Alaskan Pack Fodder

I had just finished fixing the flat when he drove up in his Chevy pickup and offered assistance. He had seen me from the other side of the road and driven at least a mile out of his way to lend a hand.    "No thanks, just caught a broken bottle. I think I've got it handled"    "People don't just seem to care about their fellow man anymore."     "You did, and I appreciate it."    I often think the world would be a much better place if everyone just tried to clean up after themselves. Sure it's the janitor's job, but you don't have to do your part to make it harder. The roadsides are littered with trash? T hat's somebody else's job. That mess on aisle 5 you just made? Someone else's problem. A couple of seconds of effort could make that guys life a little easier.    People don't just seem to care about their fellow man anymore. _____________________________________________________________________ The eyes gl...

Every Thursday, after the last notes of retreat died off, we'd do laps of the base. The first part of each lap was conversational, then, as if by silent agreement, one of the group would go to the front and start hammering. The others would fall in line. By the time we reached the chapel, the lead rider would rotate back and another would take his place. The tailwind we usually had here drove the speeds higher. We'd loop around the golf course, gaining speed as we reached the slight downhill towards base housing. When we rounded the corner at the event center we would get hit with the headwind. A stronger rider would take over and drive the pace mercilessly higher. A little gap left riders flailing for the remainder of the lap. A short sprint on the last straightaway, then a bit of regrouping and recovery before the next lap.    After four laps, we'd have a few beers.    Every week we would meet, riding the same laps. Round and round Keesler. Sometimes others wou...

As you read this, I am happily crammed into a metal tube, winging my way back to my beloved Alaska. My knees are locking up, my neck is cramped, and my back is aching. However, I'm moving in a positive direction. I'm going north.    My bike is somewhere below me, sitting mangled in its plastic case after TSA performed their ritual precision misalignments. I'm not worried about that, because my trusty titanium ride will have a well-deserved break and rebuild before it sees pavement in the spring.    I'm ready to be home. I miss my wife and children. I miss my dog. I want to be surrounded by the chaos that characterizes what I consider normal. I want to see snow. I want to see mountains. I want to be back where I belong.    I'd be lying if I said I wasn't going to miss the free time to do whatever I want like the bachelor I once was. That part was pretty cool. Getting to ride as much or as little as I want with little restriction on either option was so...

I'll be honest. I'm a bit spooked.    Steve Tilford's accident has given me a little to think about. Given my current circumstances, I have a lot of time to obsess about those little things.   Nope, I ain't gonna stop riding. Yeah, I wear a helmet pretty much every time I climb in the saddle (feels weird if I don't).    Instead, I was reflecting that if I was going to continue to ride, I might want to make sure that the piece of styrofoam and plastic that protects what marbles I have left rattling around my skull is the best and most protective piece of styrofoam plastic I can afford.    I don't want to go through what Steve is going through. I don't want to put my family through it. I don't want another TBI even on the level of my last one. I'd prefer to avoid repeating that sort of thing altogether.   Last winter I bought a new ski helmet, because (like an idiot) I left mine at home and had to coach in 30 minutes. I ran into the local ...

Bart threw out the invite at the Destroyer ride. His girlfriend was wanting to do a more relaxed group ride, so they were going to join some other riders for a ride from the Latimer Community Center. Planned average was 17.5 MPH (sounds kinda specific to me). Since I was trying to back off a bit this week, but still wanted to get in some miles, I said I was in.    I hadn't ridden much around Latimer in years. My only attempt to make a posted ride this trip nobody else showed up for. I didn't think it was still a thing. Nice roads out that way, but I couldn't quite remember where they were, and was too lazy to try to find the old GPS files. As I found new routes, Latimer just faded to the back of my mind.   I was pleasantly surprised to see a nice group at the community center Sunday morning when I rode up. Despite the time change and extra hour to be lazy, I was still slow to get out of bed. I made it with five minutes to spare, which is cutting it a little close when...

It's disgusting.   Both sides are acting like children, either throwing tantrums because they didn't get their way or smugly proclaiming that they would have "respected the process". Bullshit. You're no better or worse than them. Your reaction might have taken a different form, but at its core you would have done the same thing if it had gone the other way.    I got drawn into the whole thing on Facebook, clicking on link after link. Eventually I had enough and shut the laptop off and kitted up.    The air was much cooler than it has been. Something like a 20 degree drop. I picked a road I hadn't explored much and started turning the cranks. The unproductive tension dissolved. I found I could push higher wattage than I had on other solo rides, thanks to the air cooling my fat rolls more effectively. I was comfortable again. I wasn't greasy with sweat.    If it wasn't for the dark reducing the world to the small circle illuminated by my headligh...

On election day, I had resigned myself to serving under a deeply flawed and evil (my opinion) person. The next day I woke to find I would be serving under a completely different deeply flawed and evil (my opinion) person. So, I've got that going for me.    I have to hope for the best, because I respect this nation's institutions. I even respect the power of the bureaucracy, because it at least slows the swing of things one direction or another a bit. Gives us time to adapt, to absorb, to find our place within the new reality- whatever that may be.    I'm not hitting the streets in protest. My candidate didn't win. My vote went to a dope-smoking guy whose plans for 2017 include riding the Tour Divide . Not exactly somebody confident in their chances of taking it all, but I just couldn't bring myself to vote for a major party candidate when presented with the two choices.    People in uniform will do what they've always done. I've served far more years ...