What a way to start the day.
Our first stop was Beaver, Utah. Pulled onto the off-ramp to get some grub and gas and I had no clutch. So, I jammed down the gears and got to our usual restaurant stop there in town(use to be Paradise Grill, now it's MJ's). Rolled the bike into the shade and let the engine cool off while we went inside and ordered some food. Once we ordered, Rich and I went out and diagnosed the problem. My clutch adjuster lock-nut had backed off completely, rattling around in my clutch hub dome. When I re-built my chop, I was considering leaving the chrome dome off, but, Rich talked me into keeping it on there - good thing I did or that nut would've been long gone. Got me fixed up and back on the road.
We took our time getting to the Nevada state line. Had to pull over in St. George, Utah it was so hot. Sitting there in the parking lot, a mustang pulls up in front of us as we sat on the curb. This hot little blonde gets out and right off the bat starts talking our ears off. She steps out in this short little dress, flip flops and aviators and sits down behind me. We get to talking and she asks where we're headed, this whole time I'm thinking "this is too easy", but she was interested so we told her our plans. She hears Vegas and starts on a rant about how she wants to come and meet us for the night and crash in our room at the Hard Rock. Again, "this is too easy", but she was down for it and kept asking if we were sure it would be alright. Come on, this girl was 22 years old, bangin' hot, and ready to party. We looked like shit and she didn't know us at all, but it didn't seem to matter to her. So, she assured us she wasn't a thief(like we cared) and asked for me to take her number down, "this is too easy". Well, she was all about it, but in the end, she didn't come to Vegas for the night, figures. Next time I'm passing through St. George though, ohhhh boy, look out - she's getting a call.
By the time we rolled into Mesquite, the temp was at 106 degrees. Guys were pulling up on bikes with full leather gear and full-face helmets on, fucking crazy. It boggled my mind seeing them pull up while I slammed a 32 oz. Gatorade(I should own stock in Gatorade) and soaked my head with water.
From there, we got to Speedway Blvd on the north end of Vegas to gas up and take a break before heading in to the Hotel. Vegas was hot, like always, and the traffic there blows. We got to the Hard Rock and I pulled up to the front door, asking the valet guy where a secure spot would be to park the bikes. He directed me to the VIP parking and we unloaded our gear.
Walked in, lugging our gear past the suite check-in counters and on to the regular standard room check-in desk. Great thing about the Hard Rock Hotel, it doesn't have slot machines ringin' and dingin' non-stop, driving you nuts. They play rock and roll, loud, all throughout the casino and restaurants - 24 hours a day. I walk up and give the girl my name and i.d., tired from the road, I just wanted to drop my gear and get a drink. She looked up my info and said "sir, you have a suite tonight". I looked at her confused and said "you must be mistaken". Nope. I accidentally booked a suite for that night. These suites at the Hard Rock are pretty much brand new, have built-in jukeboxes in the walls, flat screens, a living room area, bar, huge bathroom, and beds that'll make you want to move in. 750 miles down and we were about to sleep like kings.
Hit up the 24 hour restaurant in the hotel, hung by the bar for a bit watching girls dance on poles, then hit the room for some shut-eye.
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