Updated: Oct 22, 2020
If you haven't yet, take a moment to read about Stringer here where I outline how I came to know him, and how it is he came to send me this first piece of correspondence:
ATTN: Dr Kyril Mondragon
C/- REDACTED Address
Further redacted detail
Here is the story I promised you. Allow me a little introduction to it first though.
Back home in my shed I have a brimming box of broken indicators. All odd ones, not a matching set among them. Mostly they are cheap “sacrificial” indicators from ebay. Though occasionally I overestimate my skill and buy a nice set.
I’d like to tell you the collection is part of a hobby I pursue with great passion, that one day I will have one of every ‘cheap- arse’ indicator made, and behold then … all will bask in intermittent flashes of glory.
But what sounds like bullshit, oddly enough, generally is bullshit. And that sounds a hell of a lot like bullshit. But then, there it is written and so it must be true, or partly so, or not. Looking over at current affairs it seems to me like that truth stuff doesn’t even matter anymore. So, hmm … maybe none of this really didn’t happen (think on it... clever huh?).
Anyway, the theory I hold is that every eight years I’ll get to a point where the rotation of the earths my indicators will be such that all indicators on my ride will be of the same kind. A situation known internationally by me as ‘The Indicator Equinox’.
Of course, I am sorry to say, to reach such a benchmark some indicators must be sacrificed. Which brings me finally to this sad tale.
You see, sometimes fate moves too slow for the timely passing of the equinox. Sometimes I must go out and ‘force’ the issue. Undoubtedly by now you wonder how anyone with sensibilities as refined as yours truly could ever depart ungracefully from their trusty steed. But I assure you it does happen.
There are few things that can bring forward the passing of ‘The Indicator Equinox’ more efficiently than a combination of snow, torque, two wheels, and dual sport tyres. It is a troubling combination that I try avoid, and yet it is more often than not trouble will become mine anyway. So I ask you, why the hell not just ride straight out into it and see what happens?
And there I was upon such a foolish undertaking. The appearance of snow at first meant no more to me than to confirm the blistering cold. A message my nose passed most hastily to my clearly snap frozen brain whenever I reluctantly opened a fogging visor.
Should you require evidence of my frost-bitten brain I offer you the following: Because vision seemed to vastly improve with increased forward momentum, where I should have ceased, I instead accelerated - in both pace and false self-appreciation. I began to revel in my competency in this unforgiving landscape. Too much so. Indications of circumstances indicative of indicator sacrifice indicated the impending undoing, but of course I ignored them.
Finally, just as I was building a completely unwarranted amount of belief in my own prowess, I made a rather minor decision that had a rather major influence upon the relationship between my front and back wheels.
Now traditionally, when engaged in a passage of forward momentum, my back wheel has chosen to follow the front. Though after 34 years in such a fix I can understand why they may have tired of this status quo. Why shouldn’t the rear wheel go first?
Well, turns out there is quite a good reason. I found it out by dabbing the rear brake on a slippery slope of tarmac sorbet.
Somehow though, the planetary alignments had clearly viewed my venture somewhat favourably. I arose and walked, or at least made some movements not unlike walking.
Carefully, respectfully, I picked up the remnants of my shattered indicator and wrapped it in a ceremonial oil rag. A sacrifice had been made. I bowed my head. I rejoiced, for once again it was not me.
‘The Indicator Equinox’ was a day closer. A big day. A whole year of days, an entire lifetime, my own life in fact. Oh divine fate, accept thy indicator of questionable child labour and take not the child but the indicator itself. I will ride on.
Keep Your Mind on the Road