During the winter, I tried to listen to the radio. It was one of those crank-type radios that you could get around the turn of the century (the 21st) during the Y2K scare, which didn't amount to a hill of beans. You give it some cranks, and it was good for a half-hour of trying to find a radio station.
I listened to a few news reports: they were mostly the same. Reports of homeless, starvation, disease, some attempts at recovery, but most of those didn't take. It was like the big depression of the 1930's, but worse. There were more people now, more hunger, more problems than then. Even with all the deaths (winter was not kind to many cities, from what reports I could get), there was still going to be a long recovery.
In April, I decided to take a field trip to Georgetown. It's about 45 miles away from the cabin, over some twisty roads. I spent some time getting my Honda bike ready for the trip. I had a supply of gas and oil, and did a tune up of the bike so that it ran well. It was in good shape to begin with; it didn't have very many miles on it. Since the problem, I had started it up once a month, after making careful checks of the oil and gas. I had treated the gas with a gasoline stabilizer, and made sure that there wasn't any condensation in the gas tank that might have caused rust. I put fresh gas in it anyway, along with a gas additive to dry out any water that might be in the gas.
I packed my backpack carefully. Basic supplies, some dried meat (I make some pretty good jerky now), fresh water. And my rifle and gun. I had made a rifle holder, which I mounted to the bike (just like in the old TV westerns). I had a full load in the rifle and gun, along with spare ammunition. I set up an old milk crate on the back of the cycle seat, along with some spare bungee cords and a couple of twenty-five foot lengths of nylon rope.
The bike was pretty quiet, not like the sound of a Harley running down the road. I had bought that particular model for its power and it's quietness. I was curious about what I would find out there, and I wanted to make sure that I had a quick way out of any trouble that I might find. The speed of the bike, along with the power of my guns, would help me stay safe. I hoped.
I was ready for my field trip. I was pretty familiar with the area; I knew all of the roads around here. I planned to head down into Foresthill, but I'd approach it carefully. No sense barging in without scouting it out carefully. I had a good pair of binoculars in my backpack, and a map of the area.
I was ready to go.