GreyBeard Dreaming

Monday, November 24, 2014

Tuesday, November 18, 2014

Wake me up when it's over.

Side Boom Pipe Layer.

Me'n JJ hauled about ...about...we hauled a BUNCH of these things from a pipeline laydown yard in Arkansas (near Bald Knob...and another place) Houston Texas.  Took about a day to load...a day to haul...and a day to return...

lather, rinse and repeat.  Sometimes we got lucky and hauled two in a week....each.

Whut? Whutchew looking at?

Superintendent of Operations.  He's making mental notes of the proceedings...

The biggest Dump Truck in the world.

a Serious Truck


A Boy and his Beam.

I loved that trailer..

D-10 Cat Dozer 
(I think...might have been a 9...or 11)
(I forget)

I shoulda NOT got into anything bigger.  That trailer could haul damn near anything (that I needed to)..  and it was cool.

It's an old talbert beam.  And I mean OLD.  It was built back when they knew how and gave a damn about building trailers. 

It's a detachable goose neck, hydraulicly operated, beam.  Notice there IS no deck?  The load is sitting astraddle a four foot beam.  It's sitting on wood.  BIG wood.  Some of those oak blocks (2 ft x 2ft x 4 ft ) were damn heavy. I COULD lift one..but would rather not.

You learnt 'tricks' to moving heavy stuff like that around.

And I had heavy chains.  1/2 inchers.  

To move Iron you NEED iron...and I had it.

Too bad I wanted more...

A tower section for a Wind Turbine.

back in the day this used to be considered large...

This is a Base section.(see the little door?..let's workers in from ground level)  It's the piece that sits on the ground. Everything else is stacked on top of it.

It goes on a wind turbine that used to be considered large.  Possibly a two megawatt.

Now days this is nothing remarkable..

I love those trucks...they just look AWESOME.

Twin Steer...Twin truck.

The oil patch uses them like you'd use a spoon\, or a warehouse would use a forklift.  They move stuff around using them.  They call em 'lay down truck.  or rig trucks.

Heavy themselves they weigh damn near 80K...but you need Iron to move iron...

A real transformer

The big transformers for power lines are heavy.

  Notice how close that trailer is sitting to the ground?

Notice the number of axles that rig has?  Rule of thumb for load carrying capacity is 20K lbs (max) per each axle plus 14K for the steer...(sometimes more)..  so seven axles is permitable  to 6k x 20k + 14k = 134K  lbs.

Empty weight on that rig was (if I recall) about do the math.

That was a medium heavy transformer.

It takes a while to build those...and it takes a while to move them and install.

The electrical infra structure wasn't built over night...

A Network Named Tsu

Tsu is about a month...perhaps six weeks old.

It's too early to make any judgements right now.  One thing of note that I find very encouraging...the following.  Below is an email I sent to Tsu.

.......notice that I got a REPLY!!!!

when's the last time you got a reply from FaceBook?

Tsu Support

8:11 AM (2 hours)

Hey tsu User,

Thank you very much for your suggestions. Our team is hard at work looking into any ways we can enhance the experience for our awesome users like you. Your continued commitment to making tsu a community for authentic and quality engagement is very much appreciated.

Enjoy tsu!

On Sun, Nov 16, 2014 at 5:15 PM you wrote:
Dear Sirs:
Congratulations on Tsu.  I intend to become one of your super-users.
It has come to my attention that I am allowed
* 36 posts in a rolling 24 hour period.
* 8 shares of posts from others in a rolling 24 hour period.
* 50 pending friend requests in a rolling 7 day period.
* 1,000 people I can follow
* 5,000 friends.
That's fine.  Your sandbox...your rules.

Might I suggest that you include a "count down"  indicator for each of these limitations?
for example
You have "x" posts available at this time.

and so on.

One other thing.

When you get around to it I would suggest "rooms" or SIG's or some such to allow segregation according to topic or interest.

Thank you
Everitt Mickey

........That's encouraging.  (sure...I know it's a canned generated..but still)

Which   brings me to my "point" observation.

Tsu is different from FaceBook.  It might be different from other Social Networks I dunno.  I don't have any accounts anywhere else.

The difference is not always a good thing.

An analogy would be.

On FaceBook I'm among Friends...a small group of Friends.

As a social outcast (by choice) an introvert, pretty much an A*hole and an introvert...I have damn few real life. I grate on people.  (Oh well....I yam what I yam...and it's too late in life to be making any serious changes).

But I value the camaraderie...I 'see' people  I know..and they know me.  We have a 'relationship' of sorts.  (it doesn't hurt that I've met a good number of those people in the real world)

Tsu is different.  It's like............going to the mall.  A bunchaton of people..all going their own way.  Many of them are consumed with the idea of making money (not an entirely bad thing)..

BUT...there is no camaraderie...

We need to change that.  The mall is ok..but I like the corner bar better.

've haff the just to figure out how to use it.

Back in the Day...

Old Pictures..

I was digging around in some old files the other day and I came across this.  This brings back some memories.  Not the big burger (it was called "the amigo)...but the tone of the times.

Back in the day things were different.  I envy those old farts.  I'm JUST old enough that I barely missed out on it.  

I'm an introvert and an anti-social hermit so it's my own damn fault...BUT.  Sometimes I feel like the little kid standing out in the snow looking in the window at the other kids at the High School Prom.

Back in the last millenium the last truckin company I was leased to was a whole nuther animal from what we have now days.  They worked hard and they played hard.  No one got hurt.  The cops knew this and pretty much left everyone one alone. In fact some cops acted like real people and the old truckers kinda liked them.

Back in the day that truck terminal off of Sheldon Road in East Houston was known as "Party Central".  All the old truckers would try their damndest to arrange to wind up there for the weekend.  It's a frickin HUGE lot.  I"ve seen fifty trucks parked there.  

Come Friday night the party would start.  They had a permanent Bar-B-Que Grill set up under the old oak tree.  (frickin' HUGE tree)...They grill dead animal flesh and drinks lots and lots of beer.  The bathrooms was right there and when people were done they'd go sleep in their trucks.

.......and then there were they guys who wanted something stronger than beer.  They went to the bar.  The bar was just down the road a bit near Ernies (the place where I got the Amigo Burger), so they'd walk.  The old truckers (young guys in their prime at the time)  would drop a wad of money drinking beer, flirting with the girls and having a high old time.

Come quitting time they'd all walk back to the a group.  Truckers ain't stupid (well not REALLY stupid) so they formed a line along side the road. They walked on the shoulder between the bar ditch (actually a freaking CANAL back then) and the blacktop.  There must have been a dozen of them...

...........with a police escort.

That's the deal.  Back then cops were real people.  They took their motto serious "to serve and to protect".  Friday nights they "served and protected" some drunk-ass truckers by giving them a police escort for their quarter mile walk back to the yard.

I can just my mind....a dozen or so truckers...hootin' and holering...and staggering toward the yard.  One behind the other, forming a conga line...with cop car behind them driving slow...with it's lights on...alerting traffic.

"Ya'lls is almost at the gate now's time  to be thinking about turning.." the cops would say over their PA systems from inside thier car.  Nice of's easy to miss a turn when it's that drunk out.

There was an alligator (or more) that lived in that Canal.  It'd swim along beside the Conga Line every Friday. It like the singing maybe?  

ONe day a driver fell in the canal.  Three more jumped in to help.  They was afraid FOR the poor old gator...they didn't want it to be traumatized.

The cops finally threw them a rope...or something...and drug em all out.  I dunno how bad it shocked the old gator...

All gone now.

Cops are the enemy...Ernies is closed.  The ditch is almost dried up and the Bar-B-Q grill is gone.

Dreams of a finer time... 

Sunday, November 16, 2014


Note:  this is NOT my original content.  I got it off Larry Correia's Blog...Monster Hunter Nation.

In my experience it is absolutely true.


1,Skim until Offended
2,Disqualify that Opinion
3, Attack, Attack, Attack
4, Disregard Inconvenient facts
5, Make Shit Up
6. Resort to Moral Equivalency
7, Concern Trolling
8, When all else fails, Racism!

Rules for Radicals.

Note...this is not my own original content. I found it on the internet.

It's from Obama's manual of operation. His mentor Saul Alinsky is the author.

12 Rules for Radicals

Saul Alinsky

* RULE 1:Power is not only what you have, but what the enemy thinks you have.” Power is derived from 2 main sources – money and people. “Have-Nots” must build power from flesh and blood. (These are two things of which there is a plentiful supply. Government and corporations always have a difficult time appealing to people, and usually do so almost exclusively with economic arguments.)

* RULE 2: “Never go outside the expertise of your people.” It results in confusion, fear and retreat. Feeling secure adds to the backbone of anyone. (Organizations under attack wonder why radicals don’t address the “real” issues. This is why. They avoid things with which they have no knowledge.)

* RULE 3: “Whenever possible, go outside the expertise of the enemy.” Look for ways to increase insecurity, anxiety and uncertainty. (This happens all the time. Watch how many organizations under attack are blind-sided by seemingly irrelevant arguments that they are then forced to address.)

* RULE 4: “Make the enemy live up to its own book of rules.” If the rule is that every letter gets a reply, send 30,000 letters. You can kill them with this because no one can possibly obey all of their own rules. (This is a serious rule. The besieged entity’s very credibility and reputation is at stake, because if activists catch it lying or not living up to its commitments, they can continue to chip away at the damage.)

* RULE 5: “Ridicule is man’s most potent weapon.” There is no defense. It’s irrational. It’s infuriating. It also works as a key pressure point to force the enemy into concessions. (Pretty crude, rude and mean, huh? They want to create anger and fear.)

* RULE 6: “A good tactic is one your people enjoy.” They’ll keep doing it without urging and come back to do more. They’re doing their thing, and will even suggest better ones. (Radical activists, in this sense, are no different that any other human being. We all avoid “un-fun” activities, and but we revel at and enjoy the ones that work and bring results.)

* RULE 7: “A tactic that drags on too long becomes a drag.” Don’t become old news. (Even radical activists get bored. So to keep them excited and involved, organizers are constantly coming up with new tactics.)

* RULE 8: “Keep the pressure on. Never let up.” Keep trying new things to keep the opposition off balance. As the opposition masters one approach, hit them from the flank with something new. (Attack, attack, attack from all sides, never giving the reeling organization a chance to rest, regroup, recover and re-strategize.)

* RULE 9: “The threat is usually more terrifying than the thing itself.” Imagination and ego can dream up many more consequences than any activist. (Perception is reality. Large organizations always prepare a worst-case scenario, something that may be furthest from the activists’ minds. The upshot is that the organization will expend enormous time and energy, creating in its own collective mind the direst of conclusions. The possibilities can easily poison the mind and result in demoralization.)

* RULE 10: “If you push a negative hard enough, it will push through and become a positive.” Violence from the other side can win the public to your side because the public sympathizes with the underdog. (Unions used this tactic. Peaceful [albeit loud] demonstrations during the heyday of unions in the early to mid-20th Century incurred management’s wrath, often in the form of violence that eventually brought public sympathy to their side.)

* RULE 11: “The price of a successful attack is a constructive alternative.” Never let the enemy score points because you’re caught without a solution to the problem. (Old saw: If you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the problem. Activist organizations have an agenda, and their strategy is to hold a place at the table, to be given a forum to wield their power. So, they have to have a compromise solution.)

* RULE 12: Pick the target, freeze it, personalize it, and polarize it.” Cut off the support network and isolate the target from sympathy. Go after people and not institutions; people hurt faster than institutions. (This is cruel, but very effective. Direct, personalized criticism and ridicule works.)

Rules for a Gunfight.

Note...this is not original content.  I got it off the web. I've seen it many places in many forms..

This is one of them.

... Rules of Gun Fighting
(Marines; Army; Navy; Air Force)

USMC Rules For Gun Fighting
  1. Bring a gun. Preferably, bring at least two guns. Bring all of your friends who have guns. Bring their friends who have guns.
  2. If you can, make friends with those on the crew served weapons. Bring them as well. Borrow money from them, it gives them an added incentive to protect you.
  3. Anything worth shooting is worth shooting twice. Ammo is cheap. Life is expensive.
  4. Only hits count. Close doesn't count. The only thing worse than a miss is a slow miss.
  5. If your shooting stance is good, you're probably not moving fast enough nor using cover correctly.
  6. Move away from your attacker. Distance is your friend. (Lateral and diagonal movement are preferred.)
  7. If you can choose what to bring to a gunfight, bring a long gun and a friend with a long gun.
  8. In ten years nobody will remember the details of caliber, stance, or tactics. They will only remember who lived and who didn't.
  9. If you are not shooting, you should be communicating (calling for arty or air support), reloading, and running.
  10. Accuracy is relative: most combat shooting is more dependent on "pucker factor" than the inherent accuracy of the gun.
  11. Use a gun that works EVERY TIME. "All skill is in vain when an Angel pisses in the flintlock of your musket."
  12. Someday someone may kill you with your own gun, but they should have to beat you to death with it because it is empty.
  13. In combat, there are no rules, always cheat; always win. The only unfair fight is the one you lose.
  14. Have a plan.
  15. Have a back-up plan, because the first one won't work.
  16. Have a back-up, back-up plan in case CentCom or SecDef finds the first two plans "unacceptable".
  17. Use cover or concealment as much as possible. The only visible target should be in your gun sights.
  18. Flank your adversary when possible. Protect your flank.
  19. Don't drop your guard.
  20. Always tactical load and threat scan 360 degrees.
  21. Watch their hands. Hands kill. (In God we trust. Everyone else, keep your hands where I can see them).
  22. Decide to be aggressive ENOUGH, quickly ENOUGH.
  23. The faster you finish the fight, the less shot you will get.
  24. Be polite. Be professional. But have a plan to kill everyone you meet.
  25. Be courteous to everyone, friendly to no one.
  26. Your number one Option for Personal Security is a lifelong commitment to avoidance, deterrence, and de-escalation.
  27. Do not attend a gunfight with a handgun, the caliber of which does not start with a "4."
Army Rules for Gun Fighting
  1. See USMC Rules to gun Fighting.
  2. Add 60 to 90 days.
  3. Hope the Marines already destroyed all meaningful resistance.
Navy Rules for Gun Fighting
  1. Adopt an aggressive offshore posture.
  2. Send in the Marines.
  3. Drink Coffee and eat donuts.
Air Force Rules for Gun Fighting
  1. Kiss the wife goodbye.
  2. Drive to the base in your sports car.
  3. Fly to target area, drop bombs, (try not to hit the Canuks) fly back to your home base.
  4. BBQ some burgers and drink beer in your back yard

Telepresence Heavy Haul

The Ten Axle Beam hauling the D-10 Cat pulled into the job site.  It rumbled around and stopped.  It was a STRANGE looking rig.  Not at all like what the customer was used to seeing.
And it got worse.  This THING  dropped down from the side of the Cab.  It got out of a a closet.  It looked kind of like a guy in a suite of armor...but "cute".  As if it were purposely designed to be inoffensive looking....NOT scary.
The little robot (what else could it be?) walked over to the supervisor....and looked up at him (short robots aren't near as threatening).....
"where do you want it?" the little machine asked.
Bemused...the supervisor kind of waved...."over there....where ever"
"Ok" said the cute little robot..."be done want to sign now or later?"
"Oh...I'll sign doesn't matter" said the supervisor.
"OK" said the robot "holding up an electronic tablet..."anywhere will do"
The little robot then positioned itself such that it had a good view of the rig...came to a sort of parade rest....and waited.
The rig pulled forward a bit...then backed up a bit...then stopped.
Two MORE Robots dropped down from the Cab.  These did NOT look friendly.  Metallic Hulks...they were.....HUGE.
They, in conjunction with the as yet unseen driver,  began the unload process.  First the pony motor on the trailer was started, and the air in suspension in the trailer was inflated.  The trailer, and it's load was thus lifted....about three foot up.
The two "hulks" then removed LARGE pieces of lumber from the trailer and placed them under the tracks.
The trailer was then set down...not too far...and the Hulks began unchaining the load.  Chains removed the trailer was lowered till the Cat sat entirely on the lumber....and the trailer continued to lower...until it sat frame on the ground.
The Hulks lumbered around...doing this and that....and the tractor and the Jeep pulled forward....the jeep was then detached and left over to one side , out of the way. The tractor then backed  under the trailer...the Hulks did this and that and the tractor with the trailer neck, pulled away.
The Two Hulks then went to the rear of the necklace trailer/stinger combination and positioned themselves at the rear.  At some unseen signal the two began to pull.  They pulled the trailer/stinger back...back...until the Cat was sitting, on lumber, by itself.
The little robot then approached the bemused supervisor.  "Do you want to have one of your guys move it somewhere or do you want us to?  "..
"Oh.." the supervisor gulped..."I think we can handle it"..
He turned, to see his whole crew just standing there...watching.
"Jim...move that Cat over to the holding area...the rest of you YaHoos get back to work...haven't you ever seen a truck unload before?"....he said.
One of the hands climbed up into the cab of the Cat, fired it up, and carefully drove off the blocks...then clanked and clattered over to where it was to be parked.
As soon as the Cat was out of the way, the Hulks lumbered over to the jeep and pushed it onto the trailer,padding it appropriately with the necessary lumber and securing it with chains. ....The truck then backed up to the trailer and the neck was re-attached.  The two hulks then fiddled with the rear of the trailer and detached the stinger....then standing on either side they lifted it straight up.  The driver then backed the trailer under the suspended stinger.  The hulks sat it down and chained it in place.
Making sure all lumber, chains, securement devices and whatnot were properly stowed and secured .....  The robots then climbed into the tractor which then pulled out of the yard and left.
The driver was never seen.  Just as well.  It was difficult for him to deal with people.  Being a paraplegic and horribly scarred from a childhood airplane crash he avoided people as much as he could.  He would rather deal with them via his telepresence robots...


Chapter 31: Riding around town..

Cord and bubba ride around town.
And.  Are.  Stared.  At.
They look just a touch unusual.  Not Cord so much...he looks like a Biker now.  A Full Bore Biker. Beard, belly, leathers, cigar.  The bike?  It's a nice bike.  Exotic.  Obviously a one-off from someplace like Orange Country Choppers, Big Bear Choppers or one of the places that built exotic bikes.  A touch odd that it has a long sissy bar sticking up the rear.

With a cat lounging back against the sissy bar. The cat was about the size of a Rottweiler dog.
………..that was different.
The cat.... was Bubba, and he was obviously having a fine time.
Too much fun.  Naturally the police had to spoil things.
"Do you have a license for that cat" ask the cop after they were pulled over.
<always the fricking license..>" muttered Cord under his breath...<first i need a license for a cane and now for a cat? What next…a license to breathe?   >
"Do I NEED a license for a cat? " Asked Cord…trying desperately to be polite?  One must  ALWAYS be polite to cops….always.  If you’re not polite to a Cop they might just  kill you, AND your cat.
"Where's a  park anyway, you know...with grass and stuff." asked Cord.  "me and Bubba feel the need to play some frisbee.".
The officer must have noticed that Bubba wasn't restrained, or that  Bubba had  a TOOTHY grin. He backed up a step and put his hand on his gun.

"Fiwiiiishbeeee"  Bubba said in his snarly raspy voice and Grinned at the officer. The cop was taken aback some then Bubba looked at him and winked.
<Did that cat really talk?> he thought to himself.

“Did that cat really talk?" he said out loud.
"My buddy wants to play Frisbee officer.  We're completely harmless. He's not a real cat...he's an animatronic feline, a robot dummie. I’m a ventriloquist of sorts.  Sometimes I use him to get free beer in bars.”
"Whu Yu Calling a Dummie, Fat Boy?"  asked Bubba...deadpan.  He Moved jerkily and made threatening motions at Cord to the sound of   exaggerated electro-mechanical noises
The officer kind of laughed....not so tense now.

Cord leaned a little closer to the officer and spoke to him in a lower, more confidential voice.  “I’m actually a  scout for a major movie studio.  If I told you the name I’d have to kill you.  I’m scouting out a new location for an up and coming world wide mega-blockbuster movie. I can’t tell you the name of it either.  What ever city I pick will get an economic infusion of millions of dollars. I’d appreciate it if you’d pass the word about me being a scout and all? It could save lives”.  Cord lied thru his teeth, trying to diffuse the situation.”

“Got it?” he asked the cop, still in that secretive voice.
“Got it.” replied the cop quietly...completely taken in.

Cord straightened up , and stepped away from the cop.

"Thank you officer" said Cord..." now as you can see we're perfectly harmless law abiding citizens"
" do that pretty good" the cop said, thinking he understood and  now playing along.  "It sounds just like the Cat is talking"..
"Cat's can't talk” said Bubba  " that would be absurd."
“Now where is that park?" asked Cord.
…….just as Bubba went on a rant.

"Can we go now?" asked Bubba
"Can we go now!
Are we being detained?"  asked bubba...lots louder.
The cop looked at cord, alarmed at first..then he grinned.   
He  and made a big show..for those who were watching.

" You’re damn good with that cat.  I thought it was real at first.  The Park’s down that a way. You're heading the right way “said the cop  "...just a few miles further then turn right.  It's not too far from there to the University Park.  Lots of kids play Frisbee there. Don’t get too sunburned. Have a nice day.”  ...He turned and walked back to his patrol car.
"whew" said Cord...." thank gawd"
"meow" said bubba. "Rawbawt mah asst"
"That was smart thinking" said DT in Cords head.
Cord jumped a foot...startled  "What?  Is that you DT?"
"Of course it is" said DT  " I'm not about to lose track of my investment am I? “
Cord thought about THAT as they rode to the Park.  Then he shook it off.  Mental telepathy, especially at a distance, could come in real handy.
He  pulled the motorcycle up alongside the park and watched the pretty girls play for a little bit....actually he watched  the pretty girls  that were watching the pretty boys that were playing with their dogs.

Frisbee.  Dogs. No Cats.
Small(ish) dogs usually.  Border collies and Blue Heelers.  They LOVED to play Frisbee.  Also some labs, and a cocker spaniel or two.  Bubba was larger than the cocker spaniel.
Cord parked the bike...set the kick stand and got off... and turned around to see Bubba standing on the ground…. holding a big, black rubber Frisbee.
Cord looked at Bubba and Bubba looked at Cord.  Cord muttered, sub-vocally, as he took the Frisbee from Bubba.
<DT...are you there?> and the reply came through Cord's temporal implant... <I'm here>
Bubba and Cord are still looking at each other...Cord mutters...< All right guys...let’s put on a show...let’s impress the Hell out of the locals. DT...are you ready?>

Cord hefts the Frisbee a little… as if getting it's balance...
<I'm ready> says DT..
"Well ALRIGHTY THEN!!!" Cord Shouts as he swings his arm in a great arc and releases the Frisbee, under hand,  at about knee level.  The Frisbee streaks away at about about two hundred miles per hour (it wasn’t really going anywhere near that fast) at about a  two foot altitude,  while flashing odd lights and making a strange warbling sound.

Bubba was hot in its wake...howling like a banshee.  The Frisbee turns skyward and goes straight up...Bubba follows making a fantastic leap snapping and clawing at the  ten or FIFTEEN  feet of altitude...he....misses.
The Frisbee loops...and comes at Bubba obliquely...while Bubba is still in the air... Bubba  twists...the Frisbee sails between his legs but Bubba snaps his jaws and captures the Frisbee in midair.  Doing an effortless back flip Bubba lands on the ground then trots. (ever see a CAT trot?) With his tail flagpole erect... to Cord and lays the Frisbee at his feet.

The gathering crowd gapes.  They are so amazed that their jaws, literally, hang open.  They drool.
Cord picks up the Frisbee and does it again....and again...and again. Each throw being a  variation on the same theme.
For an hour or so Cord throws the Frisbee.  Bubba is insatiable.  Bubba is doing ten times, a hundred times the work of Cord and wearing Cord slap OUT.  Not to mention drawing a crowd of gleeful, happy, enthusiastic watchers. Bubba shows off and mugs for the does Cord.

The crowd eats it up. With a SPOON.  They cheer wildly.
Finally Cord can do no more...he calls it quits.
"That's it Bubba.(pant, Pant) ...let's go back (pant) to the truck"...
Bubba picks up the Frisbee and trots over to Cord...tail held high...and hands him the Frisbee, then jumps onto the back of the bike...almost overturning it.
"Whoa there Partner" says Cord...steadying the bike, and stowing the Frisbee.  Cord Kick Starts the bike (what?  you think they'd have a sissy electric starter?) , slides into the saddle and away they applause, hoots and whistles from the  swollen crowd.

On the way back Cord takes a meandering route.  He goes hither and yon according to a heads-up guideline that DT is projecting over his vision.  Every so often...not noticed by anyone other than Bubba...a small golf ball sized drone is ejected from the launch tube, which is part of the sissy bar on the rear of the bike.  The drone goes off who-knows-where and Cord continues on.
They do this for several days...they hit all the parks and are pretty much blanketing most of Youngstown and surrounding areas. A man on a powerful motorcycle can cover an amazing amount of territory in a short period of time.