You haven't noticed but I have been having trouble getting going, my getup was gone... leaving me behind. But for no reason I have located, I was going to move a part to the gunsmith working on my favorite target rifle. I called him after nine, making sure I would be welcome with the part, dressed, shaved and put my teeth in... got on the Trusty Triumph and was off. I had made sure to take my camera (took no pictures) and was armed (anyone on a motorcycle is already dangerous). I had the part and paperwork for it.
I got lost, Kent is the Post Office of the address, but Covington, Washington is where I needed to be. I got refueled and found a map and decided that I could get there, I had a map now. Sure enough, I found a fine twisty road to get farther East then turned down the correct road, and turned into the drive way of his home/shop. He has such a lovely lot of firearms, being worked on. He had another Stevens with the need for an extractor like the one I had purchased, I gave him the number of the supplier that I bought it from so he could get another one (here in Washington State!). One complaint he had, wasn't the amount of work he was going through, it was the amount of guidance from goodness gracious government (most of which sat unopened on a stack out of the way). I did not suggest it was good of the government to supply fire starter (if they made it on real soft and flimsy stuff - he might not need to buy toilet paper). But I know, he has too much work to stop and read more regulations that he might not understand - or won't improve his craftsmanship. He is proudly Italian, now American, I would (if I were the NRA or supporter of more guns for citizens in America) reach out to the gunsmiths in Europe, if they were willing to set up shop here. There is a need. Now, if you are a smart young person, wanting to be in business for yourself - you should look into this fine profession, we aren't giving up our guns, and they do wear out and break. If you are thinking of the hot sexy, and all the fun shooting full auto and piles of cash that one sees on television - go become a lawyer or a banker.
Back on the motorcycle, and down the road to Highway 18, Federal Way, Dash Point Road (lovely twisty turns and views) Tacoma, the Main Library of TPL, and then back home. To find what I had forgotten in my excitement of the leaving. I forgot any key to open the Caravan, or the house... I am so old. But I was at the correct house, and looked it over carefully, searched all my pockets - AGAIN. Still no key, no hurry, so I don't break open the front door, there were two ways in that my wife (the Home Fires Security Matron) hadn't secured. The old Earl rose to the challenge and I was in... I may be absent minded, fat and faint of heart - but I had a dark past almost professionally going to Hell. I don't recommend it, except you seek the light when it gets really dark. Better to live in the Light... still, I could have waited for the Security Matron and slept away the afternoon, or gotten back on the Trusty Triumph and tooled up Mount Rainier - looking so cool and solid in the Sunshine.
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