So I found out even though I had an 1/8 of a tank of gas in my left tank (Right tank is still dry as I have been just riding around town) the fuel will not reach the carbs, but will stay in the tank.
There I am, stuck on a canyon road, no cell reception and I am looking at releasing my tank and holding it between my legs and tucked into my jacket to get me to a gas station, just then a guy in a Dodge Dakota and a enclosed trailer pulls up. He asks if I need a lift. I was shocked and said that would be awesome.
He introduces himself as Dogbite. We open his trailer and he has two dirt bikes, we strap them against one wall so we can strap mine in as well.
We get in the truck and turn around and head to town which is maybe 10 miles.
He tells me he is a repo man and that he has had issues with that law that is how he got his name and he pulls up his sleeve to show a mangled arm. Dogbite flatly says "Police dog". I looked at the long ago healed carnage and said "Broke your Radius and ulna?" He took his eyes off the road for a second and looked at me, blinked and looked back at the road and said "I guess so, I know that dog broke both of these." pointing at his forearm. I asked "What did the Police do?" He said, "Booked me for transportation of drugs, but they weren't mine, they were a friends...I shouldn't have ran."
I nodded "Just one of those moments, we would like a second swing at."
Dogbite smiled "Life is better now, I love repoing cars and I get to make my own hours." We talked about the restoration and rehab of his arm, women, bikes and work.
Pulled into a gas station and I offered him money, but Dogbite just smiled "I would just like to see that thing start up."
I filled her up with gas (both tanks) and kicked her over. He smiled and I looked at him and said "Be careful you're slowly changing your image."
Dogbite smiled and said "I have a lot of catching up to do."
I thanked him and he was on his way.
Moral of the story: If you put your petcock out of the side of the tank, don't let it get below 1/4.