Remember the days of no cell phones? I used to ride off into the hills and hope my bike did okay. A few times, of course, it had trouble, and I hadda figure it out on the spot.  I remember one ride where I kept having intake problems for some reason; something I left off during a recent repair was creating vibration to create an intake leak. I probably fixed the dang thing about twenty times between Santa Rosa, CA and Paradise, normally about a three hour ride that doubled itself.

Getting stuck out there is normally not a big deal. The trick is keeping a cool head and laughing when the visions like the one in this strip come into your mind.  One of the things I dug about riding when I was about 20, and riding around the Sierras on a 1973 Sportster was that me against the wilderness feeling, the sense that I had to be ready for anything.  It’s entirely possible that this was a product of an overactive imagination, a romantic mind, and too many Zane Grey novels, but the sense of adventure was part of the draw towards motorcycles from the get-go.