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I was coming down a Southern California mountain at around 6pm with sunset looming in about 2 hours when I saw a stranded cyclist on the side of the road so I stopped to see what's up.  He blew a good size hole in his tire and tube, his tire boot was too small to cover the 3 inch gash, and the tube was destroyed but he had spare tube but no spare tire.  Being from the days of tubulars I learned to carry a spare ultralight folding racing clincher in my seat bag so I offered it to him and he gladly accepted since a walk from that point to the nearest phone would have taken about 4 hours-well past sunset.  So he thank me and then did something weird, he asked for my name and address so he could return the tire, I said no need it was old tire, but he insisted so I gave him my info even though he had nothing to write the info with.  About a week goes by and I get a small package in the mail, inside was two brand new really nice...ie expensive tires, and two brand new tubes, with a thank you note, turned out he was doctor in town with a fantastic memory.

Quote:

Originally Posted by kstadden 

That is a great story. How cool. Good deeds are usually their own reward, but in this case you got a nice bonus.

 

I was once the recipient of a tube from a generous stranger who refused to let me reciprocate by not telling me his name. It's just as well... I'm not a doctor, I don't play one on TV, and I can't remember what I had for breakfast. ;-)

I wasn't going to give him my info either and initially I didn't, but he insisted, so I thought he was just making a nice gesture since there was no way he could remember all of that without writing it down so I gave it him to be cordial knowing he would never remember it.  I hear you, I could have never remembered someone's name not alone address info.

Karen and I were heading down the UK on the start of our round the World journey, discovering the joys of navigation.

Tuesday we were to head off to stay with our old university friends Mark and Anne-Marie.

The day started, and continued with beautifully warm sunshine. We packed and were away by about 10-15. There is a lack of pre-defined cycle routes through and around the Forest of Dean, so we planned our own route, circumventing the Forest due to the steep hills and taking a northern route following the B roads up to Newent and then down to the cathedral city of Gloucester. We managed to find the traffic free route into Gloucester and started to think about finding Mark and Anne-Marie's address on Malvern Road.

We asked a local the way to Malvern Road. He looked at us, confused and said he didn't know of a Malvern Road. Thinking he maybe just didn't know the area that well we headed into the center of Gloucester and found the Tourist Information office.

Steve went in and asked the girl how to get to Malvern Road. She promptly typed it into her computer. "That's in Gloucester yeah?" At this point Steve is beginning to get concerned. He checks the text that Mark had sent with their address. It was not Gloucester, but Worcester, some 30 miles or away He mumbled some lame excuse and exited to explain the faux pas to Karen. Her restraint was that of a saint. We called Mark and told him what we had done and that we would try to get the train to Worcester (another £20 out of our budget). Ever efficient and calm Mark, called us back within minutes. "OK here is what we do....". Now fortunately Mark worked in Gloucester. We went to his factory and stored the bikes there whilst he took us and our bags back to their place in Worcester. What a hero! As for Steve? "Plonker" doesn't exactly summarise the words that Karen used.

Suffice it to say Anne-Marie cooked us a great dinner that night and a few Pimms and glasses of red wine made our cares disappear.

Isn't cycle touring brilliant.

Steve.

read our full story at http://www.my-bicycling-adventure.com