It was 5pm on a Saturday, still sunny and bright. I was driving back from the lighthouse at Point Reyes. In the next split second I drove into an uneven part of the road, and there was a sound and vibration that no driver ever wants to hear. Especially if it is the middle of nowhere with no cell phone reception:
I almost had a panic attack right away, considering I am alone, never had a similar situation happen to me before, and there was no way I could call for help. I drove into the right shoulder, and almost immediately a car stopped behind me.
The first stranger
He would be the first of many other amazing, kind strangers I would meet later that day.
His entire family was sitting in his car waiting, but he took the time to look at my tires, asked if I wanted a lift to civilization, felt apologetic that he was driving his wife’s car else he would have had an air pump. He felt so bad that he couldn’t help much that I felt bad he stopped for me.
He estimated that we were 10 miles away from anything. There was no reception, so we didn’t even know where exactly we were.
I thanked him for his gracious help, knowing that he didn’t have to but he stopped for me. Perhaps it was subtle back then, but he gave me a little boost of strength that was enough for me not to collapse in pure despair.
I put my hazard lights on and drove really slowly, annoying all the cars behind me in that one-lane traffic. I was in luck, because his estimate was off — it wasn’t 10 miles but 3 — I started seeing cars parked on the street.
I drove into the first parking lot I could find. It was Tomales Bay Resort. A very beautiful little resort, which I would have taken beautiful pictures of had I not been in such anxiety. I walked into the reception, hoping that they would allow me to park my car there just for a bit until help arrived.
The receptionist and her husband
The receptionist greeted me with a huge smile. She didn’t even hesitate for a second when I asked for permission to park the car. I rented the car via Getaround, so I called them for help. They didn’t know what to do except tow the car back to San Francisco. From Point Reyes. Since it was peer to peer, I would be responsible for the tow charges plus repair costs.
Moral of the subplot: don’t use a peer to peer service for long road trips.
It was a logistical nightmare trying to get a tow service on a Saturday evening to the middle of nowhere at Point Reyes. I would stay in that reception area for the next five hours, searching, calling and waiting. Receptionist lady and her husband ended up doing whatever they could for me, including her husband driving out his air compressor from their place to see if they would work for the flat tires. I told her that I felt really bad imposing on her, and in return she told me to pay it forward.
I insisted that they return home while I wait for the truck, but they refused. She said she wasn’t raised to be capable of leaving a someone alone by herself. I just didn’t know what to say except to feel bad and grateful at the same time, as I ran out of words of gratitude.
At 10pm the tow truck arrived, by then I was just glad someone came for me, driving through a dark lonely hill late on a Saturday night.
The tow-truck driver
On the hour-long ride back to the tire shop at Greenbrae, we somehow started conversing about his kids. He told me how he is giving his daughter a space to be creative because schools don’t offer that space much. More tellingly, he shared that he’s teaching his kids that it is okay to fail.
That society should be better at giving people space to fail.
By that point at 11pm I was hungry, tired and emotionally drained, but upon hearing that I was re-energized and I had a giant smile on my face. Even the tow truck driver seemed to be specially sent to me, for me.
He drove me all the way back to Mill Valley where I had an airbnb for the night. He didn’t have to. I got home near midnight, seven hours from the time it all started. My host came out, heard the story and gave me a huge hug. I made a peanut butter sandwich for myself. It was the first thing I ate in more than 12 hours.
The next day, I needed and wanted to get everything over with so I can be back in San Francisco. It would have exhausted me even more if I had to extend both my stay and car rental, with the prospect of missing work on Monday. Daryl, the tow truck driver managed to find me one of the very few tire shops that is open on a Sunday in the north bay.
The tires were replaced within thirty minutes with not much fuss. I had to find a way to travel from Mill Valley to Greenbrae. I called three taxi companies with not much success. I opened Uber, not even believing that there would be cars available.
The Uber driver
There was a black car. Just one. He picked me up, listened to my story, felt so personally upset on my behalf that I had to go through all of this on my supposed vacation — again, a random stranger demonstrating exceptional empathy and connection to me, for me.
This was an expensive story to tell. The financial cost is secondary to the emotional cost I have to pay — I was supposed to be recharging myself after all, and now I am actually more exhausted than I was, before my trip. Just to see this:
Yet I know that it could have been so much worse. I could have had the flats literally in the middle of nowhere where it would have been impossible to get any help except the blind hope of having someone stop for me again. I could have been stuck at the roadside in the cold, dark night for five hours instead. But I had a warm space with amazing, kind people at the resort even though they had zero obligation to help me. I could have encountered a grumpy receptionist. There could be no tow-trucks willing to drive through a hill at night to get to where I was.
I could have been left with no car, no lodging, no warm clothes, and worse — no way back.
To top it all off, the tow truck driver said the words I needed to hear, even though he wasn’t even aware of it. On education, on kids, on space, on failing. I didn’t even initiate that conversation and I have no idea why he started talking about something that seemed so randomly, chillingly co-incidental with what I have been thinking about for the past few weeks.
I still managed to get back to a warm bed in Mill Valley against all odds, despite the location and time were not at all in my favor.
I feel incredibly lucky to return back home to the city on time. Nobody knows how long this could have been dragged out.
It seemed like the Universe was trying to tell me — even if it seemed like I had gotten into the most dire situation, I would still have humanity’s grace and kindness to support me. None of these people had any obligation to me except the common thread of belonging to a larger whole.
If burning a huge hole in my pocket and having to feel all that anxiety were both needed to reignite my faith in humanity, I would gladly go through this again.
In the end, I am grateful, because through this misfortune, I rediscovered my fortune.
Epilogue
The tire shop owner explained to me that the tires were already worn out due to a weak suspension so the other two tires were on the way to flatten anyway. I guess I just happened to be driving a car that may not have been maintained in a while. I replaced all the tires at my own cost including the tow charges — perhaps it was naive of me to drive a p2p car out to Point Reyes where the roads are questionable in the first place. I don’t think the owner wanted this to happen either so I am not going to spend anymore energy debating this issue. I would be curious to see what any of you would have done. ☺