Back on the Road

After Deming, I worked my way toward Show Low, thinking I might head toward Payson and sneak up on Flagstaff the back way. The route was gorgeous, with a few twisty turns every now and then to keep one alert. Like a lot of bikers, I find curves a bit fun. On one set, as I leaned through the curve, a sandstone bluff exploded into view a short distance ahead. It was so startlingly beautiful that I almost forgot I was driving.
Later on, the weather became threatening, so I decided it was time to suit up. A corrugated metal building that looked like a garage and claimed to offer food as well offered an alternative. Lunch. As I pulled up, a young man offered the use of a covered picnic area to keep the bike dry. So often, I find people are like that, friendly, thoughtful, caring.
Inside, I ate a microwaved cheeseburger that tasted a lot better than I expected and drank a cup of hot tea that tasted as good as I hoped it would. An older man was entertaining two women with tales of downed planes found to have rich, and sometimes illegal, cargoes. It reminded me the hills can hold a lot of secrets.
One of the women was working at her laptop and I gave her my website address. They were excited at the discovery of a chance encounter with a mystery writer. One of them bought a copy of my book, and I signed it.
After awhile the rain lifted and we all went outside to assess the weather with local experience. The verdict favored an optimistic outlook, so I paid my tab and got back on the road. The line of storms was breaking up, although I was glad I had put on rain gear for the determined few that remained.
I rarely have those kind of encounters in cities. More people, fewer exchanges that prove memorable. Underneath the protective armor there must be as many stories, but not as readily discovered or shared. Maybe that's why I avoid cities when I ride, at least one reason anyway. I always think these chance encounters are a treasure trove of images and ideas for my writing. Maybe they're simply a glimpse back to my childhood growing up in the hills and discovering the world through stories told by others or absorbed through the books I read. Where do you find your connections to the world as you most like it to be, your chance treasured moments?