Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
“But what does that mean?” I asked, still lost in my anxiety over the approaching 335
miles.
The monk laughed, “I don't know, son. You get to decide the best way to share this
journey. Just remember, sometimes it's about committing to people's hearts as well as their
dreams.”
Bells began to ring in the distance as the monk, whose name I never caught, said,
“Morning prayers.”
He was walking away by the time I thought to say thank you.
I began to think again about Mr. Martin and Ryan. I thought about all the people I had
met along the way, who had said, “Wow, I wish I could do what you're doing,” and I real-
ized that this journey had to continue.
Now, now, don't worry. I am not about to do this again! Rather, it was time that someone
else should. The journey couldn't stop with me. It needed to continue with a new person at
its lead.
I walked out of the monastery, looking back at the quiet and peace of the monk's life.
It had its draws, but I'm afraid not enough adrenaline for this chap. I got back on my bike
and continued down Highway One, driving past Hearst Castle, where I could see a zeal of
zebras standing in the distance, vestiges from when William Randolph Hearst had turned
his grand terrain into a nature reserve. And that's when it hit me: I was going to give one
final gift.
I pulled over at the next gas station and asked someone for a quarter. I had an important
call to make. I waited as the phone rang, hoping to hear a voice on the other end.
“Hello?” the man answered.
My heart soared, “Dwight?”
Yes, Dwight, the first man to give me a tank of gas on Hollywood Boulevard, the man
who had enabled me to start this entire journey. I had collected most of the names and
emails and numbers of those who helped me along the way. I knew it was going to come in
handy. On this one, I wasn't wrong.
I found my way back to Los Angeles, entering the city in a snarl of traffic, LA's typical
greeting. Dwight had agreed to meet me for coffee that afternoon, though he was reason-
ably confused.
I told him that I wanted to meet up with him and give him a ride in Kindness One. I told
him that he was the first person who helped me, so I wanted to thank him. What he didn't
know was that my gratitude came with a gift.
