Last week, I was hiking with a new friend in my remote coastal Northern California town when we came across a guy who was hunched over in the weed with his bicycle and a skinned knee. He was fussing with a tool kit in his backpack and I asked him if he needed help. Turns out he was mountain biking with his buddy, when he blew a tire. Usually, he was able to fix his bike, but this time, it wasn’t working. His friend had ridden ahead to bike the 20 miles back home so he could get his car and come rescue his friend.

Without even thinking about it, I asked, “Can I help?”

He looked hopeful and lifted his eyebrows. I told him I had a car near the trailhead, not far from where we were. Then his brow fell. “Oh, I’d hate to trouble you, but my phone isn’t working. And I’d so appreciate the help.” (There’s no cell service where we were.)

“It’s no trouble,” I said. “I can take you to my place. I’ll make you some tea, and you can hang in the guest house, use the phone, and wait for your friend to come get you.”

So my friend and I helped him up, collected the pieces of his broken bicycle, loaded him into the car, and started to drive him home.