Everything started off well for another last ride: Clear, blue sky, temperatures up near fifty, and the bikes all ready to go. No need for gas, I thought, cause we put some in last time. So off we went, heading for the Chena River. About a mile down the road, the 650 started to misfire. Uh oh, I thought, guess I should've put in some gas. Tried to switch to reserve, but the petcocks are pretty stiff, so after fumbling a bit, the engine died. Coasted to a stop, but the shoulder there on the Hot Springs Road is pretty narrow, maybe three feet, with a steep drop down to the borrow ditch. Of course there was lots of traffic, why aren't all these people at work? So wound up pushing it maybe fifty yards to a driveway apron, where I could get away from traffic and sort it out. Surprisingly, this was the first time I'd run out of gas since I can't remember. Got the taps switched to reserve and after waiting a few minutes for the float bowls to refill, it fired right up. So we just rode up to the eight mile pull off, turned around, and went home. I guess a short ride is better than none at all. At least Andy had a good laugh on me for bungling the ride.
Like my Gramma used to say, all dressed up and no place to go!