Kind of a convoluted story, but it does come around to the thread title. My other than riding passion is multi hull sailing and racing. A long time ago the Skagette and I ditched the kids, hooked up the Hobie 16 and headed headed for the mountains for a weekend of camping and sailing. Got to a camping spot very late and had not watched the gas gauge, I realized in the morning I was on dead empty. And bigger than shit, ran out on the way back down the hill to the only store/station within miles. I thumb a ride to the store, buy a can and 5 gallons and thumb a ride back. Pour the gas and the car is at an angle on the shoulder and 5 gallons doesnt fill to the sender and no amount of priming will get it started and ran the battery down trying. Now we were on a pretty lightly traveled road and it was early in the season. The only 2 cars Id seen up to now were the one that gave me a ride to get gas and the ride back. Im pissed, wifey is tripping and WTF, a low rider Chevy pulls up and stops and three 1% ers from hell emerge. I swear these guys were caricatures of 1%ers, prison tats and all,these guys could be bad fucking news. They were kind of amused as I told my tale of woe. And went to work, siphoned their own gas and gave me a jump and got me going. I couldnt believe my luck, as we were wrapping up I asked the ringleader how come they went so far out of their way to give me a hand. He gets this grin and says a while back he "went down on his scoot" was on the side of the road all fucked up and the only one to stop was towing "one of them little boats". The guy got his bike up and running, straightened some stuff, got him bandaged and on his way. He says "so I tells myself, them guys with them little boats,man they're OK"
Took some cash for their effort and promised to blow it on a round of schnapps.