I had a little occurrence a couple of months ago that had faded from memory until this morning's commute, figure'd I'd relay it cause it's pretty cool to hear a story once in awhile. It's nothing super exciting, but it happened to me and being self-absorbed that's all that matters.

Prelude:

My bike was pretty messy when I bought it. I overpaid for a run down, un-cared for Shawk, and was one of the better happenings of poor judgment that I've had to date. I've been in and out of the carbs, heads, valves and with the help of this forum can safely say I know more about motorcycles than I ever thought I would. Already getting off track here, so let's zero in on the point. The bike has broken down on me a couple of times for various reasons since I've owned it. I've had it die on the freeway for a couple of common problems (running with the choke fully engaged on the freeway tends to flood it!). All seemed to be due to neglect, and once I repaired the split vacuum lines or airbox issues, the particular problem never happened again. Needless to say, I was familiar with the breakdown routine.

Pull to side of road. Try to start bike. Look over shoulder. Think about who I could call to come give me a hand. Think about leaving bike on side of road. Think about how easily bike could be loaded on determined criminal's truck. Think about how easily determined criminal could drop bike in loading process (aaa!). Try to start bike. Wonder how long A123cell batteries will last in 110 degree heat starting over a huge L-twin motor. Look over shoulder. Try to sta.... put put put brrraaauuummmm! Ok, we're started. Limp home on back roads. Diagnose problem. Fix bike. Ride around for a few weeks making sure said problem won't recur. Start process over with different problem.

Two things to take from this. 1) It's not the bike's fault. It's usually the PO or me trying something new that causes this. 2) When my bike sputters and stops, I am already in my head trying to diagnose the problem.

Main Story:

Had just finished working on some carb boot issues over the weekend. I had the tank on and off and the bike running and stopped for awhile and didn't keep track of the fuel level. My 600rr gauges don't read the fuel sender properly, so I just go by trip odometer (you can probably already tell what issue this may cause). Decide it's ready to commute to work Wed/Thurs/Friday. Coming home in the HOV lane on the 1-10 in Phoenix and the bike sputters and stops.

I'm stuck. Bike won't start. Go through previously described routine for about 15 minutes. I'm pulled over on the far left lane of rush hour traffic. We're talking, I'm slammed over into an area similar to this:



So I have HOV cars bloin' by me at 60mph, 3 full lanes of traffic next to that and no way to get out. The longer I'm there, the more I just look back because I figure it's only a matter of time before some Expedition wander's it's HOV lane boundaries into my little space. I'm texting to feel out my options, still wondering how the hell this A123cell battery can continue trying after 15 minutes without signs of slowing down, and checking over my shoulder. I can probably jump the median in time if Johhny wanderer happens upon me. Bike will be toast, but gotta stay ready to jump. As I'm about to call a friend to drive south in traffic just to turn around and drive north to pick me up, figure out some way to keep the bike on the side and deal with towing when a very large F-150 extended cab pulls right in front of me. Really going to have to be ready to jump now cause if a car comes I will be in a car/motorcycle/human/car sandwich.

The driver pops out, looks back at me, and asks, "What'd you do?" "Dude, I have no idea, I broke my bike and it won't start." "Damn, this is no place to be broken down. How 'bout you hook it up to my tow rack and I get you outta here." "Uh, what?" I glance at his truck and low and behold he has one of those motorcycle hitches where you roll the front tire up into a little basket, jack the bike up and it chases the truck around on it's back tire like a dog trying to mount the bed of the truck. I stand there watching him hook it up; I offer to help but he clearly has a routine that I would get in the way of. So I just stand like a helpless bro in my graphically loud "look at me, I'm on a motorcycle" yellow reflective backpack and helmet. Bike's hooked up. I have to time traffic to jump in the passenger side so that a happy commuter doesn't rip off the truck's wide swinging door as they cruise to their place of residence.

"Where do you live?" I tell him my cross streets and just tell him if he gets me to a parking lot he will have saved my little rump from imminent danger. He starts driving and we chat up ASU stories. He apparently rebuilds Goldwings (had custom chopper stickers all over the truck) and has been in the area for a long time. He has to stop for gas and I offer to pay for the fillup: "No way, man, if I take your money, it ruins the Karma". I'm fully expecting him to drop me off and let me take car of myself, but he drives me ALL THE WAY TO MY GARAGE. Talking with him the whole time, he doesn't hesitate to have real conversation and drops f-bombs like we were best buds since high school. I can't thank him enough, he turns down a second offer of financial thanks from me, and just tells me to look him up as the guy on craigslist selling Goldwing parts to grab a beer sometime. Maybe I'll take him up on that sometime.

Epilogue:

So I'm at home with my bike in my garage. I have a whole Friday night again, when just 45 minutes earlier I was planning on dealing with towing companies, fixing a bike and in general being frustrated all weekend. I go to move my bike and without the freeway noise I notice I hear not a single slosh of gas. Open the tank.... Bone. Dry. Pour some gas in and it starts right up. Now I don't even have a broken motorcycle. In all the mayhem of fixing the bike I just forgot to re-fill the tank! It's not broken because of the work I did recently; I'm just a moron who decided 4.2 gallons isn't a real number and I could ride using magic and/or my starter alone. But now I can ride tomorrow! If I had just commuted home I would have been in a decent mood, but because my bike broke down and I was stranded I can't get a smile off of my face. Some fellow biker dude went out of his way to turn my shitty day into an awesome one.

Like I said, the actual story isn't ground breaking, but made me feel damn good to be a motorcyclist, figured I'd share it

 

Cool, there are a few decent people around here.

 

Awesome story!

I have earned some Good Karma over the years doing things like that, and been the recipient of a helping hand or two when I needed it most. Pay it forward!

 

Good story and pretty funny.... So when are we going riding?
Of corse I asked you that in a different thread and got no answer....maybe that was a hint....

 

Man, I read a lot of the posts on here, but must have missed that one! You get all moved? I'm down to ride, kinda a bit "brrrr" up north still tho

 

I've been on both sides of that story, best one was stopping for a Harley rider who almost refused my help. He was very reluctant and almost embarrassed to accept help from someone riding a rice-burner, but i think i may have actually converted him when I told him, if it has 2 wheels then you're still my brother.

 

That's awesome there are some cool people out there who just want to help. I've always tried to help folks out I've seen broken down hoping that when I need help one day it comes back around. I guess if you're a decent person it just feels nice to help someone in need sometimes. I did get a blowout once in my car and had a good two mile hike to the next exit (carrying the obligatory flat spare on shoulder that I couldn't fill because I loaned my pump to a kid in the neighborhood with a flat bicycle tire lol). Guy with his little econobox wallpapered with jesus stickers pulls over and takes me down the road. What a nice guy. And all the while his wife is giving him a hard time on the cell for running late and he doesn't even get himself out of it by saying he's helping someone...

 

+1

Great story Ian. I've owned my hawk for quite a while now and I've never had one hiccup.
I can't imagine how I would have felt stuck in the middle like that, especially given today's distracted drivers.

 

superhawk22 i did the same thing on my drz 400 pulled up you all right dude hes like outa gas im like i got four gallons ill give you some he wouldnt take it for ever i damn near had to twist his arm

 

There's a line in pulp fiction that fits nicely, something about PRIDE.

 

Thanks for sharing the story. Good to know there are still people out their willing to help in any situation. In todays society it's somewhat of a rare accurance, sadly.