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Les Schwab Tires is a pretty great company, they do free repairs… apparently, even if you didn’t buy your tires there. They’ve fixed a couple of flats for me but their techs keep looking at my tires and asking what the spoony heck I’m doing to them?!

Note the chunks of rubber missing. There’s also a weird scrub texture that’s visible when the tire is clean (when does this even happen aside from 30 seconds after exiting the car wash?)

You can see the wear indicator bars at right. Amazingly this tire has survived to almost its end of normal life.

A fresh new scrub mark. The camera decided to white balance on the very red dust.

So to answer the question of what I’m doing to them, enjoy this shitty moonscape.

This was always a rocky mess, but in places it got worse as the Carr fire passing over shattered some of the rock and made it even more jagged and fugly.

Here’s one of the worst burned areas on the approach to the summit. Whereas some green foliage is appearing in less damaged areas, this remains totally dead. It’ll be interesting to see what pops up again here in the fall when the first rains come down (and how much of this area suffers landslides).

Only in dreams….

The night before last, I had a weird nightmare that the PTek transmitters I have at work right now kept ejecting vital components out the back vents.

Last night I had a dream where what I remember of it was petting a cat and small dog who both had beautiful Bengal cat markings. They both fell asleep all blissfully happy. Later I learned that they shared the role of CEO of some enormous corporation and their secretary mailed me a thank you note that was packed along with a clay tile they’d both left me paw prints in.

Fuck you.

It sadly came to our attention when our station staff started getting turned away at road blocks that some steaming pile of cat shit was using fake media passes to enter evacuation zones. Now the National Guard troops have been instructed to look for official passes….. which haven’t been distributed.

Whoever you are, fuck you. I hope you get a deep tissue massage with the business end of a Mercury 250 horsepower outboard motor running full throttle.