I've often thought that if I could find a small motorcycle I'd drag all the parts over to Vermont and pay my son to build one. He's a welder and fabricator and the motorcycle wizard. After his motorcycle trip to Brazil he knows a bit about rough roads.
Sorry for the pun Steve, but it pains me to hear you so. Or are you contemplating poking Silver Bear?
The bloody virus. And the variant now circulating.
Part of a new "ADV:Overland" show at the Petersen Museum in LA: "The first Peking to Paris rally began in June 1907, and was immediately canceled. Only five of the 40 entered teams arrived in Peking, but they drove the route regardless, following a telegraph line through China, Mongolia, and Russia. Four cars finished, but the sole trike – a Contal Mototri - was abandoned in the Gobi desert. Driver Auguste Pons and journalist Oscar Foucauld were lucky to walk out alive.
110 years later, Anton Gonnisen was inspired to duplicate Pons’ doomed ride by entering a Contal in the 2019 Peking to Paris rally. Finding a 1906 Contal proved impossible, so Anton made an accurate copy, with a stronger engine and wheels.
I'd give the old boy a jab with the short sharp stick but I'm afraid that he'd be able to keep a safe distance ahead of me. Neck has seized up and when I turn to the side there is an unpleasant crunching sound and my arms start to go numb.
The French Canadians have a great term for moments like this. "Tabanac!" Never could find out what it means but I do have it on good authority that it tightened the Priests and the Nuns up when they heard it. My boyhood friends took great joy in informing me of this. Not being Catholic they felt that I should share in the joy.
It must have been something not to be used without great caution because I worked with a half dozen French Canadian's for a few years and when something went really wrong there would be a great "Tabanac!" go up from one of them and all the others would straighten up and look around frantically to see if they had been overheard by higher authorities.
The tri car was very popular before the motor was invented as delivery bicycles. Europe and the U.K. had tri cars or fore cars as they were often called since people and goods rode in the front or the foreword part of the bike. As a ships sections were named fore and aft.
The Indian motorcycle and the tri car accessory sold together for $325. A car was thousands of dollars so a large section of the market belonged to tri car makers until Mr. Ford came along.
Québécois, Gotta love em. What other naughty expletive's can you teach us Whipper Snappers?
Neck has seized up and when I turn to the side there is an unpleasant crunching sound and my arms start to go numb.
I don't like to hear that Steve, I know enough that with those symptoms to say you may be Tabarnac'd !
Keep us abreast of how you fair. I didn't know, and was just trying to jack you up. I got a Bro in Law Rich is in the same boat with it. His mother was so afflicted with crippled hands that her Tool and Die Maker husband fashioned special handles of her fork, spoon , and knife as she was very independent and preferred to feed herself. I would say some other things.
Best to keep my fingers off the keyboard. My progress is pure sloth. When I stopped working a real job. I no longer was constrained by time available. Tabarnac!
I don't know if most people knew what it was. They loved to use it but were indeed afraid of it. That was the way the word was used. Only in the most dire situations and with great caution.
When I was a kid one of the old, much mimeographed jokes that used to go around the offices was of a chap dressed as a voyageur sitting on a chair at the bow of a canoe on saw horses with his head in his hands.
When you looked at the canoe the stern was pointing up and the bow was pointing upside down.
Indeed one of those moments. My dad spoke fluent Canadian French but he wouldn't tell me what it meant but told me never to use the word.
That one was my favourite, Tom. Best bang for the buck. Rest were sort of run of the mill.
I was told by a doctor about 30 years ago that with my neck condition I could would look off to one side and I'd never walk again one day. I never think about it until moments like this. Sounds like walnut shells being crushed slowly.
Pain and numbness is certainly no fun Steve. I wouldn't know it if you hadn't mentioned it based on your usual positive demeanor. I was hit in the forehead last winter by a flying 1x6 piece of white oak. I'm not very superstitious in saying "Great Tabarnac!"
You just know how to not cheer up a pessimistic person Steve. You have the right and the pain. This is post 3,534 of a heroic thread.
Forgive me if I am impertinent, I am given to such, in my natural ways. Think Alpha dog.
I will never get the syntax right, but why the Tabarnac is Silver Bear not picking up the slack when you need a break?
Not my business. I am just one car on your roller-coaster on a helluva ride.
This afternoon I started to sort and salvage what had been left in my job cart that I took to each work station.
Who ever was assigned the task, didn't know my property from the companies. Will have to do a trade.
I reckon they will get the better value, but I want what's mine. Worst work environment next to a cast iron foundry.
Be good Steve, and be well.
Sometime a grunt or a sigh, but a swear word on occasion when I have not been awake but a few hours and then take a drive. While driving nothing feel too bad, but when I stop driving. Either if I get out and stand up and move around or just sit not moving stinging needle pain in one hand. I don't think I cause too much problem not being able to keep quiet. I even have had some ask if I need help, though nothing is needed really. But I've been just accepting this. If it got to what you mentioned sure look an see what help you can get! As on the Red Green Show, "We're Pulling For Ya"!
Enjoy MT, I did not search but there must be many Foster Brooks youtubes. If I grill Tuesday, may be a primary source of heat. Our over night will be 44F. Kind of like southern shore of Lake Superior.
A smack on the forehead with a piece of 1x6 white oak. That is an attention getter and the only thing good that can be said about it is that it wasn't a piece of 2x6 white oak. It's interesting that the person who finds you lying there almost always asks if your OK. Even more amazing is they expect an answer.
I hope there wasn't any lasting damage but behind every bad scar there is a great story.
I just mention my health from time to time in case I disappear and the family doesn't get to the list of people I want contacted telling them what happened. Silverbear is at the top of the list but that's no guarantee he'll hear either.
I do my best to keep up beat and not be beaten down. When I was 22, Dec. 19, 1965 I was involved in a bad car accident. I wrote about it here years ago. I died in the ambulance between the local hospital and the larger city hospital. The EMT got me back after some struggle and when one of my nurses leaked that by mistake since it wasn't her job to do it I made up my mind that there was nothing on this sweet planet that was worth worrying about and do my best to power through the pain.
One thing that makes it possible is a pocket sized device by Dr. Ho. It's a T.E.N.S.+E.M.S.+Pulse Massager for anyone who does physical therapy. In lay peoples terms it sends small electrical impulses to the affected muscles to stimulate them.
Just to add a chance to make it really exciting they have a wheel on the side to to adjust the intensity of the impulses. #2 is about as much as most people would want. When you bump the wheel by accident to #5 you spill the countries state secretes you didn't realize you knew in a strange language you didn't realize you were capable of.
How ever the countries secretes are safe because no one will understand you even if they could through the shrieks and yelps.
Just keep smiling and moving forward. Yesterday it was sharpening all the kitchen knives and today I think I'll try and do a bit in the Epics frame. I'll give the Indian tri car every ones best.