I ran the Valkyrie out of gas on the way home today. I had just passed the exit to the next-to-last gas station on the route when it started to sputter. I reached beneath the seat and switched to the reserve, but it made no difference; the tank was curiously dry.

The odometer rolled over double-zeros about thirty miles ago,, when I usually fill the tank. I expected another forty or fifty miles before it ran dry. It was probably all of the cold-weather starts, longer idles, and running a little long with the choke fully open. I would have stopped for gas earlier, but had been running short on time; it was on my mental list for the first stop in the morning.

I was just turning from the highway that passes the office to the one that passes the house when it happened. I sputtered and slowed to a stop on the median and tried again with the petcock and peeked inside. Seeing no fuel, I decided to call for help. I ran the wife, explained the situation and my position. She agreed to pack the kiddo and grab the lawnmower's gas can to rescue me. Just as she was proclaming that her phone was about to die, her phone died. Just as that happened, the MnDOT FIRST truck pulled up. I sent a quick e-mail hoping to catch the wife before she left.

The FIRST guy checked-in. I mentioned that I thoughtt I'd run out of gas, and he offered to give me enough to get to a gas station. He went back to his truck and returned with a couple gallons in a can. I poured a couple of cups into the tank and turned it over a bit while he returned the can to his truck. It takes a little to refill the six carbs, and he returned to wait and see if the problem was solved. Just as he asked if I needed more fuel the motor sputtere to life. I thanked him, asked if I owed him anything for the gas; he said it was already taken care of. He rminded  me to put my helmet and gloves back on, and get some more gas. I waved and took off for home.

I went right home, figuring at the least I've got gas in the mower's can, hoping to catch the wife, perhaps delayed getting the kiddo into the Jeep. The garage was open and empty. I called and let her know I was home, so she didn't wander the freeway thinking she was looking in the wrong place.

Tomorrow I'll stop for gas first thing. IN the mean time, here's a big shout-out for the roadside helpers. Hoped I'd never need one; glad one was around; as helpful and kind as he was, I hope I'll never need one again; glad to know they're there if I do.