I packed up quickly and went on a morning run on the dirt road to the lake. I didn't know how long it was down to the shore, but just the night before a guy who came up with his truck told us it was around 2.5 miles. The run was nice but it got hot very fast so I got a bit worried cause I didn't take much water. I got closer down into the canyon and saw a sign that said no vehicles beyond this point, which made me happy we got stuck the day before. The road got really muddy and my running shoes were getting heavy from all the dirt and mud that stuck to them. As I got closer to the lake I remembered Uri and Dovid were out of water so I tired to search for a place to fill up the empty bottle I brought with me. Unfortunately there were no facilities down by the shore so I had to resort to a different plan.
I saw from far up that there was a large boat docked by the shore so I ran towards it in order to fill up my bottle. The people on the boat we really nice and even offered me a banana as we sat and talked about what I was doing in the area. They came up from California and have a time share on the boat, so once a year they spend a week or so at Lake Powell with their whole family. After the conversation I ran back up the dirt trail with all the water they gave me back to our parked bikes. The run up was a lot harder and I stopped a few times to walk due to the heat beating on my bare back. I got back to our camp site and found out that Dovid drove back to the main road to get water too, so I was relieved no one was upset I was gone for too long. I gave Uri some water and then he headed up back to the paved road because It takes him longer to ride on gravel with his bike.
I got dressed and packed my bike and as I was turning around my motorcycle tipped over onto the ground. I didn't get nervous cause I leaned at my MSF course a way to pick up the heavy 600 pound bike. However after much effort I didn't succeed in getting it up, and I was stuck in this dirt road 11 miles away from any civilization with no one to help. I knew Uri or Dovid would come back to get me if I was taking too long, but waiting in the heat didn't sound like a good idea. Luckily a GMC truck came driving up the path and the two young Dutch boys with their dad helped me pick up the bike. I thanked them and was all ready to go, when I realized my Honda wouldn't start. Now I was getting a bit mad. The Dutch family got back out of their car and asked me if i needed help, I nodded in approval. I thought the issue was with my battery or something like that, so I suggested to roll it forward with some help and start it in first gear. However the Dutch father got to the conclusion that it is an ignition issue and my fuse is burned out due to a electrical circuit failure.
Along the years I learned to listen to advise from people who seem like they are experts, so immediately I took out my spare fuses. Together we found the fuse box near the front of the motorcycle and the Dutch guy pulled out the dead fuse and replaced it with the new one that I handed to him. I was so grateful for his help and was extremely happy my bike was running again. I rode in front and he drove behind me in case I needed any more help, and after 20 minutes of riding we got back to the main road where I saw Uri and Dovid waiting for me. Wow, what a morning! I thanked the Dutch family again and hopped on my bike so as not to delay us any more. We drove around 60 miles to the near town to fuel up and eat lunch. We were so tired from our previous events that we decided just an hour ago to check into a local motel and reorganize all our gear and get our bikes back in shape.
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