couple of stories from opposite ends of the speectrum. many years ago i had just bought my first 'big' bike, a cb400n superdream, dont laugh, after riding 125's, it was a proper machine. anyhow, first timee out off to devils bridge and on the way home having mistakenly forgotten to turn the fuel back to main tank from reserve, id run it dry of fuel, as i sat wondering what to do a guy on a blade pulled over, i told him i was out of gas and figured he might give me a lift to the services so i could get a can of juice. instead he started stripping his honda, and because we hadnt a can or pipe between us, he took his tank off and after some manhandling, drained a couple of pints of four star directly into my tank and then after we rplaced his tank, followed m the 15 mils or so to the services so i could fill up. he wouldnt take a penny but i will forever be grateful to the guy.
flipside to it, my job taks me up and down the m6 a lot and one day as i was heading north to penrith i saw a guy on the southbound carriageway pushing a bike up the sliproad at kirby lonsdale, nothing i could do, so i kept on going, but, a couple of hours later, on thee way back with the sun setting i decided to just run up the ramp where id seen him, to see if he was still there, theres nothing at that junction, at least there wasnt then, and yes, he was sat on thee verge next to a very dead kawasaki twin. i stopped and h told me he was heading to his mates house in warrington but th bike was dead, and he didnt have a mobile phone (remember those days when a phone was a rarity!) hed called his mate from a phone box, but his mate was working in the day so he couldnt get in touch. i lived in preston at the time, so said we could lob the bike in my van, and i would take him to my place, then he could ring his mate from my phone and sort for him to run up to junction 31 and collect him from there. it was winter time so pretty cold and darkening at about 4pm, by the time we got to mine at just aftr 5 it was pitch black and pissing down, he called his pal, who by then had come home and was heading up to collect him, so i made the guy a brew and as he looked a bit miserable, cooked him some tea. we drove to the motorway junction and his mate rolled up in his van, we unloaded the little kwak, and pushed it to his mates van, whilst they loaded it into his i turned round and put the ramp back in mine and rolled up the straps. i turned to say my goodbyes, to be confronted by the tail lights of thee van disapearing round the corner and onto the motorway, no thank you's kiss my arse or anything, he just upped and went. id still stop today, and in fact still do, but i'll never forget that tosser, all it would have taken would be a handshake and thank you, but he just went.
