When it rains It poors

After enduring some of the coldest riding of my life, having to sub come to a hotel vs facing single digit temps in the desert and pushing Marla to her highway limits I finally crossed through Reno back into the end of the world. Pitched my hammock two nights in the Tahoe nation forest and got some much needed star time, took my sweet time winding through back roads and even squeezing in a little dirt. Finally I got to spend new years eve sound asleep in my hammock after a cheap local bottle of wine and some star gazing from the edge of a Lake.  So on January 1st I landed in what I thought was going to be my new home town, at least for a while. Santa Rosa

 I was able to score a couch to surf on and my second day in town I made the 35 mile trek to the shop I was to work at. As I should have know the gut pulled my attention aside a few times during my walk through but having been off the road for a while  I had lost the touch. I nailed the  interview and made sure I'd be getting a fair wage. Riding back I was excited but in the back of my mind something was off. The next few days I spent the little cash I had left from the SLC trip on some work clothes and a bit of food for the coming week. I searched up and down the area for a room to rent but to no avail, Cali is a very expensive place to live! My CS host offered up a spare bedroom until I got back on my feet and the universe was coming together once again, or so I thought. Monday The 6th was my first day and I got thrown the usual basket case of a recently painted classic car and a dozen or so unlabeled box of parts a hacked wiring harness and told to put it together. No problem I went in with zero expectations so I wouldn't be disappointed. I got paired up with a retired aviation mechanic who turned out to be a really cool guy also into motorcycles. Meanwhile I got a first hand show at the chaos they called a "top notch Hot Rod shop". 

Throughout the next few days my gut got louder and louder telling me something was out of wack. The old man I was wrenching with had been there for 3 weeks without pay and getting the runaround every time he asked. There were tweakers working there, plenty of managers telling people  to jump from one thing to the next. Lots of pissed off customers coming in and out not to mention plenty of angry faces from the staff. The place turned out to be a complete joke and the owner bankrupt and in legal trouble with more than a few three lettered agencies. After putting in an honest 40 hours worth of work and being told they simply didn't have the money to pay me. Here I am back where I started, except now even deeper in the hole.

At the end of the day at least I'm out of the grasps of winter and back in this diverse and beautiful state. The only question on mind now is North or South?! And thus the Hessian and Marla saga continues.....