Have you ever crossed paths with someone you never met only the learn how much you have in common? It could be that you both grew up in the same town, you’ve both visited the same places or you’ve enjoyed the same things, though be it – at different times.
It was July 1999 when I first set out to travel the county solo on my Honda ST1100 that I discovered how our paths cross randomly, but perhaps it was truly as a child where it first set root in my mind. I don’t recall my age then, but my parents had taken the family to Walt Disney World some 1,300 miles away – by car – a Station Wagon to be exact and there were 6 of us crammed in there. It was the first time I had been so far away from home and my eyes and mind filled with amazement as I watched all these people driving past us and us past them. Who were they, I wondered. I loved to read off their plates. Michigan, Vermont, New Hampshire, Canada – CANADA!? Whoa! Another country, imagine that. Yes, I was a young boy, circa 1976 and the world was opening up to me. Everything was amazing. The different trees, the different sounds of bugs and birds, even the different type of grass, but mostly – the different people. Who are they? What do they do? What is life like for them?
It was our first day in Walt Disney World and as much as I’d like to say it was also amazing, the July heat, long lines and crowds of people rushing here and there was rather unimpressive to me, but then there it was – right in front of me. I don’t recall who saw it first, but soon, my entire family was standing there in amazement. There in front of us was a young boy about my age with a typical Little League Baseball shirt on. For everyone else in this park, it was rather underwhelming, but for our family, this was special. See, this boy was wearing the shirt my Mother and Father’s business supported and there across his back were the words that made 1,300 miles vanish
Jensen Office Supplies
We caught up to them and the parents each talked for a minute as to what a small world it was, while us kids exchanged the minimal of words.
Now here I am. July again, 1999 and I’ve been riding for days. I first left New York and then headed to Vermont before going to Canada. Then I turned south and headed toward New Orleans. I didn’t have a plan or GPS, I carried a large paper atlas stuffed in my side pannier. I would simply ride down the road and explore things along the way that struck my interest. One day, passing through Tennessee, I saw a sign for Elvis’s Graceland. Now I wasn’t a big Elvis fan, but my girlfriend at the time was so I figured I’d go there and look around and send her a post card from there. Across from Graceland was the Heartbreak Hotel (don’t look for it, it’s gone now) and behind that was a campground. I pulled into the campground and registered. Upon finding my spot, I took to setting up my tent, but soon noticed how muddy it was while I recall passing many grassy spots on my way in. I walked to the office and asked them if I could move. They happily obliged so back to my site I went, picked up my erected tent in one hand and carried it down the dirt path to a green spot and placed it there. I then went back and got my bike and gear and finished setting up. Graceland was amazing, by the way, but that isn’t the subject here so I’ll leave that for another time.
After Graceland, I visited New Orleans, then headed to Texas and went to see NASA in Houston and then headed to Padre Island, which was a big mistake. I was trying to get to Corpus Christi, but didn’t see any camping there so I went south. It had been a long day and a long hot ride, so all I wanted was to sleep. I’ve found that mistakes while traveling usually turn out pretty cool and Padre Island was wonderful. So wonderful, I spent days camping on the beach before evacuating due to a big storm.
After running away from Padre Island, I found a campground and was looking forward to setting up my tent to get all the sand out of my gear. The people next to me said Hi and explained that I didn’t need my tent – “No Bugs here” they said. Well, it might only be a thin piece of lightweight fabric, but I still like the false protection it provides, but I thanked them and took to washing everything out.
I finished setting up my site when the man said to me, “you camped at Graceland” I was shocked. “Yes, I did. How do you now that” I asked. His wife said she remembered seeing me carrying my tent down the road and then saw me on the bike after. We ended up hanging out and having dinner together. We exchanged travel stories and they gave me one of the best tips I had ever gotten – go see Big Bend National Park, which I promptly did the very next day and it still remains in my top ten most favorite places.
What are the chances that I would run into someone that saw me, some 1,500 miles and over a week later? As I was learning, the chances are great. This world I thought was so big was getting smaller by the day.
Over the years, I’ve had many more chance encounters and one of the best things about Social Media today is how easy it is to connect with people as you travel. I’ve met friends in the oddest places, never knowing that each of us were going to be there, if not for Facebook, but the most remarkable encounter I ever had would still have to be on that trip back in 1999.
I had reached the west coast and put my toes in the Pacific Ocean. I’d now been from Coast to Coast to Coast. I was heading North up the California Coast when I got to San Francisco. To this day, I can not recall if I actually ended up in San Francisco, but I recall seeing the sign for the Golden Gate Bridge and thought a lot about going to see San Francisco. I had traveled up Rt 1 from just north of LA and to this day, do not recall how I could have ended up anywhere else but San Francisco, but I don’t remember it and I know I didn’t ride over the Golden Gate Bridge. I was really home sick or heart broken or both and I’d been on the road a month. After a month, it does start to get lonely out here. I had met many amazing people and experienced many amazing things, but I was overwhelmed with loneliness and I wanted to go home. Without stopping, I turned my bike East onto I- 80 and started to make tracks for New York.
I had a few more adventures on the way back East, but it was when I was rolling through Nebraska that the most random chance encounter I ever had would happen. It was a long day and rather boring. Hadn’t seen another motorcycle in a while when suddenly up ahead, I spot one. Try as I did, i could not make up the gap so we both must have been hauling. As we both approached Des Moines, I went around and he went through. On the other side where the two Interstates meet up again, he was still in front of me, but now we were very close. I caught up to him and realized that he too had a New York Plate. I pulled up along side him, gave him a thumbs up and then pulled forward and pointed to my plate on the back. We ended up riding for another hour together before I needed gas. I pointed to my tank and then to an upcoming exit and he followed me. While filling up with gas, neither of us bothered to even remove our helmets, but he asked me if I wanted to join him for dinner in about an hour. I accepted the invite and we took off down the road again until it was dinner time.
Over dinner I learned that not only were we both from the same county in New York, but the same town. But, what stands as my most amazing encounter to date was that his son…had worked for me. Some 1,200 miles from home and two people, both riding motorcycles, just happened to cross paths without realizing they are very closely connected.
To this day, as I travel, I wonder who I know. Perhaps that is why I talk to everyone. In case you are wondering, yes, I’ve ended up meeting many people from my hometown on my adventures. Most recently was in 2016 when my hosts friends joined us for some drinks on Long Key Island in the Florida Keys. Her friend…well turned out she and I went to the same high school.
What is your closest random encounter?
