The "Truth" in Goodness

Allow me to fill you in on the greatest segment of our trip thus far. Two days ago we found ourselves in a Camden coffee shop with hopes of its business hours outlasting the rain. Hope was not enough and therefore we found ourselves, once again, pedaling through roads of rivers, to the market. While food was on our mind, an additional period of warmth and dryness was our main focus. 

However, before even making it through the entrance, we were greeted by a man who changed our entire evening and weekend with a terse fifteen-second conversation. It went a little something like this:

Caring stranger: "Hey there! My name is Eric. I see you're bicycle touring. Where ya headed?"

Wes: "California."

Eric: "Awesome. Come stay at my house tonight."

Wes looked at me with an expression of awing disbelief, followed by both of us happily taking him up on his offer. As he walked away, his girlfriend and child walked out of the store to meet him and he yelled back. "We're making tacos! Get an extra pound of ground beef!" It's hard for me to use the phrase 'words cannot express' because I believe words paint the clearest picture, although in this case, words cannot express the extent of elation and warmth this moment created. Warmth created not by heaters or burning balls of gas, but by promising words. 

After buying the essentials (Twizzlers, Ben & Jerry's, and a Symphony bar), raging river roads now guided us to the address Eric provided. Upon wheeling our drenched bicycles and gear into his barn, we would have been so incredibly happy with nothing more than its roof above our head and places to hang our gear. However, the hospitality of Eric and his family extends much further. First things first, we exploded all our gear throughout his barn, ensuring everything was separated and airing. What would have otherwise given me great discomfort and miserableness in the inescapably aquatic outdoors that evening, instead gave me a great laugh as I hung up my soaking hammock and gear from the day's morning. We had been saved and this was the confirmation. 

At this point we had only met Eric and his daughter Phoenix, 7 years old, who was the first to scramble through the laundry room door and greet us. While slowly hanging our clothes and coming to realize how much of a sanctuary the barn is, Phoenix was trying to scare us with scary stories. Including ones about the ghost in the upstairs of the barn, who occasionally decides to use the sewing machine at night. We played off not being scared by telling her we would leave out our worn socks and pants for her to sew.

The dining room inside was quite a contrast from the slow-moving barn and entire rainy day we had experienced. Each of his kids was creating or participating in some form of lively entertainment. No television needed. Atreyu and Roma, 2 and 4 years old respectively, were rolling around the floor with each other, playing with a set of machinery ear muffs and Hulk gloves. Lochlin, 12 years old, was creating his own beat by softly drumming on a wooden dresser with his hands. Phoenix was still, and continued to throughout the evening, telling us her rendition of the scary stories she had memorized. All the while, Eric's girlfriend, Ashley, was making a delicious feast of tacos and taking equal part in addressing the needs of the children just as much as Eric. 

Sitting down and eating dinner with the Verité family, Eric is somehow able to address the needs from each of his kids directly and effectively. 

"What are you looking for?" I'll get it for you. 

"Have you washed your hands?" Do it before you sit down. 

"Milk. Who wants cow and who wants soy?"

Boom boom boom. It was, without a doubt, the best way of ensuring everybody and everything was covered. With each of the kids wanting to tell us something at once, I would personally lose track of all focus when more than one of them tried to tell me something. Everybody sat at the table happily and it was solely because of him. 

Each of them were wonderful in their own way, but Lochlin, being the oldest, had formed a character which developed around each of his individual sibling interactions. The logical, reasoned, and kind overseer of the siblings. 

Towards Roma: "I'm going to let you continue pulling all that thread off of the spool, but I want you to think about what dad will think of it if you continue." She immediately stopped. 

Towards Atreyu: "You cannot expect others to let you play with their Hot Wheels if you don't replace them. Replace the ones you've taken out if you want to see more." Trey grabbed the previous grip of cars from off his bed. 

Towards Phoenix: "You have to make sure your scary stories don't end with a random death."

Phoenix: "...she walked around the corner and slice, he killed her."

Loch: "And THAT was a random death!"

It caused me to look back on where I was at in my development at 12 years old. 7th grade. I was a hooligan, not looking out for anybody but myself. Not nearly developed in any spectrum of life. Living only within the realms of want and self-satisfaction. I'm excited to hear where life takes Loch, for a kid of his caliber truly has a future of endless possibilities at his disposal. He guided us on a hike to nearby Battie mountain and shared thoughtful conversations the whole time. The day I met him, I turned twice his age, yet I enjoyed his company just as much as any buddy my age. 

Within being at Eric's home for a short period of time, he informed us of the reason he was so happy to provide us with shelter that night. In 1999, Eric was 22 years old, going to school, yet not quite sure about what he wanted out of life. Sound similar to my mindset and age right before Peru? He had no experience being a cyclist, nor did he know what he would gain from it, but he decided to ride his bicycle across the country. From his hometown in New Hampshire, down the entire eastern seaboard to Florida, across to California, then up to Washington. Now there's an important side note that changes his trip from exciting to exceptional. He wasn't going to leave his 150 lb dog, Falcor, behind! He had a trailer specifically made for his needs and set off on an old Trek 5200 mountain bike with 26" knobby tires. Falcor knew, without Eric saying anything, to get out before steep hills and get back in at the top. We spent the evening going through photos and having him show us his trip memorabilia. Traced maps, a quilt his community made him before leaving, his helmet, a bag of recordings and stack of journals. He told us of the many instances of incredible hospitality he encountered along the way. Thirteen years later, he has wanted to pay it forward to the next touring cyclist he came across, but never had the opportunity. We're thankful he finally came across two soaking wet guys in front of a Hannafords supermarket. 

Being in Maine, we had been on a mission for some bright red, fresh lobster. Upon asking Ashley where we could find some good lobster the next day, she replied with a smiley "Me!" and a thumb pointing to herself. As a proclaimed lobsterman since 2007, she had to be on the boat at 6 a.m, but would be back in the afternoon. We were hoping for 1-2 lobsters each at a deal price. Instead, she brought us three huge lobsters each, free of charge! We rode bikes down to the harbor with Loch and grabbed fresh seaweed for steaming the lobster. Eric, using his massive lobster pot, cooked us the most delicious lobster I've ever eaten. Scrumptious, hearty, free of charge, and fully dunked in melted farm butter Pheonix had made a few days prior. Ashley explained to us how she determines the sex and size of each one while lobstering, the regulations followed, where they live, how they eat, and even showed us the commonly missed meat in the tail flippers. All wrapped up with a day of playing in the yard. 

The Verité ("truth" in French) family delivered us the exact Maine experience we were hoping for, yet realistically could not have attained without them. 

We had run out of hours in our day and therefore Eric offered us to stay at his house another night. Fortunately there was a way in which we, more specifically Wes' family, was able to help repay what he had done for us. He was taking most of the family a few hours away to the Boston Aquarium the next day, but Loch wasn't able to go because he had to be back in the Camden the next late-afternoon. Wes called his family and arranged for them to stay right outside of Boston that night in order to get an early start on Sunday. Thank you so incredibly much Newbury and Munnelly families! Your hospitable spirits shine once again. 

Our Camden experience was exceptional, to say the least. All the months of work and planning were worth it, even if only for the weekend we just experienced. "Is this real life?" was a common phrase. While I'm still not sure why I'm on this trip or the purpose of it, I'm starting to get a grasp of it. I want to experience the inherent goodness in which every individual possesses. I look forward to the ways in which I run into the desire people have to place greater good upon others. To their community. To their family. To the lost touring cyclists that are sure to get into some miserable situations in the near future.