I was going to start by apologizing for being scatterbrained and disorganized. Then I started laughing my ass off. Logical, chronologically sequenced, factual analysis ‘aint my style even in the best of times. And it’s apparently the apocalypse right now (at least if you listen to the crap spewing from my truck’s radio). In the midst of this, why feel bad that I forgot about the goats? Like that’s the biggest problem we face? “Today in the news, we’re all gonna’ die according to predictions that have been astoundingly wrong but support our pre-conceived notions. Meanwhile, some nitwit blogger is starting sentences with a conjunction and that’s a huge problem for society.”
If there ever was a prime situation for relaxed standards, right now is the time. Join me today for sweatpants level prose!
Topic 1: About the goats:
Yes, I bought a Yamaha TW200 which was to be my adventure wheels. By God I love it. I haven’t had a lot of riding opportunities but I’ve flogged it mercilessly whenever possible. I wanted to know just how stupid you can get with its meager 200cc engine cranking out something like 16 horsepower.
The answer? It has all the juice you need to have more fun that you ought to be having. On the trail I can go full “barrel of monkeys”. Horsepower never seems lacking. I will sometimes go even dumber. I’ll see some barely noticeable hint that there once was a path through the brush and think “it’s probably safe… lets find out”. Like an idiot Pavlovian moron, the handlebars follow the mind, the bike goes, and the body can either hang on or fall off. The bike doesn’t give a shit about esoteric physics like traction and clearance. It’s happy to honey badger it’s way; anywhere anytime anyhow. It’s all torque and terror and I find myself skittering about in places that would eat an ATV for breakfast.
There is an ominous drawback, I’ve gotten a bit too brave. I keep trying to remind myself I’m still a n00b operator! I need a speaker in my helmet whispering memento mori because I’m tempting fate. Sooner or later I’m going to try to climb a tree… and I might just succeed!
On dirt roads, 16 horsepower is enough to have all the fun you need on loose gravel. If you’re like me and therefore dumb enough to ride when the roads are a solid sheet of packed ice, you can experience complete abandonment of all reason. Yep, 16 horsepower is a handful if you’re misusing it.
On pavement it’s a bit dull. I’ll cop to that.
Back to 16 horsepower as an integer. Man, it seems so ridiculously small. My truck’s power windows probably take that much oomph to roll up the glass.
I’m not the first one to notice the gap between on the ground “fun-index” and the tiny number. Someone somewhere did math and decided the TW isn’t 16 horsepower… it’s 48 donkey power. Honestly, it fits more with “donkey” than “horse” anyway.
This evolved to “goat power”. Apparently 16 horsepower = 48 donkey power = 128 goat power.
I like the image. I picture a stampeding herd of 128 goats charging pell-mell across the woodland… it seems appropriate. I ordered up a sticker that says 128 goat power. I’ll post a photo when it arrives.
Presumably I could calculate “squirrel power” but that doesn’t seem right. Squirrels get their leverage from Swedish disco, unattended Wi-Fi, and a population suggestible enough to follow their devious, meddling, scheming, crafty, misinformation. A BMW might have squirrel power but not my plucky little Yamaha. Squirrels aren’t appropriate for a wheeled anachronism that brick shithouses its way thought the middle of nowhere without the slightest hint of sophistication.
So, now you now.
Topic #2 will follow. I intend to discuss gophers, God, and mods. Unless I flake out and don’t. Stay tuned!