Livin’ the Dream … The Diaries of a Madman (2 Viewers)

[KOWBOY]

Camper’s plugged in and bat’ries are chargin’. s***ter’s empty and clean. Water tank’s topped off. Done stripped down the bed, washed and dried the sheets at the nice lil’ laundry-mat they got here, and made the bed back up. Time to walk on down to the Sourdough Saloon. Kickoff’s in ‘bout an hour and a half.

“Well I gotta get drunk and I sure do dread it ‘cause I know just what I’m gonna do …”

 

[KOWBOY]

Monday, 03 February

29 degrees at sunrise and the truck fired right off. Only cycled the glow plugs a single time. I shut ‘er right back down and went back to bed.

The sign above the pisser in the mens room at the Sourdough Saloon reads:

“Please do not throw cigarette butts in the urinal. The fingers that pick them out are the same fingers that put ice cubes in your drink.”

I reckon I read that sign well over a dozen times yesterday. Helluva party. Bar owner had a pot luck deal goin’ and all the locals brought some grub. I felt bad I had nuthin’ to contribute. So I just bought the bar a round. Boom … easy way to make new friends. For ev’ry drink ya bought ya got a raffle ticket. Durin’ halftime and at the end of the game, the owner raffled off door prizes mostly donated by the beer deliv’ry fellas. I think I won like 7 times. Got a fantastic cheese and salami party pack thang from Hillshire Farms. Lil’ knife and cuttin’ board comes with it in the box. And won a really nice hat with the bar’s name on it. Once the sorry-ass football game was over, the owner dumped a bunch of money in the juke box. Folks had the classic country goin’ and danced the night away right into this mornin’. Large time to be sure.

Just think for a moment how many decisions ya make durin’ the coarse of a day. And ev’ry single one of ‘em has some sort of ramifications. Some might be minor and only affect you. Others mite be huge and possib’ly affect hundreds … or even thousands of people. Some folks make daily decisions that can affect entire nations.

With that said … I’ve decided to stay here another day. And I’m pretty sure ain’t nobody gives a damn. And I think that’s pretty cool.

Believe I’ll ease on back down to the Sourdough …

 

[KOWBOY]

Wednesday, 05 February

Well … we can all stop wonderin’ now what’s gonna be the first thang I break on this rig.



Meanwhile ...

27 degrees yesterday mornin’ and the truck fired right off. Thinkin’ mite be all set on this subject. Time to get the hell outta Beatty. Before I drink myself to death and the husbands catch up to me.

Eased on outta town and headed south. ‘Bout 5 miles later I seen this road.

Quick … what’s your first thought of this pic??

 

[KOWBOY]

If’n your answer’s “I gotta know where that goes.” … then you mite just qualify for this lifestyle. So off I went. Once I got up into the foothills, got steeper and looser so threw the doubler and rear locker. Then hit a switchback from hell. Off camber and loose so had to throw the front lever as well. Thank gawd for the hydro-assist steerin’. Pushed them big-ass tires around durin’ my 5-point turn it took to get the big bitch pointed in the new direction. Came up to the next switchback which was doable in one swing. Looked up the mountain just a bit and seen a whole herd of white asses headin’ away from me. Got a miserable, blurry pic with my cheesy camera. Hard to believe they didn’t run outta sight with my clankin’, straight-piped diesel headin’ up the road.

 

[KOWBOY]

Lookin’ on up the road, I could see where a rock slide was blockin’ the way so I hiked the short distance to this hole in the ground. Lookin’ more like a quarry-type deal to me rather than a mine.

 

[KOWBOY]

This is lookin’ back down to the easy switchback where I stopped. Still a pretty tight place to turn around a full-figured rig.

 

[KOWBOY]

Eased back down to the highway and headed south again. Made the turn onto highway 160 to head over to Pahrump. Never been to Pahrump. And ain’t no reason to go back neither. But it was on my way to the World Famous Mountain Springs Saloon.

 

[KOWBOY]

Mountain Springs ain’t really a town. Cute lil’ barmaid said the only thangs there is the bar, a volunteer fire station, and 45 homes. And coupla hun’erd bikers on any given summer weekend day that roll up from Vegas. Set up real nice like the biker bars in Florida. Outdoor stages, huge bar-b-que cookers, burn-out pits, horseshoes, etc. Neat place with lots of character.

Talked a bit to three fellas from New York that were in Vegas workin’ a convention and had the day off. They’re in town a lot and knew the sights. Told ‘em where my next bar was and they told me it was possible to cut right across the desert to get there instead of havin’ to go thru Vegas. Most excellent.

So I back-tracked just a bit and hooked a left onto Sandy Valley Road.

And my life changed. Least the short-term plans anyhow.

 

[KOWBOY]

Washboard dirt roads suck. There’s only two ways to drive ‘em … real slow … or real fast. That simple. Wonder how this big ol' bitch’ll do baja-style?? Done driven that way plenty of times before … but not in a rig of this sort.

Game on!

Crank up the engine tuner a coupla notches. Both hands firmly on the wheel. Left foot braced against the cab wall. Right foot mashin’ the hell outta the skinny pedal. Launch in … three … two … one …

Road didn’t have no blind corners. And was in pretty good shape. Runnin’ ‘tween 65 and 70 seemed to be ‘bout right to float on top of the washboards and still have some control as I drifted ‘round the corners. Some of the whoop-de-doos thru the washes felt like I was gettin’ air. If’n I weren’t … the suspension was certainly stretchin’ out.

It was dangerous.

It was intense.

It was invigoratin’.

Son-of-a-bitch it was a good time.

It was just a “devil-may-care” period when livin’ for the moment was all that mattered ... Livin’ the Dream.

I was drivin’ like there was no tomorrow. ‘Cause tomorrow didn’t matter.

I don’t know how far I drove like that. And it don’t matter. I got to pavement in the lil’ town of Sandy Valley, NV and slowed down to the posted 25 mph. Sandy Valley, NV ain’t too prosperous to say the least. White Trash ev’ry where ya looked.

And then I looked in my driver’s side mirror ... and seen the tread on my spare tire.

Just ain’t no way I should be seein’ that.

Pulled over to the side of the road and discovered a catastrophic failure of my Aluminess spare tire carrier. My s*** was broke up in a coupla places and it’s a small wonder I didn’t drop it off on the road.

 

[KOWBOY]

Bummer.

The tire was just hangin’ on the edge of the bumper by a thread. Damnit son.

Drag out some of my heavy-duty ratchet straps from Mac’s Custom Tie Downs.

Push. Ratchet. Shove. Ratchet. Got a coupla straps ‘round the wheel to suck it back down tight. Good to go.

Blurry picture is ‘cause I was tired of fightin’ the damned thang and was unsteady.

 

[KOWBOY]

Problem is that if’n I swing this thang open I’m gonna lose ev’rythang. And I gotta swing ‘er open to get in my camper. And I gotta get in the camper to get my s*** out to catch a plane back to work.

Only thang I know to do is to keep on headin’ to the bar and think this thru. Somethin’ll work out. After all … I’m Livin’ the Dream.

The Pioneer Saloon has been in Goodsprings, NV since 1913. It’s rich in history and famous for its many visitors. From Hollywood to Nashville, the walls are adorned with autographed pics of the rich and famous. From the bullet holes in the wall to the massive one-piece wood bar, this is a piece of Nevada history. Of American history by gawd.

I took my token pic of my truck sittin’ out front but it didn’t turn out no good. Maybe Santa will bring me a decent camera.

After a coupla beers, a woman walked in. A local among the tourists. And a damned-fine lookin’ local at that. There’s only 2 hun’erd people that live in Goodsprings. And this one’s gotta be the sexiest.

Meanwhile, a group of fellas walked in the door and loudly asked who owned the big-ass Ford. Had to go outside and give ‘em the nickel tour. Man was partners with a fella that just built a half-million dollar trophy truck. On the test run last week, the driver barrel-rolled many, many times doin’ ‘bout a buck-twenty and the truck was a total loss. Video on his smart phone was most impressive.

Made me feel better ‘bout my lil’ damage to be sure.

He was in the market for a Sportmobile 4x4 van and wanted to know my thoughts. But the really cool thang was that while I was talkin’ to these nice folks, the local lady came out to check out my truck as well. Most excellent.

Maybe a buck ten at best with painted-on jeans. You gotta be kiddin’ me.

When we got back in the bar she sat next to me. You GOTTA be kiddin’ me.

We struck up a conversation ‘bout my crazy lifestyle and what I was plannin’ on doin’ ‘bout my broke truck. Told ‘er I’m thinkin’ I’ll just park in the desert and drop the bike and tire so I can get in the camper. Then try to jam ‘em both in the camper somehow so I can drive to the airport in the mornin’.

She said it’d seem to be easier to just drop off the bike and tire at her place and park in ‘er driveway. Hard to argue that. Damned hard.

So up to the top of the hill we go to her house overlookin’ the town. Mighty fine place.

Yank off the bike and the tire so I can get in the camper. Hop back in ‘er truck and ease on back to the bar. I enjoyed her comp’ny.


So 45 minute drive this mornin’ put me at the Vegas Airport.

Now I gotta get in touch with Aluminess and see what, if anything, they’re gonna do ‘bout their bumper they sold me.

Not sure what direction this is gonna go at this point. ‘Cept I know when I fly back to Vegas next time … I’m headin’ straight to Goodsprings. Gotta go check on my bike and tire.

(Editor's Note: Picture of the Pioneer Saloon taken a coupla weeks later and added here.)

 

[KOWBOY]

END OF CHAPTER 3

 

[KOWBOY]

CHAPTER 4

So … where were we? I remember … my bike and spare tire were in the lady’s house in Goodsprings, NV and my junk was at the Vegas airport with a broke spare tire carrier.

So on my next week off, I flew into Vegas and headed to Goodsprings. Next mornin’ we chunked the bike and spare tire in the back of her truck and she followed me down to San Diego. Dropped off the truck, bike, and spare at Aluminess for reconstructive surgery. Had fun in San Diego … even went to the zoo. Them folks gotta great zoo there. Then back to the Vegas airport and back to work in Baltimore.

Next week off, I flew right into San Diego and got my junk. Aluminess done nuthin’ short of a fantabulous job on the new upgraded version of the tire carrier. Said didn’t want me haulin’ the bike on the thang tho. So I sold it. Drove on up to Beatty and stayed drunk the rest of the week. Then back to the Vegas airport and back to work in Baltimore.

My next week off I spent whorin’ ‘round the casinos in Laughlin and the bars in Bullhead City. Good times. Then back to the Vegas airport and back to work in Baltimore.

Got yanked outta Baltimore and sent down to Miami. Miami sucks. Bad.


Wednesday, 23 April 2014

The only good thang I gotta say ‘bout Miami at all is that I was able to get a direct flight to Vegas. Which meant I was able to land at a somewhat decent time. Stop for diesel, milk, and beer and off to head thru the main gate of the Lake Mead National Recreation Area. Weren’t nobody mannin’ the entrance station so couldn’t show off my new annual pass. Bummer. Maybe arrivin’ at midnight is a free time. Sure startin’ to have some serious doubts ‘bout the logic of buyin’ an annual pass in order to save money on the friggin’ entrance fees. Quickly made my way to Government Wash Road and found me a flat spot for the night. Felt good to be back on track and on the move.

Thursday, 24 April


Woke up early and broke camp. Eased on into Callville Bay to top off the water tank. Then headed north to Overton. Each turn along the way brought back memories. Cuz I done been on each end ev’ry one of ‘em. But startin’ to get a bit too warm in these parts so time to adjust my latitude. Stopped off at my favorite Ace hardware for a few supplies and then stopped again to fill up the propane bottle. Hit the 15 North and never looked back.

Stopped off at a gas station in Beaver, Utah just south of the 70 cutoff. Big item in the gift shop was racks and racks of t-shirts proclaimin’ “I love Beaver”. They also had fellas walkin’ ‘round the gas pumps and cleanin’ windshields for ya. While they was doin’ that, they was lookin’ at your tires to boot. The place was also a big tire store. I seen ‘em convince a coupla dif’rent folks they needed new tires. Good bid’ness plan.

Hit the 70 and rolled into Grand Junction, Co. Among other thangs, home to Otto’s Restaurant and Lounge. Mediocre chicken-fried steak but ice cold Coors. Had one steak and more than one Coors. Pulled into an RV Park and the sign said 32 bucks. You gotta be kiddin’ me. Signs all over town tho sayin’ there’s a city ordinance that there ain’t gonna be no overnight RV parkin’ in any parkin’ lots in town. Or they’ll arrest ya and send ya to prison to be Bubba’s play toy. Wow.

Only one thang to do … head to Big Willie’s.

 

[KOWBOY]

Friday, 25 April

So why the hell am I in Grand Junction anyways?? Had to drive right by Moab to get here for Gawds sakes. Well … because it’s also the home of Alcan Springs. They make leaf springs. Custom leaf springs. And they made a pair for me. The 6” ICON springs on the rear are overloaded so I had a pair made up to handle the 59 hun’erd pounds I got on the rear tires. When I ordered ‘em bout 6 weeks ago, I told ‘em to hang on to the damned thangs and I’d either come fetch ‘em or tell ‘em where to ship ‘em. Coupla weeks ago I done decided to just come fetch ‘em and then play ‘round in Moab. They told me all they do is make ‘em … they don’t install ‘em. But they gave me the phone number for Big Willie’s Garage and said they can do the install. So a week ago I call Big Willie’s to make an install appointment. They called Alcan to confirm the springs would be done. Alcan said they’d done shipped ‘em to my billing address in Texas. Whoopsie … reckon it’s time for me to call Alcan. Man confirmed my springs were delivered and signed for. I explained to ‘im that there ain’t no way they coulda been signed for since none of the cows there can write. And I need my springs installed Friday as per our original plan. Can I speak to the owner please?? Owner’s a real nice man. He’s the one I been dealin’ with the whole time. Said they were makin’ me a new set even as we speak and they’d get UPS to go fetch them other ones all at their cost. And they’d deliver my new springs to Big Willie’s Thursday evenin’. All is good.

So last night I stumbled and bumbled around ‘till I found Big Willie’s Garage. Here’s a pic I snapped this mornin’ … with my new cam’ra By Gawd.

And maybe Big Willie’s RV Park?? That’s me in the back of the lot where I spent a very peaceful night. For free.

 

[KOWBOY]

If’n a man’s gotta coupla hun’erd grand layin’ ‘round, Big Willie will make you an award winnin’ street rod. Or for a coupla hun’erd, he’ll install a set of custom leaf springs. Nice shop, nice folks.

Here’s the ICON spring on top and the Alcan spring on the bottom. Both 6” lift with no blocks. The Alcan leafs are thicker and the biggest dif’rence is the overload springs. The Alcan units weigh hun’erd and 10 pounds each. Reckon it takes weight to carry weight. ICON uses the traditional flat overloads so that the long leafs have to compress down until they meet the overloads. Thus the ass of my junk was squattin’ like it was fixin’ to take a crap. The Alcan overloads follow the same arc so there’s no initial squat. As with ev’rythang else on my junk … time will prove it’s merit. Y’all stay tuned.

 

[KOWBOY]

The shop rate at Big Willie’s is 75 bucks an hour for gas rigs and 85 bucks an hour for diesels. Not sure what the hell rear leaf springs gotta do with the powerplant but of course I was billed the diesel rate. Other strange thang ‘bout Big Willie’s is they actu’ly enforce the no customers in the shop rule. Ev’ry shop’s got that posted but this was the first shop I ever been to where it was enforced. So I’m sittin’ in the waitin’ room and notice that next door is a machine shop. IntraWest Machine & Fabrication Inc to be exact. When the two halves of my swing-out bumper come together they got holes that line up so a fella can put a lock in ‘em. I ain’t got much int’rest in usin’ no lock but I’d sure like to have a pin that would go in there and be real quick to use. That way in case one of the latches fail, neither half could swing open. But the hole ain’t quite a half-inch and I been havin hell tryin’ to find somethin’. So I’m figurin’ just gettin’ a 7/16” bolt and drillin’ a hole thru it on the bottom so I can slide in a hitch pin. Simple enuf. So off I go next door. I tell the man what I’m thinkin’ and we get an escort into Big Willie’s so I can show ‘im what I got. He got the jist of it and asked if I was set on usin’ a bolt. Told ‘im not at all. So he whipped out his pocket calipers and commenced to measurin’. ‘Bout half hour later he handed me this.

Machined outta stainless. It’s a piece of art. Man wanted 30 bucks. I give ‘im 40. Here it is in use. Mighty fine.

 

[KOWBOY]

So ‘bout noonday, I roll outta Big Willie’s parkin’ lot. And settin’ purdy darn level with no air in the bags. Truck is much firmer now but not harsh at all. I like ‘em. Mize well go see how they’re made.

Here’s the racks of raw materials shipped in from a steel plant in Illinois.

Here’s the thangy’s they use to form the right size eye and the machine that does it.

 

[KOWBOY]

Here’s the fella quickly (blurred action pic) yankin’ a spring outta the 17 hun’erd degree pizza oven and puttin’ it on the rack. After a few minutes they dunk ‘em down in that tank of mineral oil.

If’n they need to be arched, they go on this contraption and get formed prior to bein’ dunked.

 

[KOWBOY]

Then get drilled, riveted, assembled, and painted … and shipped to the wrong place. Nice shop, nice folks. They give an excellent tour if’n ya find yourself in the area.

So down the road I go. Moab or bust. Or until I get to Exit #214 for Danish Flats. I’m thinkin’ not too many folks take this particular exit. Kinda lonesome. But it’s exactly 50 miles from Big Willie’s so I gotta stop and torque down the new u-bolts. 4” by 11”. 5/8 stock with 15/16” nut. 125 ft-lbs. And since the exit sign plainly indicated “No Services” available at this exit … I had to do it my own damned self.

 

[KOWBOY]

Stopped off at the lil’ store at the turnoff for Moab to get me a Dr. Pepper. Monster friggin’ Super Duty rolled in behind me. Way, WAY up in the air. Punky kid jumped outta the cab and I asked him how much lift he had. He said with great pride that he had 12” suspension and 3” body lift as he looked over at my junk. I asked if I could look at the suspension and he gleamed. Boy had 12” blocks settin’ on top of the fac’try blocks. U-bolts as long as my arm. Darwin at work. Just hope he don’t take out anybody else with ‘em.

The hun’erd mile stop for the torque thang weren’t no more scenic. In fact, barely enuf room to get off the road.