TALA, MEXICO - Dave and I had a simple reason for doing this trip: curiosity — for the way people live, for having our own transportation in foreign corners of the earth, for how a coconut tastes when it comes only a few metres from its true source and for who we might have as friends at the end of two years travelling the globe.

One of many beautiful insights we’ve found thus far is the kindness of strangers. At the very beginning of our trip, we met Neil and Linda in northern Idaho at a gas station where Dave and I had stopped for ice cream. It was these generous folks who took us in when I broke my wrist and was deciding what to do next. We stayed in their private cabin. They loaned us their cars, stocked our fridge, showed us the sights of Idaho and even drove over 500 kilometres to retrieve my motorcycle where I’d left it stored in a garage, unable to ride.

In Mexico, Ramon and his family found us at a rest stop on a toll highway between Guadalajara and Tala. While we were eating handmade potato chips he invited us to stay at his house in Tala. It was night as we followed his van and I was running out of fuel. We lost them on the highway when I had to pull into a gas station. We were sad to have lost our friends. Suddenly a car honked and there was Ramon. He had somehow found us. We followed him to his mother’s house where we were able to park the bikes in the living room and have a great night’s sleep. People ask: what if he was a thief or a murderer? And we reply: what if we were? These strangers are taking a risk inviting us into their lives as well.

Left: Neil and Linda, background, came to Heather and Dave’s rescue in Idaho. Right: Ramon provided shelter for the couple in Mexico.

In Puerto Escondido we met Luciana and Omar, who were travelling two-up on a dual-sport motorcycle like ours. We saw them after they pulled into town in the evening and then again the next day on the street in front of their hotel, where we struck up a conversation. They lived in Villahermosa, which was far off the route Dave and I had planned to travel that day but we changed our plans and followed Omar and Luciana to their home where we met their little girl and Luciana’s mom. We stayed for four days and Omar helped us find motorcycle parts.

Our bikes, with bags and foreign plates, attract attention. When we stop to fuel up the bikes, people usually come over to talk. They are always friendly and offer help, either recommending a hotel, helping us find parts or even offering hot showers and great food.

Mario approached us at a gas station near San Martin de los Andes in Argentina and invited us to stay a few days. He and his wife Carolina fed us food, booze and copious amounts of the potent, yet energizing, yerba matte. We almost couldn’t leave this gorgeous town and discussed at length spending the winter to ski and work before continuing, but in the end we couldn’t make it happen and carried along on our course.

Sometimes a simple gesture makes our day. We’ve had four separate instances where people have filled our fuel tanks and wouldn’t take money. Twice when we ran out of gas on the road and the other two times people handed us their hoses and said our fuel was on them.

Left: Heather gets in some snorkeling in Ecuador. Right: Machu Picchu provided the couple with many thrills.

I had a memorable event in Bolivia while passing a small pick-up truck. No less than a dozen old ladies in traditional clothing sat uncomfortably in the back. Quite often I stand out as a female riding my own bike and have gotten used to incredulous looks and even glares from females in some of the smaller pueblos. On this day, however, the colourful grannies cheered and waved, giving me the thumbs-up. It was a pivotal moment when I realized the sameness in diversity.

The news will show us awful and disturbing things that can happen when cultures collide or people are misinterpreted. Often, warnings of what can happen “out there” come from people who rarely travel, likely out of fear. What they don’t realize is home has its own terrible, too — serial killers and mass school shootings, for example. Familiarity is what makes us feel safe but that doesn’t mean the unfamiliar is unsafe.

After leaving home, I can’t recall anybody on the road who asked why we were endangering our lives travelling around the world on motorcycles. Instead they wanted to hear how we liked their country or where we had been so far.

It was as though the why was obvious to them.