Hidden Summit

it’s a shack, a lean-to. Inside? Crystal and white tablecloths and the best food I’ve ever eaten. Then there’s a really small restaurant in Napa I love. I think they only seat about a dozen patrons, but it’s fantastic. Fancy and pricey, but they earned it.” He chewed, swallowed. “That’s pretty much my hobby—road trips and restaurants.”
    “I could get into that,” Preacher said.
    Walt grinned. “Get a little more hair on you, you’d be a natural.”
    “I don’t want to interrupt your meal,” Jack said. “But I’d sure like to hear about your bike club.”
    “Well,” he said, chewing, swallowing. “Well, I’m associated with a few bike clubs through the shop. This group I’m scouting for—they’re a little rough around the edges—these are not IBM sales reps out for a weekend ride. They take their bikes and rides pretty seriously, and they’re safe as babies, but I think they’ll appreciate it if you act a little scared when they show up.” Then he grinned and went after the stew again.
    “Might have to practice that,” Preacher said, and Walt chuckled through his mouthful. Preacher gave him a half smile. “Give him a discount, Jack. The man shows the proper reverence for my work.” Then he went back to the kitchen.
    “There should be four to six of them in this group,” Walt went on. “We’ll be back about a month from now. We can camp, but if there’s lodging around here that would make for a good base, point me to it, will you? These guys are not as into the restaurant part of the trip as I am. I’m planning on spending some quality time with Preacher.”
    The door to the bar opened, and Conner came in, dragging off his hat as he entered.
    “There are some cabins along the river, owned by a friend of mine. I have no idea how booked he is. Conner here stays in one. Conner, meet Walt. Walt here is a front man for a group of riders, checking out the area for a road trip.”
    “Hey,” Conner said, putting out his hand. “Where are you from?”
    “Sacramento area. You?”
    “Colorado,” he said a bit uncomfortably. “Road trip, huh?”
    “We do that kind of thing a lot,” Walt said. He dove into his stew again. When he came up for air, he asked Jack to write down some directions to the cabins for him and Jack slipped down the bar a bit where he had a pad of paper and began writing.
    “And what do you do when you’re not planning a road trip?” Conner asked.
    “Work in a bike shop. Big surprise, huh? I’m pretty good with a wrench. You?”
    “Build and remodel kitchens and bathrooms. I’m pretty good with a hammer and saw. That your bike out there?”
    “Not exactly,” Walt said. “I’ve been working on that bike for a customer. Kind of a pet project. I’ll be riding my own bike when we come back up here, but I told my customer I wanted to take his bike out on the road for a long ride before turning it over. Good thing I did, too. That bike isn’t ready.” He plucked out some fish, ate it, wiped his lips and beard with a napkin. “Gave me a pretty good ride, though. I’ll give him a break on the repairs.”
    Conner tried to keep the suspicion from his eyes. “I took a friend’s bike out on some back roads along the Pacific cliffs recently and I have to say—I liked that. If I wanted to buy a good bike and was willing to go to Sacramento, where would you recommend I shop?”
    Walt stood up to reach inside the pocket of his jeans. He had chains around the heels of his boots, a long chain connecting the wallet in his back pocket to a belt loop and keys attached to the opposite belt loop. He pulled out a pretty limp business card, worn from a long ride in the pocket of his jeans, and handed it to Conner. It said, Walt Arneson, Maintenance and Sales, Harley-Davidson.
    “Call me at that number. I’ll meet you at one of the dealerships and show you some good stuff.” Then he put out his hand. “I’m Walt. And you’re?”
    “Conner,” he said. “Conner Dan…Conner Danforth.”
    “Look forward to it, Conner.” Then he turned back to the bar and put his hand out to Jack. “Thanks, man. That was outstanding. Thank Preacher for me.” He took Jack’s directions to the cabins, stuffed it in his pocket and shook his hand. Then he pulled out his wallet and put a couple of twenties on the bar.
    “Whoa,” Jack said. “Put one of those back and I’ll get you some change.”
    “Keep it,” Walt said. “The company was almost as excellent as the