“So, where are the FR biker haters? Come on, we know you want to comment.’
My only interaction with bikers was as a bicyclist in 1981. I used to have a long training ride that went East/North East of Denton Texas that was a 125 mile loop along US 380 and various Farm-to-Market roads. This was back when I was young stupid and in the days before cellphones. I only carried two pints of water and a tire repair kit, plus apartment keys and and some ID.
I was forced off the road at just past the 70 mile mark of my ride and tacoed a front wheel. That meant I was forced to walk in my wooden soled cycling shoes shoes with cleats on the soles and carry the bike. I had walked maybe 10 or 12 miles being passed up by “good people” on their way to church on that Sunday morning when two members of the Dallas Scorpions MCC stopped and and asked if I was OK. By this time it was 110 degrees and I was long out of water I was basically incoherent. One of them stayed with me while the other rode into Decatur (The nearest town) and came back with a county sheriff in a pickup truck. They loaded the bike in truck and me in front seat and drove to the Denton county line where we were met by an Denton county Sheriff and an ambulance. The Sheriff took my disabled bike back to the apartment after getting me into the hospital for dehydration and heat stroke.
I don’t even know who the two guys were. I never got their name.
High fives to those good Samaritan bikers.