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Next day was just a lot
of riding. Nathan and I were determined to make Salt Lake City. We drove
through some beautiful Wyoming country and some of Utah, of course.
It started to get pretty hot, too. We went through a few rain showers,
though nothing like what we'd endured on the way to Sturgis. In general,
the day was easy and peaceful.
I had earlier expressed a desire to go to Las Vegas and once we made it to Salt Lake, I made a few phone calls. As it turns out, my intended hosts in Las Vegas were actually IN Salt Lake City. But it was pretty late and I didn't want to disturb them; so I just got directions to their place and agreed to meet them in Vegas.
So the next morning, after saying our goodbyes, Nathan and I parted ways. He'd been a good riding partner and I was happy to have known him. By the way, Nathan, I finally did stop and buy a roll of electrical tape and it came in handy again!
My hosts wouldn't be in Vegas 'til the late the day after I arrived, so I wasn't in a huge hurry. Nevertheless, it took about ten hours to get down to Vegas. The heat was tremendous, the worst of the entire trip! I stopped often to guzzle down Gatorade and kept a bottle of water handy to splash on myself as I rode. I was somewhat concerned about my engine, but as long as I kept moving, the oil cooler did its job and the oil stayed at a 180 degrees exactly.
Now, Utah was bad, sure, but after going through the incredible Virgin River gorge and on into Nevada, the heat was like staring into the exhaust of a jet engine, except this didn't result in immediate disfigurement. I found it was cooler riding with my faceshield closed than open.
Halfway down, I met
another handful of people traveling through the desert. One couple was
on an Ultraglide with matching trailer -- even the chrome rack on top
of the trailer matched the one on top of their tour-pak. Quite spiffy.
The more I think about a trailer, the more I think its the way to go
-- gets the weight down-low. I could also eliminate my tour-pak and
allow air to flow around me a little better. It would also provide a
place to put my windshield if I don't want to use it. On the other hand,
I'd be an idiot with a trailer on a motorcycle. I hate those guys.
Also on the way down to
LV I had the misfortune of losing a mirror. At first my eye was attracted
by the motion of my right mirror beginning to swivel in the wind inward,
towards me. Then, as I watched, it began to TIP downward. As I reached
out for it; it fell off. Into my hand! I stuffed it into my tankbag and
grabbed the throttle again. I was not happy about this development. You
can see in the pictures how the cast arm broke off at the threads -- but
only one side broke off. This left the bolt still in the switch housing,
as the cast threads were embedded into the bolts, and the mirror without
a flat base to securely hold it to the housing.
I removed a washer, exposing more bolt thread, tightened the fucker down as hard as I could, then wrapped electrical tape around the whole thing. I also added in half of a pen, bracing the arm of the mirror against the back of my little clock, thus keeping the damn thing from swiveling anymore. This eyesore remained 'til the end of my trip.
With my hosts not yet in town that night, I checked into a motel and made plans to find Las Vegas HD the next day. I spent awhile at the hotel practicing on my harmonica, which I hadn't had a chance to play on the whole trip, then I headed out for some fun! In the area were some of the new/old discotheques. Guess these are getting pretty popular again, especially in the urban areas.
Anyhow, I had my choice of places. One was called the Fran San and the one right next door was called the San Fran. Perhaps they're trying for the old west theme so common among the casinos? Well, I went into the latter and proceeded to have a grand ol' time getting more than a little wasted. Finally stumbled back to the hotel about three in the morning.
Next morning as I packed up, I kept thinking I was missing something. It wasn't 'til days later, somewhere in Utah, that I realized what I was missing and where I'd left it. Oh no!, I thought, I've left my harp in San Fran's disco!
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