To See...and the Kindness of the Three Stooges

I think over again my small adventures
my fears
those small one that seemed so big

For all the vital things
I had to get and to reach

And yet there is only one great thing
the only thing

To live to see the great day that dawns
and the light that fills the world.

-Old Inuit Song


So one of my dad's objections to this journey was that "people are mean," and I will concede that unfortunately, there are folks in this world with less than beneficent intentions. But today as I rolled into the Little Swtizerland Cafe just off the Blue Ridge Parkway...and a wonderfully curvy 226A...I encountered the kindness of strangers.

The Cafe is a popular spot for bikers and a couple of groups were there, including Paul, Larry and Bob...or as they referred to themselves...Moe, Larry and Curly. They were on jaunt from Alabama to Virgina. As is the point with motorcyclists, they were enjoying the experience, their friendship and the happenings along the way. I shared a little of my journey plans and they were thrilled for me while adding the caveat to be careful, suggesting things to see, routes to ride, and asking if I had certain pieces of repair gear. Finding I had a tire puncture repair kit, but no can of compressed air, Paul said, I'll give you something before you leave.

We continued our respective meals and after a bit Paul emerged from digging through his sport cruiser's bags with three items in hand: a can of compressed air (which he reminded me many times was very cold and not to shoot my fingers with it because they would freeze off), a red LED reading light that would clip to a ball cap (reading maps or such with a red light when it's dark won't give you the after burn in your vision like a white light will) and a sheet of duct tape - yes, a sheet about one foot wide. I already had a roll in my bags, but Paul said the sheet could come in very handy for larger repairs.

Every so often he would think of another piece of riding advice and pass it on. He and the other stooges loaded up and were on their way. Unfortunately, Larry's bike at the slow speed, loaded down, heading out of the inclined curved parking spot got sucked down to the ground by gravity. He quickly looked up at me and said, "Now don't do THAT." His friends circled back for him while I and some others walked over to help him pick up the loaded bike. And just like that they were off to continue their own adventure.

Several hours later I pull into my friend's house in Knoxville where the hospitality graciously continues - a refreshing shower after a long day on the road, a fabulous meal, comfy place to sleep, and engaging conversation about things past and what is yet to be.

Ah yes, the kindness of strangers and taking the time to really see the dawing of the new day and the light that fills the world.

Journey On!