Another ride, another adventure

Yesterday Cliff said, "I think we should go for another ride."  
That surprised me, since we had gone for an extended day trip two days earlier.  You know me, though. I'm always ready for a motorcycle ride!
"Do you have any ideas where we'll go?"  I asked.  
"I was thinking about Arrow Rock."  
I love that ride.  I threw a couple of cans of sardines, a roll of crackers, Diet Coke for Cliff, tea for me, two bananas and a package of cookies in our lunch boxes... and we were off.  
I was a bit confused, though, when Cliff headed south, because Arrow Rock is due east of us.  We do take a lot of back roads, so we don't always take the fastest route... but when we got to I-70, I said, "This doesn't seem like the way to Arrow Rock."  
"I thought we'd go to Warrensburg and browse the aisles of the farm store down there first."  
"Oh."  That's what I said, but what I was thinking was, "Are there enough hours in the day to do all that?"  
When we got to highway 50, Cliff saw how many miles it still was to Warrensburg and decided to forget that leg of our journey.  Here's more or less what the route looked like that he had planned. 

However, when you're on a motorcycle, it really doesn't matter if you get lost or change your mind about where you're going:  It's all about the ride!  I did mention to Cliff when we passed through Marshall that perhaps we should fill the tank with gas, because when we're cruising around in the country, gas stations can be few and far between.    
"Nah, we're all right," he said. 

We made it to Arrow Rock shortly after noon and rode around looking for the picnic area.

Since it was a weekday, we had the place to ourselves.  
As we headed out, I looked over Cliff's shoulder to see how much gasoline was in the tank.

Under the clock that says "1:00", the gauge on the right indicated there was very little fuel left.  There's no gas station in Arrow Rock, nor did we remember passing any after we left Marshall.  Rather than head back the way we came, we decided to ride to the freeway, hoping there was a station at the Arrow Rock exit.

Turns out there were two, thank goodness.  With a full tank, we turned and went back the way we had come.  We hate freeways when we're on the motorcycle.  
And now you know why we call our rides "adventures".  It's a real adventure to be in the boonies with an empty fuel tank.  You'd be surprised how often this has happened to us; so far we've always found a station in the nick of time.  I think I'm going to start insisting we take a can of gas along with us.