Trip update: It is a good thing that I like to travel. This has been a wonderful week and a wretched week. Continue reading
Where is home?
5
Sea story: By sea and by land (1960)
Jimmy sprawled over the railing at the end of the coach. He was pretending to be shot by the bad guys on the next coach. He looked down at the ground, fascinated by the railroad ties flying below him between the two cars. The coupling banged and slammed as the train eased up and down the gentle terrain between Portbou and Barcelona. Continue reading
How I have changed: communications and the cloud
The air was cool, with a gentle tailwind from the coast. Up ahead, we spied a Sobey’s in a shopping center on the right-hand side of the road. She wheeled into the parking lot, and I followed her. A few minutes later, we were sitting at a picnic table outside, checking our smart phones and swapping a half-gallon carton of orange juice between us.
Sea story: Getting to know Maria Grazia (1985)
“Thank you, Glenda,” I said, squeezing her hand. “I’ll see you next week.” Glenda smiled, too tired to talk anymore. Her eyes closed in sleep by the time I reached the door. The perspiration in my undershirt from riding 10 km to the nursing home had long since dried. I was ready to go out in the summer sun and ride home. Continue reading
How I have changed: breathing, smelling, hearing…
“I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.”
— Robert Frost.
The mountain was not as steep as some that we had already climbed, but it seemed interminably long. It was not as hot today as it had been earlier, but I was drenched with sweat. To keep up a steady cadence on my pedals, I repeated the artilleryman’s mantra as I stroked,
“If I wasn’t a gunner I wouldn’t be here. Ready, aim, fire!”
My legs no longer burned like they did the first week, so I must be getting stronger. But there was no denying that she was faster, stronger, and lighter. Continue reading
Sea story: Ice Off the Mark (1967)
“Turn to, crew!” I barked, as I passed the Plebes’ room (Plebes are first-year midshipmen/cadets at US service academies). I kept jogging toward the stairs, confident that the two underclassmen would be scrambling after me, and catch me before I reached the door to Bancroft Hall. I knew well the exhilaration they must feel to be done with classes for the day, and heading away from upper-class harassment for a couple of hours. Continue reading
How I have changed: gear
This week I get to show you just how clueless I was when I started out a year and a half ago to live on the road. When bike packing, nothing gives you away as a newbie faster than your gear. Continue reading
Sea story: War Games in the Dark (1974)
Dark. Absolutely dark. Deep inside USS Little Rock (CLG-4), the lights were all red, so that the night watch could accommodate their eyes. It had been more than four hours since I had seen white light, and I had gone out on deck early to let my night vision become as sharp as possible. It also helped that I knew the location of every knee-knocker and trip hazard by feel and by heart. 
I reported to the bridge at 2335 and sought out the Officer of the Deck (OOD). As Jerry gave me the run-down on the latest details, my bridge team was doing the same: lookouts, quartermasters, helmsmen, messengers, and status board keepers. The Captain was coming and going between Combat Information Center (CIC or “Combat”) and the bridge. He was always aware of where we were and what we were doing, but he knew that his OOD was driving the ship.
How I have changed: accommodations and attitude
Black Cat Road
Trip update: I have managed to ride almost every day, and, as often as not, out into the rolling hills of Albemarle County, Virginia. The days are short, so 40-45 km is a good ride. Still, the last three days, I have pulled in before dark. Now that I have ridden in as many places as I have in the last year, I find that Albemarle County is a very pleasant place to ride. The topography reminds me of riding along the Southern Shore of Nova Scotia. The weather has been comparable, too. Continue reading
Sea story: Judges and schoolteachers in Mogadiscio (1982)
In 1982, the capital of Somalia was still spelled in Italian. Today it is spelled Mogadishu, but it sounds the same. USS Coronado, a large amphibious ship painted white, dominated the harbor as she moored to the pier downtown. 
The flagship of the Commander, US Middle East Force was making her semi-annual Swing around the Indian Ocean, showing the flag and maintaining relations with the local governments. We did not know that it would be our last Swing: before long, the Iran-Iraq war would grind to a halt, but not before the US Middle East Force would be absorbed by the new US Central Command. By the end of the decade, the US Fifth Fleet would dominate the waters between Suez and Singapore, and the Middle East Force would join the Sand Pebbles and the Mediterranean Squadron in the pages of naval history. But not yet. Continue reading
The Freewheeling Freelancer 