This is from an interview with the news anchors at WGN in Chicago. I think it’s a fine idea! It’s very short at just 2.6MB, so have at it.
Know what? I just realized that my three-part series on pistols which I’ve groped has not necessarily not shown up on the Strolling Amok homepage on the date that each was actually published. Instead, they’ve gotten buried in the past, according to the date they were first begun as rough drafts. It’s a WordPress thing. That doesn’t affect anyone who has subscribed to this fiasco, since the notification emails always have direct links to the post. For everyone else who just wanders in to the home page, they see nothing new – it’s buried way back in the stack. That’s a tragic loss to all the people who have not subscribed. Yeah. Sure.
So, the most recent post on the mighty Smith & Wesson Model 500 is here, while an earlier post on the Glock Model 23 is here, and last and least, a post on the Ruger 22/45 Mark II is here. If you don’t enjoy things that go bang and throw pellets, don’t bother. Then again, they may prove to be a potent antidote to insomnia. If you do geek out on firearms built for very different purposes, or simply enjoy finding out how one life can be derailed so badly from making a difference in the world, just click on a link!
The photo above shows off the latest essential mod to any boondocking rig, a vintage brass plaque to a motor club. I’ve had it laying around for decades, with the plans to do something with it someday. I assume I picked it up at a garage sale, of which I am a recovering addict. The lack of space to put stuff really helps with that. It has three holes in it for mounting, so some stout copper wire did the job on the Mighty Furd’s grill. I think if I lived in a metro area, I wouldn’t expect it to still be there after a few months, so we’ll see how long it lasts out where I go. I don’t happen to use Triple-A as my Roadgoing Adventure insurance, so this is purely a decorative item as far as the Furdster is concerned.
In this day of cheap window stickers and clubs that exist mainly to generate income and profits, such badges as this serve to remind me that automobile clubs originated to help members with the myriad of problems that presented Read more…
[If you are just now stumbling onto this post without having read the various parts in this series from the beginning, I strongly urge you to go back to the start and continue on from there through each successive post. None of these individual entries stand on their own, and you may wind up with little but confusion and unanswered questions by starting here. That is easily done by entering “The Nature of God” in the search box on the home page, which will list links to all available parts.]
If you have read through this series of posts, you’d now think that presto, this guy got through whatever unexplained problems he had and now walks with God and stuff, right? Well, not exactly. I have to summarize and not explain things, because the details are not relevant to the topic, frequently involve other people, and this series of posts would top out at 700 or more parts. You don’t want that, trust me.
It turned out to be a very timely thing that God gave me such a bulletproof sense that his One-on-one affection was so deep and, when push comes to shove, unwavering. It was timely because I promptly and unknowingly headed into the swirling circumstances of what I considered to be Shitstorm #3. Without that utter convincing, I might not have made it through. Time passed, and I headed into Shitstorms #4 & #5. At some point still a decade short of the end, my very brief solace was a counselor who said, “The good news is that, obviously, this situation can’t possibly get any worse than this!” Oh, yes it could, and did, oh my yes.
In general, I never felt that constant, close connection with God that I had hoped for through all this. It was more of a distant relationship, with us crossing paths every great now and then. He would give me something intimately meaningful and restorative to keep me going, and then seem to be off and away. Something made me suspect that Read more…
In 1785, Robert Burns penned To A Mouse, which includes the lines, “The best laid schemes o’ Mice an’ Men, Gang aft agley, An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain, For promis’d joy!”
I’m apparently just about to hit the “gang aft agley” part, since a prolonged heat wave expected to last at least through the third week of July will make camping a distinctly unpleasant experience, and it gets markedly worse the farther west I go. Please, no cheese with my whine, thanks. We’re talking triple digits here, folks.
Currently at a rest stop near the western edge of Wisconsin near Sparta, I just found all this out while Read more…
The above is a shot taken at 8AM, temperature about 38 degrees. Welcome to Flagstaff in late May. It was a cold one last night, with the temperature 30 degrees at 10 PM. That’s right when the furnace ran out of propane, so I got shoes on and stepped outside to swap the Grandby’s twin 10# tanks. The 2″ of snow on the ground was a surprise, as was the 26-degree low for the night at 4 AM. I had the fabric-area window covers and extra-layer Arctic Pack buttoned up to slightly slow the cascade of cold air from the fabric. It worked pretty well, what with the furnace set to 58 and the batteries reasonably happy to power it for a lot of On Time. (You can subtract about 10 degrees on the bed platform.) Today is forecast to reach a high of 60, and a low of 30. I’m at a little higher elevation than Flagstaff, so I might be a couple of degrees colder than that. Warmer air should be moving in tomorrow. That’s good, as a tank of propane that lasts me a couple of weeks at “normal” temperatures cuts down to 3-4 days in this kind of weather. Tomorrow is resupply day, just to avoid any chance of draining the “spare” tank before Monday noon.
Yesterday, I went on a stroll down a marked trail that’s not on any map I have. FS9123G. Since it’s not on my MVUM map, it’s not for motor travel. It was once, but is doing its best to Read more…
Yesterday was both neat and wearing. Driving southwest down route 35 across Kansas just happened to take place while a cold weather front was moving in. A 25+ MPH wind shifted from south to north-northwest and all points in between during the course of the day before it finally weakened over the last couple of hours in New Mexico. But that still left plenty of nudging the steering wheel while cutting across the Oklahoma Panhandle and Texas. Calculated mileage spent much of its time at 9.0 MPG in the direct headwind, while only in New Mexico did the day’s average limp up to 10.5, all while holding a steady 65 MPH. I didn’t really need the onboard calculator to tell me I’d need to keep an eye on the fuel gauge, since the turbo boost gauge was into hill-climbing readings just to hold speed on the flats. It was a reminder to me that for all our technology, we’re still very much subject to forces much greater than our own.
The part of Kansas I was in was dormant farmland, and tumbleweeds were flopping across Read more…
This is just for those of you who don’t subscribe to this blog and instead just come by now and then to see what’s new. The latest post is actually here, but you don’t see it on the top of the home page because this blog software posts in order of entry start date, not published date. Begin an entry a year ago, and that’s where it is in the final stack. I forgot that, so click on the link above if you want to check out the latest.
Okay, so it’s not a barn find, it’s a garage find. And it’s not virtually undiscovered, it’s part of the large collection of some guy with Old Car Collector’s Syndrome. I’m currently in Indianapolis, and it looks like I’ll be here in limbo for quite some time, so while I have a pleasant if unnerving wait, you’re stuck with posts like this, using iPhone photos. Next week’s post may be on the price of rusty razor blades in Kazakhstan. Anyway, he’s owned this car for 10 years, and it’s been in storage for a total of 15 years. More accurately, it simply hasn’t been run for 10, which is nowhere near as good as having been prepped for long-term storage. Whoever tries to fire up this thing now is probably going to have a bit of work to do.
This car is a 1968 Jaguar E-Type coupe, also called the XKE, retrofitted with Jag’s tri-carb on its 4.2-liter straight-six for power. It was called a 2+2 for it’s expanded seating arrangement, which has a rear seat with way too little legroom. Thus, they did not call them 4-passenger cars, which would have dampened the Read more…
While so many people do their best to make the world a more difficult place to live in, it helps to step back every now and then to remind ourselves what life is really about, and to appreciate that our place in it matters, whether we sense that or not. “Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, dwell on these things.” We are not left helpless as we look around ourselves. Live in your own little piece of the world as it needs to become, not as a contributor to the one that is.