Hey, Dok, have you seen the state of the roads lately?

[East Coast Hustle]

I'm leaving tomorrow. Leaving this valley of torpor and contentment to cross 2000 miles of wasteland and another 1400 miles of a different kind of wasteland in pursuit of my own personal boomtown. I have a week's worth of food, water, and cold-brewed retard death coffee. A laptop with wifi. A rat named Robot Nixon for a co-pilot. A blanket and pillow, some flares, and 2 duffel bags full of clothes. A case full of ridiculously sharp knives, plus some more knives. A full complement of hand tools. Oh yeah, and I'm armed to the fucking teeth. I'm driving into the mouth of a storm, apparently. I can stop short of SLC and hope that by the time I cross the wasatch range on thursday temperatures will be high enough that everything will be rain from there to the continental divide. Or, I can push on and try to get all the way to Evanston, WY before I stop for the night tomorrow, leaving the worst of the storm to pass west of me on thursday morning but knowing that I will be spending a night in my truck in the high empty wastes of western Wyoming in the snow and the wind with nothing but my rat and my gun to keep me company and of course that high keening wail outside is just the wind whipping through the canyon. These are strange times and there are strange things on the road. The empty places aren't empty any longer...


...or, at least, not the kind of empty we wish them to be.

I intend to be antagonizing rightpunks in Omaha with Z3 by friday night, but I don't expect anything. For all I know, I could end up taken captive by some strange mormon cult. I could end up being some sadistic cop's newest chewtoy. I could just end up as wendigo food.

I know this: we live in interesting times, and I intend to live them right to the fucking hilt. The only thing that terrifies me more than the thought of someday finding the truth behind this highway is the thought of never finding the truth behind this highway. It's time to find out what's out there, and Robot Nixon and I are just the trigger-happy bastards for the job.

I'll talk to you again on friday

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

A rat named Robot Nixon! This, alone, assures success.

[BADGE OF HONOR]

For all I know, I could end up taken captive by some strange mormon cult.

Don't forget to hit me up, though I might be at work when you breeze through.

[Richter]

Godspeed, and tell the wendigo I say hi.

[-Kel-]

If you get to us (SLC assholes) it looks like you might be riding in on a thunderstorm. 

[East Coast Hustle]

Sadly, I'm probably going to have to take the cut-off and hit 80 right from 84. If I go into SLC and then take 80 out of the city, I'm going to end up having to drive up that godawful hill east of town in the snow and I'm not down for that. If, however, I end up actually stopping for the night somewhere between Brigham City and SLC, I'll hit you guys up.

Fred, I should be in Cleveland on monday. PM me with your digits if you want to get beers.

Cram, I'm probably going to be forced by time and vehicular constraints to stay north of you but if it looks like I can spare the day I'll drop down and pop in. I'll know when I leave Michigan if I have time, and I'll let you know.

Suu/Dimo/LMNO/Eve/Etc., As with Cram, I probably won't be able to stop and hang out on my way through, but since I'll be a 6 hour drive away all summer, we'll definitely be drinking beers together at some point this summer.

[LMNO]

I was thinking of doing a B&B weekend sometime this summer, anyway.  Might try to make it up to Maine.

Incidentally, Bordain was on TV the other night, at a place in Rockland, ME called "Primo's".  Fully sustainable farm/Restaurant, with some of the best food Tony said he's ever had.  Do you know of this?

[Doktor Howl]

Wise move, going armed.  It would be better to wait for one of the escorted convoys, but I know you have a schedule to keep.  Some of those Mormons have been in the hills too long, and they view people with out of state plates as a windfall of protien, easily caught.

Consider:  You stop for gas in North Foulness, Utah (population dot), and go inside to use the bathroom.  When you come outside, all of your tires are flat, and nobody is around.  You call AAA, and while you're waiting for the truck, the sun goes down.

Nobody was ever arrested, no body was ever found.  Just another missing Gentile on a milk carton.  Just another out of towner in the cold case file.

No, your best bet is to take a sawzall to your back end, and install a 55 gal barrel full of gas with a line running to the tank.  Drill a hole in the floorboard for a "relief tube" to minimize stops.  Carry a large caliber rifle...the small stuff won't even slow them down.

And don't ever stop, ECH, even if there's a wreck in the road, with victims strewn about.  Once you're out of your car, those "victims" will be on you in a flash, all crooked teeth and webbed fingers.  This isn't Oregon, and it isn't Maine.  It's Utah, and the state troopers carry flensing knives in their trunks.

Good luck.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

bump

Where do I come up with this shit?   

TGRR,
Has no memory of posting that.

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

Fucking 

[Freeky]

 

[Precious Moments Zalgo]

 

I missed this before.