Plenty of work stacked up. Like usual, it accumulates quicker than my ambitions manage to draw lines through the list.
The pipes are done at the powder coater so I'll pick them up today or tomorrow... I've got the wood over in the garage to start putting a newly designed Stitching Horse together. This'un will be my third evolution. The first two are 'bout halfway down that page.
If the idea I've concocted works out... it will be by far the shiniest Saddlers stitching horse of the set. I need the new one, 'cause the others went off to other folks.
I was planning on working on prepping the bikes saddlebags and some of the wood butchering today... buuuuuut... that Wyoming wind is traveling through... and there's a bit of an issue...
The door of the garage opens right straight into that breeze. Without the door open it's a mite dark in there, even with the lights on... and with the door open today, I'd likely be pinned against the back wall!
So... we'll see if and how much I'm able to get after today.
Talking to the folks who own this farm yesterday... When her latest deployment ends this fall plans are forming to do some remodeling on the old house... It was her grandparents place... and maybe their folks before that, not sure. It was built better than a hundred years ago.
The upshot is... they want to move sprinklers away from where they're located close to the walls to prepare for a wrap around porch to go on... so... guess who got asked if he had any ditch digging talents? ;)
So, add digging the lines to move the heads of the lawn irrigation system to the shining up the bike to sell, setting up a new shop and fixing the many small faults on the rig... and oh yeah... the sagging floor of the old house needs a support post under the bathroom to level the sagging old thing up...
Cutting and Sanding and Bolting and... Digging
Brian
A broken down Ol' Cowboy goin' RV Boondocking ...
...and Yondering, to the beat of a different Biker Cowboy Drummer
Monday, March 31, 2014
Friday, March 28, 2014
Sorting Through the Pieces...
Sorting through notebooks this afternoon... trying to clean out clutter and junk... found one where I'd logged in the mileage the first couple of days when we'd started out.
Fort Collins to Denver... to Sand Dunes National Park... and on to the the mouth of the Columbia...
Those past four years tallied up something like 67,457 miles... so... nigh onto 17,000 miles a year. Add on to that... just a few miles on the Raider.
Now, I figure somewhere 'round 30% of that was bobtailing... so... that puts maybe another 47,000 or so on the fiver... figuring it had something like 45 or 50 thousand on it 'fore we pulled out... that tallies to something at or over a hundred grand.
Now... if you, like me, believe that the engineers and builders who weave these outfits together do it with the PLAN that they're made to; Buy on Monday and park next to the garage until the weekend.
Then, for a year and a half you drag it up to the mountains, or out to the lake for the weekend and home again...
... then... it gets parked next to the garage for the next four years until you decide that you don't use it so you sell it... and the next "Owner" does the same dang thing... and after ten years the rig has 'Maybe'... 9756 miles on it... you understand that a fiver... with a hundred grand on it... is an oddball.
Yeah... it's a bit of a paradox... but they don't build 'em... to haul 'em...
Now... Make those miles... on the lousy roads that bust cars, and... ahem... 4WD roads that a cowboy with a bad attitude drags it over... and you grasp the fact that this Old Rig has "Seen the Bear"... and gone Waaaaayyyy past it's design parameters... :)
Considering the kinds of places I was in the habit of dragging a rig too big to be dragged in there... IN there... yeah... The old rig don't have to make excuses for it's dings and wrinkles.
...ALL of those miles went on the truck of course... so no surprise, both of are showing their age...
Not to mention the Raider... which is NOT a pristine show bike. She's wallowed through the Colorado mud. Splashed through the torrents of the Alaskan highway... in Alaska and the Yukon to get there...
She's roared across 95 degree Montana... at 95 mph... and cooked a ring... or a valve... not so sure which...
She's climbed some of those same 4wd roads to get me back to the broken rig. She's hauled Propane bottles to town! ... when the truck broke... yeah... my equipment gets used.
It was a ride...
I look ahead and see a road running off into a murk I can't see into. I suppose I won't... until I get close enough to see where it leads... which is too late if it's right into some clever trap that damned Murphy who never ceases to torment has set...
That damned irish just might find he poked the badger one time too many...
Each day is just; pick up my left foot and stick it out in front of me... lean over a bit until I start to fall over... and when my foot hits the ground... Pick up the other and repeat. Keep doing that until the sun sets, the beer runs out... and it's time for a few hours in a bunk.
Spent the last two days finally emptying out that storage shed that I've paid 14 times the value of anything inside it... to keep that precious junk.
My good friend who owns the place we're squatting on gave me permission to use one end of one of the garages... to sort through that precious cargo...
The work on the bike proceeds slowly... mainly 'cause my heart ain't in it... and I keep hoping that Oprah will "find" my books and the accolades of her book club will stand me up in the ranks of celebrity!!!
... yeah... then they tell me that she done quit her TV gig... Kerrrrrap... It's just like that lotto thing... I kept wonderin' why ~ I ~ never win... and THEN they tell me; "Ya'll gotta buy a ticket!"
The sun rises... the sun sets... and you just keep on keepin' on.
Brian
Fort Collins to Denver... to Sand Dunes National Park... and on to the the mouth of the Columbia...
Those past four years tallied up something like 67,457 miles... so... nigh onto 17,000 miles a year. Add on to that... just a few miles on the Raider.
Now, I figure somewhere 'round 30% of that was bobtailing... so... that puts maybe another 47,000 or so on the fiver... figuring it had something like 45 or 50 thousand on it 'fore we pulled out... that tallies to something at or over a hundred grand.
Now... if you, like me, believe that the engineers and builders who weave these outfits together do it with the PLAN that they're made to; Buy on Monday and park next to the garage until the weekend.
Then, for a year and a half you drag it up to the mountains, or out to the lake for the weekend and home again...
... then... it gets parked next to the garage for the next four years until you decide that you don't use it so you sell it... and the next "Owner" does the same dang thing... and after ten years the rig has 'Maybe'... 9756 miles on it... you understand that a fiver... with a hundred grand on it... is an oddball.
Yeah... it's a bit of a paradox... but they don't build 'em... to haul 'em...
Now... Make those miles... on the lousy roads that bust cars, and... ahem... 4WD roads that a cowboy with a bad attitude drags it over... and you grasp the fact that this Old Rig has "Seen the Bear"... and gone Waaaaayyyy past it's design parameters... :)
Considering the kinds of places I was in the habit of dragging a rig too big to be dragged in there... IN there... yeah... The old rig don't have to make excuses for it's dings and wrinkles.
...ALL of those miles went on the truck of course... so no surprise, both of are showing their age...
Not to mention the Raider... which is NOT a pristine show bike. She's wallowed through the Colorado mud. Splashed through the torrents of the Alaskan highway... in Alaska and the Yukon to get there...
She's roared across 95 degree Montana... at 95 mph... and cooked a ring... or a valve... not so sure which...
She's climbed some of those same 4wd roads to get me back to the broken rig. She's hauled Propane bottles to town! ... when the truck broke... yeah... my equipment gets used.
It was a ride...
I look ahead and see a road running off into a murk I can't see into. I suppose I won't... until I get close enough to see where it leads... which is too late if it's right into some clever trap that damned Murphy who never ceases to torment has set...
That damned irish just might find he poked the badger one time too many...
Each day is just; pick up my left foot and stick it out in front of me... lean over a bit until I start to fall over... and when my foot hits the ground... Pick up the other and repeat. Keep doing that until the sun sets, the beer runs out... and it's time for a few hours in a bunk.
Spent the last two days finally emptying out that storage shed that I've paid 14 times the value of anything inside it... to keep that precious junk.
My good friend who owns the place we're squatting on gave me permission to use one end of one of the garages... to sort through that precious cargo...
The work on the bike proceeds slowly... mainly 'cause my heart ain't in it... and I keep hoping that Oprah will "find" my books and the accolades of her book club will stand me up in the ranks of celebrity!!!
... yeah... then they tell me that she done quit her TV gig... Kerrrrrap... It's just like that lotto thing... I kept wonderin' why ~ I ~ never win... and THEN they tell me; "Ya'll gotta buy a ticket!"
The sun rises... the sun sets... and you just keep on keepin' on.
Brian
Friday, March 21, 2014
From One Circle Straight Into the Next...
From Moab to Fort Collins... 410 miles of road...
At the end of that road was a sound and the sound was unmistakeable. When the Rig turned into the driveway... CLICK! echoed in the cab. The circle was closed.
On the east side of Fort Collins is a small farm of a good friend. On that farm is a windbreak... in the shelter of that wind break sits the worn and tired old Eagle...
I-70 is a road... a good one it is not. From just east of Grand Junction to Denver... I'd mostly be embarrassed to admit that my company was the one who built/maintained it. I swear, the Alaskan Highway is a far better road. I-70 ain't half as good.
I think half anyway... I actually couldn't find a GOOD half...
The Eagle goes down that rutted, potholed piece of asphalt junk like a twenty thousand pound worm... wigglin' and weaven trying to decide which rut it is that it wants to run in... and unable to pick one.
But I'm here. And my work has begun.
To send that Yamaha Raider of mine to a new home, in the interest of generating the working capital I need for the next Circle... I've got a goodly amount of mostly cosmetic work to do on her to make her not only bring a better price... but also I believe... to just make sellin' her easier in the first place...
Though, that's a two edged sword... the better I shine her up... the harder it will be to let go of one of the few material things I truly value.
Ah well... they don't call 'em hard choices for nuthin' do they... and anything that was easy didn't give you much.
Spent a bit of time just figuring out what really needed to be done for sure and for certain... and then hunting down the best place to get the pieces and parts to do the work. While spending the fewest of my always scarce dollars.
One benefit of staying here and watching out for my Friends property
(she's on active duty in the U.S. Army) is that she's got a couple of
garages here with concrete floors and a Roof!
So... I'll have a spot out of the spring winds to do the work.
I found most all of the goods I'm going to need for this project... as well as bits of the next phase. The next phase being the resurrection of my full Custom Leather Shop...
Pretty much the first thing once the Bike has been taken care of... is to find a "Trailer Core" that will be converted into my shop.
Been scouting a bit online, to get acclimated, for a few weeks now... I'll be looking for an Old Wilderness, Prowler or similar pull type trailer (probably) that has solid walls and roof... but the inside is pretty much wore out...
I've seen quite a few of those online being sold for a thousand and maybe a bit more... Now that I'll be looking with the cash in my pocket (hopefully) they'll probably go and get scarce ;) but... that's the hard find I'll be doing.
With that trailer in hand... I'll go inside hollow out all the worn out furniture and then install the benches, lights, tools and equipment financed by the sale of the Raider... to put a shop together and get back to work.
So... this morning, as soon as all the coffee is gone... it's time to start pulling the to-be-refurbished parts off the Bike and get this show on the road.
... sounds like I'm committed now... don't it...
Wrenching and Shining
Brian
At the end of that road was a sound and the sound was unmistakeable. When the Rig turned into the driveway... CLICK! echoed in the cab. The circle was closed.
 |
| *The Mountains south of Moab... at Ken's Lake* |
On the east side of Fort Collins is a small farm of a good friend. On that farm is a windbreak... in the shelter of that wind break sits the worn and tired old Eagle...
 |
| *Sunrise on the Farm* |
I think half anyway... I actually couldn't find a GOOD half...
The Eagle goes down that rutted, potholed piece of asphalt junk like a twenty thousand pound worm... wigglin' and weaven trying to decide which rut it is that it wants to run in... and unable to pick one.
But I'm here. And my work has begun.
To send that Yamaha Raider of mine to a new home, in the interest of generating the working capital I need for the next Circle... I've got a goodly amount of mostly cosmetic work to do on her to make her not only bring a better price... but also I believe... to just make sellin' her easier in the first place...
Though, that's a two edged sword... the better I shine her up... the harder it will be to let go of one of the few material things I truly value.
Ah well... they don't call 'em hard choices for nuthin' do they... and anything that was easy didn't give you much.
Spent a bit of time just figuring out what really needed to be done for sure and for certain... and then hunting down the best place to get the pieces and parts to do the work. While spending the fewest of my always scarce dollars.
 |
| *Raider waiting for her cosmetic attentions* |
So... I'll have a spot out of the spring winds to do the work.
I found most all of the goods I'm going to need for this project... as well as bits of the next phase. The next phase being the resurrection of my full Custom Leather Shop...
Pretty much the first thing once the Bike has been taken care of... is to find a "Trailer Core" that will be converted into my shop.
Been scouting a bit online, to get acclimated, for a few weeks now... I'll be looking for an Old Wilderness, Prowler or similar pull type trailer (probably) that has solid walls and roof... but the inside is pretty much wore out...
I've seen quite a few of those online being sold for a thousand and maybe a bit more... Now that I'll be looking with the cash in my pocket (hopefully) they'll probably go and get scarce ;) but... that's the hard find I'll be doing.
With that trailer in hand... I'll go inside hollow out all the worn out furniture and then install the benches, lights, tools and equipment financed by the sale of the Raider... to put a shop together and get back to work.
So... this morning, as soon as all the coffee is gone... it's time to start pulling the to-be-refurbished parts off the Bike and get this show on the road.
... sounds like I'm committed now... don't it...
Wrenching and Shining
Brian
Tuesday, March 18, 2014
Like the Road... a Mind Makes Its Own Circles
There's the grey of dawn creeping over the mountains. The rig rocking winds of yesterday fell quiet in the night... the dust has settled, at least for a bit. It's predicted to be windy all along the way today.
A long run starting in a few hours. From Moab to the edge of the Colorado plains at Fort Collins.
From the Red rocks of Utah through the High Rockies...
The circle closes... it's a sadness and a wonder all at the same time. I fear the loss of the road... but... look forward to putting my head back into a shop again... Life seems that way in most things. Contrary to the commercial, most times, you can ~ only have just one ~ so you have to sacrifice one thing... if you want to explore the other...
So... the road yields to a shop again... and whatever else comes on that trail...
The sun rises and sets... and my little tribulations and difficulties have no affect on it. It has for eons before me and will long after I'm a long forgotten memory... like the fourth grain of sand that the river ate out of the Grand Canyon...
Insignificance is tough on an ego... until you grasp that it puts things into a proper perspective ~ if you let it. Once you remember that 99% of all the baloney we're taught to waste life tormenting over... is a Totally useless and meaningless waste of energy and time...
It's all like a grain of sand in the Colorado river... take it out... take a thousand of 'em out and dump 'em in the Bronx... and it has No Affect on Either... "It don't mean nuthin' "
Who has what, Other peoples opinions of yourself, my opinions of them, Politics, demothug/republidud, obamadontcare, control, zoning ordinances, careers, bank accounts, storage sheds, chevy/ford/dodge, nationalism, racism, arrogance, greed, cruelty... the list of things that are of little or negative value... or downright emotional cancers is endless...
So... what?
You're born... you exist for a while... and then in spite of all your insurance, health food, no smoking, safe sex and gym memberships... you're dust in the wind again...
So... What then?
A hot cup of coffee cradled in your hands standing on the heater vent in a dark, frigid morning...
The breeze cooling your sweaty face when you reach the mountain top...
The dogs head resting on your knee, sitting on the porch on a late summer afternoon...
A colt running and bucking across the grass in a pasture...
A picture in your mind... painted onto a canvas... or carved into leather...
A soft word from a true friend...
The sorrow of losing that true friend and the sweet memory of them you will always hold close...
A cool beer sitting sweaty and dusty looking out at the fading day... after all the hay is stacked in the barn... while the horses and cattle stand at the bunks having their evening feed...
It's a lesson with a shelf life... it runs contrary to the goals of the "powers that be", so you're trained and conditioned to repress it. The lesson is lost under the relentless droning of that system and must be repeatedly, consciously, relearned and refreshed...
It don't mean nuthin' ... the calm and fulfilment a drifter seeks is not found in endless movement through far views or any physical things... He runs and struggles looking to capture it... and then... He finds it right where it always was...
...right between his ears...
Coming Full Circle... Again
Brian
A long run starting in a few hours. From Moab to the edge of the Colorado plains at Fort Collins.
From the Red rocks of Utah through the High Rockies...
The circle closes... it's a sadness and a wonder all at the same time. I fear the loss of the road... but... look forward to putting my head back into a shop again... Life seems that way in most things. Contrary to the commercial, most times, you can ~ only have just one ~ so you have to sacrifice one thing... if you want to explore the other...
So... the road yields to a shop again... and whatever else comes on that trail...
The sun rises and sets... and my little tribulations and difficulties have no affect on it. It has for eons before me and will long after I'm a long forgotten memory... like the fourth grain of sand that the river ate out of the Grand Canyon...
Insignificance is tough on an ego... until you grasp that it puts things into a proper perspective ~ if you let it. Once you remember that 99% of all the baloney we're taught to waste life tormenting over... is a Totally useless and meaningless waste of energy and time...
It's all like a grain of sand in the Colorado river... take it out... take a thousand of 'em out and dump 'em in the Bronx... and it has No Affect on Either... "It don't mean nuthin' "
Who has what, Other peoples opinions of yourself, my opinions of them, Politics, demothug/republidud, obamadontcare, control, zoning ordinances, careers, bank accounts, storage sheds, chevy/ford/dodge, nationalism, racism, arrogance, greed, cruelty... the list of things that are of little or negative value... or downright emotional cancers is endless...
So... what?
You're born... you exist for a while... and then in spite of all your insurance, health food, no smoking, safe sex and gym memberships... you're dust in the wind again...
So... What then?
A hot cup of coffee cradled in your hands standing on the heater vent in a dark, frigid morning...
The breeze cooling your sweaty face when you reach the mountain top...
The dogs head resting on your knee, sitting on the porch on a late summer afternoon...
A colt running and bucking across the grass in a pasture...
A picture in your mind... painted onto a canvas... or carved into leather...
A soft word from a true friend...
The sorrow of losing that true friend and the sweet memory of them you will always hold close...
A cool beer sitting sweaty and dusty looking out at the fading day... after all the hay is stacked in the barn... while the horses and cattle stand at the bunks having their evening feed...
It's a lesson with a shelf life... it runs contrary to the goals of the "powers that be", so you're trained and conditioned to repress it. The lesson is lost under the relentless droning of that system and must be repeatedly, consciously, relearned and refreshed...
It don't mean nuthin' ... the calm and fulfilment a drifter seeks is not found in endless movement through far views or any physical things... He runs and struggles looking to capture it... and then... He finds it right where it always was...
...right between his ears...
Coming Full Circle... Again
Brian
Sunday, March 16, 2014
The Circle Nears Its Close in Moab
Took off in 2010... Been a lot of miles under the tires in that four years... good times and not so good. I said back when I started on this journey, I didn't know how long it would go or where I'd end up... I haven't "ended up" ... Yet.
Into the middle of March and I've pushed north to Moab... I believe this was our fifth or sixth camp... back when we started out...
The days are nice, though yesterday was a bit of a wobbler with a strong cross wind knocking things around as I rolled north. Had a conversation in pigeon German with a Swiss couple at a gas station down near Blanding.
Once I got parked in the afternoon that breeze kept on whistling in the windows till well after dark.
In the interest of conserving propane... I think there's five blankets piled on the bunk now. Typing this post I'm using a sleeping bag for a lap blanket... and keeping my hands warm by brewing up more coffee than I need... so I can hold the cup!
I'll hang here till Tuesday... maybe Wednesday. Got word yesterday the bank will get refreshed a bit on Monday... so fueling the closing of the circle should be taken care of.
I'm pondering the thoughts of people these days, and thinking I'm as far out on the fringes as I've ever been. I'm advised in veiled and less than polite terms to "Quit yur bitchin' " ... I'm counseled that I should be counting my blessings... Bull Feces.
There's a problem with that... You know what happens when ever'body sits around fat and happy? .... NOTHING. Not one damned thing. All you get is a bunch of content sheeple.
Contentment is a nicer way of saying; Complacent... Complacent is a nicer way of saying; "Your ass is in the way."
Fine. You want complacent... it's all yours. Enjoy. I say; "Lead, follow or get the hell out of my way."
Think about it. NOTHING was ever accomplished by those that were happy with what is... It's the fellas and fellerettes... that SEE what's wrong. Are unwilling to accept What is Wrong... The ones that stand up and make noise and break things... that change things. Not all the complacent sitters saying; "Be quiet, don't stir up trouble. Look at the pretty butterflies. This is nice."
I'm about the noisiest thing breaker you'll find. Don't like my noise and breaking? Not a problem... keep your things out of my way... and stay out of ear shot.
I carry a lot of my leather tools. The rest of what's left reside in a shed back on the Front Range. Some high dollar pieces need to be replaced... A bike that contains my working assets sits on the truck. I haven't but a faint idea of how a fresh shop will be carved into existence... only that that is the way my trail runs...
... but then most of my life has been following a trail that I hadn't much idea of where it led... till I could look back and see where I'd went. Just following my nose.
I'm gonna keep on the way I always have. I'm gonna say this is good when it is...I'm gonna say this sucks Big... when it does.
Don't like that? Fine, don't. Telling me to be quiet... Well... I don't advise it.
As Grumpy and Un-bashful as Ever
Brian
Into the middle of March and I've pushed north to Moab... I believe this was our fifth or sixth camp... back when we started out...
The days are nice, though yesterday was a bit of a wobbler with a strong cross wind knocking things around as I rolled north. Had a conversation in pigeon German with a Swiss couple at a gas station down near Blanding.
Once I got parked in the afternoon that breeze kept on whistling in the windows till well after dark.
 |
| *Moonrise over Moab* |
In the interest of conserving propane... I think there's five blankets piled on the bunk now. Typing this post I'm using a sleeping bag for a lap blanket... and keeping my hands warm by brewing up more coffee than I need... so I can hold the cup!
I'll hang here till Tuesday... maybe Wednesday. Got word yesterday the bank will get refreshed a bit on Monday... so fueling the closing of the circle should be taken care of.
I'm pondering the thoughts of people these days, and thinking I'm as far out on the fringes as I've ever been. I'm advised in veiled and less than polite terms to "Quit yur bitchin' " ... I'm counseled that I should be counting my blessings... Bull Feces.
There's a problem with that... You know what happens when ever'body sits around fat and happy? .... NOTHING. Not one damned thing. All you get is a bunch of content sheeple.
Contentment is a nicer way of saying; Complacent... Complacent is a nicer way of saying; "Your ass is in the way."
Fine. You want complacent... it's all yours. Enjoy. I say; "Lead, follow or get the hell out of my way."
Think about it. NOTHING was ever accomplished by those that were happy with what is... It's the fellas and fellerettes... that SEE what's wrong. Are unwilling to accept What is Wrong... The ones that stand up and make noise and break things... that change things. Not all the complacent sitters saying; "Be quiet, don't stir up trouble. Look at the pretty butterflies. This is nice."
I'm about the noisiest thing breaker you'll find. Don't like my noise and breaking? Not a problem... keep your things out of my way... and stay out of ear shot.
I carry a lot of my leather tools. The rest of what's left reside in a shed back on the Front Range. Some high dollar pieces need to be replaced... A bike that contains my working assets sits on the truck. I haven't but a faint idea of how a fresh shop will be carved into existence... only that that is the way my trail runs...
... but then most of my life has been following a trail that I hadn't much idea of where it led... till I could look back and see where I'd went. Just following my nose.
I'm gonna keep on the way I always have. I'm gonna say this is good when it is...I'm gonna say this sucks Big... when it does.
Don't like that? Fine, don't. Telling me to be quiet... Well... I don't advise it.
As Grumpy and Un-bashful as Ever
Brian
Thursday, March 13, 2014
Diesel Wedgies, Miles, Goosenecks and More Blankets
Ran up through Payson and across past Camp Verde. My goal was the little BLM site just east of Cottonwood... Plan was to wait up there for a couple of days anyway... to let finances hopefully catch up...
Well... There turned out to be 'bout three times as many rigs packed in there as I've ever seen... I suppose I could have boldly wedged my $25 buster's rig in between some of the other travelers... Seemed like half were 1/4 million $$$ rigs... Not sure how popular the peelin' duct tape holding my fenders together would be in that crowd ;)
Buuuuut... what can I say? after a week of wedged into PIR... and then a week of a full camp at Roosevelt... Wedging in amongst a crowd just seemed to be braiding a knot in my fruit of the looms... So I only spent one night in the turnaround up by the highway...
Come the morning I kept the nose pointed north and wended my slow movin' way past Flagstaff and on to Goosenecks, near Mexican Hat, in southern Utah. Traveling slow to squeeze as many miles out of a tank as possible...
There's a flavor here of the troubles you find when pushing spring. Took an extra two blankets on the bunk last night...
I'll hang up in this free camp above the San Juan River till that whisper tells me go. There's enough left... I think... To make Moab...
If I tarry long enough here and there and along the way between... either Nascar or Google is likely to provide the lubrication to continue the migration back to the Colorado Plains... as well as hopefully avoiding the pitfalls of challenging the weatherman.
They don't never have spring blizzards in the Utah desert do they? ;) I heard the county commissioners promised to outlaw such doin's.
The Circle Runs thru Moab... maybe...
Brian
 |
| *The east end of the Cottonwood BLM area* |
Well... There turned out to be 'bout three times as many rigs packed in there as I've ever seen... I suppose I could have boldly wedged my $25 buster's rig in between some of the other travelers... Seemed like half were 1/4 million $$$ rigs... Not sure how popular the peelin' duct tape holding my fenders together would be in that crowd ;)
Buuuuut... what can I say? after a week of wedged into PIR... and then a week of a full camp at Roosevelt... Wedging in amongst a crowd just seemed to be braiding a knot in my fruit of the looms... So I only spent one night in the turnaround up by the highway...
Come the morning I kept the nose pointed north and wended my slow movin' way past Flagstaff and on to Goosenecks, near Mexican Hat, in southern Utah. Traveling slow to squeeze as many miles out of a tank as possible...
 |
| *Looking southwest Out the Door in Goosenecks* |
 |
| *Southeast view back toward Monument Valley* |
 |
| *Goosenecks of the San Juan Sunrise* |
If I tarry long enough here and there and along the way between... either Nascar or Google is likely to provide the lubrication to continue the migration back to the Colorado Plains... as well as hopefully avoiding the pitfalls of challenging the weatherman.
They don't never have spring blizzards in the Utah desert do they? ;) I heard the county commissioners promised to outlaw such doin's.
The Circle Runs thru Moab... maybe...
Brian
Wednesday, March 12, 2014
Darn It! I Just Discovered... I'm NOT Who I Was Told To Be!
I is who I is... Lot's of people don't like that. I'm "Expected" to behave and talk in assigned ways, obey certain rules...Lord have mercy iffn' you don't walk the designated walk...
Yeah... tell me what I want to hear... Not what you feel like sayin'...
Yeah I know; Brian! You're such a downer lately. RV Blogs are all supposed to be sweetness and light, fluffy muffins and rainbow farts. People don't want to hear real... Lie to us! Tell us how every damn day is going to be soft and sweet and easy livin'...
Well... Don't hold your breath. PC just ain't my style. You want to hear that nonsense... go find yourself a politician. Mr. (insert any name here) will be only too glad to tell you how sweet it all is... I'm more about the unvarnished stuff called Reality.
Purveyors of 'Life is a Freakin' Rainbow of Gentle Breezes' and... Used Car Salesmen (stereotypical) are pretty much in the same category...
Guess what? Real Life ain't that-a-way... and if Life sometimes drains the energy out of my attitude once in a while, so that I am lacking in the ability to pretend that the world ain't the way it is... bummer.
Shame on me!!! Bad Bad Cowboy! How come you ain't like John Freakin' Wayne and Audie Murphy?!! They were ALWAYS heroric!! (shhhhh... don't tell no one cuz this is a secret... but... those guys were actors tellin' a freakin' fables!)
Thing is... I know who I am... and I like the sometimes grumpy old bastard bronc stomper. When ever'body else is cuttin' and runnin'... I can brag that I'm one of the ones standin' up with a grin and singin' out... "Is that ALL ya GOT? BWAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHa!"
Lots of folks have come here not only to be entertained... but to maybe pick up some honest, real world information... and such. I'm not about to sell 'em a big glossy picture about how you jump in a rig and go wandering off into a life of no worries and no cares. That sucker don't exist. If you want that fairy tale you're gonna have to keep on lookin'. You won't find it here.
If how-some-ever... you want a bit of real life... not only the laughs but the tears. Not only the good days but the REAL days... this might be one of the places you want to look on occasion. I pretty much tell it like it is...
Today... a road stretches 'tween here and Mexican Hat. I'd planned on stoppin' here at Cottonwood for a couple nights... buuuuuut... the BLM spot I'd figured on is stuffed full of Buses and other rigs... so I'll keep on rollin'.
There's another BLM camp up above the river NW of Mexican Hat should do nice for a few days... While I tarry to see if the plains of Colorado can warm up some more so a leather butcher can get to work setting up a fresh outfit.
Ridin' it out... Just like I always have
Brian
Yeah... tell me what I want to hear... Not what you feel like sayin'...
Yeah I know; Brian! You're such a downer lately. RV Blogs are all supposed to be sweetness and light, fluffy muffins and rainbow farts. People don't want to hear real... Lie to us! Tell us how every damn day is going to be soft and sweet and easy livin'...
Well... Don't hold your breath. PC just ain't my style. You want to hear that nonsense... go find yourself a politician. Mr. (insert any name here) will be only too glad to tell you how sweet it all is... I'm more about the unvarnished stuff called Reality.
Purveyors of 'Life is a Freakin' Rainbow of Gentle Breezes' and... Used Car Salesmen (stereotypical) are pretty much in the same category...
Guess what? Real Life ain't that-a-way... and if Life sometimes drains the energy out of my attitude once in a while, so that I am lacking in the ability to pretend that the world ain't the way it is... bummer.
Shame on me!!! Bad Bad Cowboy! How come you ain't like John Freakin' Wayne and Audie Murphy?!! They were ALWAYS heroric!! (shhhhh... don't tell no one cuz this is a secret... but... those guys were actors tellin' a freakin' fables!)
Thing is... I know who I am... and I like the sometimes grumpy old bastard bronc stomper. When ever'body else is cuttin' and runnin'... I can brag that I'm one of the ones standin' up with a grin and singin' out... "Is that ALL ya GOT? BWAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHa!"
Lots of folks have come here not only to be entertained... but to maybe pick up some honest, real world information... and such. I'm not about to sell 'em a big glossy picture about how you jump in a rig and go wandering off into a life of no worries and no cares. That sucker don't exist. If you want that fairy tale you're gonna have to keep on lookin'. You won't find it here.
If how-some-ever... you want a bit of real life... not only the laughs but the tears. Not only the good days but the REAL days... this might be one of the places you want to look on occasion. I pretty much tell it like it is...
Today... a road stretches 'tween here and Mexican Hat. I'd planned on stoppin' here at Cottonwood for a couple nights... buuuuuut... the BLM spot I'd figured on is stuffed full of Buses and other rigs... so I'll keep on rollin'.
There's another BLM camp up above the river NW of Mexican Hat should do nice for a few days... While I tarry to see if the plains of Colorado can warm up some more so a leather butcher can get to work setting up a fresh outfit.
Ridin' it out... Just like I always have
Brian
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
Edging Along With Spring
The rig will be bumping north a bit... No real focus. But work is waiting to be done. I'm just really not wanting to finish out this road... in a snow storm.
Just bumping slowly north. Utah has a better sound just now than New Mexico. Dont' know why. Traveling slow to keep as much pressure as I can off the rig. 'course a benefit of that is that goin' that slow you pick up a mile or so a gallon.
Hopin' maybe nascar will stick a stamp on it and push the bottom of the tank a bit further away by the time I need it.
It's 300 and some miles from here to Mexican Hat... No desire to push that far in a day... may just hang around Cottonwood a few days. Let the spring grow a bit of strength...
Two ways east from there. All depends on the weather and which way my nose is pointing when I head out.
One foot in front of the other
Brian
Just bumping slowly north. Utah has a better sound just now than New Mexico. Dont' know why. Traveling slow to keep as much pressure as I can off the rig. 'course a benefit of that is that goin' that slow you pick up a mile or so a gallon.
Hopin' maybe nascar will stick a stamp on it and push the bottom of the tank a bit further away by the time I need it.
It's 300 and some miles from here to Mexican Hat... No desire to push that far in a day... may just hang around Cottonwood a few days. Let the spring grow a bit of strength...
Two ways east from there. All depends on the weather and which way my nose is pointing when I head out.
One foot in front of the other
Brian
Sunday, March 9, 2014
Waiting is a Waste of Good Daylight
You wait. I'm of a mind to make something happen...
I'm much more like the hungry old buzzard that told his roost mates as he lifted off; "Screw patience, I'm gonna go out and KILL something."
Patience is an overrated attribute. Matter of fact... it sucks. Kind of like the wind. They say the wind don't really blow in Wyoming. It's actually the consequence of how bad it sucks in Nebraska.
Just the ninth of March... snow still flyin' in the north... sometimes... but I'm restless and unproductive here in camp...
I'd hoped to be well into the second book I wanted to publish this spring and hell, I can't find the words to get the first one done. I could fill pages with words... but hangin' bad ones on there ain't gonna do me no favors. arrrrrggggghhhhhhhhh... It'll come when it does...
Snow and cold still cutting into the good days in Colorado... but... there's work I've got to do... Ponderin' how hard I can push spring... and how much of that lousy weather I can tolerate.
Here below the Tonto Basin on Roosevelt lake... a fella can't complain 'bout the weather... only his driftin' mind...
A big red bike needs attention to get it ready for the auction block... a few things that I've lived with but should be done to sell it; and in there is the question of how much it makes $$$ sense to do?
Sellin' the scoot has to happen to fund resurrection of a leather shop so I can pay the inflation of affordability our savior (and treasonous) politicians have afflicted us with...While hoping to avoid the blight of having to chew on my cheek hard enough to allow me to choke out "yessir" and "nosir" to juvenile dimwit bosses who lack the respect and etiquette sufficient to lead this old soldier to a dairy queen...
Much to do... and waiting on things once I see the start of a trail is not a skill I've ever had in any great abundance.
No Idea where this trail leads. It just goes on. All I can do is follow along and try to stay out from under the falling timber.
Two more paid nights here at $3 a day then I'll pull out. Either SE into NM around Silver City... or NE past Springerville and Socorro. Kind of have to wait though for the race track to pay its bills to have the diesel I need... and propane if it turns out too chilly...
Though... after checking the weather man... it's supposed to be 70 something in Denver today but then 39 and snow again in a couple days... I guess I'll knot their undies if I show up early and make the cold come back huh?
Poor Babies... Guess if I have to Cowboy Up!... so do they.
Riding Another Circle
Brian
I'm much more like the hungry old buzzard that told his roost mates as he lifted off; "Screw patience, I'm gonna go out and KILL something."
Patience is an overrated attribute. Matter of fact... it sucks. Kind of like the wind. They say the wind don't really blow in Wyoming. It's actually the consequence of how bad it sucks in Nebraska.
Just the ninth of March... snow still flyin' in the north... sometimes... but I'm restless and unproductive here in camp...
I'd hoped to be well into the second book I wanted to publish this spring and hell, I can't find the words to get the first one done. I could fill pages with words... but hangin' bad ones on there ain't gonna do me no favors. arrrrrggggghhhhhhhhh... It'll come when it does...
Snow and cold still cutting into the good days in Colorado... but... there's work I've got to do... Ponderin' how hard I can push spring... and how much of that lousy weather I can tolerate.
Here below the Tonto Basin on Roosevelt lake... a fella can't complain 'bout the weather... only his driftin' mind...
A big red bike needs attention to get it ready for the auction block... a few things that I've lived with but should be done to sell it; and in there is the question of how much it makes $$$ sense to do?
Sellin' the scoot has to happen to fund resurrection of a leather shop so I can pay the inflation of affordability our savior (and treasonous) politicians have afflicted us with...While hoping to avoid the blight of having to chew on my cheek hard enough to allow me to choke out "yessir" and "nosir" to juvenile dimwit bosses who lack the respect and etiquette sufficient to lead this old soldier to a dairy queen...
Much to do... and waiting on things once I see the start of a trail is not a skill I've ever had in any great abundance.
No Idea where this trail leads. It just goes on. All I can do is follow along and try to stay out from under the falling timber.
Two more paid nights here at $3 a day then I'll pull out. Either SE into NM around Silver City... or NE past Springerville and Socorro. Kind of have to wait though for the race track to pay its bills to have the diesel I need... and propane if it turns out too chilly...
Though... after checking the weather man... it's supposed to be 70 something in Denver today but then 39 and snow again in a couple days... I guess I'll knot their undies if I show up early and make the cold come back huh?
Poor Babies... Guess if I have to Cowboy Up!... so do they.
Riding Another Circle
Brian
Saturday, March 8, 2014
Riding Circles...
A cowboy saddles up in the early dawn... and rides out to make his circle.
Turns out... life is mostly that... Riding Circles. You pack up your warbag and take off from where you are, searching out what you hope to be... if you're lucky you find it... Only thing is, most times, you find out that you already were.
The kid I knew... Knew exactly what he wanted to do and to be... But others had other ideas... and weren't reticent about abusing his ambitions or creating obstructions; Through misdirection or if necessary, outright theft.
The damn fool mistake the kid made was to LISTEN (against the advice of wise old hands) to the lying BS that soh-sigh-uh-tee and even family will dump on a person's dreams. He swallowed the guilt trips of malicious civilization, and for too long believed those lies.
Poor dumb bastard... He already WAS... pretty much everything he ever dreamed of being.
... and all he was ever meant to be... and people, I'm here to tell you... than Cowboy, there is nothing finer.
It still enrages me that... anyone... thinks they possess the Right, Wisdom, or proper place to lay judgement on the dreams of another.
Either you give moral support, emotional backing, material support even... or you keep your damned trap shut. The parent, friend or passerby that thinks they know enough to judge the dreams of another is to say it clearly... an order of magnitude more useless than tits on a turd.
But then... what the hell does soh-sigh-uh-tee care? It's onliest desire is to squeeze all the juice out of a person. It squalls about duty and loyalty and honor... yet ... those treasures only flow one way... its way.
Soh-sigh-uh-tee... civilization... is nothing but the conglomeration of all the negative assets of humanity. When civilization shows up... Wild Country and the best of a man fade away.
Power, tyranny, institutionalized prejudice, greed, lies promoted as truth, lessers of two evils, nationalism, lipstick on a pig, the philosophy that tolerance is the way~as long as you understand that my way is the only way... Arrogant Eloquent Cowardice... THAT is soh-sigh-uh-tee.
I'd sooner ride a spavined mule than listen to another minute of the laughable fantasy that civilization is some accomplishment to be bragged on. It is a lie built on a fabrication wrapped in a fiction fueled by greed.
It didn't take that poor dumb kid too long to realize that... just way too long to give up being polite about it and call the stinking pig... just that... a reeking, stinking pig , clear and plain... but... like they say; It's never too late to be what you would have been.
So if this Ol' buster catches you pissin' down somebody's back and tellin' him it's rainin'... don't get all twisted up when I leave your cajones hangin' on the fence...
Iffn ya'll think I'm just talkin' loose... try me out. I ain't the scared kid no more. ;)
Headin' back to what I was and what I should have done... a long damn time ago.
Sayin' it Plain
Brian
Turns out... life is mostly that... Riding Circles. You pack up your warbag and take off from where you are, searching out what you hope to be... if you're lucky you find it... Only thing is, most times, you find out that you already were.
 |
| * Dumb Kid... somewhere around 1968* |
The damn fool mistake the kid made was to LISTEN (against the advice of wise old hands) to the lying BS that soh-sigh-uh-tee and even family will dump on a person's dreams. He swallowed the guilt trips of malicious civilization, and for too long believed those lies.
Poor dumb bastard... He already WAS... pretty much everything he ever dreamed of being.
 |
| *punk kid's instincts were truer than he realized way back in '68* |
It still enrages me that... anyone... thinks they possess the Right, Wisdom, or proper place to lay judgement on the dreams of another.
Either you give moral support, emotional backing, material support even... or you keep your damned trap shut. The parent, friend or passerby that thinks they know enough to judge the dreams of another is to say it clearly... an order of magnitude more useless than tits on a turd.
But then... what the hell does soh-sigh-uh-tee care? It's onliest desire is to squeeze all the juice out of a person. It squalls about duty and loyalty and honor... yet ... those treasures only flow one way... its way.
Soh-sigh-uh-tee... civilization... is nothing but the conglomeration of all the negative assets of humanity. When civilization shows up... Wild Country and the best of a man fade away.
Power, tyranny, institutionalized prejudice, greed, lies promoted as truth, lessers of two evils, nationalism, lipstick on a pig, the philosophy that tolerance is the way~as long as you understand that my way is the only way... Arrogant Eloquent Cowardice... THAT is soh-sigh-uh-tee.
I'd sooner ride a spavined mule than listen to another minute of the laughable fantasy that civilization is some accomplishment to be bragged on. It is a lie built on a fabrication wrapped in a fiction fueled by greed.
It didn't take that poor dumb kid too long to realize that... just way too long to give up being polite about it and call the stinking pig... just that... a reeking, stinking pig , clear and plain... but... like they say; It's never too late to be what you would have been.
So if this Ol' buster catches you pissin' down somebody's back and tellin' him it's rainin'... don't get all twisted up when I leave your cajones hangin' on the fence...
Headin' back to what I was and what I should have done... a long damn time ago.
Sayin' it Plain
Brian
Thursday, March 6, 2014
To the Store and To the Shop... the Bitter Taste of Reality
Heidi's gone back to the store... I have moved to Roosevelt Lake. A hundred miles or so closer on the long slow roll north. Trying to stay south of the snow... but many tasks stand ready to be accomplished.
The line is slowly being reeled in and I'm slowly being pulled back that way... back it seems to much of the old life.
Simple reality is... Dollars rule the world. Unless you're one of the gutsy few willing to live with two T-shirts, a couple pair of underwear and whatever else will fit in a saddlebag slung over your shoulder...
... you get in line and put one foot in front of the other toiling for the man... for however long you can stand it... because outside of a precious few outliers... The Man holds the key to the vault that holds the dollars.
Without some of those dollars... Nothing happens... so... don't curse prostitutes for being of low morals... are we all not selling something ever more precious?
I have little ability to tolerate standing in that line of obedient servants... at all.
SO... for me... the prospect of "employment"... in some "normal" way... has become ever more detestable. I might as well just knock over a liquor store and go to the state resort. In my eyes... it's much the same...
One saving grace for me is that I basically have very low requirements for bangles and doo dads. The motivation for those things has become ever less over time. Which reduces my need for the corrupting cash...
That protection seems thinner though as the cost of living rises; faster than the wages it outruns... concealed of course by not raising the prices... but downsizing that which is bought.
Is not reducing the size of a 12 oz. package to 10 ounces, while holding the same price... basically a 16% inflation??? while they report "Success" in managing inflation to hold it to 1.6% ... uh... riiiiiiight...
Shades of that sort of thing runs clear across the board. It burrows its way into every facet of soh-sigh-uh-tee... double the price of phony health insurance... while tripling the deductible and reducing the services paid for... and call it a change to make it Affordable. And then, to make sure those who see the game and try to walk away from it Can Not... Make it illegal to not participate. Fine them if they do. Make sure they PAY to perpetuate the stupidity... willing or not. Legislate the suspension of common sense.
Compound that with the cost of equipment to wander with anything other than boot leather and a back pack... and it's pretty much a mathematical equation... One day that grumpy drifter is gonna hit the wall where there's just no dollars left to push the rig over the next mountain.
So... hunting the trail that brings home the necessities of subsistence... while avoiding the lash of the man's overseer... and the noise that altercation would bring... I'm heading toward familiar ground.
Writing, because the Shades of the twisted economic model have dug themselves deep into googles algorithm (where THEIR profits remain much unchanged as that of the Publishers who produce it plummet) combined with the fickleness of book publishing is not meeting the thin requirements placed on them.
So... a return to the old craft of a "Maker" in a Leather Shop seems in order. Diversify... Which of course... requires an infusion of those %@& #@&^ ...missing Dollars!... as well as a less gypsy life.
The only place that sufficient dinero to fund that resurrection resides sits in the space between two wheels. :(
So... the way the winds blow...it would appear that barring some unexpected changes in fortune, in the very near future...
... a piece of Red Machinery will be going down the road... carrying somebody else...
You do what you have to do
Brian
The line is slowly being reeled in and I'm slowly being pulled back that way... back it seems to much of the old life.
Simple reality is... Dollars rule the world. Unless you're one of the gutsy few willing to live with two T-shirts, a couple pair of underwear and whatever else will fit in a saddlebag slung over your shoulder...
... you get in line and put one foot in front of the other toiling for the man... for however long you can stand it... because outside of a precious few outliers... The Man holds the key to the vault that holds the dollars.
Without some of those dollars... Nothing happens... so... don't curse prostitutes for being of low morals... are we all not selling something ever more precious?
I have little ability to tolerate standing in that line of obedient servants... at all.
SO... for me... the prospect of "employment"... in some "normal" way... has become ever more detestable. I might as well just knock over a liquor store and go to the state resort. In my eyes... it's much the same...
One saving grace for me is that I basically have very low requirements for bangles and doo dads. The motivation for those things has become ever less over time. Which reduces my need for the corrupting cash...
That protection seems thinner though as the cost of living rises; faster than the wages it outruns... concealed of course by not raising the prices... but downsizing that which is bought.
Is not reducing the size of a 12 oz. package to 10 ounces, while holding the same price... basically a 16% inflation??? while they report "Success" in managing inflation to hold it to 1.6% ... uh... riiiiiiight...
Shades of that sort of thing runs clear across the board. It burrows its way into every facet of soh-sigh-uh-tee... double the price of phony health insurance... while tripling the deductible and reducing the services paid for... and call it a change to make it Affordable. And then, to make sure those who see the game and try to walk away from it Can Not... Make it illegal to not participate. Fine them if they do. Make sure they PAY to perpetuate the stupidity... willing or not. Legislate the suspension of common sense.
Compound that with the cost of equipment to wander with anything other than boot leather and a back pack... and it's pretty much a mathematical equation... One day that grumpy drifter is gonna hit the wall where there's just no dollars left to push the rig over the next mountain.
So... hunting the trail that brings home the necessities of subsistence... while avoiding the lash of the man's overseer... and the noise that altercation would bring... I'm heading toward familiar ground.
Writing, because the Shades of the twisted economic model have dug themselves deep into googles algorithm (where THEIR profits remain much unchanged as that of the Publishers who produce it plummet) combined with the fickleness of book publishing is not meeting the thin requirements placed on them.
So... a return to the old craft of a "Maker" in a Leather Shop seems in order. Diversify... Which of course... requires an infusion of those %@& #@&^ ...missing Dollars!... as well as a less gypsy life.
The only place that sufficient dinero to fund that resurrection resides sits in the space between two wheels. :(
So... the way the winds blow...it would appear that barring some unexpected changes in fortune, in the very near future...
... a piece of Red Machinery will be going down the road... carrying somebody else...
You do what you have to do
Brian
Sunday, March 2, 2014
One More Day
It's been a weird race week. It's like there's a strange "vibe" moving around through people impossible to explain. It even resulted in some well defined "frictions" within the crews working the race...
... or possibly that one or two egos over impressed with themselves, that were given a small amount of power, got a mite out of control. Etiquette restrains me to ambiguity ... (haven't used fancy words like that in a while!)
Suffice it to say that there are those who are motivated by being part of a team... and those that are driven by a bully mentality and to show that they are top dog... and when that sort runs into those who won't be bullied or allow them to get away with their nonsense... there's smoke and sparks!
The weatherman predicted a huge storm to hit us with up to an inch of rain... turned out to be mostly huffin' and puffin'... Nothing much happened fri/sat night, just a few drips in the morning which was supposed to be the big blow... and then nothing appreciable until real late Saturday...
... now that got stiff enough to finally call the race with something like 20 laps left... and a good soaking rain that had already emptied the stands in the track...
So, with that mostly past us we now only have a day of haulin' Nascar butts left.
Heidi will fly back to the Front Range and her store on Tuesday... and I'll start rolling the rig on a long, very slow migration north. Hoping to get to the eastern side of the Rockies... After... the last snow...
Ya'll know how well my planning works out generally... so it's likely to be a tail of the winter spring.
Starting to look north
Brian
*edited; because going in circles for ten hours or so you start getting days confused...
... or possibly that one or two egos over impressed with themselves, that were given a small amount of power, got a mite out of control. Etiquette restrains me to ambiguity ... (haven't used fancy words like that in a while!)
Suffice it to say that there are those who are motivated by being part of a team... and those that are driven by a bully mentality and to show that they are top dog... and when that sort runs into those who won't be bullied or allow them to get away with their nonsense... there's smoke and sparks!
The weatherman predicted a huge storm to hit us with up to an inch of rain... turned out to be mostly huffin' and puffin'... Nothing much happened fri/sat night, just a few drips in the morning which was supposed to be the big blow... and then nothing appreciable until real late Saturday...
... now that got stiff enough to finally call the race with something like 20 laps left... and a good soaking rain that had already emptied the stands in the track...
So, with that mostly past us we now only have a day of haulin' Nascar butts left.
Heidi will fly back to the Front Range and her store on Tuesday... and I'll start rolling the rig on a long, very slow migration north. Hoping to get to the eastern side of the Rockies... After... the last snow...
Ya'll know how well my planning works out generally... so it's likely to be a tail of the winter spring.
Starting to look north
Brian
*edited; because going in circles for ten hours or so you start getting days confused...
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