I was saved in Wyoming

No, I'm not born again.


Dayton, Wyoming to Gillette, Wyoming is 124 miles. I had 25 miles on my tripometer leaving Dayton. I had thought that it was 114 and as such I did not see a need to fill up before heading out. It was also somewhere in the 90's that day. Very hot. I soaked my shirt in cold water before heading out. When it's very hot out the Valkyrie's mileage plummets. I had noticed it before but thought it must just be coincidence. Maybe it still is. Either way 77 miles later, when I got up to 102 miles on the tank, I ran out of gas in the main tank and had to switch to the reserve, instead of around 125 as is typical.

Uh oh. That means if I slow it down, I can squeeze out another 25-30 miles. That's ok because Gillette is only about that far away right? I start to think if I should turn around and head back to Buffalo because I know I'm only 23 miles past it. There's no exit to turn around in, but there are those U-Turn sections in I-90 that you're not supposed to use. Nah, I can make it to Gillette! Then I see a sign that says Gillette is about 40 miles away. Uh-oh, I can't make it to Gillette. But I see a bilboard up ahead which advertises an RV campground/motel at the next exit and says there is gas there. Ok, problem solved! Boy, that was a close one! My tank is at 110 miles and I can only go about another 20 if I'm lucky. I get off at the exit for the campgrounds, ride past the Powder River rest area (it's a parking lot with bathrooms and a playground), and go over to the motel/campground. This isn't good: things look deserted. I ride up to the pump, flip the switch, squeeze the handle and nothing but a wheeze of air comes out. They're all dry. The store that supposedly runs the gas pumps is closed. I'm 33 miles from a gas station back the way I came, or 36 miles from one in the direction I'm going. Those are the only directions there are to go. The only people around are fishing in the creek next to their pickup camper.

"Excuse me, I'm in a bit of a bind. I'm out of gas and those pumps are dry. Could I buy a gallon of gas off you for 10 bucks?" (This was a futile effort anyway, but I'll explain that later.)

"Sorry man, the truck takes diesel. Last time we were here someone said if you knock on one of the motel doors, they can come out and turn the pumps on."

So I go and knock on the nearest door. No response. I go to the next door. No response. I go to the next door and I figure this is the door to knock on because the air conditioning unit is on. No response. I then proceed to knock on all 12 doors somewhat desperately but there is no response from any of them.

Remember that coolant problem I had back in Austin, Texas? Well, while attempting to fix that I needed some clear vinyl tubing to siphon the coolant out of the reservoir and I kept the extra tubing with me this whole way.

There was what looked very much like an abandoned GMC Jimmy parked next to the motel and a quick smell test told me there was gas in the engine and I briefly considered attempting to siphon some gas out of it, but even if it is abandoned that's technically stealing so I decided against it.

I go back to the rest stop and decide to explain my predicament and offer to buy a gallon from whoever is passing through. If there's one thing people in Wyoming are terrified of, it's letting a stranger attempt to siphon gas out of their car and give them some money for it.

When I would approach people they were friendly enough but when I explained my situation and asked if I could give them $10 for a gallon of their gas, they would have a little freak out session, stutter out some excuse, and drive off as quickly as they could.

Okay.

I suppose I can call my hosts from last night, and ask them for help...but I am an hour away and I really don't want to bother them or leave a bad impression. Oh, there's no cell phone service out here. I can't call them anyway. But there is a pay phone in by the bathrooms (I would just like to point out that by the way it smelled it seems some people might have mistakenly used the payphone as a urinal). I call the AMA roadside assistance. Whoops, my membership expired 2 weeks ago. Ok, I'll call my brother, get him to look up the phone number to renew my membership and renew it. The phone line is only open 9am-5pm eastern time, and it was just 5pm eastern. Ok, my brother can renew my membership online. I'll just give him all the information. He enters the information and -Server error! The system was down.

Well now what? I go back out and try my fuel buying schtick. This time someone says "Sure!" Lo and behold, the siphon won't work. I can't get the tube down into the fuel. I try for a few minutes but I'm getting nothing but fumes. Odd. Someone else sees me attempting this and asks if it's working.

"No. I can't seem to get to the fuel."

"That's because modern cars are engineered with an anti-fuel-theft system. The siphon tube just gets routed over the gas tank and doesn't go down into it."

Damn. I look around for the oldest looking car I see. It's a '98 Pontiac Sunfire. The owner is willing to take some cash for gas, but alas her car too prevents gas siphoning.

At this point I threw out the tube in frustration. What's the point of keeping it?

Maybe I should call the highway services on the pay phone? I don't expect this to go anywhere. That number apparently calls the police. I explain my situation to the dispatcher and they ask if I want the number for a tow truck to come out. (*note) I knew that was going to be well over $100 and I honestly didn't know if I could afford that and make it home so I said "I can't really afford what they're going to charge me so there's no point in calling a tow truck."

"Well would you like me to send a trooper out?"

"And he can bring me a can of gas?"

"...Yeah."

"Ok."

Here's how this surely must work in my mind. They will send a trooper from a place. He will buy gas at the cheapest station around said place. He will bring it and charge me for the gas based on the most expensive gas in the state + a consumed fuel charge for how much gas it took to get from the place to where the stranded motorist is + a service charge. Probably will come out to around $50. Right?

An hour and 20 minutes later, the trooper arrives.

"Are you the one out of gas?" "Yes! You have a gas can for me?" "No we don't do that. Carrying gas isn't our job. I can give you the number for the tow truck."

*note: WHAT THE FUZZ?! They can tell me the number over the phone, or they can send a car to drive over 60 miles, burning gas that the state pays for, taking an officer of the law out of his regular assignment, to come and personally tell me the number for the tow truck? As opposed to how I had thought it must work? (And I just made that system up in my head! I must be a genius!) Carrying gas in some system like I described above isn't your job but driving over a mountain to personally tell people a phone number [that dispatch, whom the person called, could just have given them over the phone] is your job? Could anyone claim that the police department of Wyoming doesn't have a contract with that tow company (be it written or just "understood")? I feel like that should be illegal.

"Well the issue is that I really don't think I can afford their price. I've been unemployed for 13 months and I'm trying to get home."

"How do you pay for things? You have a credit or debit card?" "I have a debit card."

"Ok well I can call them and ask how much it will cost. You just have to be able to give them the information over the phone because sometimes people will get rescued and then the tow company has wasted their money and time coming out. So they charge you as soon as you order the call."

"Ok...yeah find out how much it will cost."

A few minutes later: "It will cost you $120." "No thanks. Thank you for coming out though."

And off he drove.

I will put my tent up in that parking lot and spend the week before I pay $120 for a gallon of gas.

It has been about 2 and a half hours now.

Here's where the rescue comes in. Two bikers ride up on a couple of pretty flash Harleys. Now I believe I've mentioned how terribly bad I am with names. Almost comically so. So let's refer them as "Red" and "Blue":



These guys rolled up, I described my situation, and blue went over to the RV camp to ask any of them if they had a can of gas because it didn't occur to me that RV drivers would carry spare gas. Well it turned out they didn't, BUT when he got back and let us know that was the case, Red says "Well, I have about half a tank left and that's more than enough to get where we're going. If you have a hose you can just siphon some out the top of my tank."

"Oh crap! I DID have a hose. Hang on a sec!" I run to the garbage, grab the vinyl tubing and using a powerade bottle, we then siphon out about a gallon of gas, and put it into my tank. I can now most likely get to Gillette! They would not accept even a dollar in payment. All they said was "Just help out the next guy and that's how you pay us back." Many thanks to these two modern day cowboys. AND: While we're pouring the last bit of gas into my tank, a couple of dudes rides up in a red pickup truck and asks "Is one of you out of gas?"

"I was."
"We saw you poking around back by the pumps out there and figured you were probably in trouble."

They then get out of the truck with a huge gas can, and I pour another gallon or so into my tank. Now I can definitely get to Gillette. "Can I give you anything for it?"
"Eh...5 bucks. I may be generous but I'm still a capitalist." Small price to pay for a roadside rescue on a ~90 degree day in the hot Wyoming sun.

I ride off to Gillette, and wouldn't you know it the "next guy" happens to be up the road a few miles. I see a big RV parked on the side of the road with it's driver looking balefully back in the direction I just came from. I ask if he needs any help and he explains that he ran out of gas but a couple of guys in a red pickup truck drove by 15 minutes ago and said they'd be back soon with gas. Ah, he's gonna be ok. I stayed and chatted with him for a bit and a few minutes later the same two dudes ride up to rescue this guy. These two guys just took a couple hours out of their day to go around and rescue stranded motorists. That is awesome. I salute you all, roadside saviors!

I made it to Gillette, and from there continued on to Piedmont, South Dakota. It's right near Sturgis. And Mount Rushmore. And Deadwood. More to come!

(I write this from home. I have returned, the blog just needs to get caught up.) Ironically, as I was writing this post I had to stop to go to the bathroom. When I was ready to finish up I realized there was no toilet paper. No big deal, I look under the sink for a spare roll and...nothing! Not again! Luckily my cell phone works in my house.