Bear Claw Chris Lapp: “You’ve come far, pilgrim.”
from “Jeremiah Johnson” (1972)
Jeremiah Johnson: “Feels like far.”
I sat at the picnic table at the usual time this morning, drinking coffee, plotting my Thursday. The birds that serenade and harass me daily, as well as the squirrels, were strangely quiet. There was plenty of seed in our feeders, but no activity.
I heard it before I saw it — a sharp screeeee overhead, passing south-to-north against the grayish sky. A female red-shouldered hawk was on the hunt, and the small creatures were keeping a low profile ’til she moved on.
I can understand that.
Before I begin my next project in the cabin, I’ll have to make a substantial lumber run. It won’t be today, as I wait to see how much rain Francine thinks we deserve. Tomorrow’s forecast doesn’t look promising, either, so it may be Saturday by the time I bring Home a truckload of two-bys.
I had a pretty good idea of how I’d occupy myself today, though.
Our five-year-old Polaris Ranger 570 has been virtually trouble-free since we bought it in December of 2021. All I’ve done is replace the battery and change the oil. While I had it out yesterday, however, it gave me cause for concern — twice it stalled without warning, once on the way down our road and again on the way back up.
This morning I pulled it out of the shed, gave it a shot of SeaFoam (great stuff, couldn’t hurt), and ran it down to the subdivision road and back. It stalled three times.
I also noticed that the backlighting on the dashboard gauges flickered at idle. That, and the sudden nature of the stalling — no stumble, just an abrupt shutdown — had me suspecting that I was looking at an electrical problem.
A little InterWeb sleuthing uncovered a way to display internal failure codes on the dash whenever the “check engine” light is on. First I had to replicate the symptom and trigger the idiot light, which I did. And five times, I got the code “0 1268 3,” indicating “ignition coil short.”
It could be the coil itself, the wiring, the voltage regulator, or the (very expensive) ECM. Repairs, even if I did the work myself, could run as much as $750.
I took a deep breath, walked away from it and did a little more digging.
Eventually I stumbled across a post in a Polaris Ranger forum, describing a case in which failure code 1268 was traced to a bad battery. I found another account from a guy who fixed his 1268 by tightening a loose battery cable.
Could it be that easy? I had to at least entertain the possibility. Securing a wiggly battery cable banished an electrical gremlin from the Wrangler recently.
I went back to the Ranger, popped the seat and checked — the positive cable was fine, but the negative might’ve been a little loose. (I could move it side-to-side with my hand.) I tightened both. Following the negative cable down to the frame, I removed it, cleaned up the ground and reattached it.
And then I took the buggy for a drive.
The dash lights no longer flickered. The engine didn’t quit.
I stopped several times to cut back branches intruding from our side of the road, leaving the Ranger idling while I worked. No issues.
Call it a UTV, side-by-side or whatever, we’ve come to rely on this Ranger. For us, it’s The Indispensable Tool. It’d be great if turning a few screws was all it took to keep it in reliable service.
I’ll let you know.
Bear Claw Chris Lapp: “Were it worth the trouble?”
from “Jeremiah Johnson” (1972)
Jeremiah Johnson: “Hah — what trouble?”
The whole social media thing gives us a window on lives and events unprecedented in human history, making us demigodlike in our omniscience compared to our ancestors. Contrary to what we hear from the pearl-clutching, evils-of-the-Internet crowd, that’s not a bad thing.
I get to watch hundreds of friends (virtual and otherwise) deal with failure and success, joy and grief, parenthood and grandparenthood, infirmity and vitality. I see what they like to eat and where they prefer to vacation. I learn what they consider “humor.”
And yeah, I find out about their politics.
At this stage of Life, I pay particular attention to how my contemporaries live their “golden years,” their final chapters, their last act. Some continue to work, but most retire to a life of relative ease. A handful are snowbirds; a few are globetrotters.
I see regret as often as I see contentment. I’m inspired by the creativity of ordinary people. I bear witness to incredible bravery under the most difficult of circumstances.
If I had the chance, I’d ask each of my aging friends two questions:
“Are you where you belong?”
“Was it (or is it) worth it?”
I ask those questions of myself. Every day.
There’s no denying that I’m charting a different course than most. The Life I’ve chosen, with Deb by my side, is more difficult, more physically taxing, and more practically challenging than anything else I’ve ever done — and I’ve taken it up right when my abilities and capacities naturally are on the wane.
And I ask myself — Am I where I belong? Is it worth it?
Yes to both.
Life is hard at times. But Life is good all the time.
This is where I was always meant to be, doing what I was always meant to do. It’s worth every penny and every pain.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable
#LetsGoBrandon #FJB
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