Monday Motorcycle Mania

So, last night was a nice evening and Steve and I thought we'd take a little drive on the motorcycle. We opted for Parley's because we haven't done many canyon runs together, and that one isn't too twisty. We decided we'd go up Parley's head out past Jordanelle, drive around Kamas a little, and head home. If only things had gone that smoothly...

The ride up Parley's was uneventful, if you don't count the huge cold pockets at the summit. We headed down the other side and made our way past Park City. All of a sudden, I saw Steve shake his head and pull off to the shoulder. Not knowing what was going on, and thinking something was wrong with the bike I got off and noticed that there was a Highway Patrol officer behind us. One speeding ticket later, we were back on the road to continue our journey.

We, uneventfully, made it the rest of the way, stopped for a break in Kamas for some water, and headed back for home. By this time it was dark and starting to get pretty cold. Not to mention we were both a little saddle sore from a fairly long ride. As we were going home things were going fairly smoothly. We went back past Park City, Jeremy Ranch, and headed back up Parley's. We'd just gone over the summit when the bike started to sputter. And then it died. We coasted our way to the side of the road, just at the top of the Lamb's Canyon on-ramp.

Steve attempted to restart the bike several times, to no avail. He flipped it over to the reserve tank... still nothing. We stood there for a bit, hoping someone would stop, and knowing no one would. We were right around a bend, and most people couldn't see us until they'd passed. Steve had just decided we'd have to coast down the shoulder until we got to the bottom of the canyon (not something I wanted to do, a little too dangerous for my taste), when I noticed 2 sets of headlights on parked cars at the bottom of the on-ramp.

After making a quick decision that serial killers wouldn't be hanging out there, we walked down and asked for help. The first car drove away without even an, "I'm sorry." The second car, however, happened to have 2 empty seats and the willingness to help us out. They drove us clear back to the Jeremy Ranch gas station, took us back to our bike, hung out to make sure we got the tank filled and the bike started, and then offered to drive the gas can back to the store and meet us there.

Needless to say, we were extremely grateful. Who new that our rescue crew would be 3 barely legal, foul-mouthed, chain smokers from Park City. Nevertheless, we were grateful that anyone was willing to help at all... especially as much as they did. So, a big "thank you" to Walker, Carson, and black tank top kid for taking pity on two stranded people.

I think it's time that Steve fixes the gas gauge on the bike, how about you?