The Unbearable Lightness of Bacon

That's the title of a recent post by a blogger who identifies himself only as Big Tobacco. He is an infantry platoon sergeant in the new Jersey Army national Guard and is currently training for deployment to Iraq. Today's post was about continuing the mission with pepper spray in your eyes. He did on about the last night before deployment with everyone sleeping on a drill hall floor with wives and families making last goodbyes. Great stuff!!

California Friendliness

When the tire blew out I was riding in a straight line and down from 45 mph to about 20 mph. I got the bike stopped and pulled off the road to see if I could fix the tire. The sidewall had blown out. Within a couple of minutes another rider who was doing repeats up the Palomar Mountain stopped to see if he could help. We tried but 3 inches of the bead was separated from the tire. It blew out as soon as we aired it up. So this very nice guy, Michael Callahan, said he had one more hill repeat to do but if I did not get a ride in about an hour, text him and he would pick me up and take me to my car. He also knew the owner of Holland Bikes, Tyler, and said he would call and let Tyler know what happened to me.

Five minutes after Michael rolled down the hill, Rick Clemson, owner of Rick Clemson Sport Photography, stopped and picked me up. The bike wouldn't fit so we stashed it in the woods and he drove me the 12 miles back to my car. http://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gif Rick was on the mountain shooting picture of motorcycles making knee-dragging turns through the hairpins on Palomar so he took an hour out of his work to pick me up.

When I got back to Holland Bicycles, Tyler fixed the wheel and I rode 20 miles along the beach road in Coronado then turned in the bike. Tyler asked me how many days I rode the bike without trouble. I said one and he charged me for one day's rental rather than one week.

Maybe living in Paradise makes people nicer, but I don't think I would have had the same experience east of the Rockies.

Bike Rental Blow Out

One of the best things about my trip to San Diego was the chance to ride Palomar Mountain. The day after I arrived, rented a bike at Hollands Bicycles of Coronado. The plan was to ride an hour to two each evening, then after the show closed ride up the mountain on Saturday. The first day worked great. On Tuesday evening I rode 22 miles along the shore north to La Jolla and back. The next night rode inland. I got about 10 miles out and broke a front-wheel spoke. As soon as a spoke breaks, the wheel starts rubbing. In this case the wheel was rubbing the fork and the brakes. I got a good workout riding home. The next day I was in LA so I could not get the bike fixed or ride. Friday afternoon I took the bike to the shop. They replaced the spoke and I decided to ride up Palomar a day early. Four miles up the 12-mile climb a rear spoke broke. I rolled back down the hill and drove all the way back to San Diego to get the wheel fixed. Tyler, the owner put a different wheel with a new tire so I would have no hassles for the Saturday climb. The climb went great. I was 20 minutes slower (2 hours and five minutes) than when I climbed the mountain three years ago, but I was riding a lot more then.
At the top I ate at Mother's Kitchen--a vegetarian restaurant at the top of the mountain where both bicyclists and motorcyclists hang out. The glass-smooth road up Palomar with 21 switchbacks and some very fast esses draws motorcyclists from all over Southern California. In fact, my entertainment while slogging up that 8% grade at 5mph (it ascends 4600 feet from the valley floor) is listening to the motorcycles rip up the straights and knife through the turns--the best ones anyway.
After lunch at Mother's, I started down the hill through some fast esses on the way to 12 miles between 25 and 45 mph without turning a pedal stroke.
Then five miles down on a short straight going into a switchback, I heard an odd noise from the rear wheel. I slowed to take a look and BANG--the rear tire blew out.
More in the next post

San Diego or Beijing

While my camo pack helped me through the security line, once inside I was subject to all problems of air travel since the business downturn of 2000. I know, 9/11 had an effect, but air travel was really different when the airlines made lots of money. In 1999 I flew to a conference in Beijing. Back then Northwest Airlines flew direct to Beijing from Detroit. I left my house in Lancaster at 0830, 90 minutes before the flight from Harrisburg to Detroit. In 40 minutes I parked and was dragging my bicycle box (I always bring my bicycle on overseas trips, they don't charge for it.) and other luggage to check in. In 15 minutes I was boarding the 90-minute flight to Detroit. We had a 75-minuite layover, then off to Beijing. I took off at 1230 and landed 13 hours later in Beijing. Since Beijing is 12 hours ahead it was 1330 local time--the next day. It took an hour to get my bags and get my bike through Chinese customs, but by 1530 (3:30 am in PA) I was in my room assembling my bike. Total trip time from my home to Beijing with a bicycle--19 hours.

My flight out of Philadelphia to San Diego was delayed an hour. Then we sat on the runway for almost an hour. The connecting flight was also delayed. I did stop at work on the way to the airport so the comparison is not entirely valid, but I left my house at 0930 and was in my room in at 3am Eastern time in San Diego.
Total trip time WITHOUT the bike (it is cheaper to rent in America)--17 1/2 hours.

By the way, the trip distance to Beijing is about 10,000 miles--to San Diego is 3,000.

Escorted Around the Security Line

I had a good reason to fly to San Diego from Philadelphia on Monday afternoon, but I could not remember that reason when I walked halfway back to the parking garage to get in the Security Line for Terminal A. I had plenty of time--my flight was delayed one hour at that point and I arrived 90 minutes before the flight--but I did not want to spend an hour waiting to put my shoes in a gray plastic tub.

Ten minutes later I was in through security. One of the TSA guys walked along the line saw my ACU camo backpack and haircut and asked if I was military. I showed him the ID with the computer chip and he walked me to the air crew security line. I don't know if I will be flying anywhere else before I get deployed (that fight I won't have to take off my boots before boarding, but if I do my carry-on luggage will be camo.

Father's Day

My kids drove to Fort Indiantown Gap today to have lunch with Dad in an Army mess hall. Although my daughters were happy enough to eat Army food, my 8-year-old was was pumping his fist in the air at the possibility of eating lunch with 200 guys in camouflage. But he was not just looking for the chow-hall atmosphere, he wanted gravy. His mother is a former vegetarian and his youngest sister is a vegetarian and they do most of the cooking. So it is not often dinner includes gravy. And the menu today did not disappoint. We had beef stew over buttered noodles, vegetables, fruit, cole slaw and cake.

Before lunch, the kids met me at the motor pool so Nigel got to see the PLS and FRS (see Saturday post). Then we went to the mess hall. After lunch Nigel got to hold a SAW, an M-16A4 and a 9mm pistol. Guns and gravy--what could be better in the eyes of an 8-year-old?

My Vehicle M1075

Last year I wrote about being in charge of the FRS (Forward Repair System) for our unit. You might remember I am in charge of it because I am the only person in the motor pool, male or female, who does not work on his own car, truck, or motorcycle. This month we got a brand new M1075 PLS (Palletized Load System) 10 by 10, 500hp, five-axle, all-terrain semi-trailer to carry th FRS.

So now I will have to recall enough motor maintenance from my tank commander past to be in charge of the truck that hauls the FRS around.

Happy Father's Day