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Motorcycle Commute

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Sharing the experience of riding a motorcycle using words is going to fall short of the actual event. There is nothing like it, and it’s different for everyone. It is difficult to recall every detail that take place because there are so many of them. And it’s not like I can jot them down or make a quick audio note that I can pull up later. Both hands and both feet are making me go, stop, turn, use signals, or change gears. Every sense is focused on the ride: the speed I’m going, the speed I’d rather be going, where I’m at in the lane, what does the next turn look like, my position from vehicles before and behind me, and countless other minutia that gets used and lost from moment to moment. My ride mantra is constantly looping through my head as I cruise down the road, “They can’t see me, and they’re all out to kill me.” And somehow this is enjoyable and relaxing. Most of my riding takes place during my commute to work and back, and thankfully the route I take to work is all “...
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Don't Drink and Blog

You've heard it from every angle: "Don't drink and drive", "Don't drink and boat", "Don't drink and barbecue", "Don't drink and walk down the road or you'll get ticketed or arrested". All of these adjurations, regardless of their oppressive nature, are completely well advised in their entirety. But with today's technological lifestyle most people forget about the most important safety warning: DON'T DRINK AND BLOG! The enlightenment and lack of inhibition that comes with drinking alcohol is also attached with an inherent danger, and that is that you shouldn't necessarily spill your brains onto the interwebs because people are going to read what you say and cast judgment on your state-of-mind instead of your opinions. Don't pass your own opinions or judgments of workers if you are inebriated, especially if they deserve it. If you want to pass on your delightful anecdotes, or your most deep and heart...
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North Yelm Shenanigans

One of the many running jokes in our household is that North Yelm is out of control; the weekends don't start in North Yelm until sirens blaze past our house. Fire trucks, police cars, or ambulances whiz by the one road at a fairly regular rate. Of course, they're more prominent between Friday and Sunday. But that doesn't mean you won't hear them on Wacky Wednesday, or Totally Trashy Tuesday. We'll be doing whatever it is we do on a daily basis, whether it be dishes, or surfing the internet, or chasing cats, and the second we hear a siren off in the distance, we know exactly where they're headed: North Yelm. Our reactions are becoming less surprised nowadays, ranging from a shake of the head, to pleas for North Yelm to "knock it off"! Seriously, there aren't that many residences up that road. By now, I'm pretty sure that we've heard enough instances of official vehicles whip on down that road to equal every residential addres...
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Jumpmaster Dean

I just made it through 99% of Jumpmaster School. All that remains is to burn through a few jumps next week in whatever position the instructors put me, provided the weather doesn't snow like it is being forecast right now. The Jumpmaster course has been quite the challenge - more than I've put myself through in quite a while. It all started with the nomenclature test. Simply put, I had to correctly and exactly identify each part of the parachute harness, reserve parachute, weapons case, canopy release assembly, riser assembly, H-harness, et cetera. Any mistake resulted in a reduction in points. Any score below 70 points on any portion of any test in the entire course was considered a failure. Safety violations of any kind were an automatic failure (minus 35 points). Why they didn't just make it a 99-point violation, I'm not quite sure. After the nomenclature test was the JMPI portion, which stands for JumpMaster Personnel Inspection. We learned the...
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Peaces (lyrics without music... yet)

Sit in your leather chair and call your sandy jets Drink your chilled Hennessy and place your lavish bets Encompass yourself safely in your illusions Think about what you do, think about what you say Don’t believe that yours is truly the only way Sharpen yourself with righteous collusion Beware your voice, mark my words Of my choices, don’t make light Just because I want peace, Doesn’t mean I won’t fight I’ll play fair and make nice with all Soak up rancid sunshine But night will come and your world will end The second your world touches mine Take off your reins, open your brain Think with your soul if you can Hone your tolerance razor sharp If only history could be written by the oppressed Could our future withstand that test Of truth?
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Great Book

So no kidding there I was, in one of the major franchise bookstores a few weeks ago, trying to pick out a book to read for the homeward leg of a work trip. I perused multiple sections unsuccessfully, even stopping in front of the how-to section contemplating becoming a self-taught motorcycle mechanic. For a moment I pondered the purchase of several magazines in place of a book. But since I was traveling from the Eastern seaboard to the Pacific Northwest, I needed a plot. As I wandered toward the mall entrance of the store, I stopped in front of one of "those racks." You know the one; it is a circular tower no more than two feet wide and six feet tall which spins around its axis like a used car lot advertisement displaying all genres of paperbacks. Believe it or not, here is where I found my selection: "Ender's Game" by Orson Scott Card. Now, several of my friends have mentioned this book to me as a "must-read", which is why it sounded fa...
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Commander's Ride

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This past Thursday was our new Commander's "1st Annual Group Ride," and all motorcycle riders in the unit were told that this ride was their place of duty. So with me being a new motorcycle owner, and all excited to go on my first actual ride longer than four miles, I got my stuff ready and showed up. We were to meet at Jimmy Ray's Cycle Shop in Graham, WA at 9:00am, and go through some safety & awareness classes. The Group Commanders spoke and then they picked out several veteran riders to lead packs of eight (or so) riders. The route Would take us from the motorcycle shop through a few towns, and straight to the base Mount Rainier to a small town named Paradise. It was a relatively straight shot from the shop to the mountain, with few turns off. I didn't count the exact number of motorcycles that ended up showing up, but it easily numbered over 60 bikes. It was many more than I thought would show up. Cruisers, sportbikes, a couple sport tourers, a coup...
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