Yeah. I remember my first GT ride.
I bought mine in the Bay area of Northern CA since they were the last dealer I called who had one of the New Gen
GT's in stock. Only color was a silver one on their floor. Bought it. Largest check I ever wrote.
Decided to bum around Northern CA for a week or so to build up the 600 mileage and let them do the service before going home to So. CA.
Ended up putting 1000 miles on the critter in a week for the belated 600 mile service.
Pretty uneventful trip other than one cold night in Chico, CA. While I was there, I decided to check out the local BMW shop. It's called Ozzie's BMW
and I thought they might have some cold weather duds as I had planned to go into Lassen Nat. Park the next day. No luck. Had to keep wearing my old leather jacket. Ozzie's
is a very small friendly shop and the lady part's girl really knows her stuff too, but no clothes.
I got back to motel and looked in phone book. Some place called "Biker Bob's" just north of Chico had clothing along Hwy. 99. Rode about 10 miles to there but they were closed when I got there. Crap.
Some guy wanders up to me and asks "Are you from around here?'
I responded, "Nope. Just cold and looking for some warm clothing for tomorrow's travels."
He asked, "You want a job later tonight?"
I asked, "What kind of job?"
He said, pointing to the building next door, "We need some judges for amateur night. You want to be a part of it? Local judges tend to vote for someone they know and are often biased."
I looked over his shoulder. The pink sign was for a place called "Centerfolds"
(dba: a "strip club").
He gave me a business card and left.
Back at the motel and after a great steak dinner I thought, "What the hell? No one around here knows who the hell I am." Soon I was packing for the cold night as well I could and rode off to the joint about 7:30-8pm. Haven't been to one of those joints in maybe 30 years or more since college.
Go there a bit early and saw the cashier guy and several arriving girls with roller luggage petting some Shar Pei pup (those wrinkly dogs). I joined in the petting and then found they were some of the evening's entertainment (albeit, much later).
The DJ there appointed me as his stooge and always yelled: "Hey, the 'Biker Dude' (me) says "You need to...."" which I never did say (X or R-rated) what he announced and I suffered really awful8 mental turmoil through the transpiring events of the evening (yeah. sure I did.
Maybe I had too much fun that evening at my newly found second job. Too bad the pay sucked, but the fringies were really great and knocked 10-20 years off my age! Even snagged a few personally autographed Xerox'ed poster memorabilia for my sordid judgmental efforts too.
The GT didn't blow any chunks on the rest of the trip either.
Following year, the GT got me through the iron gates of The Wild Horse and Mustang Ranch east of Sparks, NV. Seems the GT has made me enter some debauchery mode my old R1100RT failed to do.