I just about always stop, always for a fellow CBer. I have a bit of a story like Petercb750, my bike just quit outside Fredericksburg VA, no electric , no nothing. I had no idea what to do. Cars just driving by with no sympathy. Finally an old ratty pick up does a U-turn right in the middle of the road and comes back. The quintessential redneck, Harley window sticker, empty beer cans rattling around in the cab guy steps out and finds the main fuse in a heart beat, which had blown, and rigs a spare like McGuver, and points me in the direction on the nearest MC shop. I never got his name but I'll always remember his help. Learned not to judge the rider by the bike that day.