We extended our stay at the Silver Legacy and decided to make the best of a day off while awaiting the BMW dealership to open tomorrow and assess the status of the bike. Of all the desolate stretches that something could have gone wrong and made for a very unwanted situation, the only sites of woe have been in proximity to motorcycle repair shops. This is a good thing. Sparks, the next town over from Reno, has a dealership that is exclusively BMW motorcycles. The likelihood of finding this elsewhere is slim to none.
We wandered seamlessly into a neighboring casino for breakfast, after seeing the line at the one open restaurant in our own. The casinos, as is common in places like Reno and Las Vegas, flow into each other so deftly that it can easily go unnoticed. It was only when I read the cover of our menu that I realized we were next door. Following breakfast, the Kafkae-esque feeling of anxious disorientation meandered its way in, and I decided to step out to the pool area to alleviate the malaise of the rank air of imprisonment.
It was a sunny day in Reno. The passing clouds and gentle breeze made for a pleasant environment to sit poolside and read. After burning off some steam on an exercise bike, followed by a good stretch session, I took the opportunity to do just that. The act of engaging mind and body was soothing. It was nice to be off the road for a day, yet not devoid of battling the impatience of the waiting game. Our time cut into San Francisco is irretrievable; we have the same date of departure irrespective of arrival, as riding into November is highly unpredictable (and undesirable). There is no other choice than to roll with the punches, even if one has to be beaten into malleability.
I received word this afternoon that Gepetto was brought into the local clinic. He has a urinary tract infection, not uncommon among felines, and often stress-induced. He was given a shot and prescribed antibiotics, and it was recommended to monitor his urination activity. The earnest care of those one surrounds oneself with is a major cause for gratitude. One such kindred soul to whom Gep is in the care of assured me of what I already knew - that he was in the best of hands. "He's one of us," he said, referring to puss as part of the pack. It weighed on my soul to have caused those I care about the inconvenience of time and energy, but I never doubted for a moment that they would do it without thinking twice.
We bummed around Reno during the afternoon and ended up in an empty bar, misled by an expired "lunch specials!" sign. We had a beer and chatted with the bartender and one woman waiting for a friend, who talked excessively about Sturgis and Burningman and partying with Axl Rose and all the rock stars she hangs with and how she needs to start being compensated for her networking abilities and on and on and on and on. She was well-intentioned though, and our initial reaction of "oh god we just ordered tall beers and have to hear her squawk for the entirety of finishing them" wore off and gave way to a general interest of more stories from the road. Everyone has one to tell, and there is something to be taken from all of them.
We spent the remainder of the afternoon and evening relaxing. I read and played guitar, Snake strolled out to try his luck one more time and snap a picture of the famous Reno sign two blocks away. Tomorrow's events will set the course of the remainder of the excellent adventure... but that is true of any day.
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