Imagine riding down a stretch of perfect pavement, no cars, huge shoulder, flying downhill on a sunny, cloudless day. Nature is booming with its noises and the streams have never seemed so loud. Its New Zealand after all, paradise. SNAP. SNAP. “FUCK”
Two of your spokes broke and you have no extra spokes on hand. DAY. RUINED. One thumb up and three cars later… Dave comes and rescues you. Your Tour Angel, your savior.
Dave on his day off, offers to drive your bicycle and your partner back 20 km to the bicycle store and waits around for hours until the wheel is fixed. The drops your partner back to the hostel where we agreed to meet.
A couple days later… on another perfect day, SNAP. A campervan pulls over and drives you to the nearest town which happened to be the one Dave, your tour angel resides at. Destiny.
Dave saves the day once again with a five-star bed, a feast, a kind heart and an amazing array stories.
Couple months later you begin another tour. Day One. Its sweltering hot as you climb for hours and it finally flattens out. You see a peach stand in the distance and your stomach is growling. The woman stops you and hands you fresh picked fruit.
Weeks later, after getting destroyed for hours on a mountain bike trail fully loaded with minimal tread on your tires and a broken nose. It starts to pour. You’re in the middle of the countryside and the campground is flooded. You finish supper and you reluctantly head out to go set up camp. A man that you saw the day earlier on the trail pulls over in his car and gives you a key. Cabin #6.
He is leaving a day earlier but still has a day left on his reservation. Another Tour Angel saves the day.
Tour Angels. They do exist.
For all of my tour angels I have had on my bicycle tours, thank you.