(Above: Google images)

Autobiography    Dieter Rolf Fischer   Book 11

HOME                                     THE    WINNER   GAVE   IT  ALL                       I like your story - now what?

                    Book 11 / Ch. 1   Written / Published 25.10.12  / 1.11.2012

Please note: Unless stated, all photos are by the author

   

"Faith is the basis of all we hope for. Trusting God reveals things, which are yet unseen". (Hebrews 11, 1)

(Translated from the German Bible - Hoffnung fuer Alle - HOPE for ALL)

1. It's on: LA to Son Diego!

"Do you know Christine Caine?" The questions came from a complete stranger. He was the driver of a van, who had pulled up beside me, as I was locking my bicycle onto a post outside a bank. I had just arrived at the international airport in Los Angeles, Ca. from Australia and needed some US currency. 

The van driver gave his name as Greg. He must have spotted the large letters - AUS tRALIA on my safety jacket I was wearing. To answer his question I had to think for a moment, who he meant. The average Australian would never have heard of Christine Caine, but her name suddenly came to me. "Isn't she a preacher at the Hillsong Church in Sydney?" Greg nodded. My memory proved correct. 

Why Greg asked me about her, thousands of miles away, remains a mystery. He invited me to church - the OASIS church, and gave directions. I never promised anything during our brief encounter. Sunday was five days away. He also mentioned that he knew Brian. (I knew who he meant; the New-Zealand born head of Hillsong.) 

Brian and I had crossed paths nearly 40 years ago. His father had just taken his family to Australia. Brian, a teenager then, was the only person I ever have known, to give a solo performance in church - on his drums! (At least during a drum solo you can't be off-key, nor out of rhythm with the rest of the orchestra, as you can on a trumpet). 

That same evening I would be coming across another Brian, from New Zealand. 

Still very much jetlagged I cycled to my hostel in Santa Monica on my Giant bicycle, which I had brought with me on the plane. As I pedalled, my mind perceived a vague similarity between OASIS and one of my magical numbers I55O (+A). But how strange - these digits also were those of that day's date - 05 15 (May 15th)!

 

The safety jacket I wore for  approx. 5.5 weeks during my US cross ride.

 

               

 

No one can take this t away from US. 

One reason the Holy Spirit prompted me to ride a-cross America was my love for the cross. Did I not in my very early writing experience magic with the hymn titled: "When I survey the wondrous cross ...? 

There are elements in the western world, who take offence, or even want to ban altogether this ancient, holy symbol of Christianity. 

Example: The Pentagon forced an Army post in Afghanistan to remove a cross on its worship tent in December. It was offensive to liberal atheists. Source: (http://www.politico.com/news/stories/1111/69039.html#ixzz1eYHGQuVA). 

Mr. Obama, your military is not going to win a war without God's help. Woe to America or any nation, who turns their back on God. It's a bad mistake to deny the cross of Jesus!

... lest the cross of Christ should be made void. 

(1. Cor. 1, 17)

- - - - - - -

 

On the afternoon of my arrival in LA, having visited the area on previous occasions, I indulged in just enjoying a ride in the district; those familiar streets, which I remembered, and have written about in previous books. On Montana Ave, which was just being resurfaced, I was looking for the Blue Plate Restaurant (see Book 6, Chapter 2). I could not find it. Where I thought it should be located, I noticed something different - parking meter number 1505. 

Not only that, it was right outside shop number 1511B. Later I added the two together - 3016.

 

It ISS0 - 1505 + 1511 = 3016.

If numbers are wearing down any reader, please be tolerant. More are coming. Why? Well, there are a number of reasons....! (Just kidding)

- - - - - - -

I did pay a brief visit to OASIS Church the next Sunday. The address was 5100 Wiltshire Blvd. Almost next door, 50 numbers away, I couldn't help but take a photo of what I saw. The size of the number 5150 was bigger than the motor cars parked underneath. Somebody must have been proud of that number.

 

 

Note the size of the house number! (Aha, to assist short-sighted taxi drivers.)

Below: Another 1550 picture, snapped in Oberesslingen, right at the intersection, where I grew up at No. 136. The house has long been demolished to make room for a car dealership.

 

On the far left a 'Litfa-Saeule'. Way back in my Book 2, Chapter 40 I had a dream of such a contraption. On that occasion the ISSO code was born. 

But where did I see 1550? 

A: On the far right - an advertisement for the M V L - Fest: Roman numerals M 1000 V 5 L  50.

Weeks later the above corner was only one of two places, where I was caught in rain, heavy enough to have to stand under. I loved it, just enjoying thoughts of my youth! (In chapter four you will find the other). 

- - - - - - -

(Back to LA)

Another mature cyclist, Brian from New Zealand, was staying in the same hostel as I was. He was about to start a cycling tour, much like I was, with tent and cooking gear. His plan was to do Route 66, which starts in Chicago and  ends on Santa Monica Pier. Since I had no engagements the next day, I accompanied Brian for the first few miles, through the suburbs of LA, including Hollywood to the eastern side of Downtown, where the hills begin.

Great to see a 75-year old embarking on such an adventure. No rocking chair for him. Guys like that go out and rock the place en route. 

On the way back I paid a visit to Hollywood, a ride down memory lane. The place was busy with tourists, as always. A man handed me a pamphlet, an invitation to be part of an live-television recording (in the audience, of course). It was for free and was to start in only an hour's time. Why not? I thought. 

Later that afternoon, together with a mixed crowd of a few dozen people, I went through all the motions, cheering, clapping and whatever we were told to do, while Comedian Craig Ferguson recorded his Late late Show. Ferguson, a native of Scotland with an unmistakable accent, obviously had made it big in Tinsel town.

The actual screening of this recording was scheduled for August 22nd. (I liked that date - 228). The audience was made up of visitors from many places. One was a nurse, another called Christine, came from Finland.

 

Venice Beach is a Mecca for eccentrics. The weirder you are, the better you fit in. (So far I only made it to Santa Monica, a few kilometers north. Perhaps, next time, I stay here, I'll fit.) 

 

The next morning (May 17, 2012) I checked out of the hostel in Santa Monica. I loaded my tent, and all other gear I had brought, onto my Giant. I wanted to cycle down the coast to San Diego, as a warm up, and to road-test my bike and gear in preparation for the big cross ride later in the mid-west.

This first cycle down that coast line was also a trip down memory lane. In Seal Beach, Huntington Beach, Long Beach I had experienced many things during my 2005 and 2007 visits. 

At Huntington Beach I recalled my time in 2005, staying at the SUN 'N SURF Motel. I took another photo, one of the 2000+ I would be snapping during the eventful, long world-trip ahead.

- - - - - - -

 

<<< Bobby Brown, the world's greatest wine-o at Venice Beach. Only weeks before Bobby had had his moment of fame on Australian television. A popular breakfast program had shown him briefly, on location.

As I passed his way on my ride to San Diego, I told him that I had seen him on TV only days before. "Did they give you a good reward for coming onto the show?" I asked.

"No", he replied, "nothing at all." Was Bobby fishing for a dollar? OK, I obliged to restore the faith of American winos in Australian generosity. 

At Long Beach I cycled a few streets away from the beach. I had little trouble finding the Motel I had stayed at during my 2005 trip - the Travel Kings Motel.                                                      >>>

Right opposite I noted a van parked. It was that of a locksmith - Dkeyman. Sounds like 'The key-man'. The registration plate held the digits 3016 and the letters OK. 

Seconds after taking a photo of this vehicle a man in a wheelchair crossed my path. He wore a cap with a powerful message: JESUS gave it ALL.

- - - - - - -

 

My first campground was at Dana Point, right on the beach. At only $ 6 (for cyclists and walkers only) it was one of the cheapest I had ever stayed at. (It balanced my later experience in at least two Illinois' State Parks, where I had to pay over 4 times that much ($ 25), the same as those, who occupy powered sites, arriving in huge RV's and trailers.)

Cycling around San Clemente the next morning to find a place for breakfast, I found a pencil on the ground. A closer look revealed it was a DIXON, HB2 Size. That name DIXON only recently came up, minus ON. Dix was the maiden name of the late Mrs. Liddy. And did not the name DIX come up in the final chapter of Book 10? It did indeed. (Read on).

Two nights ago my wife and I were sitting in the lounge. The TV was on in the background. I was telling her about the above little 'on' twist when suddenly on TV, a second after I had spoken, an ad came on. A loud male voice shouted:" IT'S ON .." (..the whatever sale). 

The final ride into beautiful San Diego took me via La Jolla, the place where a seal colony had taken over a whole beach.

La Jolla Cove, on San Diego's beach front. 

Seals love the beach too. This place is quite a tourist attraction. En route I saw a flower shop, one I easily identified with - Adelaide's Flowers. 

 

It was quite a surprise, when I saw on the map that I was actually going to pass through Mission Beach. A place with the same name had played a major role in a previous long-distance bike ride along Australia's East Coast. (Chapter 9, in Book 8 is titled Mission Beach Possible.)

At the time I had left my mark in the sand with the words 'Mission Possible'. Why not have some fun here, do the same, on another Mission Beach on the other side of the Pacific Ocean?

This time, in a moment of inspiration, I did it differently. I don't know where the idea came from, perhaps my LoVe for the number 55, the letters SS in the name. Or was it influenced by my ISSO experience the day before - whatever? Take a look how I crystallized the letters IM ON.

 

Reading POSSIBLE vertically...

 ... leaves MI  ON horizontally.

 

Near the Youth Hostel in suburban San Diego I spotted a supermarket called Stumps Family Market. I bought a few items, 1 litre lemonade, 2 apples and 3 bananas. This 1,2, 3 takes me to the final twist in this chapter. The code 123 had been born, as it were, on 1.Feb. 03, when the Spaceshuttle Columbia disintegrated on re-entry. (As recently as in the final chapter of Book 10 I make mention of it). San Diego and LA was right at the beginning of my adventure.

Fast forward four-and-a-half months to 13.10.12.

This was at the end, just before returning home to Australia, the Spaceshuttle Endeavour crossed my path, literally. Arriving back in LA from months of overseas travel, I wanted to stay at another place than Santa Monica. (No, not Venice Beach, I'm not weird enough for that.) I chose another hostel from the online selection, closer to Downtown LA.

Until then I had not known that right there, in walking distance of where I was staying, space-history was being made. The space shuttle Endeavour had been flown to Los Angeles airport and from there was being transported through LA's suburbs to the Science Museum, where it was to be a permanent exhibit.

The event was big news on TV, especially that night, October 13, 12. The engineers in charge of the huge operation had trouble negotiating the vessel around one corner. It was stuck for hours. This intersection I learned was not far away. It was a lovely, warm night, so I persuaded some fellow guests at the hostel to take a walk with me, as did thousands of others.

 

The spacecraft Endeavour (on Sat Oct. 13th 12) made very slow progress through the streets of LA.

 At the corner Crenshaw and Martin-Luther-King Blvd. the operation came to a prolonged halt. It was a mild, clear night, which attracted thousands to come out to see the spectacle live. On Sunday morning things were moving again (below).

Trees, powerlines, traffic lights were among the obstacles which had to be moved to make this project happen. I took above photo the next morning on Martin-Luther Blvd. as the giant bird was moving again at approx. 3 km per hour.

 

The date of my sighting of above fitted 1 2 3 perfectly - 10.13.12 at the start of Book 11. 

God is a powerful God, beyond space and time. 

 

Index

Chapter 2