Don't give up hope! Some guys pulled me over once to tell me that my brake lights weren't working on my car. That helped me discover that the brake light switch was faulty. I was really thankful that they let me know before I got rear-ended at a stop light. I am usually the dummy who goes out of my way to tell somebody about an unsafe situation such as lights out, etc., or stops to help the stuck motorist.
On the other hand, my 4 year old daughter was messing around with my rear brake light switch on my CB550, and she yanked on it in such a way that the brake light remained on at all times. I went for a ride the next day, and did not notice. ((YEAH T-CLOCK, I KNOW, I KNOW)) I rode for 150 miles in Suburban traffic, stopping at lights, riding with other motorcyclists, etc. I didn't notice it until I stopped at an ATM at dusk, and I left the bike running. Not one single person told me that my brake light was always on. I guess I lost a little faith in other drivers, but especially motorcyclists that day.
A month or so ago, I got stuck on the side of the Palisades Interstate Parkway with a minor electrical problem on a beautiful Sunday ride. I was fiddling around trying to figure out the problem for about 30 minutes. At least 200 motorcyclists rode by before I got the bike fixed, and not a single one stopped or even slowed down to ask if I was OK. Most of the damned morons that are riding their $20,000 Harleys, BMWs, and other "powersports" vehicles these days don't know sh!t about motorcycles anyway, so they might as well keep on going. I've got a cell phone just like they do, so thanks for nothing, @$$H0LES.
Just 15 years ago that was unheard of. I remember riding home from Boston -- in a hurricane -- back in 93(?). My bike was running rough, so I pulled over to the side of the highway for a moment before I realized that I just needed to switch to reserve. Within 20 seconds, another motorcyclist -- an old fart on an old Harley (yes, in the middle of a hurricane!!!) -- pulled up behind me to see if I needed any help! That gave me a feeling of safety -- that I wasn't alone out there -- that no matter what mechanical failure happened, another motorcyclist could be relied upon to help. Since then, I always stop when I see a bike on the side of the road, just to ask if they are ok.
Most riders these days don't have the same rebellious, self-reliant spirit of brotherhood that we used to have. If the bike breaks down, they call roadside assistance for a tow, and wait like pVssies at the side of the road, since they don't even know that their bikes come with a toolkit under the seat. What good are tools if you don't know how to use them anyway? Then they wait six months for the dealership to get around to fixing the stupid, minor problem with their bike, they pay their $1000 repair+towing bill, and then they go back to screwing their customers/clients/patients on Monday morning so they can afford to play "big bad biker" a couple times a year.
Jeez. I won't raise my kids that way. When my son was 4 we went to the NY motorcycle show and wowed the Ducati salesmen with his knowledge of cylinder heads, camshafts, pistons, spark plugs, etc. My 4 year old daugher already knows the pointy end of a screwdriver, too. Hopefully, they will be good samaritans, too.
Good samaritans make the world a better place.
