Viva Las Vegas!

All that tension sure made it easy to sleep last night. Up bright and early at 5 damned something in the morning.
The cab came perfectly on time. Of course, I had scheduled with Red Top and a Yellow showed up, so I flagged him down. I wonder if there' was a neighbor cussing the Yellow cab company

Dulles at 7am Saturday is a peaceful, quiet relaxing place, and Southwest has seats that fit 38" inseams. Went straight to the Harley shop to pick up the bikes. They've just instituted mandatory drug testing at Las Vegas Harley Davidson. Of course, they gave all the employees a month's notice(wink, wink). This is the kind of conversation you have with Harley mechanics and salesmen. So 2008 Street Glides are very nice bikes. Nimble, balanced, and you find yourself doing 80 before you notice that you've cracked the throttle.

We ran to Red Rock Canyon, twice. The one close to Vegas is nice and has plenty of places for old fat guys to climb rocks in 110 degrees and understand viscerally that they are not 18, hell, not even 30 anymore. The one about 30 miles from Vegas has some great roads. Michael had his epiphany on the way up the 8400 ft high canyon road. His epiphany? Riding in deserts is totally fucking cool and he needed this vacation.

So we rode 150 miles today, and then checked in to our hotel. The California hotel is a decent place, surprisingly. And the best thing for thing for Michael is the Wings and Rings for $7 that he's snarfing while we're watching the Bristol race. I eschewed the Wings and Rings for the Clown Cuisine Dollar Menu. Nothing but the best for these two rednecks. I have made it my mission to eat at an In and Out Burger before we leave.

We haven't gambled yet, and the sun hasn't set so the Fremont Street experience hasn't fired up yet (TOPLESS GIRLS AT GLITTER GULCH!!!!!!!!!!!!! STEP; RIGHT UP). Actually, we'll probably be sitting at the $5 Let It Ride and 3 Card Poker tables next to your grandmothers. We're such big bad bikers.

So tomorrow it's the Grand Canyon. I will attempt to contrast it from to posterior to prove I do know the difference.

Skin pigment rating, half baked.
Exhaustion factor, it's Vegas baby, they pump extra oxygen into the whole damned city. Woohoo!
Money left, umm, let's not think about that, ok?