It was just about lunch time so we found a classy, greasy spoon (yes, that’s an oxymoron) and strolled in. I commented how nice air conditioning was and the waitress slugged me in the arm. I have no idea why but my buddy commented that “They know you here!” Whatever. The food was filling and we walked back out to saddle up again.
Then, my rear tire sparkled at me. Uh, rubber tires don’t sparkle … unless … the tread is worn and the steel belt is showing through. Argh! There’s no cell service in Downieville so without options, I recalculated our destination from Tahoe City to the BMW dealership in Sparks. An hour or so later, in cell phone range, I called this dealer and advised them of the problem. “Bring it in” the service guy at Sierra BMW said. (Ed. Note: If this had been my local dealer, he would have had me schedule an appointment two weeks in the future.)
The detour added two hours of transit and two hours of waiting time to our day. And it was after sunset when we eclipsed Mount Rose Pass and finally made it to our Tahoe City hotel. While unpacking our bikes for the night, two (mildly inebriated) women walked up to my buddy and started observing how “big” his bike was. “Why it’s so huge! How big is it anyway? How do you handle that big thing?” And so on. Later at dinner that evening I had to explain to him that the women were hitting on him – He never got it.