There is a strange, quiet tension in owning a big ol’ F-350 SuperDuty. For two weeks, mine has sat in the driveway, an expensive monument to potential. I find myself avoiding the driver’s seat, almost as if I’m trying to freeze time and keep the truck “new” in my mind for just a little longer. It even smells of the assembly line—a sharp, chemical reminder of the industrial manufacturing process that birthed this beast.
When I look at it, I don’t just see a vehicle; I see the weight of it. I think about the gallons of fuel it thirstily consumes and the heavy footprint it leaves on an already cooking planet. Then there’s the reality of the road: the aggressive enforcement waiting behind highway medians and the distracted motorists, eyes glued to phones, ready to collide with my pristine investment. In the city, a bicycle, a pair of boots, or a bus pass feels more honest. They are lighter, kinder ways to move through the world.
But a truck isn’t meant to be a driveway ornament, and I didn’t spend this kind of money just to admire the paint job. There is a conflict there—the guilt of burning expensive gasoline for no reason versus the desire to use the tool I paid for. I refuse to waste it on pointless trips to Walmart or aimless loops around town. That’s not what this machine is for.
I’m waiting. I’m waiting for the camper shell to arrive and for the spring sun to bake the mud off the back country roads. That is the SuperDuty’s true North: the remote country, the places where the pavement ends and the air is clear.
Ultimately, I have to remind myself not to let fear steal the experience. It’s mine, it’s paid for, and these days are fleeting. I’ll drive it when the destination deserves the journey, because in the blink of an eye, the truck will be gone, a victim of time, miles and rust.
Heading out to the Pine Hollow Arboretum in a bit to see the spring time flowers, then I plan to drive to Coeymans for a walk in Coeymans Preserve and my parents anniversary party then I’m thinking of hiking back to Hannacroix Falls, then heading over to Lowe’s to get longer mounting bolts for the CB radio and then grocery shopping at Wally’s World and home by dark. It’s fun to drive the big SuperDuty.
Definately want to get out and enjoy the beautiful weather 🌷 before the rain and cooler weather come tomorrow. Last night I was at Five Rivers for a couple of hours, reading, and then going for a little walk before heading home and making up a big pan of eggs 🍳 and veggies. Nice evening, a lot more people then I expected at Five Rivers but at least the bike trail wasn’t quite so congested.
I am feeling a lot better about the SuperDuty since the markets recovered. 🛻 While the truck wasn’t free by any means, when you consider the market recovery this past week, my tax refunds and contributions since mid-January, my net worth remains the same today as it was in mid-January. Crazy to think that but I checked my math, and yeah, the market value increase basically wiped out the cost of the SuperDuty, ignoring of course Capital Gains taxes and shit like that. 💩 And I know that money ain’t real, as nothing has any value except cash until you sell it and something is willing to pay what you’re asking.
So I guess you could say I got that SuperDuty for free, 🆓 or at least it won’t have any real financial impact on my future or retirement or that off-grid cabin with the grunting hogs that smells like burning barrel at times. 🛢️ And hopefully 🤞 it will last until then or about 14-15 years, which is 2040 for those not counting. By this time next weekend, I will have the bedliner in the truck, and I’m now just waiting for truck cap to be ready for installation, 💵 hand over one more big check for the cap as Ruth’s doesn’t take credit cards without a big processing fee, and move the batteries and equipment over to the next rig. Not sure if everything will be ready for Memorial Day Weekend, but whatever that weekend is often so buggy, hot, humid and just sucky in wilderness. 🇺🇸 Juneteenth Weekend is really the weekend I’m planning to break in the new rig with. I am looking at probably August to do my trip to Michigan in the SuperDuty assuming gas prices ⛽ aren’t as insane as I am.
I know everybody says just buy a plastic house in suburbs 🏡 and a 25-year old Honda Civic to drive back and forth to office and shopping maul with acres of parking, and take a sharp knife and cut off you balls ⚽ but that really doesn’t sound like much fun. Honestly, I don’t feel that much like a poor, desprate individual with a SuperDuty who rides his mountain bike to work in suburbs, next to old city garbage dump and sewage treatment plant. I think I will have a fun for now, and when 2040 or 2041 buy or build that off-grid cabin. 🔥 In the mean time, just have a lot of fires in wilderness, smoke some grass and recycle ♻️ the plastics into carbon dioxide and take that occasional tin can 🥫 to transfer station once a year or so. Nobody cares if you don’t have a liberal internet troll up your ass. 🧌
I believe is the infamous campsite, which is located on the Sacandaga River near where Robb Creek runs into it. But regardless, it is a beautiful tent site on the river, a short driveway down from the Old Route 8B.
