I snagged the breakfast buffet at JB's across the street. It's sort of like a Denny's. It was fast and tasty. The rest of the crew went to the Harley dealer early. Matt picked up a nail sometime last night, and Greg was planning to get a new rear tire out here anyway. It appeared to be customer appreciation day or something. Free burgers and dogs were slated for 11:00 am. I arrived and parked between Moe and another hog. Greg warmed up the crowd for me, and once they realized I had driven across the country, many sincere hand shakes were offered. More than a hundred bikes had arrived in the next hour. Eventually the hog next to me left and I noticed no one else would park next to the Vespa. To test my theory, Moe moved his Harley across the lot leaving the Vespa with empty spaces on either side. My theory was right on. The lone Vespa in a sea of hogs.
Matt and Greg got fixed up and we left through the 'Blessing of the Bikes' tent. We got a prayer for safe journeys. I prayed for no headwinds.
The last leg of this journey took us across the desert and the Hoover Dam. We had been warned of excessive traffic with tourists, but it turned out not so badly. My outside air temperature gauge hit 102F on the way down to the dam. I managed to snap a pic of it while stopped in traffic after it cooled a bit. We decided to return tomorrow after Moe picked up his wife, Christine at the airport tomorrow morning for the tour.
Traffic on the Las Vegas freeways was a zoo for a Saturday afternoon. We wound our way around the outskirts to the Bonnie Springs Ranch Motel. Think Tweetsie Railroad 45 years ago, and a lot smaller. It even has a narrow gauge train, petting zoo, gun fighter shows and hangings.
Kitschy describes it well too. Apparently Miss Bonnie, 87 years old has decorated all the rooms herself: Iron on appliques of lizards and dragon flies on the curtains and home made lamp shades. Hardwood patterned carpet on the floor competes the picture. My room has a ceiling fan sans blades.
The Bonnie Springs Motel is truly a blast from the past, with a warm and welcoming staff. Michael, one of the caretakers, was astounded that I drove the Vespa across the country. He used to have one.
I tried a buffalo ribeye at the saloon. It was pricey but good. There's no internet here, so I guess I'll have to head to a casino later to lose some money and get online. I could barely keep my eyes open to finish a load of laundry.
I've stopped trying to keep up with what letter of the alphabet I'm listening to.
More pix from today:
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