What not to do in a Chinese restaurant in Peru.

My leather motorcycle jacket is gone, stolen. It was taken off the back of my seat at a "family" Chinese restaurant in Huaraz, Peru when I got up to go to the bathroom.

This jacket was almost the only original item with me since the beginning of the trip. There were scrapes on the elbow from a bad fall in Tahoe, some on the side from Oregon, and a whole pocket full of magic rocks that a wonderfully crazy man on Jade Beach in California gave me. I will never have those same scrapes or magic rocks again.

The road will be colder now. Falls will be more brutal. I will look way less cool. I hope that those boys selling Chicklets who probably stole and then sold my jacket for twenty soles at least sent it off to a good home.

(What I really hope is that they are somehow terribly allergic to leather and got what was coming to them. I sort of doubt either happened though.)

Sniff. Goodbye motorcycle jacket. It was fun while it lasted.