Nevada Counties - Day 4

Ever since my mishap in Carson City the weather had been so warm I hadn’t needed my overpants or heavy shirt which was nice.  It was a beautiful morning and I was heading south toward Tonopah across very barren country on a two lane highway.  I got several interesting caches along the way all with historical information. 

When I tried to start my motorcycle after one of the stops nothing happened.  I turned the key off and then back on again and the starter worked but it gave me a tinge of concern.  On the next stop it took two or three off and on cycles before it would engage the starter.  It progressively got worse until I didn’t turn off the motorcycle when I had to stop for caches.  I knew there would be no help before I reached Las Vegas.

 

As it approached mid day the wind had again gotten really powerful and gusty from the west.  At one point I saw a dust cloud crossing the road in front of me and rode through it braced against the wind.  Just as I was exiting the dust I was hit hard by a gust from the opposite direction that very nearly took me down. 

I pulled off to a little side road parallel to the highway at a place called Cactus Springs that had once been a little community.  There was a cache nearby but I accidentally killed my engine.  This was the first cache for Clark County so I figured I’d better go get it because I knew when and if I made Las Vegas my time would be occupied with getting my motorcycle fixed and I wouldn’t have time to do the planned caches.  I had a .6 mile round trip hike to get the cache and then I took shelter in the lee of a little abandoned house and had lunch.  I had tried several times to start my bike with no luck.  After lunch I tried some more and finally it made connection and started.

I had planned to visit the tv show site of “Rick’s Restoration” so I headed there as the waypoint was in my GPSr, foolishly thinking they might be able to help me or at least steer me to a Triumph dealer.  When I got there, I kid you not, it reminded me of Disneyland.  It was just a tourist attraction with several little buildings with names of some of the tv characters on them.  The receptionist couldn’t even find a phone book for me.

I dejectedly returned to my bike which was actually parked next door at an art place specializing in different types of art such as metal work and ceramics.  Larry, who was probably in his 60’s, and his wife, Debbie, managed the place.  They let me use the phone and furnished a phone book but I couldn’t find a Triumph dealer or any other dealer who would help me.  Finally, I thought I would see if the battery might be bad even though the symptoms didn’t seem right for that problem.  We found an Autozone within a mile that had the right battery and Debbie took me there after I had removed the battery.  They couldn’t test it because it was indicating only a 13% charge.  It should have been fully charged since I had been running the engine all day so I thought maybe that was the problem after all. 

After we returned and I installed the new battery I had the same problem but to a much lesser extent.  In the meantime, while we were gone Larry had found on the Internet an area shop that worked on Triumphs.  It was 4:30 and closing time for them but Larry offered to guide me to the shop which was miles away and in heavy traffic.  After thanking Larry profusely I pulled in to the back of the little shop and the mechanic found my problem in less than five minutes.  It was a clutch cutoff switch designed to prevent the motorcycle from starting in gear with the clutch engaged.  We took out the switch and bypassed it and I was on my way.

It seemed to take me forever to get back down town to the strip where I was staying at the Imperial.  Of course, I was right in the middle of rush hour traffic.  Now I can tell you, even though I lived in Dallas for four years while in college, I am not a city boy.  I had the devil of a time just finding the right place to park in the parking garage.  Despite all these problems and delays I had traveled 322 miles this day.

It probably took me 10 or 15 minutes lugging my helmet, jacket and bags going up and down escalators and hiking across the casino arena before I got to the front desk.  Then when I finally got there (my arms were aching like crazy from my load) I was greeted by a long serpentine line like you see at airports.  It seemed like it took 45 minutes before it was my turn to check in.  Then I had to trudge back through the casino in the direction I had come to find the right elevator that took me to my room on the 10^th floor.  The Imperial is an old casino and I wasn’t impressed with my room even though it was a suite.  No refrigerator, the tv didn’t work and the room was hot.  It did have a nice round tub/shower combo and mirrors over the shower and bed.  That was exciting!

I had been carrying my toilet articles consisting of toothbrush, razor and deodorant in a small fanny pack in the top of my big bag.  As I began unpacking I immediately noticed it wasn’t there.  When I had parked in the garage and taken the bag off I had opened it to get the chain lube out and lube my chain.  It was fairly dark in the garage and I thought maybe I had taken it out to get the lube and missed putting it back.  So I trudged back down to the garage which wasn’t easy.  I was parked on the 2^nd level but for some reason it was really difficult to find.  In fact, I finally ended up on the 3^rd level, climbed through some bars and jumped down to where my motorcycle was.  It was all for naught because my fanny pack wasn’t there.  I couldn’t stand the thought of not brushing my teeth before turning in but there wasn’t any place in the casino to buy a toothbrush and I wasn’t about to leave.

I went to a little burger/sandwich shop in the casino and had some chicken tenders which weren’t that great.  Then I went back to the room and finished unpacking and lo and behold there my fanny pack was in another pocket of the bag.  I had forgotten that I had moved it when I was rearranging my bag contents.  It’s great getting old.

One of the goals of my trip was to log the Nevada Counties cache which can only be done when you have logged a cache in each county and then the cache owner gives you the coordinates to the cache.  I had been corresponding with him and he agreed to allow me to log his cache which was in Clark County even though at that point I would lack one county (White Pine).  He had given me the coordinates and his address and I had entered them in my GPSr.  While I was waiting in line to check in and tried to pull up the waypoint I discovered that it was not there.  It must have been lost with the other Nevada caches.  I thought I had kept his e-mail in a “Keep Awhile” folder but I had no access to a computer.  So I called Kathy and walked her through getting into my e-mail and that folder.  Sure enough, it was still there and she was able to give me the coords and address.  With that good news I showered and hit the sack and my reflection from the ceiling didn’t even keep me awake.  (To be continued)  M/W