Vegas

After I made the decision to ride out, I pulled over to take a lot of pictures.  I reevaluated the decision, do I really need to do this, how are people going to feel about me going to Vegas.  Well, I can get cheap lodging and I'm not into gambling, so this is more of a look and see, than "experience".  I get down to the essentials, it has a nasty stigma attached to it, and 6 or 7 years ago I would've been caught doing bad things with bad people I'm willing to bet, but I don't want to throw money around and I care more about my health than ever before.  This could be great. Plus, I want to experience it with my lady more than by myself.

I set off, polypro leggings on, and everything that beats 51 degree weather.  It's now 90 in the desert in Nevada and the next gas station is somewhere around 75 miles away.  I"m good on gas, but I pull over in an abandoned complex that looks sketchy at best.  I quickly shed my jacket and hoodie, and start work on my leggings. That's when I'm literally caught with my pants down.  About 7 dudes on harleys and choppers pull up around me.  I can't help but think "threat" before "dude, pull up your pants.".  When I finally do, 3 of the guys are approaching me.  They wanted to know if I needed any help, or water, or sunblock.  WHAT?!  Yeah, 99% of the help that's been offered to me has been from fellow bikers, pulling off with a sort of "noone left behind" mentality.  They help me with a little coolant and a good way to tie down the jacket i've just shed.  I lather on a good helping of SPF 60 and hit the road once more. I don't really stop again or care to, until I hit this Army Depot.  It looks like a munitions town, with a few factories and ammo storage bunkers as far as the eye can see.  I grab some McDonalds and listen to the millennial kids go on and on about how totally redic it is that mom won't let them drink at 16. I mean, if you can drive a car, you should be able to get totally smashed if you want right? Ugh, f*** that noise, I'm just going to move out so I can do whatever I want. Literally, every kid seems to go through that phase, but I cracked more than a few smiles when hearing that conversation.  And upon departure, I threw on an oldie but a goodie "Baby Got Back" and sing along. Oh, but first as I walked out, there was an older methy looking couple checking out Juicy.  The older guy asked how big, and if I'd ever gotten it to 140 mph.  I answered both.  He seemed impressed. The lady said to me "It's not a Harley though.  If it's not a Harley so...."  she lingered on the last word, either thinking about what to say next or the shiny chrome caught her off guard and her ADD kicked in.  Totally happens to me, so i get it.  But I quickly retorted with "Yeah, so it'll last longer.".  Ms Methy didn't like that, she spit on the ground and said "Well if it's not a Harley I don't want it.". I take offense to Juicy being made fun of, especially when it comes to her origin. I was a bit of a smart ass, but whoops! I couldn't help myself. I said back "Don't worry lady, she's not for sale, and besides, she's too much for you to handle.".  He mouth literally hung open and I really wanted to do the whole take a step and make a tackling motion and yell "what!" repeatedly.  But held back, and continued getting ready for the ride.

Well, on the road again, the tires were getting super hot and the desert was getting windy. The wind picked up so bad that I had to really take it easy and take my time. Once I got to Area 51 I took a lot of pictures, but the sun was getting low so I moved out a lot faster than I had planned. Once on the outskirts of Vegas I made my way to the hotel.  It's the wannabe space needle.  It's super cheap so I didn't complain too much, and did a little cruising around Vegas.  The lights are freaking AMAZING!  Totally unreal!  People everywhere, fat and skinny and ugly and pretty. Awesome.  The bike overheats again and again, and I keep shutting down to save the damn engine from blowing up on me.  I'm just blown away by the stuff to do and the people around.  It's just a crazy sight to see.  I see how people come here on a whim and spend so much.

I pulled into my hotel's valet lane and talk to the Valet guy and he lets me know about the motobike parking situation.  He lets me get my bags and stuff to my room before I have to park. Super great.  I get to my room and it's not what I asked for or booked, but it's SOOO cheap ($65/night) and I get a bunch of stuff included. I contemplate going to the 107th floor and experiencing the night life, but I'm not here for that, so instead I grab a coffee and walk around the casino. It's definitely NOT like the movies, but it's cool enough. I hit the gift shop and grab some grub then head back to my room to chat with dad.  It's agreed that the bike needs to get fixed and there's nothing more important than safely making it home.  I rack out quickly, thinking about the cool pool's I can visit for wicked cheap.

In the morning, I roll out of bed early an start planning my departure on Monday.  It's only about 750 miles to Denver, so maybe I'll get lucky and stop there to visit my other brother, but they just hosted people all weekend, I'm sure I'm the last person they want to accommodate.  But I'll get that stuff sorted.  I found a bike shop that will help me out and make my problems go away.  In the meantime, I'll watch people gamble away everything, young college people act a fool and might find myself fist pumping at a pool on top of the MGM Grand.  Today's a GTL kinda day.  Stay thirsty my friends.