About last night...

I ended up riding out the storm on the seat of Mozi with my head on my folded arms over the gas tank. I tried to sleep, under the shelter of the motorcycle cover which I had stretched tightly over the bike, as if she were going to weather the elements alone. I had climbed into the cover and took my position until the rain passed, then peeked out when all was clear before attempting to walk around in the middle of nowhere. My own laughter kept me amused and hushed the coyotes yelping nearby. The sky was clearing in the north and I looked at the local weather map with my cell phone's last remaining battery life. It appeared good enough to set up the tent and settle in for some serious sleeping in a horizonal position. I slept as well as could be expected in an L.L.Bean sleeping bag tossed lightly over a bed of gravel. With each passing hour, I woke to the coyote's singing. I never heard a vehicle pass by until around 6AM.

With the morning sun rising and warming the dew on the tent and Mozi cover, inside, I felt one serious challenge ahead of me. It's a slipping/blown clutch on an old Italian motorcycle, stuck between two small towns in the middle of cattle country of West Texas. Hmm, I do like adventure.

Enter, Chip...

The only person to stop and ask if I needed help, a mechanic, lift to the neerest town, snake-bite kit or anything else, was a Paramedic on his way home from working a 24 hour shift. And where does this guy live? In town #2 of the aforementioned towns I was stuck between.

Not only did he stop, after driving by and realizing I may need a snake-bite kit (just kidding, but I do not like snakes and I was camping alone in Texas), he turned around and came back to see if I was ok. After our initial meet-n-greet, he handed me a bottled Vitamin Water, but apologized because it was, as he put it, "Rodeo Cold".

He explained in detail the term and trust me, it's nothing like Celsius of the F-scale.
Chip drove away, after he and I exchanged cell numbers. He was heading home and might just be able to come back with a 16 foot long trailer and deliver us from evil. Amen.

Just as discussed, he arrived with trailer in tow and we gathered up all the bits and pieces of a partially disassembed Mozi, along with all of other useless items I thought I just couldn't live without. Chip dropped me off at room #16 in an economical lodge and I placed all the oil-soaked items and mechanical devices outdoors and the clean packages (all three) inside the room.
I could never thank Chip enough for taking the time out of his busy schedule, his wife and kids, to help a total stranger.

Chip, you are The Man!

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry