Totally Tubular

I think the guy's name is Dan, and I never learned the girl's name, but they did me a solid. Last night as I was checking the pressure in my tires, they both blew. I didn't even know if I had two spares. I did, but just two.
I've been splitting the rubber at the base of the valve. The only way I know how, right now, to avoid it is to leave the tires alone.
Now that I'm down to no spares, and a recurring type of tube failure that's almost impossible to patch, I'm hyper-sensitive to the road.
After talking with ''Dan'' and ''girl'' for a while at a restaurant where we were both taking a meal break, I mentioned my predicament. Dan said he happened to have a tube that wouldn't fit his tire and that I should take it. What luck, really. I thanked him over and again; he was giving me peace of mind, not just a tube.
Dan has been cross country twice by himself, and now he and girl are heading up to Minnesota to see some friends. They were shocked to hear that they were the first people I've met who were also traveling by bike. (I've met many cyclists, but no one on a bike trip.)
My good luck continues. I might have to stop at Turningstone Casino on my way through New York.