I am still balking about the bedliner for the SuperDuty, continuing to spend too much time last night thinking about cost of building my new rig which will only last a set period of time, soon enough to be worn out but much enjoyed in the mean time.
This morning I will call ADK Off-Road to see if they can do the bedliner for Old Smokey. 🛻 Just needs to get done by the end of May, so I’m hopeful they can do it. I checked out the reviews, and it looks like they do a good job prepping the bed, masking off and removing hardware and screws, and putting a good durable coat on that should last for the lifetime of the truck. I do get nervous about them doing so much surgery on a $60,000 brand new truck, but from what I’ve read and heard about them, it seems like the Patriot Liner is a quality product. My last truck had Bullet Liner from Capital Protective Coatings but unfortunately they aren’t doing it anymore. It’s a cost but it needs to be done before the cap is installed. If not there is another shop that does Onyx or Zeibert does RhinoLiner but nobody likes RhinoLiner and the reviews for Zeibert suck.
The other day, I noticed my front tire was on backwards on the bike, 🚲 so I pulled it and reversed it this morning, though once again I had issues setting the bead on the tire, but at least this time I didn’t blow the tube in the process, though I had to remount it twice. Also topped off the rear tire, the patched tube on the new tire has been fine but I do want to get another tube at Walmart as I like to keep a new spare on the bike and a new spare at home, even if I do run patched tubes whenever necessary. I also bled and topped off the front brake fluid as the front brakes were very soft, always have issues with the brakes in the winter, as the cold weather causes the fluid to slip around the pads and gets air past the pads. Maybe I need new pads in front again, but I think it’s more that I had air bubbles in the line from the cold and salt of winter.
Riding in this morning, hopefully beating the rain. ☔ I’ll bring my rain coat. Should be a decent afternoon, and just going short sleeved to work today being a Friday and non-session day. Cornmeal pancakes 🥞 with shredded onions and spinach and some oatmeal and whole-wheat flour to make rounded meal. 😋 Too much coffee, ☕ and certainly more when I get to work, iced, as the banana peanut butter 🍌 coffee that is the flavor of the month at work is pretty awesome. Iced is great this time of year too even if I concede all that sugar and cream ain’t the most healthy. 🫃🏻 But I’m riding my bike to work to burn some calories. 😂
Last night I did the Save the Pine Bush planning zoom 📹 from the Noonan Preserve along the rail trail and saw a bald eagle 🦅 as I was looking out over the Norman’s Kill. It was pretty cool. Tomorrow morning, I want to visit the Pine Hollow Arboretum to see more signs of spring, 🌸 then the afternoon is Mom and Dad’s anniversary party in Coeymans, which I plan to follow by hiking back to Hannacroix Falls and then a hike to Coeymans Creek 🐦 at the WMA on NY 144 to see what wildlife and spring signs I can see there. Should be a nice weekend, more rain is expected for Sunday. It guess it help green things up a lot. 🌷 Cool to start next week but not real cold. Won’t need the heat. I was very happy to see last month’s electric and gas bill was only $68. That’s a true sign winter is coming to a close. Need the money for all my toys with the SuperDuty, that eats everything in my cash pocket, gas included. ⛽
This evening, I found myself reclining in the bed of my SuperDuty, buffered from the cold steel by a salvaged rubber mat. Above me, the stars shifted behind the flickering warning of a distant thunderstorm, a quiet backdrop to the mental inventory of a life in transition. As I sat there playing with the bed lights, the reality of my next big chore loomed: the spray-in bedliner. It is a biting, begrudged expense—essentially “pissing money down a tube”—yet it is the final tax on a dream of durability.
There is a common modern delusion that vehicles are assets to be managed for depreciation. In reality, a truck is pure consumption, a machine destined for a landfill in fifteen years. But it is a consumption with a noble purpose. We don’t buy these machines to preserve value; we buy them to reach the vast, unpaved spaces of America that a bus or a bike simply cannot touch. This truck is the entry fee for a decade and a half of dirt roads, scenic vistas, and small towns that smell of paper plants and dairies.
The financial sting of the SuperDuty is real—writing a cash check for a heavy-duty rig leaves a visible dent in any net worth calculation. Between the recent market volatility of the Iran War and the looming costs of the camper shell and electrical gear, the “pain of price” is a constant companion. Yet, as the markets recover and the truck stands largely paid off, that pain is beginning to fade into the background. In a few months, the cost will be a mere blip on the radar, a necessary hurdle on the path toward a larger goal.
That goal is a simple, off-grid retirement. I look at this truck and I see the bridge to my next chapter. It is the tool that will carry me until I file for my state retirement in fourteen years, when I finally trade my rundown apartment for a cabin in the wilderness. While I still have the physical strength to homestead, I want a life away from the commercialism and the reach of government workers—a place for fires, livestock, guns, and no utility bills.
Some people look at my income and suggest a different path: a plastic house in the suburbs and a sensible, aging sedan. They prioritize the appearance of wealth and the safety of the status quo. I prefer my current trade-off. I’ll keep the modest apartment and the “expensive” truck because they offer something suburban life never could: immediate access to the wild. I don’t have the off-grid cabin yet, but with this SuperDuty, I have the next fifteen years of weekends spent living that future in the present.
