It’s that sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. That’s a common reaction when you’re in the middle of nowhere and your bike dies on you. Of course, it’s a pretty rare occurrence if you’re on a newer Vulcan 1700 Nomad or Yamaha FJR1300A. But if you ride them long enough and don’t take care of them properly, it can happen even on a bike like that.
However, chances are you’re on an old bike and it’s just showing its age. Or you were just thoughtless and ran out of gas. Who hasn’t done it at least once?
Whatever. You’re out there and the bike is dead. Give, give, give. And double damn, you pull out your cell phone and it’s dead too. Argh!! Now what?
Then, as you contemplate your options and play around trying to resolve the situation, a guy on another bike shows up and lo and behold, he stops. You’re relieved but you’re not really surprised, or at least you shouldn’t be. It’s the biker code. If a brother of the way has problems along the way, you stop and help him. That’s the way it is.
Okay, sure, some riders will just pass you by. Apparently they didn’t get the memo. But most of the time, other bikers stop. And it doesn’t matter what kind of bike you’re on. Those black-leather-clad, tattooed guys on American-built V-twin cruisers are generally thought to have disdain for Japanese bikes like their Kawis or their Suzukis or their Yamahas, but they still stop. Because they believe and practice the biker code. And it works in the other direction too.
Case in point. I was heading home after a track day riding my Kawasaki Concours. The engine died and I rolled to a stop. Not two minutes later, a guy on a Harley pulled up and asked what he could do to help. He still hadn’t had time to even investigate the cause, so he offered some suggestions of things to check. We tried those without success, so he asked me if he wanted to use his cell phone to call for help. I called my wife to let her know the situation and asked her to call for help, I gave her phone back and she left.
Just two minutes later, another guy in another squad car stopped to help. We went through the same checklist, and while we were doing it, I had a crazy idea. Do! The kill switch. The engine died right after I reached over to adjust the throttle lockout and accidentally hit the kill switch. I put it back in the run position, hit the starter, and the Connie fired up. Yes, I felt like an idiot. I borrowed the second man’s cell phone to call my wife and tell her to cancel the calls she had requested, I thanked her and we both continued on our way.
I could tell many of those stories. I stop a lot to take pictures and more than once another rider has stopped to ask me if I’m having trouble. I always thank them profusely and assure them I’m fine, but thank you so much for stopping by to check.
And you better believe that I mean to stop if I see anyone stop. I’ll even do it if I’m in my car. Just because you’re not on a bike doesn’t mean the biker code doesn’t apply, at least to the way I think. And just like me, most of the time they’re fine. But if they need help, it feels great to be able to offer it. It is, after all, the biker’s code.