Out of gas... for the SECOND time!!! Grrr. Only this time, I was a HALF mile from the gas station I was aiming for.
Hubby finished the Mason Dixon 20-20 Rally yesterday (Sunday). I had to work. But, the rally headquarters were about an hour from work. So, when I got off, I rode out to see him, figuring I'd spend some time, hear the rally tales and then head home for the night... I had to work today.
I was invited to join the rally-ers for dinner, and hubby pointed out that it was probably going to be easier to just ride to work this morning, having gotten a bit more sleep, than to ride home for the night, then get up and go to work. It made sense.
Dinner and the rally awards were fun. I stuck around for the tales for a while, then (having been awake since 3 am), I headed off to bed. My bike had 125 miles on the tank of gas. I can generally count on 185 or so before I MUST get gas. (I've gone as far as 205 before filling up. That time, I had to add 5.1 gallons to my 5.4 gallon tank.) The ride to work from Hagerstown, MD was gonna be around 55-60 miles. No worries...
At 4 in the morning, there is very little traffic on an interstate. A few heavy trucks, handful of cars. The temparature was perfect for riding. I'm neither too cool nor too warm. I'm making good time.
My low fuel light comes on, as expected, at around 155 miles. I nearly always wait another 20-25 miles before filling up. The GPS tells me that its 25 miles to the next turn, and about 1 mile beyond that is the 24 hr BP gas station that I use regularly on my normal morning commute.
I scan for eyes in the dark, reflecting my headlights. I see the larger shape of a deer standing in brushy median, as it pauses to look at traffic. I change lanes just in case, and it stays where it is as I pass by.
Miles tick down, and my exit looms: A lovely, sweeping right curve from the east/west interstate onto the north/south connecting highway. I thumb on my highbeam, look, press and roll. Halfway around the curve . . .[nothing]. Dead throttle. Ah, cr@p! Immediately, I know what happened. I'm out of gas.
My trip meter reads 185. WTF?!?! Oh, yeah. Last time I filled the tank, I didn't top it up like I usually do.
Sheee - IT!!
I move over onto the shoulder, and thumb on my flashers. . . . Cool! This is a downgrade! Only a couple degrees of slope, but enough. I can coast a while! I hit the engine cut off switch and shift into neutral. We glide easily along the clean, smooth shoulder. Finally the slope peters out. But, I'm nearly to the exit where there's gas.
There are BP stations in both directions from this exit. One is the 24 hour one, but it is a much greater distance from where I've ended up. I'm unsure when the other one opens for business (I've ended up stranded just before 5am). I park and take off my helmet. . . then I remember that my phone battery is low. Cross fingers I've got enough charge to at least text some folks. I text two co-workers my plight. Then a third (who is more likely to have a gas can). I wait for responses... Nothing. Then as I decide to call work directly, my phone rings. Store manager calling (???). He asks if everything is alright. I tell him I'm not at the store, but out of gas on my way to work. He says he's gonna have to call me back.
While I'm talking to boss, I get another call. A co-worker. I call co-worker back. I can hear the alarm sounding in the background - a stupid delivery person has a key but an old alarm code. Sympathizing, I give co-worker the code. When silence returns, I tell him my plight...
My phone dies. <sigh>
Okay. I'm on my own. Lock helmet to bike. Take key and wallet and walk up the exit ramp. As I round the curve, I can see the awning lights and sign are lit at the BP station. YAY!! As I get closer, I see a man walk outside, with a floor mat and flap it against the back of the building.
I approach and explain my plight. He's got gas cans... but they're $16!! Holy cow!!! And that doesn't include gas. I pay. I'm stuck.
I fill the can with a gallon of fuel and walk back to my bike. The sky is brightening with dawn. There is a goldfinch singing his heart out in the brush off the shoulder of the ramp.
Empty gas into bike. Secure gas can to the tail rack (glad I've made a habit of carrying my straps in a side case). And get back underway. I arrve an hour late for work. But at least I've got an excuse!
