A lot of people say I’m too friendly. That I should be careful because there are bad people out there and my easily seeing the good in people will only hurt me when I run into the wrong person.

I can strike up a conversation with any stranger (if I want to) and am always looking to meet new, interesting people. Why? Because that’s how I grow. I see life through other people’s eyes and it helps me look at my life from a different perspective. Perhaps someone else has thought of a way to solve one of my life’s problems, I haven’t yet thought of. Then, BOOM, problem solved.

Before embarking on this adventure I asked friends and family to put me in touch with any folks that lived in the west that would be open to hiking or grabbing a coffee (I’m still and always open to that, BTW). One of my boot camp friends did just that. As a result, I met one of the most kind-hearted individuals of my life.

He’s a motocross-racing, mountain biking, gentleman that takes Texas hospitality to a whole new level. Ironically, he’s a Texan that lives in Utah, and opened his house to me (he literally said “Mi casa, es su casa” and come to find out, he actually meant it) in my time of need.

Moab kicked my a*s. The wind literally beat me and all my gear up (keep in mind, I’m still city-soft, so you rugged, outdoorsy folk probably wouldn’t have thought anything of it). Also, my last day of antibiotics was last Friday. I got a sinus infection last week and considering my company-paid health insurance cuts off this Friday, I got on the phone with my doctor ASAP. Him being a rock star, had antibiotics waiting for me in Lubbock, Texas upon my arrival from Cypress, Texas.

So I was tired…beat down…and disorganized. Motocross racer took me in, bought me dinner and let me sleep in his comfy guest bed for 12.5 hours. It was pure bliss. He continued to wow me the following day when he lent me a helping hand to bleach my trunk, teach me how to clean my Camelbak (it smelled like B.O. and was funking up the cab of my car), air up my spare tire, teach me how to replace a flat tire, sweep out my tent, and let me do a load of laundry.

This was a showcase of true kindness to me. He didn’t know me. I was a total stranger…could have been a stage five clinger that would never want to leave and try to become his domestic housewife…but he still opened his house to me and gave me the benefit of the doubt that I was a good person.

These last couple days, recharging my batteries and enjoying some good beer with good company in Ogden, Utah, are memories that will last me a lifetime. And to motocross racer, “Mi casa, es su casa” should you ever need a place to stay in the Big D.