The Macro Event. Andrew Adams

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СКАЧАТЬ approached the town, Lee spotted the familiar steeple of a Mormon Church ahead, and after telling Jake on the radio, they rode toward it. Like the fire station in Goodsprings, this place also had refugees milling around although fewer because of its isolated location. It appeared the Mormons were the ones setting up the camp here, and again, like the Pioneer Saloon, tents, cots, and chairs abounded. Someone was using a barbecue to cook up what looked like beef, and people were lining up with paper plates for their turn at the food.

      Lee pulled up first, followed closely by Jake, and they both got off and parked the bikes against the building. Then they started asking around for Joel, but he walked up and found them first.

      “You guys must be Lee and Jake?” a medium-height balding middle-aged man said as he approached.

      “We are. Are you Joel?” replied Jake.

      “Yep, that’s me. So are you the two nuts from Vegas planning to ride bikes to Irwin?” asked Joel.

      “Well, unless a yellow cab pulls up looking for fares, I guess that is our only choice,” Lee chimed in.

      All three men laughed at Lee’s comment and shared handshakes.

      Joel then said, “It is too bad that Lucy left for Irwin. She couldn’t find anyone to go with her. She was driving one of those four-seat VW power dune buggies. You guys could have ridden with her. I can tell you that sure would have made me feel a whole lot better. Having that stubborn woman heading out on her own has me worried. I did all I could to talk her out of it, but she insisted that Rick would be stuck at Irwin, and she wanted to be with him. She is a Class A gutsy woman.”

      “Yeah, our experiences so far have not been great. I hope she stays alert and safe,” Jake said.

      To which Lee added, “That’s an understatement.”

      “She is tough,” said Joel. “At least she is packing. She took along a 1911 forty-five. She also took along some supplies. I just hope that old buggy gets her there.”

      “Well, we are heading the same way, but it sure would be nice to be driving versus riding these motorless mopeds,” Lee said, pointing at the mountain bikes.

      “Well, we will be in good shape after riding to Irwin across the mountains,” added Jake. “I just wish they had some kind of rack to hold our bags. Our shoulders will be a blistered mess when we get to Irwin. And Lee’s bag is a lot heavier than mine,” he said as he pointed at the two bags sitting next to the bikes.

      “Well, at least my bag has decent shoulder straps and a good lap belt,” Lee said as he rubbed his shoulders and then pulled back his shirt to see the condition of the skin. “Not blistered yet.”

      Joel then said, “You know, these Mormons have an entire bike shop in the back. They have a bunch of mountain bikes the missionaries have used over the years. Let’s ask if they have any racks or baskets.”

      Joel turned and looked around, obviously trying to spot someone in the group of people milling around. He spotted the person he was looking for and started that way. “Let me see what I can do.”

      Joel came back in a couple of minutes with a tall skinny guy about forty years old, who was wearing a white shirt and one of those Mormon name badges. Joel introduced him to Lee and Jake as “Brother Walker.”

      “You gents can call me Johnnie,” said Brother Walker.

      Jake and I looked at each other, trying not to look amused.

      Obviously use to this response about his name, Johnnie said, “I know, I know, a Mormon named Johnnie Walker is an oxymoron name, but it might be what keeps me a good tea drinker.”

      Everyone laughed.

      The men shook hands, and after a minute or two of discussion about Lee and Jake’s ride from Vegas and their plan to head to Irwin, Brother Walker addressed the two new friends’ concern. “Let’s go see what we can find in the back. I think we might have something that will make your travels a little easier, but let’s see what your tire sizes are first.”

      Brother Walker knelt down and read off the sizes of the tires to us. “Well, thankfully, they are both the same size. That makes it easier to have spare tubes.”

      Johnnie led Lee and Jake around the church to a rear storage shed and opened it. It was full of bikes of all conditions plus various parts and pieces. Johnnie walked inside, pulled a two-wheel cart from behind bikes in the corner, and manhandled it to the door. He also handed Jake two new tubes in boxes and two bottles of green slime tire sealant. He looked around for a moment, and he found a little tool kit and air pump, which he brought out with him.

      Lee and Jake looked at the cart design and determined it should attach to the rear axle bolts of a bike. With the cart, tools, and parts, the three men returned to their bikes in front of the church. Johnnie explained how to attach the trailer to Lee and Jake, and the two took to installing it, which took no time at all. The parts and hardware needed to attach the cart was in a ziplocked bag taped to the cart. Both bikes were similar, so it made no difference on which bike they installed the cart. They discussed putting the heavy stuff in the cart to lighten up their backpacks and the strain on their shoulders.

      While Lee and Jake fixed up the bike and stowed their gear, Johnnie came back and suggested then men “chow down” before leaving. Some of the Mormon volunteers were cooking chicken plus various side dishes. He explained that with the power out, they were going to use up their frozen stuff first as they did not want to rely on the single small gasoline generator that was running. Johnny explained to Lee and Jake the church had recently installed a large diesel generator, but it would not run since the EMP.

      Lee asked, “Can I take a look at it?”

      Johnny said, “Sure, that would be great. Follow me.”

      The generator was a new diesel generator. Johnnie opened the access panels, and Lee started to look it over. They could all smell a burned odor coming from the control panel compartment.

      “It smells just like the inside of my car in Vegas,” Lee said.

      “The panel is dead, and it does nothing,” said Johnnie.

      Lee finished looking over the generator, and he turned to the men. “Lucky it is an older type Kubota diesel with a mechanical injector pump, unlike some newer technology with electronic fuel injection. Mechanical injection does not need much to run. All you need to do is get it turning over and give it fuel.”

      “Why do you think it is dead then?” Johnnie asked.

      “Well, they probably added this electronic panel to control the fuel solenoid and even the starter motor. It probably controls the glow plugs, and likely it’s tied into the oil pressure and temperature. If it is cold outside, the electronics activate glow plugs before cranking over the engine. If the engine overheats, the electronics shut down the motor to prevent destruction. My guess is the electronic board was fried from the EMP, but I doubt the engine or the starter motor is bad,” Lee said.

      “It is well beyond me,” answered Johnnie.

      “Me too,” said Jake.

      Lee then asked, “Do you have any small jumper wires? You know, the ones with alligator clips on them?”

      “I don’t think so,” said СКАЧАТЬ