We had snowmachines when we were kids in the 70s, there was snow and ice and mild temperatures for about 8 months of the year, and we were ten and eleven years old and we had a lot more mobility than anybody in history before us.
That means kids with horses in history never had the power or torque to haul ass in the winter, and you…., would see what we were doing as hyper aggressive, and potentially violent, but we were riding from the time we were six years old, so going sixty or seventy miles per hour was normal, we could talk, and play, going fifty, when we were ten.
The other kids were jealous and envious when their parents woud not give them snowmachines.
We were sort of “advanced”, and then they, went to “war”, against advanced.
We knew our terrain, so we felt secure.
The other kids did not know their terrain, so they felt insecure.
They were not fighting us, they were fighting, their own, ineptitude.
It was not an experiment, it was a fact.
When I would take some other kid for a ride out on the trails, the kid would see that there were no “bad guys ” like the Russians, or Japanese or the LA gangsters sneaking up on our town.
The other kids needed to stay really clost to home, and we, had a five mile range , and sometimes we could go out on ten or twenty mile trips away from the highway, and feel secure that the snowmachines would get us home.
The jealousy and envy the other kids had, developed into their careers.
They got divorced a lot, all they wanted, really, was what I had, when I was ten.
They never developed the personal discipline,to have nice things like boats or snowmachines
or airplanes, when their society wanted to claim that they could test a person with a
psychology test and see if they were ready for the machine.
In real life…, I got my first Helmet when I was six, that means my discipline came from
crashing and feeling KINETIC energy and that hurt.
So I learned that the throttle, of any machine, could get me hurt and that was where
the discipline was.Traction and thrust, steering and brakes, never mental shit like psychology.
You gotta be moving, first, and then the psychology, is a last second decision.
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Psychology is light speed spontaneous, never, pre – formatted.
You need to be holding totally still, not working, to analyze that statement, and that immobility, will make you a sitting duck.
When you are busy…,in a trance analyzing psychology…, a snowmachine or motorcycle can herd you like livesock.
Don’t forget psychology is only, for people who have had their instincts repressed during puberty…
They are forced to “associate punishent with civilian alliance” during their formative years when their frontal lobes are developing and they are not ready to bypass the tyrants that are repressing them
I learned everything about working and reality and hyper advanced machines and proper applications of that technology within the boundaries ofthe community, before, I was worried abut what the friggin girls would think, or say, or do.
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We had discipline that came from breaking down and getting stuck and needing to co – operate, and we were not exactly all that innocent, but there was no other kids, and if there were other kids our age with sowmachines riding with us, the status in our group was based on emotional control at high speed with a lot of power on a machine that could be a lethal weapon and you could get hurt really bad if you fell off the thing or crashed.
The other kid’s parents would tell their kids, that the woods around our town was teeming with perverts who wanted to make nasty sex videos with them and, nasty russians that wanted to convert kids to Communism.
No Im not kidding.
The woods was teeming with rabbits and squirrels, and not a russian, for eight thousand miles.
And when I would take a kid out on a snowmachine, they would almost never trust their parents, or a school teacher, ever again, the rest of their lives.
The world out there in the woods was awesome, and we would get out there and park , with some friends, and it was the most distance they had ever had between therir parents and themselves, in their lives.
Most kids had never been a mile, or three miles, from parents or authorities in their lives.
We would prove to those kids, that the world would not end, if young kids spent a few hours five miles from a parent or the road corridonr, or other monitoring and supervision.
That totally wiped out the credibility of almost everything the parents and teachers and preachers were telling kids…, about why the kids needed to stay within a hundred feet of mommy until they were 18.
The kids would freak out and get giddy, they would think that if you were that far away… from parents or preachers, it was like a law of nature that you would do drugs or get drunk or have sex or do something stupid.
We would prove to them that we just talked, and rested, and walked around, and played, then we would get back on the snowmachines and ride to some new place.
Our riding area had no real trails, it was like, from wherever your machine was, you could go two hundred miles in any direction out from that location.
Sort of like Antarctica,only it looked a lot more like Maine or Colorado. It was vast, beyond huge, in an airplane, you could not get to the end of it in a day.
So the other kids parents had been repressed, they were not allowed to have sex when they were young, or smoke a joint, or drink a beer, or do anything, so if they had snowmachines, they really would have done something stupid….,, that is why Vegas is so popular.
The parents, really would have sone something stupid, if they had the freedom and technology we had all the time every day.Like college kids going wild on spring break.
They are repressed when EX – military veterans get stimulation from taking away the sex and pot and beer from worker units in their human resources division, and then repressing people so they are always on the verge of misery, so then any reward looks good.
Also our dad and his friends had airplanes, so we could go out and look at our trails before we would go out riding on them. We got so we could tell good snow from bumpy snow from the air.
The other kids with machines were normally uptight arrogant jerks, they had to have cute hair and act like good little christians, and they were schitzophrenic.
They were schitzo, In real life…, it was just me, and my brother, and the other kid, and the other kid would “pretend” somebody could “see him”, or like somebody was watching.
There was nobody out there except us.
That matters.
That, is what ripped this country into small chunks.
It was a rule, if we were out riding, that we damn well better know if anybody was watching or not or if they could rescue us or not.
Like any little kid, we all had that ONE DAY,, when we were little kids what we would get hurt, and scream and cry…, and nobody…., would run and take care of us, and pamper us.
That moment happens to everybody, they gotta learn to take care of themselves, and then they get so they like it better that way.
Disrupting that or creating the illusion that a man can not or will not take care of himself, was the big project of a lot of mean little girls around here for decades.
Nobody would trust them with a cake blender, much less a snowmachine.
They would always , try to make a fool out of any boy, or anybody , to cover up for their own inepetitude and insecurity.
Why should she have ethics, when she has big boobs when she is eleven?
So my brother and me got that idea right by the time we were about six or seven years old.
We could get stuck on a snowmachine, and there simply was not any – way, anybody could rescue us, or know that we would like some pity and attention.
So the other kids in my generation, designed their world so there would always be somebody there to hear them or feel sorry fo them, if they got hurt.
They wanted somebody there…, to take care of them and pamper them.
When the other kids would get out of town on a snowmachine, the one thing they hated more than anything , was that they would need to get along with me, or they might end up walking home.
If they got in a fight or argumetnt with me, their parents would not allow them to go out snowmachining any more.
I was too good at it, I could drive you up the wall with a snowmachine if you messed with me.
My brother is a year younger but he was like a twin, so there was always somebody to practice with, both of us hauling ass and driving each other crazy trying to get past each other.
There was no…, older kid /younger kid…, division of authority, or labor, with my brother and me.
( I could and would sometimes do that, if my little brother got out of line, but I did have to catch him first…, and that could be prety hard when he was one of the best riders I had ever seen, our best trick, was not speed, or anything loud, it was to stop, and turn off the headlights in the dark, and there was no way to find a guy who was hiding like that.)
It was all about skill and grace and finesse on the machine and emotional control and thinking ahead , with our goal, being that we would never need to ask our Dad for help with anything.
Almost nobody knows the words “grace” or “Gentleman” anymore.
The little spoiled brats who wore the “cool shoes, and stayed about ten feet from their mommys, got the jobs, and me and my brother didn’t get anything.
Then those skeezebag assholes will tell you I am lazy.
When we would get out of town, riding with other kids…, there was a point those kids would have a choice, to keep going, and explore new areas where maybe no other human had ever been before, or they could go back to town and be chicken thieves ,stealing stuff from the locals.
Most of them wanted to turn around and go back toward the road corridor.
There is a lot more to the snowmachine thing, and most of it is pretty cool .
My life did not revolve around boobies when I was 12 years old.
Girls needed to have good winter gear, helmets, and the courage to go pee outside.
And the girls needed to start riding a machine when they were about six years old, and learn that nobody cares, if you get stuck or crash, you just gotta stop punishng the boys for that and get your shit together and get the machine running and don’t expect to start taking your clothes off outside, to get some boy to notice your boobies, so he will help you.
Think about psychology it was invented in a place where it was warm.
Psychology might work in southern California, but in Alaska it is totally useless.
