Blessing of The Bikes New London, Kommiecticut

Yesterday was the Blessing of The Bikes event held at the waterfront in New London, Kommiecticut sponsored by the New London M/C. It was a scorcher but relief came in the form of a stiff sea breeze off the cool waters of Long Island Sound. Because the Patriot Guard had a booth with a tent, we spent a good amount of time there, and I did my normal "aggressive" recruiting tactics. More on that later. It ran from 11-3 and we got down there a little before 11. Parking the bikes was a bit of a cluster but patience won out and everyone got parked so no one got locked in and could easily leave at any time.

Looking down the main drag of the piers where we were parked. There were lots more parked all over

None of my riding associates belong to any clubs, but there were lots of clubs represented there and everybody was polite to each other. Including the supposedly baddest of the bad The Hell's Angels. I have been at several events where they attend, and they ALWAYS behave themselves. But then, who in their right mind is going to go fuck with them? I am sure there was a proliferation of carried weapons, yours truly included, but amazingly as usual at these events there were no incidents of any kind. Armed polite society as the saying goes, unlike the shootings and other assorted violent crimes that occurred in the urban jungles around the state this past weekend. To prove the violence is more cultural or geographical and not a racial issue, there were plenty of black and brown people at this event, including clubs that were predominantly minority members. When everyone shares a passion like motorcycles, there is no reason for animosity and blatant racism is not present.

There were plenty of bike related vendors and food trucks. The New London MC was expecting 2000 bikes and I'll bet the number was higher. Getting food was pretty easy as the lines moved fast. We ate at Bear's BBQ which always has great food. A little expensive, but a huge portion. I got their brisket burnt ends served up in what they called a "Mac Attack." A layer of cornbread, a layer of their delicious Mac-n-Cheese, and then the meat. I slathered it in their sweet Kansas City sauce and washed it down with a bottle of water.

The view from where we sat and ate. It's the line for Supreme Hotdog. The Army patch is on my bud's back.

After lunch, we walked around and scoped out the vendors. The only thing we bought were event t-shirts being sold by the New London M/C. We brought them back to our bikes and moved the bikes up closer where lots of parking had been vacated. It got us 1/4 mile closer. We then ducked under the PGR tent for shade. About my recruiting tactics... most of the time when a PGR table is set up, those manning the table just sit and wait to be approached. Not me. I grab a handful of brochures and head out to the main walkway and hand them out. I explain to people how easy membership is and what the minimum requirements are... respect for the flag, the fallen, and their families, THAT'S IT! People are surprised that there is no meetings, dues, initiation, veteran or motorcycle requirement. Sign up with your email address, receive the mission alerts, and show up if you can. No one will ever bust your balls if you can't show up all the time or end up having to drop out. Every mission has a briefing so everyone knows where to go and what to do. Experienced members will help you with the military honor and parade commands if you didn't serve and don't know them. I hope my efforts pay off.

Looking towards the vendor area and the band stage. The large brick building is the New London train station.

I am sure any Branch Covidians will think this was one of those dreaded "super-spreader" events, because OMG... there were a couple thousand unmasked people breathing free and not caring whether you got the jab or not. There was also no social distancing, as people greeted each other with handshakes and hugs. But then, this Chink Bug was a "PLANDEMIC" not a pandemic, and the tyrants with their lockdowns had to give up the emergency power before it was "taken" from them by force.

The Birds

No, not the Alfred Hitchcock horror movie, the only hummingbirds here in the northeast, the Ruby-Throated Hummingbird. And we have lots of them this year. 

My former neighbor fed them like crazy, and had multiple feeders around his house with lots of customers. When they moved away the replacements can't be bothered with feeding (readers of my former blog will recall fellow blogger Mr. Garabaldi named the wife "Bitchy McBitchy Bitchface" and for good reason). Bonus for me, because the little devils have all moved down to my house. 

Ruby Throated Hummingbird pair. Male on the left, female on the right. No gender mental illness here.

 

They are bold and fearless for such tiny creatures. We sit on our front porch where the feeders are, and they fly all around us as though we aren't there. The first time we experienced this was in 2002 on a trip out west and we stopped in Kanab, Utah at the Best Friends Animal Society sanctuary. The main building was a ranch style that had a front porch down the entire length. Every 6 feet or so was a hummingbird feeder and there were swarms of them buzzing and dive bombing the patrons. It takes a little getting used to, but it is really cool. The other day, I was just standing outside my basement door nowhere near the feeders, and a curious male flew right up and hovered less than 3 feet from my face for several seconds checking me out before he flew away. Several times a season they end up trapped in my garage because they think they can take the shortcut to the feeders by coming in the roll up door and going out the window, which unfortunately is closed. Then they can't figure out to go out the big giant open door. Its worse if the fluorescent lights are on because it messes up their vision. I'll shut the lights off and wait a while, and sometimes they'll get out on their own. Other times they need assistance. I learned very early on there is only one way to capture and release them, and that is by hand. Of course, they tend to go up high and hover in between the joist, so I have to get up on a ladder to perform the rescue. They will totally avoid any kind of net, but if you slowly approach them from behind with your bare hand while they are in flight, you can encircle them with your fingers, gently hold onto them and let them go outside. They weigh almost nothing.

As the weather has warmed they are very active from just after sunrise until dark. The feeders we have hold a good amount of sugar water and are made so that the proportion of  sugar to water is foolproof to mix. Fill the compartment with sugar, and the reservoir to the line with boiling water and swish it around. The feeders are clear poly-carbonate so they are easily cleaned and dishwasher safe, but they normally just need a rinsing. I have them suspended on monofilament fishing line to keep the ants out. Ants can't navigate fishing line, and the holes for the hummingbird beaks are too small for bees to get in. From now until the end of summer when they migrate south, I will be refilling the feeders every couple of days.

This morning they were going bonkers. I grabbed my Nikon D5600 with my 70-300mm telephoto and started shooting. Below are what I feel are my best shots.

A female perched in my budding Rose O'Sharon

A solitary female at the red feeder

A pair of females at the blue feeder

Most of the feeding birds seem to be females, and they aggressively enforce who gets to feed and when. The photo above is unusual for me to have two girls at once sharing a feeder, but I believe until the flowers really start blooming and there is more food available elsewhere, it will be tolerated. My wife put some flowers out back in pots and the window box on our deck, the Bleeding Heart still has blooms on it, and the Azalea just finished. That is where I had seen the males mostly feeding although they will come to the feeders as well.

More Old School

Along the lines of my kind of a gag post Message 2021.0377 picking on the young `uns that can't do or understand the things from our youth.

My analog Watches. A newer Smith and Wesson S.W.A.T. and a 10+ year old Timex Expedition, both sporting a Velcro wrap style band that are inexpensive ($8 at Wally World) and last a long time.

 

The S & W is water resistant only, while the Expedition is water proof to 100m. It was a freebie from my niece that works at S & W. I'll wear the Timex kayaking and such, the S & W for daily wear. So when some young person that sees my watch were to ask me what time it is, I will have one of two responses.

1). "One of. One of the reasons you need to get a watch." (That was my daughter's favorite)

2). Show them my watch face and say, "You tell me."

Sorry, but I would much rather wear a stand alone analog watch than either have to pull out my cell phone, or wear one attached to my cell phone recording my bio-metrics for either government snoops or the CCP. It also reliably tells me the time as soon as I look at it without having to wake it up, even in the dark.

Buh Bye Glug-Glug Jug

Since I completed today's yard work earlier, I thought I would do a post on gas cans. ALL of my yard and snow removal power equipment is gas powered, either 2 stroke or 4. I had my fill of battery or electric powered yard equipment. First off, my Dad was horrible with gas powered equipment his entire life. Old stale untreated gas, dull blades, never changed oil, never understood starting with a choke or primer, etc. During the gas shortages of the 1970's, he bought a Toro electric plug-in lawmower with a 100'+ extension cord. What a pain in the ass to mow our yard! You would get to the end of a cut, turn the mower and get lined up for the next cut, and flip the long lever that held the cord and flipped it out of your way. We still ended up chopping up the cord, getting it wound around the blade shaft and having to splice it back together. They sucked so bad, I can't even find a description or photo of it online. Of course, it wasn't self-propelled and the bag would fill up fast requiring it to be dumped every couple of passes. I have about 1/2 +/- acre of property around my house to mow. Using my Honda self-propelled walk behind mower as a mulcher doing a normal length maintenance cutting, I can do the entire 5 sections of yard in the same amount of time it took us as kids to do just the front and back yards with that piece of shit.

Anyway, back to the gas cans. I have a pair of 2 gallon Blitz non-vented gurgle cans that would ALWAYS spill more gas than you could imagine. I use them for the lawnmower, snowblower, power washer, or sometimes to top off the generator or bike. Anything that needs straight 87 octane gas. The label is still intact on one of them showing the STUPID (but supposedly environmentally friendly) spout arrangement. Tell me again how spilling gas on the ground is better than allowing a vent to the atmosphere, which actually sucks air in to displace the gas? Oh, that and the "safety" factor because idiots were either killed or badly burned pouring gas out freely trying to light a campfire. I have used gas a few times to light fires, but I toss small quantities of gas from a cup at a distance, and you NEVER let your fire wood sit soaked in gas. It will blow up in your face when you walk up to light it.

From a seller on eBay, I purchased a gas can retrofit/repair kit. These are VERBOTTEN here in Kommiecticut, and are unavailable from retailers like Cheaper Than Dirt. They make you input your zip code to see if they will ship to you, or others will rebrand them as "water spout kits." For $25 and free shipping, I got five of these kits in a package. I have two complete kits left.

Spout, cap, two different size retention collars, a screw type vent cap, and a vent retrofit cap

I turned a difficult to use messy gas jug into an easy pour version that has yet to spill a drop.

Pop open the yellow vent cap and spout cap, and pour away easily

 

The yellow vent cap installation requires drilling. I put it on the flattest spot on top, and used a slightly under-sized drill bit for a tight fit. Make sure the jug is empty and dry before drilling, so you can easily remove any plastic pieces that fall inside. Use the black or yellow retention collar that fits your jug.

Next up, a pair of older Scepter gas jugs; a 2 1/2 gallon and a 5 gallon that are for usage on my generator. As long as I can purchase gas somewhere during an outage, I just refuel the generator and then refill these jugs without tapping into my emergency supply.

The 2 1/2 gallon jug already had a good flexible spout. The vent cap was split needing replacement

 

The 5 gallon Scepter jug had a stiff plastic spout. I bent it to fit the gas tank fill of my truck too many times and it split down the sides. The new flexible spout fits and works perfect. Its original vent cap was also split requiring replacement.

All my emergency gas containers are tagged with the date and station name. Yes I am that anal.

All my gas is stored down in my barn, 100' away from the house. The chance of fire is minimal, since there is no permanent electricity down there. I run a heavy duty outside extension cord to the barn when I want power. The barn is wired for outlets and lights, and there is a male 3-prong cable on the rear exterior to plug the extension cord into. It becomes our clubhouse when we have bonfire parties.

My now illegal gas jugs, on top of my equally forbidden Jerry Cans. The 5 gallon jug on the left is already the old style I got from my Dad. Cleaned out first, of course.

I do have one old metal "Stan Can" brand gas can that has all its original parts that I mix my 2-stroke gas in, but it is in great shape. I use a universal mixture called Optima 2 in all my stuff and have for years. One pouch of Optima 2 to one gallon of gas (I use 93 octane only) and it works regardless of mix ratio. Its a little more expensive than standard 2-stroke oil, but not as expensive as pre-mix tool fuel.

I Am The Last Holdout

Nice, warm, and sunny yesterday afternoon. Although quite tempting to hop back on "The Beast" and head down to the shoreline for the afternoon, the yard needed trimming and mowing. So I got 3 of the 5 sections done. I will hit the last sections later today when the grass dries. When I came in after finishing, the dogs were nowhere to be found. I located them upstairs... in bed with my wife! Last I knew, she was at work and Wednesday is one of her late days. She doesn't normally come home until sometime between 9:30 and 10:00 but here it was like 7:00. She was obviously ill so the conversation was brief and I let her be.

When she came downstairs later she told me the news, she went and got the J & J jab and was having a reaction. Bottom line, she succumbed to the pressures being applied by the tyrants; government, private business, and the Karan Brigade I guess. She said she wants to see her father in Florida (meaning fly with no hassle), and a bunch of other "reasons." None of her "reasons" are compelling enough in my opinion and have viable alternatives. I am more surprised than disappointed, because she shuns flu shots, and the pneumonia shot she should also get, as well as needles in general. I will not discuss her decision with her. It is done and nothing will or can change that.

The jab is a one-way trip. Get it and there is no going back. I feel like I am going to eventually be like one of the characters in the movie "Resident Evil" living with a ragtag band of survivors killing off those that survived the mass die off in some post-apocalyptic dystopian world.