Reading Donovan’s story (see comments in last entry) made me think of an amazing story I hadn’t thought of in a while.
My friends and I were driving to Nevada for the infamous Burning Man festival in the Black Rock desert. The car was filled to the gills with 40 gallons of water, costumes, camping gear and 3 bicycles precariously dangling from a bike rack on the back.
I was afraid we weren’t going to make it. Our stuff was so heavy that the entire car was lowered and tires appeared flat. Hmm… “Fuck it. Let’s go!” we said, anxious to get on the road.
About 45 minutes outside the city, my stomach wrapped in knots. Since I am prone to over-worry, I tried to tell myself everything was going to be okay, but I couldn’t get it out of my head that we were going to kill someone with our bikes or blow out a tire and kill ourselves. I made the unpopular suggestion that we throw the bikes away along with half of our water.
Instead, we stopped at a strip mall parking lot and tried to rebuild the rack that had lowered and loosened considerably since we started our journey. I felt sick to my stomach. No one else was as worried as I was, and nobody liked the idea of tossing our bikes.
I stepped into the car, sat down and closed my eyes. I had just read somewhere that if you need help from angels, all you have to do is invite them in. So I invited angels to help us and to keep us safe.
About 10 minutes later, a guy walked up out of nowhere and said enthusiastically, “I know where you’re going. Burning Man!” He was going the following day and I immediately asked, “Do you have any extra room?” Without skipping a beat, he said, “Yeah sure. I have an empty truck.” Not only did he have a huge empty truck, but he had it in the parking lot at that moment.
We loaded up his truck with 3 bicycles and 24 gallons of water and gave him his official Burning Man name, Angel boy.
He arrived the next day at our camp and said, “Anyone waiting for some bikes around here?”