Rescued when I needed it. . .

I admit that I’m saddened by a lot of the news today. But it bolsters me to think back to the kindness and human connection I received from perfect strangers on my cross-country trip.

Six years ago this week, I discovered while biking through rural Louisiana that I had a couple of divots in my rear tire. Worried, I searched online for a bike shop in the next big city I’d pass through, Lafayette. But who would have my size tire AND be open on a Sunday?

The answer, it turned out, was a man named Chris Daigle, who repaired bikes out of his home. Unfortunately, when I set out for his house, I heard a loud sound of papers flapping in the wind. This, I can assure you, is NOT the sound you want to hear when biking, because it means your tire has just burst. Amazingly, my rear tire — a Kevlar-reinforced tire! — had an actual metal KEY sticking out of it.

Still a few miles away from his house, I called Chris and asked if he knew of anyone who could pick me up, or a taxi service. (I didn’t have my flat-repair tools with me.) To my delight, he offered to come himself. He showed up with his van and shuttled my bike and me back to his house, where he replaced both tires (just in case — it had been 2,000 miles since San Diego!). He also used a circular saw to cut off a protruding screw beneath the seat that I needed to have taken care of at some point.

When it got time to pay him, I had no idea what I was in for. Would he take advantage of me?

Absolutely not! The tires cost less than I’d paid in Chicago, he didn’t charge me for the pickup, and he didn’t even charge me to cut off the screw! Not only that, but he and his wife were delightful. We had a great time talking about biking and traveling and Chris’ love of photography. I even wound up buying one of his travel photos, which now hangs on my wall.

When it came time to leave, I didn’t really want to. Chris’ wife refilled my water bottle, and Chris offered to drive me back downtown — though I declined, wanting him to have the time for himself. When I left, I was filled with appreciation.

There’s a line from Max Ehrmann’s poem “Desiderata” that I particularly like: “With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.” I’m reminded of this when I think back to the generosity I experienced from regular people over those four months on the road.

Who’s someone who’s given you hope, even if in a small way? I’d like to hear about them. Share your story with me, and the world, on our Facebook page.