Hello folks, my name is Gord, and I am new to motorcycles and internet forums in general, so please bear with me. I am 62 years old (as of last Tuesday!), and I used to ride motorcycles when I was much younger, and they were much simpler. After not riding for almost 40 years, this year I started riding again with the encouragement of my son. In short, after spending some practice afternoons together in empty parking lots, my son figured I was ready for the next step. He booked my rider training course at Humber College, which I can proudly say that I passed, and my graduation gift was my son's old 1981 CB650CA, which he had purchased as his first bike three years ago. The past few months have been incredibly happy and fun, as I have really enjoyed getting back to motorcycling, and being able to go on Saturday rides with my son on his bike, has been such a blessing. My old bike has been dead reliable, not a problem at all, until today. Which leads to my story.
After having dinner with my son and his family, I was heading home (on my bike of course!), as the weather looked a bit threatening. I was about halfway home when all of a sudden my bike started losing power, and not running very well. I managed to get off the main avenue I was traveling on, and safely turned onto a side street. Then my bike just stopped. I tried starting it and starting it, but the bike would not run. I don't have a lot of knowledge regarding motorcycles or autos too, so needless to say, I was stranded. I kept trying to start the bike, but soon enough, the lights would not even turn on, and I had drained the battery. I was standing beside my bike on the street, wondering if I should call my son, who unfortunately inherited his father's lack of mechanical knowledge, when a bike came zipping around the corner and was headed down the street towards me. The rider was on a sports bike, and he saw me and slowed down and pulled up beside me. He opened his helmet shield, and asked me if I was okay. I told him what had happened, and he pulled over in front of me, and was very quickly looking at my bike. He turned the key on, and noticed that my battery was dead, then he took the key and opened my gas cap. As soon as he did that, I knew I was going to look like a fool. He turned to me, and said simply, "You're out of gas sir". he then looked at my bike again and then told me "and you were already on reserve". Let's just say I felt so foolish, as I knew I had switched to reserve earlier today, and I just forgot. When my bike stalled, I was so flustered, that I didn't even think to check if I had fuel. I started to talk, well stammer a bit, and this rider obviously could tell i was a bit embarrassed, as he then told me "Sir, it's not a big deal. We've all run out of gas at some point. Wait here, I'll be back in 10 minutes" He then jumped back on his motorcycle and raced off down the street. I felt relieved that I had some help, and I proceeded to call my son to let him know what was happening. While I was talking to my son, I heard a motorcycle coming closer, and I saw it was the young man from before. He said he went home to drop off his backpack, and was now headed to the gas station to get some gas for me. He then sped off again, and I continued telling my son about the whole ordeal. Within 5 minutes the lad was back again, and he hopped off his motorcycle and pulled a small jerry can of fuel out of his knapsack. He took off his helmet and gloves, and he again told me not to worry about this, it was not a big deal. We chatted as he got the jerry can ready to fill my motorcycle, and I thanked him for stopping to help, and getting gas for me, but he kept telling me that it was not a big deal, and that I would do the same for him. He quickly filled my motorcycle with fuel, and tried starting it again, but my steed was without power. My new friend asked me if I was comfortable bump starting a bike, and I told him that I had done it long ago in my youth, but I knew what to do. He politely told me that he was going to push my motorcycle, and I was to do the riding, and if that was fine. Considering that he was a large, well put together lad, the idea of him doing the hard work was fine with me, although I felt badly. So we got set, I turned on the key, and pulled in the clutch, and pretty soon he had my bike and I going at a good clip. he told me to let out the clutch and I did, but the bike didn't start. He was still pushing and told me to try again, but no luck. We had gone about a block, so we turned around a repeated the action going the other way, but again the bike wouldn't start. As I was rolling to a stop, he looked over the bike again, and he turned to me, and without a hint of frustration or anger in his voice, he asked me if I had turned my switch to "run" when we were trying to start the bike earlier. For the second time since I had met him, I felt like a complete fool. I told him no, and he just started to laugh, and said "Well this time it will work then" Just as we started going down the street, he asked me if I was in second gear, and I told him no, first gear. As we picked up speed he said we would have much better luck trying this in second, so I changed to second, and let the clutch lever loose. My bike roared to life!! I was so happy, I rode for another block, before realizing I better turn back. As I rode back to where we started i pulled to a stop[, and turned off my bike. Yes, I actually did something that foolish. My friend just looked at me for a second, and started to laugh again. He said the look on my face was so funny, and I felt so badly, because I knew he would have to push myself and my bike down the block again. Once again he pushed me along the street, and now that I knew what I was doing, the bike roared to life again. I got back to his bike, and kept it running this time. I honestly felt terrible. This lad was sweating profusely, and he looked like he needed a drink. I thanked him for all his help, and apologized for making him work so hard. He just laughed and told me it was no big deal. He then told me the reason he was sweating, was that 5 minutes before he stopped to help me, he had spent 10 minutes at the gas station helping out another rider with a stalled bike. He had pushed this other rider around the gas station parking lot for 10 minutes until they finally got the motorcycle started down a hill. I couldn't believe that this lad was so willing to help others. We chatted a bit longer, and he told me that everything comes around, and that by helping me, he was actually helping himself. He then told me that he worked at a motorcycle shop called Z1 Cycletech, and that if I was ever in the area, to make sure to come by and say "Hi" He said he had to get going, as his dogs were waiting for him, and he started to put his gear back on. I reached into my wallet, and I took out $40, which I wanted to give to him for all his help. But he refused to take my money, and just told me that if I ever saw another rider broken down, if I were to stop and help, that would be more than enough payment. He got back on his motorcycle, checked again that I was fine, and said he would follow me a bit to make sure everything was running properly. We rode to the gas station and after I pulled up to the pumps (and turned my fuel petcock back to on), he said goodbye, told me to ride safe, and rode back the way we came. It was at that point I realized I didn't even know his name. What I do know is that he is an Asian lad, with short hair, ear rings, and he has a blue Yamaha sport bike. I pulled out a pen and paper and wrote down "Z1" on a piece of paper, so i would not forget. I got home and told my son the whole story, and he knew of the shop, Z1 Cycletech immediately. Unfortunately he did not know the lad I described, but he told me that I should join this web forum, and tell my story, and someone will know who helped me out this evening. I apologize for such a long, old man narrative, and I hope that all of you didn't fall asleep. Thank you for allowing me to tell my story, and to the lad that helped out a total stranger on a motorcycle today (who knows absolutely nothing about motorcycles, but maybe a bit more then he did before), I can't thank you enough. I will never pass a fellow rider in need ever.
Gord
After having dinner with my son and his family, I was heading home (on my bike of course!), as the weather looked a bit threatening. I was about halfway home when all of a sudden my bike started losing power, and not running very well. I managed to get off the main avenue I was traveling on, and safely turned onto a side street. Then my bike just stopped. I tried starting it and starting it, but the bike would not run. I don't have a lot of knowledge regarding motorcycles or autos too, so needless to say, I was stranded. I kept trying to start the bike, but soon enough, the lights would not even turn on, and I had drained the battery. I was standing beside my bike on the street, wondering if I should call my son, who unfortunately inherited his father's lack of mechanical knowledge, when a bike came zipping around the corner and was headed down the street towards me. The rider was on a sports bike, and he saw me and slowed down and pulled up beside me. He opened his helmet shield, and asked me if I was okay. I told him what had happened, and he pulled over in front of me, and was very quickly looking at my bike. He turned the key on, and noticed that my battery was dead, then he took the key and opened my gas cap. As soon as he did that, I knew I was going to look like a fool. He turned to me, and said simply, "You're out of gas sir". he then looked at my bike again and then told me "and you were already on reserve". Let's just say I felt so foolish, as I knew I had switched to reserve earlier today, and I just forgot. When my bike stalled, I was so flustered, that I didn't even think to check if I had fuel. I started to talk, well stammer a bit, and this rider obviously could tell i was a bit embarrassed, as he then told me "Sir, it's not a big deal. We've all run out of gas at some point. Wait here, I'll be back in 10 minutes" He then jumped back on his motorcycle and raced off down the street. I felt relieved that I had some help, and I proceeded to call my son to let him know what was happening. While I was talking to my son, I heard a motorcycle coming closer, and I saw it was the young man from before. He said he went home to drop off his backpack, and was now headed to the gas station to get some gas for me. He then sped off again, and I continued telling my son about the whole ordeal. Within 5 minutes the lad was back again, and he hopped off his motorcycle and pulled a small jerry can of fuel out of his knapsack. He took off his helmet and gloves, and he again told me not to worry about this, it was not a big deal. We chatted as he got the jerry can ready to fill my motorcycle, and I thanked him for stopping to help, and getting gas for me, but he kept telling me that it was not a big deal, and that I would do the same for him. He quickly filled my motorcycle with fuel, and tried starting it again, but my steed was without power. My new friend asked me if I was comfortable bump starting a bike, and I told him that I had done it long ago in my youth, but I knew what to do. He politely told me that he was going to push my motorcycle, and I was to do the riding, and if that was fine. Considering that he was a large, well put together lad, the idea of him doing the hard work was fine with me, although I felt badly. So we got set, I turned on the key, and pulled in the clutch, and pretty soon he had my bike and I going at a good clip. he told me to let out the clutch and I did, but the bike didn't start. He was still pushing and told me to try again, but no luck. We had gone about a block, so we turned around a repeated the action going the other way, but again the bike wouldn't start. As I was rolling to a stop, he looked over the bike again, and he turned to me, and without a hint of frustration or anger in his voice, he asked me if I had turned my switch to "run" when we were trying to start the bike earlier. For the second time since I had met him, I felt like a complete fool. I told him no, and he just started to laugh, and said "Well this time it will work then" Just as we started going down the street, he asked me if I was in second gear, and I told him no, first gear. As we picked up speed he said we would have much better luck trying this in second, so I changed to second, and let the clutch lever loose. My bike roared to life!! I was so happy, I rode for another block, before realizing I better turn back. As I rode back to where we started i pulled to a stop[, and turned off my bike. Yes, I actually did something that foolish. My friend just looked at me for a second, and started to laugh again. He said the look on my face was so funny, and I felt so badly, because I knew he would have to push myself and my bike down the block again. Once again he pushed me along the street, and now that I knew what I was doing, the bike roared to life again. I got back to his bike, and kept it running this time. I honestly felt terrible. This lad was sweating profusely, and he looked like he needed a drink. I thanked him for all his help, and apologized for making him work so hard. He just laughed and told me it was no big deal. He then told me the reason he was sweating, was that 5 minutes before he stopped to help me, he had spent 10 minutes at the gas station helping out another rider with a stalled bike. He had pushed this other rider around the gas station parking lot for 10 minutes until they finally got the motorcycle started down a hill. I couldn't believe that this lad was so willing to help others. We chatted a bit longer, and he told me that everything comes around, and that by helping me, he was actually helping himself. He then told me that he worked at a motorcycle shop called Z1 Cycletech, and that if I was ever in the area, to make sure to come by and say "Hi" He said he had to get going, as his dogs were waiting for him, and he started to put his gear back on. I reached into my wallet, and I took out $40, which I wanted to give to him for all his help. But he refused to take my money, and just told me that if I ever saw another rider broken down, if I were to stop and help, that would be more than enough payment. He got back on his motorcycle, checked again that I was fine, and said he would follow me a bit to make sure everything was running properly. We rode to the gas station and after I pulled up to the pumps (and turned my fuel petcock back to on), he said goodbye, told me to ride safe, and rode back the way we came. It was at that point I realized I didn't even know his name. What I do know is that he is an Asian lad, with short hair, ear rings, and he has a blue Yamaha sport bike. I pulled out a pen and paper and wrote down "Z1" on a piece of paper, so i would not forget. I got home and told my son the whole story, and he knew of the shop, Z1 Cycletech immediately. Unfortunately he did not know the lad I described, but he told me that I should join this web forum, and tell my story, and someone will know who helped me out this evening. I apologize for such a long, old man narrative, and I hope that all of you didn't fall asleep. Thank you for allowing me to tell my story, and to the lad that helped out a total stranger on a motorcycle today (who knows absolutely nothing about motorcycles, but maybe a bit more then he did before), I can't thank you enough. I will never pass a fellow rider in need ever.
Gord
