I
Ions001
Guest
My wife and I purchased our first motorcycle a little over a year and a half ago. I noticed that as I rode around town other motocyclists would wave as they passed by. I like to think of myself as freindly, so I quickly became acustomed to the wave, and started looking forward to it as I rode.
One weekend we decide to get out of the Mesa, AZ heat by riding up through the northern part of the state. We left of friday afternoon, and spent the night in Payson (about 80 miles north), with the thought of getting an early start.
The next morning we start out at 8:00am. About 15 miles north of Payson, at about 60 MPH, the back tire picks up a nail off the road and blows out. By shear luck we didn't go down, but coasted wobbilly over to the side of the road. A little shaken by the blowout, and without a cell phone, we figured we better take some water and begin walking back to the nearest location with a phone.
Just then a large Ford F250 pulled off the road and a young man of about 25 yrs jumped out and asked if we were okay. I explained what had just happened with the tire. Without hesitating, he picked up his cell and called a friend of his who showed up in about 10 minutes. They helped us load the bike up onto the truck and he began to explain: "Theres a bike shop just down the hill from Payson, they know me there. They usually give me 20% off on tires, and I'll see if they'll do it for you."
He drives us to the shop, speaks with the owner and we unload the bike. He tells me that it'll take them about 45 minutes with the tire. He invites us to a quick soda and sandwich while we wait, and he hangs out with us until the bike is complete. He tells us about his bike, and recommends some great ride routes as we pass the time.
Were it not for him, we would have really had a hard time. When I asked him what I could do to repay him for all his time and kindness. His anser: "Hey... just pass it on."
That right there is what comes to mind everytime now when I see someone else riding past me and I raise my clutch hand to wave. It's the automatic comradery. It reminds me that I need to "just pass it on."
One weekend we decide to get out of the Mesa, AZ heat by riding up through the northern part of the state. We left of friday afternoon, and spent the night in Payson (about 80 miles north), with the thought of getting an early start.
The next morning we start out at 8:00am. About 15 miles north of Payson, at about 60 MPH, the back tire picks up a nail off the road and blows out. By shear luck we didn't go down, but coasted wobbilly over to the side of the road. A little shaken by the blowout, and without a cell phone, we figured we better take some water and begin walking back to the nearest location with a phone.
Just then a large Ford F250 pulled off the road and a young man of about 25 yrs jumped out and asked if we were okay. I explained what had just happened with the tire. Without hesitating, he picked up his cell and called a friend of his who showed up in about 10 minutes. They helped us load the bike up onto the truck and he began to explain: "Theres a bike shop just down the hill from Payson, they know me there. They usually give me 20% off on tires, and I'll see if they'll do it for you."
He drives us to the shop, speaks with the owner and we unload the bike. He tells me that it'll take them about 45 minutes with the tire. He invites us to a quick soda and sandwich while we wait, and he hangs out with us until the bike is complete. He tells us about his bike, and recommends some great ride routes as we pass the time.
Were it not for him, we would have really had a hard time. When I asked him what I could do to repay him for all his time and kindness. His anser: "Hey... just pass it on."
That right there is what comes to mind everytime now when I see someone else riding past me and I raise my clutch hand to wave. It's the automatic comradery. It reminds me that I need to "just pass it on."
Nice to know there are nice people out there.
