but then again to me hearing then use God’s name in vain is annoying so, often, I don’t mind asking others not to do so. However, today (yesterday because I am actually writing this the day after) I swore to God. Now, let’s get something straight though. I didn’t use His name in Vain and I wasn’t angry when this happened. Quiet the opposite actually!
I got that feeling again. The one I had already had three times today. Somewhere around kilometer 84 of our trip my bike miraculously (yes this is semi-sarcasm) stopped working and by stopped working I mean literally stopped in its tracks. It seems I had blown my belt. Now, for all of you who don’t exactly understand this, the belt is pulled/pushed from the motor of the bike which pulls/pushes the back tire, which makes the vehicle move.
When this belt is destroyed… the bike doesn’t move and when the bike doesn’t move that means I, also, don’t move. You can see how this is a problem and how it can be quiet frustrating especially seeing that I literally had a brand new belt put on the day before!
So… back to my story! I have already replaced the belt three times today and I’m riding/driving down the road at a cautious speed. I think when I blew the belt (the first, second, or maybe the third time??) it damaged something else because, like I said, I am riding down the road and I can HEAR grinding/vibration coming from that area. It’s killing me!! I absolutely hate it and it’s super frustrating! I turn up my ipod and listen to Carly Rae Japsen singing “Call Me Maybe” as I try to ignore the sound of destruction coming from my bike.
One of the “mechanics”…
“God! I SWEAR that if you let me make it to the next town to fix this bike I will write an entire blog just about You!” (This is where I swore to God) That’s what I said to Him as the grinding continued on the internals (I don’t know if that’s an actual word or not) of my bike. Now before I let you know whether I made it to the town or not let me give you a little back story about the way my day is going and how awesome God has been!
When I blew my belt the first time it ended up literally across the road from a mechanic. When I blew my belt the second time we ended up maybe a half a mile (not bad at all!) from the mechanic and the third time I destroyed it I ended up about a quarter of a mile from the mechanic. Just to let you know… Each town is about 15-20 kilometers apart and even though I was super annoyed I did thank God that I only had to push my bike a single kilometer and not four-teen kilometers.
With that said… here I am vibrating down the road, grinding noise coming from under my seat, loud music playing, lots of praying and trying to ignore all the terrible (first world problems) things that have happened to my bike today. I mean, I seriously pretty much became a mechanic in the matter of six hours. I can take apart the back end of my bike and put it back together again blind folded no problem!
I see the town up ahead. Thank you God! Thank you! The grinding gets louder… Of course God would find it humorous to technically get me to the town but not INSIDE the town. I can see him watching me on webcam (that’s how I imagine God watches me… sitting at a massive iMac which is placed on top of a huge oak desk and a comfortable chair with his feet propped up while eating a burger… I say burger because I really want a burger and if I can’t have one God might as well have one!) laughing and saying to Moses (because they hang out), “Rich swore to Me that he’d write a blog about me if I got him TO the town… he didn’t say anything about getting INSIDE the town!” and of course Moses would laugh along with him.
During my day… with my broken bike.
However, this is NOT the case today. I made it inside the town… I cruised right into the center of it wearing my old Vietnam era helmet and my turban from Qatar! I pulled over to a gas station and asked where a mechanic was. Of course they said they didn’t fix it… duh! I thought… why would a gas station fix my bike?!?!
It’s at this point that I had a slight flashback to Egypt. I mat a cheeky fellow by the name of Chris who was from New Zealand and he said, and I quote, “I don’t understand why anybody would ever try to learn another language besides English… I mean everybody in the world speaks a little English!” I wish Chris was here to say in Cambodian (not the name of the language) that I need a mechanic! I switch bikes with Ericka (my travel partner) and I drive down the road to try and find one. Done! A half a mile away! I can make it!
Ten minutes later we pull up to the mechanic on our bikes and I play charades with him enough for him to understand. He, of course, will not fix it BUT he knows exactly where to go and agrees to lead me to the man I need! We pull up to a classy establishment and the man working on the bike out front agrees to fix mine. Seeing that I’ve done this three times today I walk over and pull out the exact tools we need and I begin taking it apart.
Another “mechanic” working on my bike…
He walks over, squats down, takes a look…. points at the belt, rips it off… walks inside and comes out with a brand new one. Another gentleman who is standing by looks at me and says, “you have the wrong size belt!” and they show me that, this whole time, I have had on the wrong size belt! He pulls out a beautiful belt made FOR a Yamaha and shows me that the one that was ON my bike was made for a Honda and was about an inch to short!
What are the odds that I end up in a town where there’s a guy who is carrying Yamaha products and who is a competent enough guy to immediately know how to fix my bike?! Ya… Thanks God for hooking it up!