Many years ago, while touring in that faraway place called Victoria on my BRAND NEW BSA 441 Victor Special, I came across several pubs/motels which had no vacancy when I rode up to the door.  I found it simpler to park up the road, wrap my helmet in a coat, then wheel the bike in after dark.  Too cold to camp out.  Though I must admit I arrived at one motel in August with my hands frozen to the handgrips, where they somehow got me off the bike, ran a hot bath, brought coffee & soup, and wheeled the bike into the room so it would be more secure.  And no, none of them were bike riders.  One experience like that sure restores the faith.