I'm on a yellow motorcycle in a downtown area, that feels like southwest Portland, but with tall buildings. A guy asks me something about getting a motorcycle endorsement, I say that I tried to get one but gave up. Several times I went to the office and there was nobody there. A couple other times I tried, but failed on a test where you have to balance the bike stationary for a certain number of seconds. I tried and came close, but I just couldn't do it. So, I tell him, I gave up, since I don't use it for major rides anyway, just a few short hops. But later I'm riding the freeway through the Terwilliger Curves, and it occurs to me that I am riding it a lot. I think I should exit at one of the offramps at the top of the hill.

My motorcycle turns into a yellow car, like an old Camaro, and I'm transporting Steve, who is in a wheelchair. We get off the freeway and I roll him into a store to pick up some road snacks and supplies. The store is in a complex with several restaurants and bars, and we see an ad with some tempting offer (a deal for beer and something else) at some certain bar. We look around at the bars in the complex. Each is a tiny place with only a few seats, like they wanted to reach a high number of bars. They're hardly separate, but each has a nameplate on wall outside the door, and none are the one referenced in the ad.

I have a theory that the bar in the ad is in another complex, owned by the same people, in the next city. But I'm not sure I want to get off the freeway again in just a few miles. I think we should just find something to eat here, so I roll Steve into one of the other restaurants, though I don't recall eating.

When we come back to the car, it has rolled backward and appears to rest against the car behind it. This car is old, but I just got it, and I didn't know it would do that. I get in to move it so it isn't touching the other car, but as I'm doing so, the owner of the other car gets in and pulls away. I feel the Camaro settle back as the pressure is removed.