Odd Encounter

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Nov 18, 2002
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The living corpse of San Francisco Ca USA
Interesting encounter the other night...I was riding home one night on the Triumph, heading west on one of our arterial streets. In my headlight I saw a motorcycle on the side of the road, one rider standing and girlfriend still on the back. The bike was on its side stand.
Naturally I pulled over to see if they needed help. They were Indian; he was in coat and tie, and she was wearing a lovely sari. Both were looking helpless.
The sari was the problem. The scarf part was wrapped around her neck, as per usual, and the other end was wrapped and through the chain and rear sprocket...she was being strangled and couldn't move. Looked like a frightened deer. She probably never heard of Isadora Duncan...
I cut the scarf away with my knife, they both looked relieved and she dismounted.
I put the bike on the centerstand, unwound the scarf and picked out the bits with my knife.
All better. Told him to buy himself a jack knife and rode off.

When I got home I looked up motorcycles in India and guess what! They come with sari guards screwed to the side of the bike!
 
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I've always found that bikers and truckers are the people most likely to stop and help others along the road.

Good on you for helping those people out!!
I would have agreed with you a few years ago. Bikers are still and have always been good people, but the current (young) group of truckers are a different breed.
 
That’s funny about the Sari guard on the Indian motorcycles.

You recently posted a picture of your Triumph here, didn’t you? Man what a great motorcycle.
 
You have some simple things happen while riding that sticks in your memory forever. I only went to Sturgis rally once, in1997. I was with a group of about 10 that rode out from Iowa. One of our group had parents that lived on a small ranch about 7 miles out of Sturgis on 90 and we camped there. Late one evening we headed to the campsite from the day at Sturgis and it was just dusk. I remember we came up on and passed this real old couple riding a Harley with a side car and they were running about 50mph. They just looked almost like ghost riders, and in my mind it was a perfect picture if a person could have caught a photo of them.
 
Lost my clutch cable a couple times. I taught myself to shift without a clutch early on. That particular skill was very useful for a struggling student.

Bikers do tend to watch over one another. Not so much with the graduates of International House of Pancakes and CDL Training Institute. By and large cell phones have made breakdown services very simple to reach.
 
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Good thing you were there to help them out. Were they riding a Royal Enfield?? I had a Royal Enfield Bullet 500 in British Racing Green with gold and red pinstriping. It was a beautiful machine and a pleasure to ride until the dealer gave it the 1st servicing and screwed up the timing.

As far as helping someone with a motorcycle, when I worked for the prison system the afternoon shift Watch Commander broke the shift pedal on his Harley. He found the pedal but rode in using a set of Visegrips to shift the machine. I recut the spline on the transmission shaft and inside the pedal. I used thin strips of shim stock to tighten the pedal on the shaft and then retapped the set screw hole to secure the pedal fully.
After that I was golden with all of the Watch Commanders so much that they all begged me to go on their shifts because they knew that things would run properly. One told me that I was worth more asleep than most of the other Engineers were when they were wide awake.
 
I've always found that bikers and truckers are the people most likely to stop and help others along the road.

Good on you for helping those people out!!
Was a time Jeepers were as well. But when the YJ came out and they became the preferred mall vehicle for teenage girls that all changed. Jeeps went from being relatively few owned by mostly nice people to almost every other vehicle on the road and owed by inconsiderate "individuals".
 
Bet he was sari he didn't get the guard.


czSUzICRJnXtm.webp
 
Back in 1971 or it might have been '72, I was stationed in Aurora, CO at the Fitzsimmons Army Hospital. My next door neighbor was in his last year of residency as a urologist, and had an NCO as his primary assistant, surgical tech. This NCO, with his wife and two children took a few days of leave to go south to Albuquerque for a family wedding. Along the way they saw a car on the side of the road with the hood up, and a young couple, holding a baby, standing beside the car. He stopped to offer help (this was decades before cell phones). We only know this story because this NCO was left for dead but somehow survived. The couple shot and killed his wife and two children, and left him seemingly mortally wounded. It seems that they had robbed a liquor store and were seeking to change to another car, and faked their being stranded along the highway. They were caught hours later. This NCO was treated and ultimately given a medical retirement due to the nature of the injuries that he suffered. Ever since that incident I have been more than hesitant to ever stop to render aid to anyone along the road. I have often called 911 and reported the location of the disabled car or truck, but in recent years have commonly been informed by the 911 dispatcher that they were already aware of the situation.
 
Stranded vehicle I will call today. Accident, especially if someone seems injured I can't not stop. Old habits. And one that has so far proven right. Then again I always have something with me when I exit my vehicle in addition to a well stock first aid bag.
 
Stranded vehicle I will call today. Accident, especially if someone seems injured I can't not stop. Old habits. And one that has so far proven right. Then again I always have something with me when I exit my vehicle in addition to a well stock first aid bag.
And a sidearm.
 
And a sidearm.
I think that's what Jeepnik meant by "something". There was an incident several years ago where a car was stopped with the hood up and 2 girls were looking at the engine. This was at night and 2 kids stopped to see if they could help. The car was stolen by 5 kids who escaped from a youth detention center. The 3 boys were hidden over the guard rail and when the guys that stopped were looking at the engine the 3 jumped them and beat them severely. The 5 drove off in the good Samaritans truck and were caught several hundred miles away.

A friend of mine was on an expressway in the city and got off because of an accident that closed the roadway. He said that he pulled up to a stop light and a young ghettoite pointed his finger like a gun and made like he was going to shoot my friend. My friend said that he wished he had stopped to witness to the kid and try to save the kid. I told him that it was probably best that he didn't stop because he could have been robbed or worse.
 
Interesting encounter the other night...I was riding home one night on the Triumph, heading west on one of our arterial streets. In my headlight I saw a motorcycle on the side of the road, one rider standing and girlfriend still on the back. The bike was on its side stand.
Naturally I pulled over to see if they needed help. They were Indian; he was in coat and tie, and she was wearing a lovely sari. Both were looking helpless.
The sari was the problem. The scarf part was wrapped around her neck, as per usual, and the other end was wrapped and through the chain and rear sprocket...she was being strangled and couldn't move. Looked like a frightened deer. She probably never heard of Isadora Duncan...
I cut the scarf away with my knife, they both looked relieved and she dismounted.
I put the bike on the centerstand, unwound the scarf and picked out the bits with my knife.
All better. Told him to buy himself a jack knife and rode off.

When I got home I looked up motorcycles in India and guess what! They come with sari guards screwed to the side of the bike!
Good for you. Understand the risks you took but glad you saved the day
 
Interesting encounter the other night...I was riding home one night on the Triumph, heading west on one of our arterial streets. In my headlight I saw a motorcycle on the side of the road, one rider standing and girlfriend still on the back. The bike was on its side stand.
Naturally I pulled over to see if they needed help. They were Indian; he was in coat and tie, and she was wearing a lovely sari. Both were looking helpless.
The sari was the problem. The scarf part was wrapped around her neck, as per usual, and the other end was wrapped and through the chain and rear sprocket...she was being strangled and couldn't move. Looked like a frightened deer. She probably never heard of Isadora Duncan...
I cut the scarf away with my knife, they both looked relieved and she dismounted.
I put the bike on the centerstand, unwound the scarf and picked out the bits with my knife.
All better. Told him to buy himself a jack knife and rode off.

When I got home I looked up motorcycles in India and guess what! They come with sari guards screwed to the side of the bike!
I am glad you shared this story. And thank you for helping them.

We can learn some by looking at bikes and riders from the rest of the world. Our local gas station is owned by some folks from the India corner of the world. One of the workers, kin of the owners, was quite interested in my Road King, and he shared that his motorcycle back home was diesel.

I'da never thought.:unsure:
 
I am glad you shared this story. And thank you for helping them.

We can learn some by looking at bikes and riders from the rest of the world. Our local gas station is owned by some folks from the India corner of the world. One of the workers, kin of the owners, was quite interested in my Road King, and he shared that his motorcycle back home was diesel.

I'da never thought.:unsure:
The Royal Enfield Taurus was a 325cc diesel motorcycle. The fuel efficiency was great but it was a dirty running thing.
 
Back in 1971 or it might have been '72, I was stationed in Aurora, CO at the Fitzsimmons Army Hospital. My next door neighbor was in his last year of residency as a urologist, and had an NCO as his primary assistant, surgical tech. This NCO, with his wife and two children took a few days of leave to go south to Albuquerque for a family wedding. Along the way they saw a car on the side of the road with the hood up, and a young couple, holding a baby, standing beside the car. He stopped to offer help (this was decades before cell phones). We only know this story because this NCO was left for dead but somehow survived. The couple shot and killed his wife and two children, and left him seemingly mortally wounded. It seems that they had robbed a liquor store and were seeking to change to another car, and faked their being stranded along the highway. They were caught hours later. This NCO was treated and ultimately given a medical retirement due to the nature of the injuries that he suffered. Ever since that incident I have been more than hesitant to ever stop to render aid to anyone along the road. I have often called 911 and reported the location of the disabled car or truck, but in recent years have commonly been informed by the 911 dispatcher that they were already aware of the situation.

Just to put things into prespective.....also in that time period I was driving my spouse and two kids (white anglos...well I was a bit of a swarthy Italian) through Utah and Arizona on a road trip....we were in the middle of nowhere on a state highway. There was a broken down vehicle with a family of American indians. Stopped, found out they had run out of gas. Left my family with their family and drove the father many miles to a gas station and brought him back. They invited us to attend an Indian powwow at their reservation.

That was an idea that was something so far from our concept of our trip plan but we decided to accept their invitiation. We ended up watching a different cultural event that we had never thought about.

An Indian (of the reservation) walks up to us and invites us to lunch in his home.
What? Who invites a stranger into their home for a meal?

We accepted the invitation and they told us that it was the custom to welcome anyone to eat with them. My family learned a lot of another culture's customs that day and we also learned how to cook posole. Don't always be afraid to help another human.
https://www.reluctantgourmet.com/posole-recipe/
 

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