I got called away, but I wanted to finish the story on the 4 Bagger. I got up the next day and met the two brothers from Missouri. I could now see the 4 Bagger in all it's glory. Gory would have been a better word. Nightmare on Elm St. was a fitten name. That poor bike was bent, broken, battered, rusted, every bad adjective you can name. I really ragged the poor guy about his dilapadated bike. I told him he was a danger on the hiway and and he was giving BMW a blackeye. He apologized profusely. I went back to my tent and just laughted. They left a few days latter and he left a note on my tent. Explaining he was going to fix the bike or get a better one and more thx for the help. That poor bike, so sad.