I always watch for road hazards. Usually, they are potholes, glass, tree limbs (especially after last night's storm) but this evening, it was a 1997 Ford Escort Wagon. I pulled up alongside the car, and the guy in the driver's seat looked at me wondering what in the world a helmet-wearing, bike-riding fat guy was going to be able to do to help.
As it turns out, I'm pretty good at working on cars, and I actually owned a nearly identical car for more than a decade. In broken English, the driver explained that he was just driving along when his car stopped running. Fuel gauge: half full. Lights are on. Starter cranks the engine. My first thought was timing belt. I had him try starting the car while I watched the valve rockers through the open oil cap. They were moving. That kind of narrows it down to ignition (spark plugs) or fuel delivery. Given that Santa Fe Trail Drive is littered with gnarly railroad crossings, I decided to check the inertia switch in the trunk. This switch is designed to stop the fuel pump in a crash to prevent fuel fires. I opened the little access panel, pressed the turkey-thermometer-esque button back in, and the car fired right up.
I love my bikes, but I am still very much a car guy.