Story Book
- bobcat
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Story Book
Laying here in my hospital bed, bored beyond words, I thought this might be a good place
to tell some stories about some of the unusual optimistic experiences I've had over the many
years (that I wish I had back) behaving like a young immortal.
Hitting reserve; a prelude to a longer story:
I was roaming around the Texas Hill Country not far from home on Lake Travis riding my
76 CB750F when the motor started cutting out and then quit completely. I reached down
for the reserve petcock setting to find that it was already on reserve. Somewhat alarmed
I pulled to the side of the road to start problem solving. looking around I realized I was
not close to any signs of civilization and pushing that heavy lug anywhere was out of the
question so my only option was to wait in the afternoon sun and try to flag down the rare
passing vehicle and try to get them to get some gas for me.
Alarm no. two; I opened my wallet to find I only had $2 (long before credit cards) and if
the willing soul had nothing to hold gas, the stations would want a large deposit to use
their cans.
All I could do is hope to get lucky and meanwhile try to improvise a syphon hose using all
the vent tubes and fuel lines I could piece together from what was on the bike.
After about 20 min. of waiting, a car full of partying kids pull up behind me and asked if
I needed help ! I explained my situation and asked if they had anything that would hold
gas and that I only needed just enough to get to a gas station. All they had was a bunch of
empty beer bottles and cans and no way to seal them so I reluctantly suggested they could
take my fuel tank (custom painted) and my $2 with them and just pray they would bring
it back. The driver handed me a beer and away they went.
Now I really felt vulnerable sitting on the side of the road with a bike without not only
fuel but no tank either. I might never see them again and they all (six) were pretty well
plastered but quite friendly.
After about a half hour they came rolling up and opened the trunk and handed me the full
to the brim tank (not a scratch on it) and my $2 and another beer ! I thanked them profusely
and offered to drain some of the gas into their car but they declined, wished me well and away
they went cheerfully waving their beers out the windows.
I had to return the favor to someone, somewhere, somehow, every chance I get because I received
far more than a tank of gas that afternoon
to tell some stories about some of the unusual optimistic experiences I've had over the many
years (that I wish I had back) behaving like a young immortal.
Hitting reserve; a prelude to a longer story:
I was roaming around the Texas Hill Country not far from home on Lake Travis riding my
76 CB750F when the motor started cutting out and then quit completely. I reached down
for the reserve petcock setting to find that it was already on reserve. Somewhat alarmed
I pulled to the side of the road to start problem solving. looking around I realized I was
not close to any signs of civilization and pushing that heavy lug anywhere was out of the
question so my only option was to wait in the afternoon sun and try to flag down the rare
passing vehicle and try to get them to get some gas for me.
Alarm no. two; I opened my wallet to find I only had $2 (long before credit cards) and if
the willing soul had nothing to hold gas, the stations would want a large deposit to use
their cans.
All I could do is hope to get lucky and meanwhile try to improvise a syphon hose using all
the vent tubes and fuel lines I could piece together from what was on the bike.
After about 20 min. of waiting, a car full of partying kids pull up behind me and asked if
I needed help ! I explained my situation and asked if they had anything that would hold
gas and that I only needed just enough to get to a gas station. All they had was a bunch of
empty beer bottles and cans and no way to seal them so I reluctantly suggested they could
take my fuel tank (custom painted) and my $2 with them and just pray they would bring
it back. The driver handed me a beer and away they went.
Now I really felt vulnerable sitting on the side of the road with a bike without not only
fuel but no tank either. I might never see them again and they all (six) were pretty well
plastered but quite friendly.
After about a half hour they came rolling up and opened the trunk and handed me the full
to the brim tank (not a scratch on it) and my $2 and another beer ! I thanked them profusely
and offered to drain some of the gas into their car but they declined, wished me well and away
they went cheerfully waving their beers out the windows.
I had to return the favor to someone, somewhere, somehow, every chance I get because I received
far more than a tank of gas that afternoon
Bob
82 CBX, 81 CBX, CB1100F, 79/82 CB900F (avatar)
82 CBX, 81 CBX, CB1100F, 79/82 CB900F (avatar)
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Re: Story Book
Great story
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Re: Story Book
Good story Bob!!! Pay it forward. And you have, by posting so much mechanical wisdom here. Thanks.
Rick Pope
Either garage is too small or we have too many bikes. Or Momma's car needs to go outside.
Either garage is too small or we have too many bikes. Or Momma's car needs to go outside.
- Jeff Bennetts
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Re: Story Book
Thanks for the story Bob, keep them coming!
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Re: Story Book
That was a fun read, Bob.
- bobcat
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Re: Story Book
Thanks guys. There's many more when I can type more.
Bob
82 CBX, 81 CBX, CB1100F, 79/82 CB900F (avatar)
82 CBX, 81 CBX, CB1100F, 79/82 CB900F (avatar)
- bobcat
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Re: Story Book
Time for another entry in the book.
John Duffey
It was a rare college weekend that that I found myself with nothing to do. All my friends were either
out of town or had other commitments so I decided to climb on my CB500 four and just go wandering
and maybe find some hilly, twisty roads. The weather was great so I strapped on my sleeping bag and
headed north from Denton,Tx. into Oklahoma to a state park and camped(?) for the night. It's hard to
sleep when you don't have a tent and you can hear things moving through the bushes around you.
Early morning I continued to head north finding barely a slope anywhere, hit reserve and at least found
a gas station. When I pulled up to the pump there was an older gentleman on the other side filling up
his CB500 four ! An ironic hint of things to come ?
I introduced myself and commented on his bike. "Well hi there, John, John Duffey's the name". We talked
bikes for a few minutes and the conversation shifted to destinations. He was just out wandering too and
I told him I was hoping to find some hills or mountains to ride in. He perked up and asked if had ever heard
of Hwy. 1, the Talimena pkwy. ? I said no and he said follow me, it's not too far from here ! Cool I thought,
a tour guide ! We headed east toward Arkansas and I was delighted to start seeing some hills and forest but
still the road was mostly a straight line. He seemed to be quite familiar with the territory, especially a couple
of roadside bars we stopped at for a beer or two. We talked about families and occupations and he said his
wife and kids were back in Louisiana and he was in Ok. working on some oil leases. I told him I was a mere
college student at NTSU with no commitments. At the time I was 24 and he said he was 55.
When we rolled into the town of Talihina, Ok., things started to get real interesting real fast! Fork in the road
and we were on Hwy 1 and I began to notice a gain in altitude that was deceiving. Suddenly there was a scenic
overlook that was breathtaking ! Then there was one after another and it seemed as though we were looking
down at the world below on either side ! the road was spectacular and seemed to follow the ridge tops along
a mountain range. I was awestruck and leading the way through the very twisty turns, up and down at a pretty
good clip. I thought I'd better look back and see where John was and he was just a couple of bike lengths
behind. He had told me the story behind the Talimena pky. and the highest point, Queen Wilhelmena's mountain.
It was a state park where there had been a castle, later a hotel that had burned down several times in the past
and when we arrived it was charred ruins of the last structure surrounded by yellow tape and signs reading
KEEP OUT.
Well, that didn't keep us out and we went walking around in the charred mess just to see what we could find.
I wandered into what must have been the kitchen area and this stainless steel bowl caught my eye. Behold
it was filled with coins ! "Hey John, look what I found !" We excitedly headed for a park bench/table and started
counting the contents. Some coins were melted beyond use but most were in good shape. All total there was
enough there to pay for all of our gas and beer !
We decided to head back instead of riding to the end of the pkwy in Mena, Ak because we both had to be somewhere
the next day, Monday. We went west almost back to where we met and came to a true fork in the road and
parked in the middle of the Y shaped split. I thanked him profusely for showing me Hwy 1 and such a wonderful
time and he said he had a great time too and enjoyed the company. Our weekend turned out far from wandering
alone down different paths. We vowed to never forget each other and said our farewells. I made it home about
dusk with change in my pocket and a wealth of memories.
I've been back to the Pkwy. twice since then, once riding my CB900F with a couple of friends. Itis a spectacular
ride if you get the chance.
God Speed John as I know he was riding with us.
John Duffey
It was a rare college weekend that that I found myself with nothing to do. All my friends were either
out of town or had other commitments so I decided to climb on my CB500 four and just go wandering
and maybe find some hilly, twisty roads. The weather was great so I strapped on my sleeping bag and
headed north from Denton,Tx. into Oklahoma to a state park and camped(?) for the night. It's hard to
sleep when you don't have a tent and you can hear things moving through the bushes around you.
Early morning I continued to head north finding barely a slope anywhere, hit reserve and at least found
a gas station. When I pulled up to the pump there was an older gentleman on the other side filling up
his CB500 four ! An ironic hint of things to come ?
I introduced myself and commented on his bike. "Well hi there, John, John Duffey's the name". We talked
bikes for a few minutes and the conversation shifted to destinations. He was just out wandering too and
I told him I was hoping to find some hills or mountains to ride in. He perked up and asked if had ever heard
of Hwy. 1, the Talimena pkwy. ? I said no and he said follow me, it's not too far from here ! Cool I thought,
a tour guide ! We headed east toward Arkansas and I was delighted to start seeing some hills and forest but
still the road was mostly a straight line. He seemed to be quite familiar with the territory, especially a couple
of roadside bars we stopped at for a beer or two. We talked about families and occupations and he said his
wife and kids were back in Louisiana and he was in Ok. working on some oil leases. I told him I was a mere
college student at NTSU with no commitments. At the time I was 24 and he said he was 55.
When we rolled into the town of Talihina, Ok., things started to get real interesting real fast! Fork in the road
and we were on Hwy 1 and I began to notice a gain in altitude that was deceiving. Suddenly there was a scenic
overlook that was breathtaking ! Then there was one after another and it seemed as though we were looking
down at the world below on either side ! the road was spectacular and seemed to follow the ridge tops along
a mountain range. I was awestruck and leading the way through the very twisty turns, up and down at a pretty
good clip. I thought I'd better look back and see where John was and he was just a couple of bike lengths
behind. He had told me the story behind the Talimena pky. and the highest point, Queen Wilhelmena's mountain.
It was a state park where there had been a castle, later a hotel that had burned down several times in the past
and when we arrived it was charred ruins of the last structure surrounded by yellow tape and signs reading
KEEP OUT.
Well, that didn't keep us out and we went walking around in the charred mess just to see what we could find.
I wandered into what must have been the kitchen area and this stainless steel bowl caught my eye. Behold
it was filled with coins ! "Hey John, look what I found !" We excitedly headed for a park bench/table and started
counting the contents. Some coins were melted beyond use but most were in good shape. All total there was
enough there to pay for all of our gas and beer !
We decided to head back instead of riding to the end of the pkwy in Mena, Ak because we both had to be somewhere
the next day, Monday. We went west almost back to where we met and came to a true fork in the road and
parked in the middle of the Y shaped split. I thanked him profusely for showing me Hwy 1 and such a wonderful
time and he said he had a great time too and enjoyed the company. Our weekend turned out far from wandering
alone down different paths. We vowed to never forget each other and said our farewells. I made it home about
dusk with change in my pocket and a wealth of memories.
I've been back to the Pkwy. twice since then, once riding my CB900F with a couple of friends. Itis a spectacular
ride if you get the chance.
God Speed John as I know he was riding with us.
Bob
82 CBX, 81 CBX, CB1100F, 79/82 CB900F (avatar)
82 CBX, 81 CBX, CB1100F, 79/82 CB900F (avatar)
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Re: Story Book
Bob, that's a great story. That road is on my bucket list of rides, and has been for too long.
Rick Pope
Either garage is too small or we have too many bikes. Or Momma's car needs to go outside.
Either garage is too small or we have too many bikes. Or Momma's car needs to go outside.
- bobcat
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Re: Story Book
I've got some great picture from the 2nd trip on my 900 if I can just get home and get them scanned (film)
into the computer. So many things to do as time flies by.
I hope you can get there soon Rick !
into the computer. So many things to do as time flies by.
I hope you can get there soon Rick !
Bob
82 CBX, 81 CBX, CB1100F, 79/82 CB900F (avatar)
82 CBX, 81 CBX, CB1100F, 79/82 CB900F (avatar)
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Re: Story Book
Bob, I hope I can convince my wife to swing through there on our way home next month. We're in Bandera, TX for a month, then heading home for Easter. It wouldn't be out of the way.....
Rick Pope
Either garage is too small or we have too many bikes. Or Momma's car needs to go outside.
Either garage is too small or we have too many bikes. Or Momma's car needs to go outside.
- bobcat
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Re: Story Book
Bob, of course!!! I brought my GRiSO and my bride has her Spyder. The roads out here are awesome. BBQ is pretty good too.
Rick Pope
Either garage is too small or we have too many bikes. Or Momma's car needs to go outside.
Either garage is too small or we have too many bikes. Or Momma's car needs to go outside.
- bobcat
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Re: Story Book
Bobcat rules for traveling on a non fairing/windshield bike :
1. always wear a full face helmet
2.always carry a towel
3. Never avoid a strong headwind by drafting a cattle truck
1. always wear a full face helmet
2.always carry a towel
3. Never avoid a strong headwind by drafting a cattle truck
Bob
82 CBX, 81 CBX, CB1100F, 79/82 CB900F (avatar)
82 CBX, 81 CBX, CB1100F, 79/82 CB900F (avatar)
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Re: Story Book
Now I have coffee in my keyboard.
Bob, I'm with you on 1 and 3, but I'm not clear on 2. Maybe I need more coffee.
Bob, I'm with you on 1 and 3, but I'm not clear on 2. Maybe I need more coffee.
Rick Pope
Either garage is too small or we have too many bikes. Or Momma's car needs to go outside.
Either garage is too small or we have too many bikes. Or Momma's car needs to go outside.
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