Or as I call it, "Pagan Dirt Worship Day." The religion of the Commies as an excuse to control you to save the planet. Horseshit!
Its 39 degrees out right now. My big V-8 pickup is sitting outside running to warm up inside before I drive away. Tonight I will have every light on inside and out as a beacon of freedom.
Violent crime has been spiking across the country for the past couple of years. Last night I watched a rerun of the movie "Zombieland" and was reminded of the rules to survive a zombie apocalypse put forth by the characters "Tallahassee" (Woody Harrelson) and "Columbus" (Jesse Eisenberg). In an era of coddling criminals, BLM bullshit, de-funding the cops, rampant mental illness and drug use; there's no reason to not apply these rules to the violent sub-human criminal element.
The original rules from the first movie:
"When the virus struck, for obvious reasons, the first ones to go were the fatties."
"You had to get a gun and learn how to use it, which leads me to my second rule: the double tap. In those moments when you're not sure the undead are really dead-dead, don't get all stingy with your bullets. I mean, one more clean shot to the head."
"The Swiss army used that knife for a reason."
I'm good with these for a start. Stealing catalytic converters in the dark of night is a big thing in Kommiecticut right now, mostly in large parking lots like apartment complexes or shopping centers. Come out my way to the rural hinterlands and you may find my pickup truck with the electrified exhaust system. The cause of death of the potential thief will simply be listed as cardiac arrest.
But not without some mechanical gremlins requiring a 45 minute real pit stop.
I called my most reliable riding bud earlier in the week to discuss a ride on my day off Friday. He is retired, so he goes whenever he fuckin' feels like it. I suggested meeting for breakfast, but he said he had a chemo treatment in the morning so it would have to be lunch instead. The chemo cocktail he is currently on does not kick his ass, and he doesn't even feel it for a few days, so he would be good to go. He suggested I meet him at medical building and we go from there. It was sunny and warm last Friday so waiting out in the parking lot listening to the sound system on "The Beast" was not a big deal. As usual I was armed and my bike gun has become the S&W 45 Shield because of how slim it is compared to my Ruger SR9c. I had two spare mags at my 7 o'clock and all fit secure, comfortably, and concealed.
He comes out later than expected because the infusion center was running behind. No problem, because I always carry snacks and munched down a package of Belvita biscuits to take the edge off my growing hunger. We mounted up and headed out. The plan was lunch at Harry's Drive-In located on RT. 85 in Colchester. But first a stop for fuel on RT. 30 in Manchester. I take the lead from there.
We cut across some back roads to get to the intersection of US 6 and RT. 85. When we get to the intersection we have the green light and shoot across US 6 heading south. A short distance later at I-384 there is a stop sign and when I look in the mirror, he is nowhere in sight. I pull over and put the 4-way flashers on watching for him. As I prepare to double back, here he comes. He tells me his rear wheel locked up causing a stall, and it did the same thing earlier in the day. He says lets go not to worry. OK... but I make him lead so I know if there's a problem. He misses the hard right turn to follow RT.85 and I try to signal him, but he doesn't see me so we end up in Bolton Center. When he realizes he fucked up he pulls over again. He tells me to lead because he's not sure where that turn is coming from the opposite direction. We continue on.
RT. 85 has another stop sign at West Street/Camp Meeting Road in Bolton. He pulls up next to me and says his wheel locked up again, and I say we need to stop and see what is happening. There is a cabinet company just south of the intersection so we pull in to their parking lot for the pit stop. 15 minutes into the ride and mechanical issues either need to be solved or we bag the ride and get his Goldwing to the Honda dealership.
We dismount and he informs me he did put a new brake pedal on the day before, and never had problems previously. A quick examination and I've found the problem; the pedal is not returning all the way up, the arm is bumping into the bottom of the foot peg bracket. The pedal attaches to a splined shaft for the rear brake mechanism, and was one spline off. Luckily, he carries a real good tool kit and I get busy trying to fix the problem. The mount for the brake pedal is behind the foot peg mount, so that has to come off first. I remove the pedal and rotate it one spline clockwise, then fit it back to the shaft. I put the foot peg mount back on for a test fit and VOILA! that's all it took and the pedal returns all the way back up. I pull the foot peg mount off and set to installing the brake pedal permanently. Arrrgh! the splined shaft slides in and out, so I have to hold it from behind to permanently mount the pedal. Of course, right in my way is the screaming hot exhaust pipe. I was able to use a box wrench in between the arm for the rear brake mechanism to hold the back of the shaft in place to get the pedal in its proper place. The shaft clamp retainer bolt was tightened, and the foot peg re-installed and inspected to make sure everything fit and worked properly. It did. So just to bust his balls a little bit I started quoting him labor charges for a motorcycle roadside mechanical service. By the time I added extra fuel and COVID charges I was up around $200. He told me to get bent. The ride to Colchester was uneventful so my repairs were obviously spot-on.
We got down to Harry's and since it is Good Friday and we are good Christians, we order fish sandwiches. Harry's food is good, but kind of expensive. Another biker friend of mine that lives near Harry's calls it "Buck-A-Bite." Two sandwiches, each with a side of their homemade potato chips and a soda was $25 bucks! But hey, I only eat there once or twice a year, so no big deal. We finish lunch and decide to continue down RT. 85 to the Kommiecticut shoreline.
We get to New London and hopped over the Gold Star Memorial Bridge on I-95 to get across the Thames River. It is the only way to continue east without going all the way back up north to Norwich. My plan was to head for Avery Point in Groton. We get there but we don't stay too long. UConn has now taken over most of the property and school is still in session, plus it was blustery with the wind coming right off Long Island Sound over the cold water. I know the way back out to US 1 and I lead us out and into downtown Mystic. My plan was park downtown and grab some ice cream at a place on Main Street near the drawbridge. I thought we'd have no problem because it was a weekday, but I totally forgot that schools and businesses were closed for Good Friday. Shit... downtown was a zoo, forget it. We just continued east on US 1 to RT. 27 where we started heading north again. We stopped at a gas station to use the restroom and ran into a guy from Rhode Island on his brand new 2021 Goldwing. We bullshitted bikes with him for a good 40 minutes before heading north on RT. 27 again until the end. I then used the on-board GPS and the compass heading N-NW to get us up to RT. 2A through some real nice country roads. Pleasant riding through there. We went RT. 2A across the Thames River on The Mohegan-Pequot Bridge to I-395 north to RT. 2/RT. 32 to head for Willimantic. We crossed the Frog Bridge in downtown Willimantic and headed up RT. 195. Since my riding partner needed to return to Manchester before heading home to Windsor, I got him to the entrance of the US 6 highway portion and we parted ways. He called me later to let me know he made it home with no issues. My riding total for the day was 138 miles, not a bad start for the season. Depending on fuel prices going forward will determine how much more I get out.
April 19, 1775
as well as other "events" that took place on April 19th, mostly bad and perpetrated or caused by government actions.
For He is Risen!
I will be celebrating with family later on today. Armed of course, to protect my loved ones from the perpetrators of evil. Fudds say that can't happen to you, you're just a paranoid idiot. Oh yeah? The residents of this home or the quiet suburban neighborhood in Killingly, less than 20 miles from my house didn't think so, either.