Four cocks, a drake, and a good Samaritan

Five miles after flicking the reserve tap on we ran out of fuel in the absolute sense. Well, not quite the absolute sense, as we were at the top of a hill with a filling station on the valley floor we coasted to the pump rather than stopping the bike, laying it over and letting the last cupful flow over the saddle tree and into the reserve section of the tank.

 

Click here for a tale of forgetfulness and the modern world … http://thebridgeclubfive.blogspot.co.uk/2014/03/a-drake-four-cocks-and-good-samaritan.html

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