Our fresh water hose split outside Albuquerque at dusk—the kind of small disaster that feels biblical when you are tired and thirsty. I was wrestling with a replacement I bought at an auto parts store when the man in site 42 walked over with a better hose and the words I needed: use mine tonight, buy your own tomorrow.
I thought about London decades ago, a stranger handing me an umbrella at a bus stop. Pay it forward, she said. I have left coolers of ice, extra leveling blocks, and once a whole lasagna for a family whose generator died in a heat wave.
RV travel is not solo travel unless you choose loneliness. The community at a good campground is a dinner party with extension cords.
Keep an extra hose. Help the person struggling with their awning. You will be them someday.