Have you sniffed the air? The winds have shifted. Fools ran rampant; but their time was short. In but a few years they demonstrated their totality of incompetence. When society was under their sway, it reeked of cattle cars and smoldering cities. This summer, everyone knows the emperor has no clothes. What was once crimethink is mumbled quietly in the general public. We joke about conspiracies and spoiler alerts. One can ponder the origin of the Wuhan virus, the source of inflation, the rule of law, or the efficacy of masks without being pushed off a cliff. Meanwhile, they still care who owns Twitter.
Parts of society turn to the work of course correction; not from wisdom or honor but simply because it has to be done. Monsters try to relight the soot at our feet but it’s not working. Not that they’re harmless! Oh no! They probe every avenue toward destruction. If they can’t fire on Fort Sumter they’ll shoot Archduke Franz Ferdinand! But society can only stampede so long.
The sane remnant was not eliminated. We’re still here.
A sizable portion that fell for the madness have slowly (even grudgingly) pulled out of the dive. We receive them. We say “welcome friend, we’re happy you’re with us”? We mean it.
Such is the change in the wind.
If you have these thoughts, congratulations! You’re thinking during a time of mass stupidity. Necessarily, you are or were distinct from the frantic masses. It’s not over. This is but the end of a bad first act. So take refuge where you can find it. Maintain your connection to nature.
Nature may kill you but it’s never dumb.
I had a handful of donations and a desire to stay rooted. What more motivation does one need? I would hang out with trees; they’re good company. They’ve got their shit together.
I spent a little extra time on Honey Badger before this trip. Honey Badger is my Yamaha TW200. Small, stout, crude, tough, simple. If a BMW adventure motorcycle took a shit, it would still have more payments and wiring than a TW200.
My bike was filthy; as it should be. My bike is for wandering the earth. Thus should be coated in it. The only filth I care about was on the chain.
(I hate chains on motorcycles. My other bike is shaft drive. Shaft drive is simply better. I won’t be dissuaded from that until I see a chain driven Honda Civic. Some caveats, if you’re wringing every last bit of power in a heroic effort to make physics your bitch… then a chain is slightly more efficient. Have at it! Crack the throttle until you see God. Not for me though, I’m out to smell the roses. Also, if you’re a Harley guy dying to tell me all about belts… don’t.
Chains need maintenance but they’re simple and obvious. My bike’s chain was coated in a sandpaper like patina of dirt. I pulled the chain guard, slathered it with chain cleaner and… oh you’re supposed to wait a bit for the cleaner to kick in? Screw that! I scrubbed it off more or less immediately and hosed it down. This did indeed wash the topsoil off. It looked shiny. Good enough.
Then I rolled the bike onto my well worn utility trailer, strapped it down, and took off. You know what I didn’t do? I didn’t lube the chain. You’re supposed to let the chain dry first. Let it bake on a trailer. I had places to go and things to do!
(To be continued.)