Harley in the City

More Memories of Fred

2012-01-31T17:01:00.003-05:00

Fred was truly an incredible dog. The kind of dog that fills a young boys life going through difficult times of high school. He never met a stranger and never started a dog fight. After I graduated from college, I moved to Atlanta and started my first computer job. I settled into a house, and Fred moved from my parents home in South Georgia to live with me. Whenever I would make the occasional trip to South Georgia to visit family and friends, I would spread a furniture blanket over the backseat. Fred would stretch out and go to sleep.

Macon was about halfway on the drive, so I would stop at a McDonald's on the bypass and get dinner from the drive up window. I would order an extra cheeseburger, a small order of fries, and a small cup of water for Fred. We would park at the end of the parking lot near a light post. I would chain him to the light post where he could enjoy the cool grass, break the cheeseburger is small pieces and give them to him while eating my dinner. Then he would catch french fries one by one as I tossed them to him. Once we were both done eating, I would hold the cup of water at an angle where he could get his long nose into the cup far enough to lap water. He would drink the entire cup. I would then give him a short walk, and he was ready to travel again.

Less than 10 minutes back on the highway, Fred would be stretched out across the back seat sound asleep. He would wake up when I slowed down or stopped for a traffic light, stand up on the back of my seat and look over my shoulder out the windshield to see where we were. As soon as we began moving, he would jump down and go back to sleep.

He was always a great companion and an excellent traveller.

Some Holidays Just Don't go the Way You Planned

2012-01-26T21:35:00.000-05:00

Smokey and the Bandit - 1977 - Universal Studios

When I was 15 yrs old, I got a basset hound puppy who I named "Fred" after the basset in the legendary movie, Smokey and the Bandit.

Many years later, Fred was living on our 11-acre mini-farm in Southwest Georgia. My Mom came out to the house Christmas Eve and had brought several items to include in the dinner spread. When she arrived at the house, she came in, sat down and visited for a while. After 30 or 45 minutes, she suddenly said, "Oh, I almost forgot, I need to get the food out of the car!"

I jumped up, put my boots on, and went out to help her carry in the food. Walking out the back door, I quickly realized that she had left her car door open when she came into the house. I instantly thought about how long the door had been open and wondered if her car battery might have died sitting there with the dome light on that long.

Then, like a light bulb flicking on in my head, I had a sinking feeling in my stomach as I started thinking about the food and the fact the Fred was out in the yard and had a very good nose. When I got to her car I noticed the Saran wrap on the bowl of Potato Salad had a hole in it and there was a large divot in the Potato Salad. I then noticed that there was this very delicious looking Red Velvet Cake with cream cheese icing sitting on the seat with no cover. On closer inspection, I noticed a big gap in the icing where Fred had gotten several licks of icing.

Fred ended up having a much better Christmas Eve dinner than originally planned and the rest of us had a little different dinner than we had planned.

What is up for the New Year

2012-01-21T18:45:00.002-05:00

For those of you that have been curious what I have been up to for the New Year, I have been busy launching a non-profit ministry in our county to address hunger. The ministry is called Feed the Hungry Forsyth, Inc. the website is http://www.feedforsyth.org

Here is a couple brief videos that provide some background:

A Message From Our Founder from Feed the Hungry Forsyth, Inc. on Vimeo.

Assessing the Needs & How YOU Can Help from Feed the Hungry Forsyth, Inc. on Vimeo.

Mormons and Motorcycles

2012-01-14T15:40:00.000-05:00

Every morning for the last couple of months, I pass this billboard on my way to work. Look closely at the center image. It's a guy riding a motorcycle with no helmet. OK, it is a free country, and you can do what ever you so choose, but I think it is just plain dumb to ride a motorcycle without a helmet. I have been through too much and seen to much not to ride with a helmet whether it is required by law or not. I guess I am a bit confused on the message they are trying to convey, Draw your own conclusions.

Anyhow, I recently spent a week in Central Florida over the holidays. It was warm (low 70s F) most of the time we were there and the weather was simply beautiful. There were motorcycles everywhere we went. As you may know, Florida does not require motorcyclists to wear helmets. So we continually saw a lot of folks of on bikes riding without helmets.

Finally, we saw about a group of 15 motorcycles with riders sans helmet. I looked at them and remarked, "WOW! There sure are a lot of Mormons down here!"

Ride safe and enjoy. Remember AGATT!

Book Review: Journey on the Hard Side of Miracles

2012-01-10T17:01:00.001-05:00

Steven Stiles attended Berkeley in the late 1960s. As he rubbed shoulders with revolutionaries, intellectuals, communist, atheist, agnostics, musicians, artists, witches, homeless, addicts, and street people, he wondered how the American church of the 1960s could speak truth into the lives of the diverse society. One day, a self proclaimed drunk and sinner spoke in his abnormal psychology class. To his surprise the woman was a Christian who spoke candidly about her love of Beefeater Gin and referred to herself as a sinner, a drunk, a liar, a thief, and an adulterer. Instead of someone claiming to be resolved of all their shortcomings, she openly shared her brokenness and failures with the class. To his surprise, the woman received an ovation at the end of the class simply because she was genuine and humble - something most of the students had never encountered with Christians.

Several days later, the woman invited Stiles to join her on a ride as she wanted to show him something. She took him to a campground outside the town where a group of people lived in tossed together shacks and old VW vans. Naked people on LSD trips wandered aimlessly while drums played and the odor of marijuana filled the air. Stiles watched the woman as she passed out store bought cigarettes and cans of coffee to the residents of the commune. They lit up their smokes and sat around and listened as she talked to them about Jesus. Stiles followed her example and became involved in street evangelism.

This is the true story of a youth director and a group of Jesus People in the 1970s that set out on street ministry with little money, limited support, and vague plans. The countless mechanical breakdowns, the joys and disappointments, all make up the journey of following the Good Shepherd. Stiles is completely transparent in his accounts of the groups experiences as he and the Jesus People consider God's intervention in their lives. He does not paint a rose colored water painting of their experiences. Instead he details their experiences and their struggles as they carefully listen and attempt to obey.

I highly recommend this book.

Book Review: Start Something That Matters

2012-01-03T17:01:00.001-05:00

Start Something That Matters
by Blake Mycoskie

After several entrepreneurial start-ups, Blake Mycoskie took off from work to travel Argentina. While in Argentina, he was quiet taken with Argentinian national shoe, the alpargata. He also was moved my the amount of children that did not have shoes and were subsequently exposed to diseases. Upon his return to the U.S., he began working on a solution to the situation he witnessed in Argentina.

His answer was a simple concept, TOMS (Tomorrow's Shoes). He launched a business to manufacturer an Americanized version of the alpargata with better soles and inner soles. For every pair of shoes TOMS sold, they would donate a pair to a child in need.

The first portion of the book tells the story of TOMS, how the business launched, and how it has impacted children in need. The second portion on the book encourages the reader to find their own story - how to start simple and do something that makes a difference.

The story of TOMS is a compelling read and the book is very encouraging. I highly recommend reading this book. It is also available in audio form.

Careful What you ask!

2011-12-27T17:01:00.000-05:00

Image source: rvs.findthebest.com

My late grandparents spent a great deal of their retirement years pulling and Airstream travel trailer and exploring the United States. My grandfather told the story that on one of their many trips across the country, he and my grandmother got into a bit of an argument over the pronunciation of the town they were passing through.

After a spirited argument with no signs of resolution or compromise in the immediate future, they elected to stop for breakfast at a fast food restaurant. When the college-age guy behind the counter offered to take their order, my grandfather saw an opportunity to resolve their argument over the pronunciation of the town's name. So, he said to the guy behind the counter, "Hey, how about solving an argument for us. Tell us how to pronounce where we are and say it real slow." The guy behind the counter shrugged his shoulders, leaned over the counter and slowly said, "Bur-ger King."

I remember several years ago recognizing the high level of impatience that I possess. So, I began praying, "God, give me patience." In my mind, I thought that patience could be granted much like when I would call my Dad from college and say, "Hey, there is a retreat next weekend, can I have $75 to go." If he found the cause worthy, a week later a check would arrive. But it seems that is not how one acquires patience. Apparently, one does not wake up one morning suddenly feeling more patient than ever before in their life. No, to develop patience, one must learn patience.

So, my continued prayer requests for patience was met with me finding myself in more situations where I did not control everything and things did not happen at the pace that I thought they should. It was a very uncomfortable time, and I did not enjoy it a bit. I do not know if I developed more patience. But, I do know that I learned to be a bit more careful when I ask for something. I now contemplate on what might be the results of the request.

Footnote: The Story of Christmas

2011-12-20T17:03:00.003-05:00

Do you Know the Legend of the Christmas Moose?

2011-12-16T17:27:00.000-05:00

I originally published this story here on my blog three Christmases ago. It seems to get a bit more popular every year. So if you are not familiar with the legend, here it is:
The Legend of the Christmas Moose

Book Review: The Usurper - Cliff Ball

2011-12-13T17:01:00.001-05:00

Book Review: The Usurper - Cliff Ball (Fiction, Thriller, Political Intrigue)

The KGB plots the demise of the United States with various schemes of planned childbirths, planting operatives as college presidents, professors, newspaper editors, and politicians. Some are willing participants while some are blackmailed.

The author ties real events in America's history into this fictional tale to make the reader feel a connection to the story. Conspiracies run rampant through the story line. Every terrorist action has an underlying purpose tied to the KGB's ultimate goal.

The story is believable and kept my attention from start to finish.

Book Review: The Dream Giver - Bruce Wilkinson

2011-12-06T17:05:00.001-05:00

Are you living your dream or just living life? Do you look forward every morning to getting up and going into your job or are you just doing what you have to do to pay the bills?

This book starts with a parable - the story of Ordinary who is a Nobody living in the land of Familiar. One day, Ordinary decides to walk off his Usual Job, break out of his Comfort Zone, and pursue his Big Dream. He has to battle Bullies and Giants before he can thrive in the Land of Promise.

Beyond the parable, Wilkinson discusses how to identify and embrace your own Big Dream, what you need to do to break through your own Comfort Zone, how to deal with Border Bullies, and what it takes to defeat the Giants in your path.

I found this book very encouraging and motivating. Many of us complain about our jobs and continue to question our career paths, but very few stop to question what we were created for and what dream have we been carrying around for years.

Discontented? Not feeling like you are living up to your potential? Maybe you need to discover what your Big Dream is. I strongly recommend reading this book. It's only 160 pages and an easy read.

The Go-Kart

2011-11-29T17:01:00.002-05:00

One of the greatest things to enter my world prior to obtaining my driver's license was a used go-kart.

My folks had a yard that was big enough to turn some laps in the bag yard as long as you paid close enough attention to dodge the pine trees and our German Shepherd.

Image source: en.wikipedia.org

It was that go-kart that with my Dad's tutelage taught me a healthy respect for the coil on a two-cycle engine. Yeah, Pop always had a sense of humor, and it tickled him to see me get shocked.

One street over from our family home was the remains of the abandoned high school football field. The grand stands and goal posts were gone, but what remained was a flat wide asphalt oval course that circled the old playing field. That asphalt oval made a perfect go-kart track. On the occasional Saturday, my Dad would allow us to ride the go-kart over there and turn some laps around the old field.

One such Saturday, I rode over to the old field and met some neighborhood kids that also had a go-kart and soon a race was started. The two go-karts seemed equally matched, so getting an advantage was challenging. Finally on the third lap, I dove to the inside of the asphalt track to get the advantage through the turn. Suddenly I saw a foreboding image in my line of sight - a huge fire ant hill.

Image source: www.antweb.org

With no time to change course, The belly pan of the go-kart sliced the top of the mound off hurling three-quarters of the mound of fire ants onto me and the go-kart. Suddenly fire ants were up both my pant legs. Both of my legs become a stinging inferno.

I slammed on the brakes, killed the ignition, and hopped of the go-kart. Abandoning all modesty for self-preservation, I kicked off my tennis shoes, unbuckled my belt, and shed my Levis in front of God and half of the neighborhood kids. Kicking, screaming, twitching, I am sure I looked like a combination of someone dancing the "Icky Shuffle" and having a seizure all at the same time.

Because my Dad was so overcome with the humor of the sight, he could do nothing to help me as he was paralyzed with laughter and tears. I eventually was able to rid myself of all of the stinging/biting devils, beat my Levis against a pine tree to get all of the fire ants out of them, and was able to put back on my pants and ride home.

image source: www.aboutpest.com

I lost that race that day, but gave it no second thought. It took a few weeks to live down the jokes at school about my pantless dancing. I learned to watch carefully for fire ant hills when riding go-karts.

The Summer of 16

2011-11-22T17:00:00.001-05:00

Image source: http://oldcarandtruckads.com

I turned 16 years old in the fall of my sophomore year in High School. A few months prior to the big day, my grandfather drove down from Southern Indiana with a six year old Chevrolet El Camino. It was maroon with a white vinyl top and hub caps. Not the cool El Caminos that you saw at the beach, but I was very grateful to have something other than my mom's car to drive. My brother had turned 18 that Summer, so I could drive to school if he rode with me.

For some unknown reason, he was willing to do it. My first day driving to school did not go so well. As we were preparing to leave, I saw a kid from my class out front of the school in the u-shaped driveway. With my brother's prodding, I pulled up to talk to the kid who began talking trash about my newly acquired ride. He ended his comments by daring me to spin a tire.

Like a foolish kid with something to prove, I took the challenge. I stood on the throttle and spun a tire around the U-shaped drive and out onto the street in front of the school. As we sped past the school, I looked over my shoulder to see the kid's expression. But what I saw instead was the towering figure of the school Principal standing in the arched doorway of the school motionlessly watching my show. A sense of impending doom sank over me.

The next day at school, nothing out of the ordinary seemed to happen. That is until 6th period, the final class of the day, metal shop. Ten minutes into the class, the door opened and in walked the Principal. He spoke briefly to the instructor and a couple of students. He then coolly turned to make his way to the door when he stopped beside me and said, "I guess we probably need to talk. Why don't you stop by my office after class." And then without another word, he walked out the door.

My instructor was kind enough to let me go on to the office without having to sit through the rest of class and percolate with the fear of what was my fate. I made my way to the Principal's office. He greeted me and invited me to have a seat. He quickly made his point and concluded that if he ever saw me do something like that again, he would call the city police and let them handle it. Being a know-it-all teenager, my immediate thought was, "like they would do anything". I promised that I would not repeat my performance and thanked him for not taking any further action on the situation.

I was genuinely grateful that he had not called my Dad as I knew I would have gotten licks with a belt and probably had my keys to the El Camino yanked.

I managed to get through the rest of the school year without any major issues related to driving. I got my driver's license the Saturday after my birthday and began driving to school on my own and enjoying the freedom.

As Summer approached, I had dreams of spending the Summer going where I wanted and hanging out with friends. The first Sunday night of the Summer, I left Sunday night's Church service and stopped in the city parking lot to chat with some friends. When the conversation concluded, I remembered I needed to pick up a dish my Mom had sent to Church with me for youth group. So I drove to the end of the parking lot to turn into the alley that led to the Church parking lot. As I turned, I drove through a small bit of sand and barely spun a tire. It was not anything up to my standard for lighting a tire up. It was a small chirp that I thought nothing more about. Halfway down the alley, I suddenly see blue lights in my mirror.

I turned into the Church parking lot and met a very short city cop with an attitude that exceeded his small statue. He quickly informed me that he had been on top of one of the buildings downtown observing the parking lot with binoculars and had observed me spinning tires.

He had me follow him to the City Police station where I called my Dad. Needless to say, he was less than pleased with the situation. The cop wrote me the first traffic ticket of my life, and my Dad told me to drive straight home, pull my car into the backyard, and hang my set of keys up in the kitchen.

When Dad got home, he told me I was grounded from driving for the entire Summer. Just shoot me. He told me I could borrow his bicycle for anywhere I wanted to go.

So, Monday, I got up and wanted to go to the American Legion swimming pool to hang out with my friends. So, swallowing my pride, I grabbed Dad's bike and headed down the street feeling sorry for myself and how humiliating it was to be back on a bicycle.

I did not think for a minute about the fact that Dad's bicycle had long street fenders as opposed to the short fenders the bike I had ridden to elementary and middle school. My only thoughts were how bad the summer would suck not getting to drive. Halfway down our street, I kicked the pedals, yanked the handle bars and stood the bike up in a wheelie like I had done hundreds of times on my old bike. But as I did, the long back fender grabbed the asphalt and I was unloaded before I could think another thought. Clad in a bathing suit and a t-shirt, the asphalt opened both knees and forearms.

I carefully pedalled my bruised ego and bloody body back to the house to clean up by abrasions. My Mom greeted me at the door with minimal sympathy and helped me clean myself up.

It was a tough summer, but I had a lot of opportunity to mature some of my thinking.

Advantages of Living in a Small Town

2011-11-15T17:00:00.003-05:00

Photo Source: http://www.camillaga.com

From time to time someone asks what were the best parts of growing up in a small town. While there are several things that come to mind whenever I ponder that question, one story always replays in my mind.

While in high school, my Mom had bought a Yamaha Champ 50cc scooter. Because it was 50ccs, a motorcycle license was not required to operate the scooter on public streets.

My Dad had ridden a Harley 125 when he was in high school, and the scooter had got him to thinking. He decided he would like to get his motorcycle endorsement on his driver's license in case he ever decided to buy another motorcycle.

In our little Southwest Georgia town, the State Patrol came to the city court house once a month for driver's exams. Otherwise you drove 30 miles to the State Patrol post for exams. Dad elected to wait until the day the Troopers came to town. He rode the Champ to the court house and took the written test. Although the troopers had computerized testing a the State Patrol post, when they came out to the local court house, it was literally a written test - pencil and paper. Dad completed his written exam and gave it to the trooper. The trooper reviewed it and announced he had passed.

Dad then requested to take the riding portion of the exam. The Trooper asked if he had something to ride for the exam. Dad said he did and it was parked outside. So they walked out and he pointed to the Champ. The Trooper looked at the little scooter and said, "You want to take the motorcycle riding exam on that?" Dad said he did. The Trooper scratched his head a second and then said "OK. Here is how this is gonna work. If you can ride that thing to the corner and back without falling off, you pass." Dad rode to the corner, made a long slow U-turn, and rode back. The Trooper walked inside and completed his paperwork. Dad has had a motorcycle endorsement on his drivers license ever since.

This was a very different experience to the exam I was subjected to in Atlanta 30 years later. There are some advantages to living in a small town.

The Driver's Test

2011-11-09T22:31:00.000-05:00

The Saturday morning after I turned 16, I drove my Dad to the State Patrol post in Albany (pronounced Aww Benny) to take my driving test. After waiting for several nervous minutes, a mountain of a man in a trooper's uniform and Smokey bear hat walked out carrying a clipboard and a Styrofoam cup of coffee. He paused, looked around and called my name. I could feel my heart race.

We crawled in my El Camino. He set a cup of coffee on the dash, pulled his hat down to his nose and said, "lets go". I looked over at him and said, "Not until you fasten your seat belt." Seat belts were not mandatory in those days, but they were in my automobile. He grumbled, fumbled around, found the seat belt, fastened it, and pulled his hat back down. I started the car, and the trooper explained the rules, "Spill my coffee and you flunk." No pressure.

He directed me out onto the four-lane highway then to a turn lane to change directions. I drove south carefully maintaining my speed and lane position until he directed me to make a turn on a side road and a few more turns. He raised his hat briefly, pointed to a house and said, "That's my house".

A few more turns, back onto the four-lane highway, and we returned to the State Patrol post. I carefully pulled to the curb and shut off the ignition. I could feel my pulse racing. Not a drop of coffee spilled. I had signalled all my turns, stopped at all of the stop signs, had not exceeded the posted speed limits, and parked between the white lines.

The trooper raised his hat, sipped his coffee, and began scribbling on his clipboard. He quietly unbuckled his seat belt and got out. I got out and followed him. He stopped in front of my Dad and said, "He passed". he tore a card off his clipboard, handed it to me, and told me to carry it inside to have my license made.

After 30 years, I do not remember the trooper's name or exactly which house was his, but I still remember the route we took for the exam and how relieved I was that I had not spilled that cup of coffee.

Book Review: Our Last Great Hope

2011-11-07T16:36:00.000-05:00

Our Last Great Hope - Awakening the Great Commission

By Ronnie Floyd

Ronnie Floyd describes the Great Commission, Jesus command to the 11 remaining disciples found in Matthew 28:16-20 as Our Last Great Hope.

Jesus said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” (Matthew 28:18-20 NIV)

Floyd challenges the reader to perform nine actions: face the truth about yourself, awaken the church, accept the urgency, transform our families, capture our communities, talk Jesus daily, desire it deeply, evaluate everything financially, and act now.

I found the book difficult to read from cover to cover as it did not hold my attention for long periods of time. I found myself reading it, setting it down for weeks at a time, and then picking it up and reading some more. What kept me picking it back up and delving back into it time and time again was the fact that I believe the message of the book is timely and valid. I just personally found it difficult to continue reading from cover to cover.

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the publisher through the BookSneeze®.com book review bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”

Book Review: Terror by Night

2011-10-28T18:33:00.000-05:00

Terror by Night by Terry Caffey and James H. Pence

What do you do when everything that matters to you is taken away?

If you believe in God, is your faith shaken when tragedy strikes? Do you question God? Do you turn your back and run as far from God as you can? Do you question if he even exist?

Terror by Night is the true story of Terry Caffey and his journey after his wife and two sons were brutally murdered, his home was burned to the ground, and his daughter was implicated in the crime and imprisoned. Before the brutal attack on his family, Caffey had felt he was called to the ministry. He did not know if he was going to be a preacher or an evangelist, but he was about to be ordained. But then in the middle of the night, someone attacks his family and everything is shattered. It is the story of his struggle to recover from the injuries he sustained in the attack and his mental, emotional, and spiritual struggles to resume his life. Caffey's story reads like a modern day version of Job. Everything he owned is gone. His family is gone. He feels isolated, abandoned, and alone.

It is a heart-wrenching story to read, but it is very inspiring to see how he responded in the face of total despair.

Peanut Gravel

2011-10-07T17:59:00.000-05:00

It was a beautiful Fall day in rural South Georgia 1975. My brother and I had gotten out of school and were peddling our bicycles home like we did everyday. In 1975, we did not have to wear helmets to ride a bicycle or knee pads or any safety gear. The cool fall weather made the bicycle ride more enjoyable.

After crossing the highway that led out of town to Cairo, my brother looked at me and put down the challenge, "Lets race!" That was all I needed to hear. I stood up on the pedals and began pumping my legs as hard as I could. We were side by side as we approached the corner. I shot for the inside of the turn to get the advantage. As we righted the bikes out of the corner, I was flying and had him by just a bit.

The local peanut processing plant in town had machinery that separated peanuts from rocks. The plant would pile these small rocks at the edge of their property and offer them to the public for free. Many of our neighbors took advantage of this generous offer and used these peanut rocks for their driveways. As I came racing down the edge of the street, the tires of my bicycle hit some of these peanut rocks that had scattered from a driveway into the edge of the street. The bicycle jerked, and I wrestled trying to regain balance and control. But it was not happening. I went down with a thud sliding on the course rock imbedded asphalt and the loose peanut rocks scattered on it.

The palms of my hands burned from the scraping they took and my chin hurt. I began spitting rocks and blood trying to clean out my mouth. A kid from our school had walked out to get the mail from their family's mailbox just as I crashed at the end of their driveway. He looked me over and suggested to my brother, "You probably need to get him home."

My brother helped me up and had a terrified look on his face. I got back on my bicycle to complete the remaining 150 yards home with blood dripping from my chin. My brother took off riding as fast as he could screaming at the top of his lungs for my Mom. When I rode into our driveway, my brother and Mom were standing in the driveway to inspect my injuries.

Mom took a quick look and reported I had a puncture below my bottom lip that needed stitches. She gave me a wash cloth to control the bleeding and loaded us into her car for a trip to the local clinic.

Our family Doctor shook his head as I described the events leading up to the rocks tearing a hole in my chin. He described what had to be done calmly as he began administering several shots into my chin to deaden the area so he could sew it up. Once done he advised that I could not eat anything for the next seven days. I could drink with a straw being careful to keep liquid away from the stitches.

My mind raced to what this meant. The school fall festival was that weekend with Carmel Apples, desserts, and all kinds of great candy. And now, I would be having none of it - a devestating revelation to a 12 year old.

The next several days were filled with every food imaginable being blended into a pulp the consistentcy of broth and consumed with a straw from a glass. Those seven days seemed like months. One of the happiest memories of that school year was the painful experience of having those stitches removed and knowing I could eat whole food that night for dinner.

I remember this episode in my childhood every time I crawl on a motorcycle. It sits in the back of my memory reminding me to carefully watch the roadway for loose gravel and other debris that could disturb the delicate balance of traction and control.

Book Review: If You Lived Here, I'd Know Your Name: News from Small-Town Alaska

2011-10-06T16:01:00.000-05:00

If You Lived Here, I'd Know Your Name: News from Small-Town Alaska
by Heather Lende

Heather Lende is a wife, mother and obituary writer for the Chilkat Valley News in Haines, Alaska a town of 2,500 situated 90 miles north of Juneau - a town without a stoplight (even a flashing yellow) and practically inaccessible if the ferry is out and the weather too bad for six-seater air service.

She tells the story of living in Haines firsthand with vivid descriptions of the town's characters: the tattooed Presbyterian pastor, the ZZ Top bearded sewer plant manager who rides a motorcycle, the one-legged female gold miner, and the Roy Orbison-impersonator school principal.

The story varies from the humorous anecdotes of the daily interactions among the town people to the sinking of a family fishing boat and the loss of a young man at sea. Mixed in with all of the stories are her vivid word pictures of the moose, the seals, the bears, the mountain goats, and the mountains and glaciers that paint the Alaskan landscape.

This is a enjoyable read and very hard to put down once you start reading it.

Book Review: The Principle of the Path - Andy Stanley

2011-09-27T18:57:00.001-05:00

A lot of times in life, we wonder why despite our good intentions and our efforts at working hard, we end up in situations with relationships, jobs, and finances that we never wanted. Nobody sits around and says, "when I grow up I want to have a failed marriage and have a debt load so high that I have to work three jobs to keep from losing my house." So, how is it that if we have positive goals and dreams that we end up so far away from what we wanted if we had really good intentions?

If we could step back a few years in our lives, wouldn't we make a couple decisions a little different now that we know how they panned out? I know I certainly would.

In his book, The Principle of the Path, Andy Stanley suggests that our destinations are a result of the path we are travelling on, not our good intentions. and despite how hard we might be praying, if we are headed in the wrong direction, nothing but a change of direction is going to right the situation.
He relates a story of taking off on an unopened road that was under construction and speeding away into the night. Fortunately, someone saw him zoom by and run him down and stopped him before he launched into a swamp where the road construction had not completed a bridge. Without someone who had been down the road that knew it abruptly ended, he would have ended in a swamp.

He goes on to suggest that it might be in our best interest to seek out someone that has been through life a little ahead of us and seek their advice on life impacting decisions. If we want to have a good marriage, maybe we should seek out an older couple that seem to have the kind of relationship we would like to have and pick their brains. If we want financial or career success, maybe we should seek out an older person that has achieved what we would like to achieve and obtain their advice.

Why don't we do that naturally? Pride? Too much self-confidence to admit what we don't know?

This is a very thought provoking book. I would recommend it to anyone wanting to make wiser decisions.

House Dedication - Sara Wilson Family

2011-09-17T17:33:00.001-05:00

One of the most rewarding experiences of working on a Habitat for Humanity home build is returning for the dedication when the homeowner receives the keys to their completed home. We have been fortunate to participate in several over the last years, and it always brings us great joy to celebrate with the homeowner and their family.

Today was another of those opportunities. Sara Wilson, a domestic violence survivor, and single mother of two received the keys to her new home this morning - the end of a very long journey for Sara and her two precious little girls.

Sara has toiled along side of all of the construction volunteers since the first day of the build as well as working on the construction of other Habitat homes over the last several months. Today was a celebration of the culmination of all of that hard work.

If the impact of being able to provide a decent place to live does not ring true to you when you are attending one of these dedications, all you have to do is look at the children playing on the playground equipment in the yard (donated by Habitat supporters) and it begins to make sense.

As a new homeowner, Sara now has a zero interest mortgage and a well built, dependable home.

Sara works as a Victim Advocate at Family Haven, a shelter for victims of domestic violence. The very shelter where several years ago, she sought assistance and support.

We feel blessed to have been able to be apart of the construction of Sara's home and what it means to the future of her family.

Habitat For Humanity article on Sara Wilson

In a Texas State of Mind

2011-09-06T19:13:00.000-05:00

For Labor Day, we decided to see the sites of Austin, Texas, the Live Music Capitol of the World.

When we checked into the hotel, we quickly realized that Cabela's was just across the parking lot. So, we spent several hours wandering around inside checking out all of the clothing, camping equipment, fishing gear, and guns as well as the enormous collection of stuffed animals and the impressive aquarium.

a Redtail Catfish at Cabela's - Buda, TX

Of course, eating was on our itinerary, and we found plenty of good places for it. Including the Salt Lick for BBQ.

And if we are gonna eat Texas BBQ, I gotta have some brisket.

Of course, Tex-Mex was also on our menu and Chuy's was awesome.

We ventured North to Round Rock and took a look at Dell's impressive sprawling campus.

And of course, we loaded up on University of Texas Longhorn gear!

Sunday, we visited Northpoint Church in Cedar Park, TX which is a strategic partner of our church here in Atlanta.

All good things must come to an end, Monday rolled around and it was time to hit the airport and head back to Atlanta. At one of the airport coffee shops, I was reminded this was really Texas, as the coffee shop was selling Shiner Boch and Lonestar.

Boot Camp

2011-08-21T19:41:00.000-05:00

Earlier this Summer, I began volunteering as a small group leader in Transit, the middle school program at Browns Bridge Church. For the sixth graders, Transit holds a weekend camp called "Boot Camp" to kick things off after school starts to help create community in the small groups. This is a huge experience for these rising 6th graders as for many, it is their first camp experience on their own.

I elected to implement a special haircut for the Boot Camp weekend.

The response this year was huge, around 200 6th graders signed up, so five buses were waiting at send-off to shuttle us to the FFA campground near Covington, GA. After everyone got signed in, there were tons of Pizza waiting for the kids before we hit the highway.

The buses were electric with the kids chattering and activity on the highway.

Once we arrived at the camp, everyone got introduced to two characters that would be camp leaders for the weekend, Sgt. Peppers and Col. Sanders. The campers were divided up into companies and provided a company flag. Our camp leaders informed the campers that there would be a competition for the prized "golden helmet".

A late night Worship was held with high energy music and singing followed by an engaging talk. After meeting with our small group to discuss the evening's message, we finally hit the bunks around midnight. Of course, the boys were wound up and had not intentions of sleeping. The last boy finally quit talking around 4am.

We were awakened to an air horn around 8am and the Saturday began with a trip to the Mess Hall.

Saturday was a blur of quiet time, Worship, more thought provoking talks, small group time, and team competitions that included events like Dodge Ball in the rain, kick ball with wading pool bases (and a slip-in-slide going into home plate's pool), finding gummy worms in a mixing bowl full of Cheerios (no hands!), and seeing how many kids good get in a canoe before it sank. A pool competition saw events like swimming relay (in an army jacket), alligator (the inflatable float kind) wrestling, and small group leader belly-flops.

Here is a video from Worship. Yes, these are 6th graders worshipping.

Saturday night's Worship and message was highlighted by the best presentation of the Gospel that I have ever heard. The campers were challenged with having a Faith of their own. One of the boys in our group decided to accept Jesus as his personal Saviour and small group time saw the boys ready to really share on what they heard and what ti meant to them.

Sunday started early with the boys cleaning up the cabin and packing their bags. Lots of help was needed returning the cabin to cleanliness and getting sleeping bags rolled back up. A final Worship experience, and then we were back on the buses headed home. It was very apparent that the kids were as worn out as the leaders as the noise level was significantly lower on the trip back.

Never Beyond a Second Chance: Scandalous Grace and Insane Forgiveness

2011-08-15T16:50:00.000-05:00

Who Deserves a Second Chance?

If you are anything like me, you have struggled with forgiving the folks in life that have abused you, taken advantage of you, hurt you, have regularly offended you, speaks poorly of you, hurts your family members or someone close to you.

Some folks seem more worthy of my forgiveness than others. So, my natural tendency is to forgive the ones that are worthy of forgiveness and not the rest. That seems justifiable and logical. Seems fair enough, right? There is not any real need to forgive someone that is down right evil and has no desire to change their actions, right?

In 2006, a very tragic thing occurred in Nickel Mines, PA. Charles Roberts, the local milk truck delivery man, stormed into a one-room school house and began shooting. He shot ten young girls, killing five, and then killed himself. The families of the Amish school girls were devastated. We can barely imagine their grief.

If anyone had a reason to withhold forgiveness, it certainly would seem the Amish families of Nickel Mines had as much justification as anyone. How did they respond? They refused to degrade his character. Half of the people that attended his funeral were Amish including the parents who had just buried the children a few days prior. Amish families visited the shooter's widow and carried her meals and flowers, and they contributed to a fund for her family. When asked about their views, the Amish explained that if the shooter had lived, they would have wanted him locked up - not out of revenge, but for the safety of other children.

A book has been written about the shooting and the Amish response - Amish Grace: How Forgiveness Transcended Tragedy by Donald Kraybill, Steven Nolt, and David Weaver-Zercher.

Are the Amish right? Are they setting an example for the rest of the world that we should be taking to heart? Are we allowed to pick and choose who we forgive? Are we obligated to give grace if we accept God's grace in our lives?

The Bible has a couple of things to say on the issue:

"Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven." - Luke 6:37

"For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins." - Matthew 6:14-15

People of the Second Chance(POTSC) is launching the NEVER BEYOND Poster Series: 25 posters representing well known historical, current and fictional characters who are believed to have harmed society. This campaign consists of digital and print posters and the full collection will eventually be displayed as a touring art exhibit.

The campaign draws out themes of forgiveness, grace and what a pathway to a second chance looks like.

The image at the top of this post is the first of their 25 poster series. Do you recognize the image? It is Casey Anthony. You may recall she was accused of murdering her two year old daughter, Caylee and was found not guilty. Casey Anthony ABC News Article

Could you give Casey Anthony a second chance? Would the Amish families in Nickels Mine, PA? As a Christian, are we called to give her a second chance?

Book Review: Rumors of God - Darren Whitehead and Jon Tyson

2011-08-05T16:46:00.000-05:00

In a life filled with tension and stress, the promises we read in the Bible seem to be far different that what we experience day to day. Are the promises true? Are the things we read in the Bible just simply rumors of God or are they truths that we can actually experience in our own lives? Is God real? Is He still moving in the lives of those who call out to Him? Do you fell like your life leaves you wanting more? Is there really a "new life" in Jesus like the old television preachers used to talk about? Do you feel jaded by the church? Are you cynical about the power of God in the current day and age?

The authors, Darren Whitehead and Jon Tyson, discuss the rumors we have all heard about God, but we fail to see in the world around us. Rumors like justice, hope, freedom, love, community, abundant life, generosity, another life, an unimagined future, and commitment. They invite us to find those rumors are all around us everyday and provide numerous real life stories of everyday people who have found them. They manage to take scriptures we have heard all our lives and even forced to memorize and show them truly at work in today's world.

This book is encouraging to read in a world that constantly seems to bombard us with discouragement.

New Gear

2011-07-26T15:46:00.001-05:00

Last weekend I headed up to Dahlonega to Riders Hill to do some shopping for some riding boots. I have always ridden in steel-toe work boots, but while we were in Venezuela, I really became interested in purposely designed riding boots. Because the weather was hot, sunny, and clear, Riders Hill's parking lot was packed with every kind of bike that one could imagine.

After trying on a couple of pair and checking out features, I selected a pair of Alpinestars Ridge boots. I also have been giving some serious thought to a Hi-Viz riding jacket to increase the visibility during my 42 mile daily commute. Anything to help the cage drivers with their cellphones embedded into the side of their skulls see the guy on the Harley with three headlights. They had a First Gear Mesh-Tex mesh Hi-Viz jacket in extra large, but they were sold out of the size I needed - Large. But they quickly offered to order one for me as he had three other orders for the day for the same jacket.

Thursday I checked with them and the jacket was in, so I began the calculations in my head. If I left work at 3:30pm and could keep my speed, I could reach Riders Hill before they closed at 5pm. But with Atlanta traffic, it would be close.

I left work and immediately began encountering all kinds of traffic obstacles. I began to employ Dan Bateman avoidance measures and began slicing through traffic. 42 miles into the 65 mile ride to Riders Hill, I noted that I would also be pushing the absolute limits of the range for the amount of fuel I had. So, despite my time crunch, I dove into the gas station and burned some precious time and income purchasing some $4.00 a gallon 92 octane gasoline.

Back on the road, I now had 23 miles of Ga HWY 9, an old two lane twisting blacktop. And to my chagrin, more traffic wanting to drive 15 mile an hour slower than the speed limit and no passing zones. About five miles South of Dawsonville, it began to rain. And then it began to pour. Marvelous. The rain drops were huge and coming down at a pelting rate. For several minutes it felt like they could cut my cheeks. North of Dawsonville the rain quit and instantly the humidity began to rise.

Finally, I reached the city limits of Dahlonega where I would have to maneuver through 4 stoplights before heading North to Riders Hill. And would you know it everyone wanted to pull out of intersections in front of me and drive 10 mile an hour slower than the posted speed limit - Grand.

After what seemed to take forever, I arrived at Riders Hill and the gate was still open. As I rode up the inclined driveway, I could see the "Open" light still lit. I parked and crawled off Rosie and checked my watch - 5:05pm, darn it! But the door was still unlocked. The staff was more than happy to hook me up with my new Hi-Viz jacket making the trip worthwhile.

After making the ride home, I started taking off my riding gear when the snap on one sleeve cuff of my new jacket came apart. I sent an email to First Gear late Friday afternoon explaining my predicament. Within an hour I had a very pleasant response offering to fix the issue for free.

First thing Monday morning, I received an UPS prepaid shipping tag and a RMA in my email for returning the jacket to the folks at First Gear. So, while a bit dismayed I had an issue day one with my new jacket, I have to say I am delighted with how quickly First Gear has responded to make amends.

And Even ANOTHER Venezuela video

2011-07-23T19:39:00.002-05:00

What the Heck is Planking?

2011-07-17T18:54:00.000-05:00

Photo source:Bensayin.com
Ok, so I'm not 20 years old any more and I do not keep up with the latest fads. So when we were checking in with our airline for our flight out of Atlanta to kick off our mission trip at like 5am, I see this younger team member, Andrew Kim, lying face down on the tile floor. And, as any curious casual observer might inquire, I asked, "What the heck is he doing on the floor?"

"Planking" I was told. Um, OK. What the heck is planking?

According to Wikipedia, "The lying down game (also known as planking,[1] or face downs) is an activity, popular in various parts of the world, consisting of lying face down in an unusual or incongruous location. The hands must touch the sides of the body and having a photograph of the participant taken and posted on the Internet is an integral part of the game.[2] Players compete to find the most unusual and original location in which to play.[2] The location should also be as public as possible, and as many people as possible should be involved."

Apparently, this has been a popular activity since around 1994. Who knew?

So, of course my next question was, did he consider the amount of feet and shoe soles that had crossed the floor of the Atlanta airport? ICK.

But, it quickly became amusing to watch where he would be planking next as the trip progressed.

And before long, planking was catching on with other team members.

I am betting the cleanliness of the airport parking lot ran a close second to this I-beam in the parking deck of the shopping mall in Venezuela.

And it has continued to other countries once our team's mission was complete. One of our other team members, Amanda Rodriguez was off travelling to another country and posted this plank.

She said she had to ask a total stranger in Spanish to taker her picture. After trying to explain planking in Spanish, she finally said, "Quit asking questions and take the picture!"

Wiki goes on to show other examples:

source: http://en.wikipedia.org/

And of course, there is lots of planking on Youtube:

Venezuela - the Video

2011-07-10T19:39:00.001-05:00

One of our team members made this video of our trip. I thought I would share it for those interested.

Book Review: The Blessing - John Trent and Gary Smalley

2011-07-04T10:13:00.001-05:00

The Blessing – John Trent, PH.D. and Gary Smalley

The blessing is a means of conveying unconditional love, acceptance, and approval to our children. It can be applied to all of our relationships: spouses, extended family, friends, co-workers, church family, and classmates.

All children grow up desiring unconditional love, acceptance, and approval from their parents. If they do not receive it clearly conveyed by meaningful touch, spoken message, attaching high value, picturing a special future, and active commitment, they spend the rest of their lives seeking approval from other relationships in unproductive ways.

The book breaks down the issues that develop in the lives of children who grow up in situations where the blessing is withheld or where parents choose to make their children try to earn the blessing. It also illustrates the power of words and power of the generational curse.

The book also provides solid, practical advice on intentionally provide the blessing in relationships to prepare children for positive relationships in their lives as well as practical steps for reversing the effects of not receiving the blessing in a person’s childhood.

John Trent and Gary Smalley provide suggestions on how to intentionally provide the blessing in life’s most difficult situations like divorce, death, desertion, adoption, and blended families.

This is a book that every parent, every adult that has not experienced parental approval, everyone that works with children, every small group leader, every children and youth worker, every pastor, every teacher, every employer, and everyone who values the relationships in their lives should read.

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the publisher through the BookSneeze®.com book review bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”

Venezuela Recap

2011-07-03T12:13:00.003-05:00

Sorry for all the post with no pictures, the internet access at the hotel was just not up for it. But here are a host of pictures to catch you up on the experience.

I was amazed to see so many motorcycle cops in Venezuela. Most are riding dual sports like this officer who gladly agreed to a photo.

Allison's birthday was Monday while we were in Venezuela. The staff at Project Jonas suprised her with flowers and a cake. The girls on our team also suprised her with a cake, so everyone enjoyed a lot of delicious cake.

Some of the electrical issues I was greeted with upon arrival...

There were about 20-24 outside light fixtures that looked something like this:

We managed to get three rebuilt to look like this:

Here's Allison painting:

Here's the concrete pad in progress:

EPA - the daily building supply adventure:

Venezuela Day 7 and 8

2011-07-03T11:43:00.001-05:00

Bright and early we rolled out of bed Friday at 3:30am and were in vans for a 3.5 hour ride to the beach with our team and the boys from Project Jonas. The conditions of the roads give the appearance of having been carpet bombed, but they have not had a war.

The driving is amazing in itself, something between Mad Max and Deathrace 2000. Many treat red lights like yellows. Stop and then go before it goes green. Intersections are games of chicken. Motorcycles split lanes even with opposing traffic and hardly anyone wears a helmet or anything remotely looking like gear. Honestly despite my years of experience racing, I do not think I would be interested in driving in Venezuela.

When we arrived at the beach it was gorgeous emerald blue water, crashing waves, and palm trees. We boarded a few 18 foot boats and rode for 20 minutes out to Cayo Sombrero Morrocoy
Venezuela. The first thing we saw when we stepped off the boats onto the island were iguanas feasting on bags of trash.

Locals were renting chairs and small canopies while others were selling lobsters and varieties of seafood. We sampled some and it was amazing. So we purchased some shrimp and feasted in the shade while reading and relaxing.

The boys snorkeled and played football in the surf and a good time was had by all. Despite SPF 70 and shade, some of us still ended up sunburned. We returned to the farm for dinner and tearful goodbyes and then headed to the hotel for showers and rest.

Saturday we were up at 7am for breakfast and a brief team meeting then off to the airport. Our day of flying started out a bit off schedule with our first flight almost 2 hours delayed.

Our three hour lay over in Caracass turned into more like 45 minutes. And we had to get our luggage from the domestic carousel and over to the international check-in and then go thru security again. At the gate, we had to do security again. The best I understand, TSA does not trust Venezuela's security so they require the airlines to do their own for flights headed to the states.

When we landed in Miami, we had the slow process of going through customs. I was surprised how many folks were lined up for customs at 10pm on a Friday. Then we had to pickup our luggage from the carousel, carry it thru a section of customs and then pass it off to another area where the inspected it and then gave it back to the airlines.

We finally landed in Atlanta a few minutes after midnight. We retrieved our luggage and met up with Dash Transport for the ride home. We arrived to two very anxious dogs greeting our arrival home around 2am.

Venezuela Day 6

2011-07-01T03:19:00.000-05:00

Thursday we avoided the trip to Epa and went straight to the farm. Another group went to Epa for additional supplies.

Allison assisted the bathroom remodeling team with painting, I assisted Carlos with laying concrete block on the trash enclosure. Carlos and I had worked the electrical project for the water pump together and worked together on pouring the concrete pad.

Carlos speaks no English and I know only a very limited Spanish vocabulary. So much of this week he has repeated the same sentence numerous times that could not understand and then we would play charades to communicate.

My grandfather was pretty good at laying block and when I was growing up, I carried a lot of block for him and learned the process well. So when I was carrying block for Carlos this morning, he quickly figured out I knew something about the process.

One of our group that speaks both Spanish and English walked out while we were working, so we got to use an interpreter for a bit. Carlos wanted to know if I was a block layer. I said no. He then asked why I knew how to mix mud and how to lay out the first run of block. So, I had the interpreter explain. He smiled and responded that I was good help. I took the compliment with high regard from someone skilled and as hard working as he has been this week.

After lunch with the boys, the supplies arrived and I began replacing pole mounted exterior light fixtures and cleaning up some more wiring issues. I finished it up just before sundown and got to see the fruit of my labor when they turned on the lighting at dark.

Our team had some pretty ambitious projects this week, but it has all turned out quite well. We are pleased with the results.

The boys and staff at the farm fed us dinner and threw us a fiesta complete with dancing. We returned to the hotel around 10pm had a brief team meeting, and then I got to get a shower.

Off to bed, we have to be up at 3:30am tomorrow.

Venezuela Days 3, 4, and 5

2011-06-30T06:14:00.000-05:00

First, let me appologize forw the lapse posting. The internet connection at the hotel has gotten overwhelmed a few times in the last few days.

Secondly, rest assured I am taking a plethora of pictures but due to the slowness of the internet connection, I will not be able to post them until I get back home.

Monday morning we made a trip to the Venezuelan version of our blue or orange big box home building supply, In Venezuela it is called EPA and the logo is a giant creepy looking scorpion. We purchased so many supplies that we filled a Ford Ranger past the roofline.

Much like the big boxes in the states, they did not have everything we needed, so after lunch with the boys at Project Jonas' farm, we drove into downtown to the electrical supply store. Despite having a translator along to assist, I had a difficult time getting anyone to understand what a inch and a half male adaptor was. I resorted to pointing to pieces on display. I finally spotted a listing on the end of a shelf a determined in Venezuela they are called "macho adaptor".

By the time we got back to the farm it was around 3pm, so I focused on some small projects. I replaced a light fixture in the kitchen, replaced numerous burned out light bulbs, managed to get a couple ceiling fans back to working, installed blank plates over some open electrical boxes with live wires, installed two new lights in a couple bathrooms, and a GFI outlet in one bathroom.

After returning to the hotel, we grabbed showers, headed to dinner, had a brief team meeting, and collapsed into bed.

Tueday morning the alarm seemed to go off to early. We drug ourselves out of bed, brushed our teeth with bottled water and headed down to breakfast. The hotel served eggs, plantains, black beans and cut up hot dogs. It was very delicious.

We had a list of additional items needed so we made another trip to Epa and to the electrical supply house then onto the farm. Others on our team were working on digging a ditch for installing a drain field, while others were renovating two bathrooms, and still others were rebuilding closets in the boys rooms.

We began running 200ft of PVC conduit with pullboxes and pulling wiring for a pump or in spanish El Bombo. The pump is pretty important as the city water supply to the farm is only on two hours a day. So the fill huge tanks constructed under a huge rear terrace and then rely on the pump to supply water pressure to fill toilets and run showers. This had been down due to electrical issues for quite sometime.

We reached a stopping point on this work around 4pm, so we went to check on another one of our groups working on constructing an 8 by 10 concrete block enclosure for garbage. They had dug the footers and constructed forms for pouring the concrete slab. When we walked up, they were in the process of mixing concrete on the ground. I had mixed concrete in wheel barrows numerous times working with my Dad growing up, but this was amazing. I grabbed a shovel and began helping mix.
Before long I could not lift a shovel of concrete. More of our team walked up and relieved those of us tiring. After a few hours the whole 8 by 10 slab was poured and looked pretty darn good for hand mixed concrete.
I was very impressed how the boys joined us in all the work we were doing and worked really hard.

We piled into the vans for the hotel where we scrubbed dirt and concrete off our bodies in the showers before dinner. Then another brief meeting and once again we collapsed into our beds totally exhausted.

Wednesday started with a brief trip for souvenir shopping. The market area reminded me of a flea market in the states. We spent an hour or so wondering thru the shops picking up a few items for the folks at home and then made another trip to Epa for supplies.

We arrived at the farm just in time for lunch with was once again amazing local cuisine. I got an interpreter to help me communicate with a couple local volunteers who had been working with me on running the new wiring for the pump. They had just finished connecting it and it worked. Prior to this, the boys had to fill toilet tanks with buckets of water. But now, they once again had water pressure to properly operate toilets.

I checked in on the group redoing the bathrooms and installed a couple blank plates over some wall boxes and packed away my electrical pouch.

We then went down to assist the group working on the trenching job. They had completed the trench and had gravel laid in, so I grabbed the drainage pipe, a saw, and some PVC glue and began assembling the drainage pipe. As we completed a section, some of the group followed behind us and filled with gravel. By the time we were finished we were covered in mud to our knees and completely exhausted.

We hosed off best we could and loaded up for the hotel. After consuming all the hot water at the hotel taking showers, we dressed and headed to the lobby. We were divided into small groups and sent off to have dinner in homes of church members.

Fortunately for us, a spanish teacher in our group accompanied Allison and I. We went to the home of a local couple who were wonderful hosts. The wife had prepared a delicious traditional meal complete with salad and hand made dressing, Carne Asada and rice, and plantains. We all cleaned our plates. She then suprised us with passion fruit dessert and to top it all off she made Venezuelan coffee which was the best coffee I have ever tasted. We enjoyed several hours visiting with their family before heading back to the hotel.

Venezuela - Day 2

2011-06-26T22:13:00.000-05:00

We awoke at 7:30am Sunday and headed to breakfast and had a buffet of scrambled eggs, fried plantains, chopped hot dogs, what looked like really small biscuits. The food was enjoyable and filling. We met for a brief meeting with our team and I gave a devotion and shared with the group a brief description on my life story which was met was gasps. I still get weepy when I recount the struggles I have been through over the years and how God has steadily provided and guided me through it all.

We attended the morning worship service with a Church in Barquisimeto that has partnered with Northpoint Ministries in Alpharetta, Georgia. I was amazed to hear that since they had adapted to what our church campuses have been doing that they have went from around 1,000 people attending their Sunday services to over 6,000 a Sunday. We took a tour of their children's ministries which were packed to the gills with children who were laughing and playing and had huge smiles on their faces. We set in on their 12pm worship service that was all in Spanish. But the worship music was awesome despite the fact I could not understand a single word. The minister delivered a message that was on rescuing the love of your life/marriage and the 2,000 in attendance at this service seemed to be right in-tune with the message.

We were then shuttled to the food court in a downtown shopping mall where I was able to find a KFC and enjoy some fried chicken for comfort food. What is Sunday without fried chicken right?

We left the mall and headed to the farm that hosts "Project Jonas" where we met with the boys who are currently residents at the home and the staff. We found the boys to be loving and likeable and shared dinner with them. I had a chance to make a quick tour of the facilities and make two pages of notes on items that need attention of electrical nature. There is a lot that needs to be addressed and I will need to assemble a shopping list for electrical supplies.

Time to get some rest, we have a good bit of work to start on tomorrow.

-Peace

for more info, check out: http://bensayin.com/globalx

Venezuela Day 1

2011-06-25T03:55:00.006-05:00

Up before the sun. I'm so not this early of a morning person. Dash Transport arrived at 4:10am and we headed out in the darkness to the airport. Much of the trip follows the same route of my daily commute. Funny there isn't as much traffic on Saturday morning as on a weekday. I honestly think there is traffic all hours day and night on weekedays.

We meet up with the rest of our 17 member team for our day of air flight at the airport and fly to Miami then on to Caracas, Venezudeal and then finally to Barquisimeto. I am already tired just thinking about it.

I have packed books for reading, chips, nuts, and jerkey to stave off hunger with extras in my checked bag. In the event of emergency, your seat can act as a floatation device and my backpack can feed you for a week.

Weather guessers are predicting rain. I won't be outside again until 8pm so, ok.

9.29am landed in Miami, found a restaraunt across from the gate that serves pancakes. i'm in like flynn. the waitress saw our shirts and she told us that she was from Venezuela. So we got to tell her where we were going and what we will be doing. Halfway thru breakfast an airline employee walked in and came to our table. He said he saw our shirts walking by and he was from Barquisimeto. He was keenly interested in our trip and what we were going to be doing. He was quite encouraging and a wealth of tips.

When I finished stuffing my face like I might not ever see food again, we rejoined our group at the gate for our flight to Caracass, Venezuela. One of the guys in our group, Kyle, strung up his hammock between a rwo of chairs and a handrail. It was the talk of the gate area. As all the seating was occupied, I set on the floor and while mkaing conversation with our team, a small boy maybe 2 years old rolled a nerf football our direction. I retrieved it from under the seats for him and gave it back to him. He stopped and stared into my eyes for like 30 seconds and then broke into a huge smile. For the next 15 minutes, he would toss the ball my direction. It appeared I had made a friend.

Our flight departed Miami at 11:45am and much to my suprise, American Airlines fed us a hot meal for lunch. The last time I had a meal on an American flight, it was in the 1990s and it was their Bistro bag which tasted like tire rubber. The lunch the served on this trip was quite enjoyable, my hat is off to them.

We landed in Caracass around 3:45pm and was I in for a suprise. The mountains that frame the airport are breath taking. The airport itself is definately different compared to anything I have experienced in the past. It was like an American Flea Market and a regional airport combined. We spend 5 hours in the aiport before catching our final flight into Barquisimeto. We had dinner at the airport the team had an assortment of Arepas some were only cheese filled, some were chicken filled, some were filled with shredded beef. An Arepa is a corn flour tortilla that is puffy and soft unlike the tortilla that you would get in a burrito. The flavor is kind of bland and needs hot sauce in my opinion. There was also a couple bacon pizzas purchased and I have to give it to the Venezuelans, they can do a great number on pizza.

When our flight boarded for Barquisimeto, they did not board by sections like airlines in the U.S. It was just bascially, doors open, loaded 'em up. We arrived in Barquisimeto around 8:30pm, and we were beat. The airport in Barquisimeto reminded me a great deal of the aiport in Albany, Georgia. We were met by an excited and welcoming group from the church who had something I have never seen, 15 passenger KIA vans. They made quick work of loading up the mountain of luggage we had brought and scurried us on to the hotel. The ride was incredible. The roads from the airport to the hotel were 30 miles of twisting two-lanes in each direction. The drivers change lanes multiple times and at times seem like they are practicing for road racing or formula drift. We arrived at a gated and guarded hotel around 9pm and quickly dove into the bed. I am pretty sure I was asleep within 5 minutes of hitting the pillow.

-Peace

for more info, check out: http://bensayin.com/globalx

Why I Ride?

2011-06-21T17:18:00.001-05:00

Its been a long several weeks at work. We have had construction going on in our offices and my team has been busy relocating folks to temporary office space on Thursdays and Fridays and then moving them back to their reconstructed office space on Mondays. This has involved a lot of crawling under desks, moving computers, relocating phone circuits, moving heavy printers, and the like. It has been four weeks of this process, and we have quickly arrived at a point where we do not want to hear the words office and move in the same paragraph let alone the same sentence.

This past weekend was the final phase of the four phase project. But to make the weekend a little more exciting, headquarters also scheduled a phone system replacement/upgrade on Friday as well. So after two days of relocating staff, we then spent Friday night at the office performing a cut over of the office phone circuit and from the old phone switch to the new one as well as swapping out all of the phone sets with new models, testing and verifying functionality.

Fortunately, the phone system work went off without a hitch even though we could not place phones in 14 offices because they were getting painted and re-carpeted and another 10 offices because access was blocked by cubicle furniture parts stacked out of the way for the office construction. We had estimated wrapping up the work at 10pm Friday night, but we were completed by 8pm. So, I was soon headed to the motorcycle parking in the bowels of the building ready for a couple days away from the job.

When I rolled out of the tunnel onto the city street, I quickly realized it had rained maybe an hour earlier and the unbearable heat had been broken by the rain and the temperature was around 74F as opposed to the 94F I had ridden home in all week.

As I began my 42 miles commute home, I could feel myself relax and my shoulders and neck began to lose the stiffness I had felt when I walked out. The cool wind in my face felt invigorating. The longer I rode the better I felt. As I gently weaved my way thru the Friday night traffic I remembered why I enjoy riding motorcycles and why I chose to ride to work. Its not because the bike gets more than twice the fuel mileage that my pickup gets. Its because of how much I enjoy riding a motorcycle. How free and alive I feel as I am rolling through the gears and watching things fly by in my peripheral vision. The smell of the fresh rain evaporating off the roadway, the sounds of everything you pass, the gazes of the people in the cages you pass that seem to be wishing they were on a motorcycle all add to it.

When I walked out of the office door and punched the elevator, I felt worn out like an old leather baseball glove, like I had been rode hard and put up wet. But after an hours ride on Rosie, I rolled into the garage at home feeling refreshed, relaxed, and alive.

I am truly blessed to be able to ride as much as I do and I am grateful.

-Peace

Daring Mighty Things

2011-06-10T16:02:00.000-05:00

Image Source: TruTV

"Far better it is to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered with failure, than to live in that grey twilight that knows neither victory nor defeat." - Teddy Roosevelt

Are you stymied by the fear of failure? Is there a dream that has been knocking around in the back of your head to venture out and attempt something, but you have never took that first step? I want to encourage you to strongly consider pursuing whatever that dream may be. We were not designed with mediocrity in mind.

Never took a motorcycle ride that was more than 3 or 4 hours on a Saturday? Always wanted to go to Sturgis? Time is a wasting. One of the most enjoyable rides I have ever taken was an 8 hour ride to Tampa/St. Pete for work a couple years back. Yes, it was a long time in the saddle, but boy that ocean sure looked good and the salt air smelled wonderful when I arrived.

Ever thought there was a calling on your life for a certain occupation or mission? A couple of weeks ago I caught up with a friend that I did not had a chance to visit with in almost a year. We quickly got catching each other up on what was going on in our lives. I knew that he, his wife, and daughter had all gone on short term mission trips to Africa, so I knew he would be excited to hear that Allison and I were going to Venezuela. When I told him, I was right. He was quite excited, but he surprised me, too. He and his wife both felt a call to serve there full time and have been making plans to quit their jobs and become full time missionaries. Talk about daring mighty things!

We are here a very short time and there is no guarantees how long we will live or that we will die in our old age in our sleep. So, I suggest living life to its fullest. Dare mighty things!

An Overheard Conversation

2011-06-05T12:15:00.000-05:00

Last night, after the sun had started setting and the temperature dropped below 95F, Allison and I took Sadie and Kramer (our dogs) out for an evening walk. At one point, we were walking down a long sidewalk that leads to the neighborhood swimming pool, basketball and tennis courts. Across the street on the other sidewalk were three girls who looked to be about 7th or 8th graders wearing bikinis headed towards the pool. A boy around their age was approaching them. As he got closer, he said, "Hey, where are y'all going?" I thought it a dumb question if one considered the three were bikini clad and their direction of travel was in direction intersection with the community pool. One of the girls responded, "Were going to the pool." In my head, I inserted "Duh Huh". The boy then replied, "Cool, can I come?" The girl responded, "Sure!" He then said, "OK, let me go get my swimsuit." And started off towards his house when one of the girls called out, "Bring two more penises!"

Allison and I stopped dead in our tracks. She asked me if she had really heard what she thought she heard. I confirmed the conversation. She then asked if I thought they looked too young to be in High School. I confirmed they looked to be Middle Schoolers at best. We resumed walking the dogs and after a few minutes of quiet reflection, mentally digesting what we had just observed, our conversation picked up on this generation versus ours.

During training for the volunteer position I am beginning, I have learned a lot about how early kids have begun experimenting with sex, drugs, alcohol, and a gamut of other things in life. I have begun to understand how badly today's kids need positive role models. TV and movies certainly are not providing them. Their peers are not providing them. So, I guess it is up to us.

It is high time for a change in our priorities. It is not all about us. How can we make a difference? What can we do for one that we would like to do for all? What can we do this week to have a positive influence on today's kids?

-Peace

Seasons of Life

2011-06-01T18:30:00.000-05:00

image source: http://www.valdosta.edu/~klflesher/Four_seasons.jpg

As I get older, I have come to understand the concept of the seasons of life. Some interests or passions from earlier years seem to fade and new interests take their place. As I think of what consumed my thoughts and time 25 years ago, I am amazed that I am no longer even casually interested in those things. Those chapters of my life are closed and I move on to new motivations.

Through the 1980s, I was consumed with auto racing. My brother began drag racing and i enjoyed helping him with the car. I followed NASCAR with a passion. I went to truck and tractor pulls and monster truck competitions. I began working as a volunteer crew member on a dirt track stock car team. That led me to building, owning, and driving my own dirt track car. I then spent 10 years racing stock cars and dreaming of breaking into NASCAR as a driver.

At one point when I had put racing on hold to start up my own computer consulting business, my first crew chief moved to North Carolina and landed a job with a small NASCAR Winston Cup team. Through hard work and increasing skills, he worked his way up the career ladder. Today he has a good paying job with a major NASCAR team building race cars.

One night in 2001, around 1am driving 4 hours home from a race, I began to evaluate how much money, time, and effort I had poured into racing and what I had gotten out of it. That night in the quiet darkness of I-75, I decided I was done. When I arrived home, I hung my driving suit in the closet, sold my HANS device, helmet, and driving shoes on EBAY and never looked back. Purchasing a motorcycle and beginning to ride a good bit seemed to adequately replace the enjoyment I had when driving a race car without the endless hours each week to maintain a race car.

About 9 months after retiring from racing, I got an offer to write for a racing news website - SpeedwayMedia.com. I thought it would be a good way to keep myself connected to the sport and improve my writing skills. So I began submitting a weekly article and began to interact with readers who either strongly agreed with my opinions on racing or strongly disagreed. The emails after publication each week were quite interesting at times.

In 2007, I left Speedway to write for InsiderRacingNews.com, where I have been writing ever since. Over the years, I have enjoyed attending NASCAR races with race team guest credentials providing me access to the garage and pit road and providing good background for my weekly articles. Over the last two years, I enjoyed media credentials which provided me access to the garage, pit road, media center, and the press box. So when I was working race weekends, I had access to all of the driver press availability sessions, etc.

Needless to say, I have enjoyed the last 10 years as a racing journalist, but I could feel it coming to an end. After all of the years of wanting to either be at the track for the NASCAR Camping World Truck Series, NASCAR Nationwide Series, and NASCAR Sprint Cup Series races, or sitting in front of the TV for the live broadcasts of those three events each weekend, I suddenly felt the interest draining. Suddenly, it became a task to sit down Sunday night and write a 500 word article on the happenings of the week in racing. I finally realized, I was really done with racing, not only as a driver or crew member, but even as a writer.

So, I submitted my final article this weekend. Something about it seemed like a weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. New interests are calling. Another chapter has closed and another one is opening.

In July, I will begin volunteering as a small group leader with Transit, the middle school program at Browns Bridge Community Church. I am looking forward to mentoring a group of 6th grade boys and hope I can be a positive influence in their lives. This fall, Allison and I will begin serving as small group leaders for a couples small group as well. And, as I have mentioned previously on this blog, we are headed to Venezuela this Summer on a short term mission trip.

Change once was something I met with fear and trepidation. Now, I am embracing it.

A Debt of Gratitude

2011-05-29T11:02:00.000-05:00

We pause on Memorial Day to remember U.S. soldiers who made the ultimate sacrifice, dying in military service. In December 2000, the National Moment of Remembrance Resolution was passed asking all Americans to pause at 3pm on Memorial Day in a moment of silence or by listening to Taps to reflect and honor those who have given their all to protect and defend the freedom of the citizens of the United States.

One Nation Under God

MeanStreet Riders

2011-05-27T16:38:00.000-05:00

As you may have read or heard, there is a new band called MeanStreet Riders on the music scene. They are motorcycle riders who enjoy making music. The band’s “Social Media Publicist”, MeanStreet Mary, asked if I would care to review their pre-release of their debut CD due out in June, and I agreed.

So who are the MeanStreet Riders? Well, according to their biography information, “The MeanStreet Riders rock music group was formed from a group of songwriters that both ride motorcycles and write music about their love of the open road its culture and the freedom it brings.”

Their music is a blend of Southern Rock n’ Roll and modern country. The lyrics are all in the spirit of motorcycle riders true to form. With tunes like “High on the Hawg”, “Kiss it All Goodbye”, “129” (you know – US 129 aka “The Dragons Tale” at Deals Gap, TN), “I’ve had a Good Ride”, “Eye of the Hurricane”, and “Souls of Chrome”, the listener quickly comes away with the impression this is a band that truly lives and breathes V-Twin rumble and the spirit of the open road.

You can get a free download of their music via the following link. Give them a listen.

If I Could Change the World

2011-05-16T18:00:00.001-05:00

"I could change the world,
I would be the sunlight in your universe
You would think my love was really something good
Baby, if I could change the world" - Eric Clapton

(photo source: alabamarockcompany.com)

The evening news parades a host of video footage of the devastation in Alabama after tornadoes ravaged through the area a few weeks ago and the devastation of the Tsunami that struck Japan. We regularly see images of the homeless on the streets of the cities of our nation and the abandoned children around the world who are hungry and without a family to care for them. After a while it all becomes overwhelming and depressing. We cannot change the world and eliminate all the suffering that we continue to see.

We all grew up with teachers telling us things like, "did you bring enough for everyone?", and leaders telling us things like, "If I did that for you, then I would have to do it for everyone." And, we are left with the idea that we have to treat everyone exactly the same. If we invest in one person or group that it is not fair unless we do it for everyone. Leaders are left to feel inadequate because they cannot go the extra mile for one person needing help, because they cannot extend the same level of assistance to everyone they contact. Is it really more important to feel like we are being fair with everyone or it it more important to be working to change something for someone?

How does one change the world? How can we make a difference in the suffering, hurting, loneliness, and devastation?

We can make a difference - one life at a time.

Despite what we have had drilled into our skulls over the years of "it's not fair" and "If I gave this to you, I would have to do it for everyone." We can make a difference one life at a time, one person at a time, one neighborhood at a time.

Invest in one person that you have regular contact with, do for that one what you wish you could do for everyone. Invest in one organization that is making a difference in someone's world. Look around. Find something that is actively making a positive difference and take a part.

What can that look like for you? Volunteering at a soup kitchen? Volunteering at a Nursing Home? Adopting a child? Skipping this year's vacation and going on a short term mission trip? Donating your used car to a single mother instead of trading it in?

"Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good to all people, especially to those who belong to the family of believers." - Galatians 6:9-10 (New International Version)

For more on this subject, I suggest viewing this message:
One, No Everyone

A Hand UP, not a Hand Out

2011-05-13T18:39:00.000-05:00

(image source: http://www.habitat-ncg.org)

An organization that I feel strongly about is Habitat for Humanity International (HFHI). There are a lot of nonprofit organizations in the world doing a lot of great things, but this is one I am strongly behind. Because 95 million people in the United States and according to the United Nations, 1.6 billion people worldwide live in substandard housing, Habitat has dedicated itself to construct decent and affordable housing.

In clean, stable, decent housing:

Families can provide stability for their children.

A family’s sense of dignity and pride grow.

Health, physical safety, and security improve

Educational and job prospects increase.

(source:http://www.habitat.org/how/why.aspx)

Habitat's mission statement is: "Habitat for Humanity works in partnership with God and people everywhere, from all walks of life, to develop communities with people in need by building and renovating houses so that there are decent houses in decent communities in which every person can experience God’s love and can live and grow into all that God intends."
(source: http://www.habitat.org/how/mission_statement.aspx)

One of the first myths I encounter when I talk to people about Habitat, is that Habitat gives away houses. Not so. Every Habitat family buys their house and makes mortgage payments and property tax payments like any other homeowner.

So, how does it work? A Habitat homeowner is required to make a $1,000 down payment, attend 10 monthly education classes on subjects related to homeownership (budgeting, home maintenance, gardening, etc). Additionally, homeowners are required to invest 300 "sweat equity" hours in construction of Habitat houses - 50 hours has to be on their own home.

Habitat provides the homeowner a 30 year mortgage at 0 interest rate and the house is sold to the homeowner at cost - Habitat makes no profit from the construction of the house.

A family selection committee carefully selects families from applicants based on the need for adequate housing, their ability to pay the mortgage, and their willingness to partner with Habitat through volunteer hours.

Donors make the whole operation work. Churches, Civic Groups, Banks, Corporations, small businesses choose to sponsor a home. Sponsorships start at $1,000 and 100% of the funds go directly to the cost of the designated home. Sponsors are then invited to take part in the build alongside of the family.

After participating in several builds over the last 10 years due to employers sponsoring builds, the "sinker" for me has always been the stories the homeowners share at their home dedication. One story that has stuck with me was from a single mother that was in tears relating how excited she was to be a homeowner. She shared that several years before she was in a homeless shelter with her small children wondering what would happen to her family. Now she had a job and a new, clean, stable house for her children. Her children would not have to move schools frequently, and her children had a safe playground where she could allow them to play outside for the first very first time.

For more information on Habitat for Humanity and how you can get behind this great organization's mission, visit: Habitat.org

Project Jonas

2011-05-04T20:08:00.000-05:00

As I previously announced, my wife and I are heading to Venezuela this summer as a part of a mission team assisting Project Jonas, a home for troubled boys in Barquisimeto, Venezuela. Most of the boys chose to enter the home after living on the street and running into all sorts of street life trouble. They range from age 7 to age 16. The workers in the home give the boys a disciplined life style, provide positive role models, and are actively helping them reshape their lives.

While there, we will be working on renovations on the home that they all live in and working with the leaders in the home as well as the boys.

We covet your prayers for the team going down, the leadership of the home, and for the boys themselves.

We have almost reached the halfway mark of the funding we need for this trip. I invite you to partner with us in this journey by contributing. Any contribution however great or small is greatly appreciated and of course is tax deductible.

you may contribute by going to the Globalx website:

GOglobalX.org

click on GIVE on the top right side of the page

Enter your contact info

Under the globalX trip info:
select Venezuela in the Country drop down
select Venezuela Partner Development: Construction 1 in the Trip drop down
Type my name "Allen Madding" in the individual field

Enter your credit card info (Visa and Mastercard accepted)

Click Review Donation Information and finalize your transaction

A confirmation email will be sent to you and will serve as your receipt for tax purposes.

Thanks for your support.

-Peace

A Blogger Centerline Day - ABCD

2011-05-01T15:03:00.001-05:00

OK, it is May 1st, and Gary France put down the challenge for us to participate in the ABCD challenge. The rules were had to be taken May 1st, you had to be in the picture and it had to include the center line of a road.

Well, as it turned out, today was my turn to work on the traffic team at our church, Browns Bridge Community Church. We have two Sunday morning services which draw around 1,200-1,500 per service. Needless to say that is a lot of cars landing on one piece of real estate at one time. So our traffic teams consist of 15-20 volunteers trying to keep things moving. Today just happened to be the rotation on the calendar for our crew, so I persuaded a teammate to snap a picture with my cell phone. It is not the highest quality, but it gets the point across.

Let the games begin.

-Peace

Not Rain!

2011-04-26T19:24:00.000-05:00

As I pulled out of the motorcycle parking at our building to begin my 42 mile commute home yesterday, this is what my windshield quickly began to look like. "Ugh, Rain", I thought. I do not mind riding in the rain. In fact, I carry a set of FrogTogs in my saddlebags for such an occasion. What I do mind is riding in Atlanta traffic in the rain.

(source:http://www.alexandracousteau.org)

Take this traffic, add rain. Mix in quick stops and un-signalled lane changes and you begin to get the idea. As I leave town and proceed northward, the highway loses lanes but the traffic stays the same density.

Fortunately for me, Dan Batemen wrote a very good article on his blog, Musings of an Intrepid Commuter on Friday addressing an issue I have struggled with for several years. I admit it. I have struggled with properly applying the rear brake on a motorcycle. It seems whenever a quick braking situation presents itself, I tend to slide the rear tire with too much brake pressure. Once a couple of years ago, such a situation sent me sliding across the highway on my face. The rear tire lock up was severe it put me into a tank slapper and down I went. With that experience firmly planted in my subconscious, I think "easy on the rear brake" every time I am faced with a quick braking situation, but was still encountering a bit of rear tire sliding be it ever so slight.

In Dan's article, "I got it!!!", he says, "...my answer would be to tell the rider to brace their knees up tight against the tank of the bike. With knees out, the large muscles of the upper leg are pressing down on the brake pedal. By pressing the knees hard against the tank, it both helps keep the rider down in the seat of the bike and forces the smaller muscles of the lower leg and foot into service. Since these muscles are less powerful but capable of receiving greater feedback from what they feel, much more control of the rear brake application is possible."

I had been mentally processing on this recommendation ever since I read it. In fact, I had rode to work practicing pulling my knees into the tank on the bike every time I reached for the rear brake. So, now riding in the rain with traffic as thick as screaming teenagers at a Justin Bieber concert, I set out on the highway with my new rear braking strategy firmly in my mind.

For the first few miles, the rain was light and the road was somewhat dry, but that quickly changed as the rain picked up and the road began to shine with moisture. The tires of the cages ahead of me were making dry tracks in the wet lane, so I concentrated on positioning the bike in the dry tire tracks for maximum traction. I had several opportunities to try applying both front and rear brakes successfully without sliding the rear tire in the slightest even with wet pavement.

Before long, the road was wet enough that the cages ahead of me were no longer making dry tracks in the lane. I made mental note, left more spacing between myself and the cages and continued using Dan's recommended braking technique. Cages continued to make sudden un-signalled lane changes diving in and out of lanes. And the cages ahead of me sped up and suddenly slowed down as is typical in my commute. I manuevered through the "choke point" where the left hand lane of the highway suddenly ends and snarls traffic without issue.

By the time I turned into our neighborhood, the rain had stopped, and I had ridden 42 miles of maddening Atlanta traffic in the rain without locking up the rear tire a single time. The experience bolstered my confidence of riding in Atlanta traffic in the rain. I was mentally exhausted but very pleased with the experience.

Thanks, Dan!

-Peace

Easter

2011-04-24T10:51:00.000-05:00

John 3:13-17 (New International Version, ©2011)

¹³ No one has ever gone into heaven except the one who came from heaven—the Son of Man.^[a] ¹⁴ Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness, so the Son of Man must be lifted up,^[b] ¹⁵ that everyone who believes may have eternal life in him.”^[c]
¹⁶ For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. ¹⁷ For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.

John 20 (New International Version, ©2011)

¹ Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene went to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the entrance. ² So she came running to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one Jesus loved, and said, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we don’t know where they have put him!” ³ So Peter and the other disciple started for the tomb. ⁴ Both were running, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first. ⁵ He bent over and looked in at the strips of linen lying there but did not go in. ⁶ Then Simon Peter came along behind him and went straight into the tomb. He saw the strips of linen lying there, ⁷ as well as the cloth that had been wrapped around Jesus’ head. The cloth was still lying in its place, separate from the linen. ⁸ Finally the other disciple, who had reached the tomb first, also went inside. He saw and believed. ⁹ (They still did not understand from Scripture that Jesus had to rise from the dead.) ¹⁰ Then the disciples went back to where they were staying.
¹¹ Now Mary stood outside the tomb crying. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb ¹² and saw two angels in white, seated where Jesus’ body had been, one at the head and the other at the foot.
¹³ They asked her, “Woman, why are you crying?”
“They have taken my Lord away,” she said, “and I don’t know where they have put him.” ¹⁴ At this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not realize that it was Jesus.
¹⁵ He asked her, “Woman, why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?”
Thinking he was the gardener, she said, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.”
¹⁶ Jesus said to her, “Mary.”
She turned toward him and cried out in Aramaic, “Rabboni!” (which means “Teacher”).
¹⁷ Jesus said, “Do not hold on to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father. Go instead to my brothers and tell them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’”
¹⁸ Mary Magdalene went to the disciples with the news: “I have seen the Lord!” And she told them that he had said these things to her.

³⁰ Jesus performed many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not recorded in this book. ³¹ But these are written that you may believe^[b] that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.

Jesus died. Jesus arose from the dead. Jesus will come again.

Death no longer rules. Sin is finished. You are free from the wages of sin and death. Jesus died in your place as a perfect unblemished sacrifice.

ABCD – Will You Take Part?

2011-04-13T20:27:00.000-05:00

Guest post by Gary France

Maybe you would like to join in with this…..

A Bloggers Centerline Day, or ABCD, will take place on Sunday 1st May 2011.

The plan is to inspire as many bloggers as possible to go outside and take a photograph of themselves on this day, wherever they are in the world. The photo can be creative, arty, contain more than one person, be in any type of location and can contain anything else you like. It must however contain the centerline of a road and at least part of you, the blogger.

There are 5 rules….

Rule 1 – the picture must be taken on 1st May 2011.

Rule 2 – the picture must be of yourself, and you must be a person that publishes a blog. You can include whatever else you like in the picture, including other people if you wish.

Rule 3 – the picture must include the centerline of a road.

Rule 4 – you should publish the picture on your blog on 1st May 2011, along with a few words about the picture and why you chose that location or pose.

Rule 5 – when you have posted the picture on your own blog, put a comment on Gary France’s blog and include in that comment the address of your own blog post containing your own picture.

Gary France will then pick his favourite photos and publish these as being the winners. There will be a prize of $100 awarded to the overall single winner, as chosen by Gary.

In order to get this event known as widely as possible, please copy and paste this posting onto your own blog, including the title. Please do that today!

As a reminder to yourself to take the photo and post it, put an entry into your diary for 1st May 2011.

Let’s see if we can get as any people to join in as possible.

Get Out of Town!

2011-04-06T21:20:00.000-05:00

Listening all week to my wife decompress from the pressures of the end of the month processing at her job, I thought that she needed some downtime without any requirements. And, even if it were for just a day, going out of town would probably be a good idea. So, that is just what we did.

Saturday morning, we hit the interstate and made our way to Chattanooga. It had been several years since we visited the Tennessee Aquarium, and we had heard they had expanded since our last visit.

We recalled the Tennessee Aquarium being a top notch attraction the last time we visited the "River Journey" - the fresh water aquarium. They raised the bar and set a new standard when they built the "Ocean Journey" - the salt water aquarium.

This trip I took our camera and shot over 200 photos. I will resist the tempation to make you endure all 200, but here is a sampling of this great treasure.

River Journey

Ocean Journey

Chattanooga has done and incredible job with the development of the area surrounding the aquarium campus with a variety of hotels and restaraunts within walking distance as well as an IMAX theater. Built on the banks of the Tennessee River, there are even two-hour river boat excursions available.

One of the restaraunts that is with in easy walking distance from the aquarium is Big River Grille & Brewing Works. I have to give them kudos. The service is top notch. The food is unbelievable and for those who like beer, they brew their own.

90 Percenter

2011-03-31T16:16:00.000-05:00

A few years ago when I was running my own computer store in a little town of 5,000, a good friend/mentor was running a auto body shop. One day at lunch, he was describing a dilemma he was dealing with in his business. He began discussing one of his employees by saying he was dependable, hard working, and easy to work around. I could sense the impending "but".

"But", he continued, and he began airing his frustration with the body man's finish work.

The guy could disassemble the car, perform structural repairs, straighten frames, weld, bolt on new body panels, and all the heavy lifting parts of the job. But when it came down to the fine details of bondo or fiberglass, filling, sanding, and preparing to paint, he seemed to come a bit short. The owner said it seemed that "aww, that good enough" seemed to be the sentiment on detail work.

The owner said he spent hours on end showing him the process, sanding, smoothing, test painting, sanding again until it was right. But turn him lose and the car would have obvious high and low spots after being fully painted and clear coated.

The owner then said something that caught me off guard, "I give up. I'm beating my head against a wall with him." I thought for a second he was about to tell me he was going to fire the bodyman. But instead he said,"I have just realized he is a 90 percenter and that is all he is going to do."

After earnestly trying to coach him through the last 10 percent of the process, he had realized it just was not ever going to happen. So why try to continue to fight it? It was not accomplishing anything. It was just frustrating the owner and aggravating the body man. So, the owner decided to let the body man do the 90 percent, and then the owner would finish the job himself.
Are we guilty of being a 90 percenter? Are there areas of life where we decide, this is too much work, I am not going to put a full effort into this, this is good enough. Is an incomplete effort really good enough?

Colossians 3:22-24 says,
Slaves, obey your earthly masters in everything; and do it, not only when their eye is on you and to curry their favor, but with sincerity of heart and reverence for the Lord. Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving.

Can we really be 90 percenters? Is anything we are tasked to do open for just good enough? Are we 90 percenters with our friends? Are we 90 percenters with our families? Are we 90 percenters in our marriages? Are we 90 percenters in our jobs? Are we 90 percenters in our churches?

Funny How Times Change

2011-03-27T19:13:00.000-05:00

For several years, if you went shopping for a motorcycle, the one thing you would not have been offered was a test ride. It was just a non-negotiable due to insurance issues. A few years ago, that began to soften a bit. Harley-Davidson dealers began to have "Demo Days" a couple times a year where they would put out eight or ten bikes and anyone with a valid motorcycle license could take a guided ride on any or all of the selected models.

With the economy tanking and sales of motorcycles at an all time low, test rides have been on a come back. Even Harley-Davidson dealers are advertising test rides and providing scheduling of test rides for potential customers. Harley-Davidson Try a Bike

Victory Motorcycles raised the stakes on test rides recently. Victory Test Ride Victory is making a $100 wager with potential customers. Take a test ride on one of their Victory models, then take a test ride from a competitor. If you buy the competitor's motorcycle, Victory will give you $100. Victory $100 Test Ride Challenge

If you are considering buying a motorcycle, I would suggest taking them up on their offer. They offer some good looking bikes and seem to have impressive performance. And even if you do not think you are remotely interested in buying a Victory, everyone could use $100, right?

Shelter Me

2011-03-23T19:39:00.002-05:00

Struggling

2011-03-22T15:22:00.000-05:00

Over the last couple of weeks, I have talked to friends and family that have been struggling to deal with the events that life has been dumping in the laps as of late. A co-worker who just buried her best friend the weekend before last was at her parent's for dinner last night, and her father had a heart attack.

Another friend is struggling with a son's addiction and pursuing intervention. Another struggling with customers who drop of tons of work but then duck and dodge him when its time to pay and pick up their work. Another dealing with a son debating dropping out of college. The list goes on and on.

At times, we can get caught up in the events of day to day life and begin to feel like its a frustrating struggle. But be of good cheer. Remember what Jesus told his disciples at their last meeting?

John 16:33: “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

There is light just past the darkness, press on through.

-Peace

Good Motorcycle Reads

2011-03-20T14:28:00.001-05:00

So what do you do when it is too cold or raining too hard to be out enjoying riding your motorcycle? Read about motorcycles of course :)

Here are a couple of books I have enjoyed reading over the last couple of years on motorcycles:

Leanings by Peter Egan

In case you have lived under a rock and do not know who Peter Egan is, he has written for Cycle World since 1977. Leanings is a collection of his tales from his failed attempt at a cross-country riding trip on a British Twin to his journey along the abandoned Route 66. Egan sprinkles in his frustrations at motorcycle maintenance. His humor and adventure makes it worth the read.

Leanings 2 by Peter Egan

Another grand collection of stories and adventures from a man who loves motorcycles and playing in a garage band.

The Old Man and the Harley by John J. Newkirk

In 1939, a nineteen year old man sets out on a Harley VL Big Twin to see the New York's World Fair and the San Francisco Golden Gate Exposition. Numerous mechanical issues crop up as do sudden suprises while camping in the woods crossing the United States.

Across America by Motor-Cycle (1922)

In 1929, a British Royal Air Force Captain, C. K. Shepherd set out to ride a motorcycle across the United States. At the time, the interstate system did not exist. In fact, a great deal of the highway system was dirt or gravel roads. Shepherd chronicled his adventure and kept a tally of how many times he had to rebuild the engine on his bike.

This story gives you grand appreciation for the interstate system we enjoy today and the realibilty we enjoy with modern day motorcycles.

These are few good reads that I have enjoyed. How about you? What have you been reading?

How's Your Prayer Life?

2011-03-13T07:00:00.002-05:00

Romans 8:26-27 (NIV)

²⁶ In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans. ²⁷ And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for God’s people in accordance with the will of God.

Psalm 139:1-4 (NIV)

¹ You have searched me, LORD,
   and you know me.
² You know when I sit and when I rise;
   you perceive my thoughts from afar.
³ You discern my going out and my lying down;
   you are familiar with all my ways.
⁴ Before a word is on my tongue
   you, LORD, know it completely.

I cannot begin to tell you how many times I have heard someone decline praying in a small group or in public because they say "I don't know what to say" or they are concerned about their public appearance. A few times I have seen it go so far that a father did not want to pray in front of his young children because he did not know what to say. I am not trying to judge, but I cannot help but wonder at times what their private prayer life looks like when I hear this excuse. Because if not knowing what to say is the real reason that is stopping them from praying aloud, then it may just stop them from praying period.

Do not get me wrong, I can fully understand that speaking to the God that created the heavens and earth, who named all the planets and knows the numbers of hair on my head could be a bit intimidating. But check out what David says in Psalm 139, verse 4: "Before a word is on my tongue
   you, LORD, know it completely."

How cool is it that God knows the words before you even speak them? In actuality he knows the desires of your heart and every thought going through your mind. So if you are praying and stop in the middle of the sentence, he hears that prayer and knows what the thought was. He can complete your sentence!

Now check out Romans 8 verse 26: "In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans."

Check that out! The Holy Spirit helps us in our weakness. If we do not know what to pray, the Holy Spirit will intercede for us using "wordless groans".

That should take a load off your mind when you are wanting to pray and do not know what to say. Because one: God knows what is on your heart, and two: if we do not know what to pray, the Holy Spirit will do it for us.

So relax, no pressure. God created you, He loves you, and He wants to be your friend. And, He wants to hear from you. No pressure!

Jesus said,"Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours." - Mark 11:24 (NIV)

So how do I do it? I pray like I am talking to a friend as we are driving down the road together. It is very conversational.

First I express thanks for the blessings in my life. Not seeing any? Cannot think of any? Slow down and consider, is the sun shining? Do you have food to eat? Do you have people in your life that love and care about you? Are you employed? Are you able to pay your bills? Do you have a dry place to sleep? If so, you have things that you can be thankful.

Then I ask for God's intervention in people's lives. Those I know that are struggling with illness, cancer, loss of love ones, loss of jobs, marriage problems, and other struggles of life. Sometimes I do not know their whole names, sometimes I may not even know a name. But remember Psalm 139:4? He knows who I am thinking about, where I saw them, what the situation is - even better than I do.

Finally, I ask God to use me however he wants to be a blessing to the people I encounter each day, to be a positive influence and an encouragement.

So, how's your prayer life?
-Peace

And Then the Rains Stopped...

2011-03-11T16:00:00.004-05:00

The weather guessers predicted rain this week, so begrudged, I commuted in the cage. One morning it was a deluge and traffic was horrendous, but by the afternoon the sun was out. And to add insult to injury I saw a couple motorcycles on the highway on the commute home. But I was holding on to the prediction that the rain would end Wednesday night and it would be clear, windy, and colder Thursday morning.

WRONG! I awoke Thursday morning to rain beating on the bedroom window. The first thought through my mind was I am not willing to fight metro traffic in this weather on the bike. So another commute in the cage. And again traffic was maddening, a 42 mile drive took and hour and 20 minutes. But at least I had time to pray for friends and family dealing with illness and co-workers suffering the loss of a friend.

This morning it was cloudy and 37F. That was all I needed. A Sweater under my riding leathers, a fleece scarf, and a insulated half mask under my fullface helmet and I was adequately prepared for the cooler temps.

Merging onto the highway seemed so effortless on the bike. Moving thru traffic was easier as well. I always marvel at the difference. Driving the pickup seems so clumsy when compared to riding a motorcycle. The bike has better throttle response, better maneuverability, and heck you feel so in tune with the world, so alive.

Arriving at the office, I could feel a lighter spirit and a smile. Therapeutic commuting I would say.

I stopped to get a cup of coffee before going up to the office and a guy in front of me greeted me. He noted I still had my Joe Rocket jacket on and asked, "Is that your Burgundy bike downstairs?" I acknowledged it was and an enjoyable conversation ensued. He rides dirt bikes and his girlfriends son has bought a 250 street bike and has been riding for 6 months with no license or training. This week the teenager announced he is selling the 250cc bike and buying a 929cc bike. Needless to say this gentleman is trying to convince the girlfriend that this is not the best idea in the world.

I suggested lobbying her to require the young man to attend motorcycle safety class and obtaining a motorcycle license. And, I submitted that a 600cc upgrade should be the next move not a 929. I added the situation to my prayer list as I remember my approach to driving when I was 16 and can only imagine what life would have been like if I had been allowed to have a motorcycle at that point in my life. It is only by the grace of God that I survived my teenage years as it is.

Now That There is a Truck!

2011-03-07T21:51:00.003-05:00

It seems last year Mario Batali hosted a charity event at Texas Motor Speedway in November called "Asphalt Chef" and threw down a challenge to Guy Fieri (you know the Camaro driving guy from Divers, Drive-ins, and Dives).

Well Guy responded accepting this challenge with this video. Apparently Mario Batali likes to wear orange crocs. And, apparently, Guy owns a big truck!

Where to From Here?

2011-03-02T18:09:00.003-05:00

(Image Source: maineguidesupply.com)

Maybe it's because I am approaching the 50 year mark, maybe it is something else, but over the last year, I have begun to assess where I have been over the last 47 years and then started looking ahead.

It is almost like De Ja Voues. I can remember enrolling in college all those years ago and wondering what the heck should I take? What the heck am I going to do as a career? What do I want to do with my life?

At this point, it starts out more like, "What have I done with my life?" and "What would I like to do different?"

I have taken advantage of numerous opportunities over the last 25 years to supplement my education with various courses of study that have continually opened doors along my career path and have prevented me from running into the stonewall of a particular path that was dying away. In the technology world, I have seen that happen multiple times and have been fortunate enough to step over into another path and continue moving.

Right out of college, I was writing compiled BASIC microcomputer programming code and COBOL mainframe programming code. I began to see the handwriting on the wall that PCs would eventually take the place of the bigger systems and began to grab any opportunity to learn more about the connectivity of PCs and assembly and repair.

Eventually I took several Novell networking courses and began to work networking PCs, building PCs, repairing and upgrading PCs.

Microsoft made a full scale assault on Novell, and I began to work in both circles supporting Novell Networks and Microsoft Windows Networks. I managed to take courses on various Microsoft technologies and have since been supporting various Microsoft technologies.

In the midst of all of this, I have sought to find a meaning for my life. Seeking it through my career seems pointless. Every three years, everything I assemble or create gets ripped out and replaced. It is the nature of technology and has been for years. It is just the natural cycle of the industry. Nothing about it has staying power and nothing about it is positively impacting peoples lives.

So, I have volunteered with Kairos Prison Ministry, various motorcycle ministries and with Habitat for Humanity. And this is why I am going to Venezuela this year and why I have applied to volunteer deeper within our church. I want to impact peoples' lives in a positive lasting manner.

I am currently attending night school. I have a general idea where I am going with my supplemental education, but I am still pondering the emphasis. As I ponder the direction of the final 15-20 years of my career, I feel like I am in Statesboro 25 years ago wondering, "What should my major be and what do I plan to do for the rest of my life?"

I am continuing to pray and give careful consideration to these important questions while researching matters.

Have you ever been at a crossroads and had to make these kinds of decisions?

How did you go about deciding the emphasis of your major?

How have you decided your career path?

Venezuela

2011-02-20T16:27:00.002-05:00

The wife and I are heading to Venezuela this summer to participate in a mission trip
with our church. The trip is focused on a home for troubled boys in Barquisimeto, Venezuela that a partner church - Good News Church (Las Buenas Nuevas del Este) supports there. Most of the boys chose to enter the home after living on the street and running into all sorts of street life trouble. They range from age 7 to age 16. The workers in the home give the boys a disciplined life style, provide positive role models, and are actively helping them reshape their lives.

While there, we will be working on renovations on the home that they all live in and working with the leaders in the home as well as the boys.

I invite you to partner with us in this journey. We covet your prayers for the team going down, the leadership of the home, and for the boys themselves.

If you care to support the team with a contribution, you may contribute by going to the Globalx website:

GOglobalX.org

click on GIVE on the top right side of the page

Enter your contact info

Under the globalX trip info:
select Venezuela in the Country drop down
select Venezuela Partner Development: Construction 1 in the Trip drop down
Type my name in the individual field

Enter your credit card info (Visa and Mastercard accepted)

Click Review Donation Information and finalize your transaction

A confirmation email will be sent to you and will serve as your receipt for tax purposes.

Thanks for your support.

-Peace

A Crash Course in Firefighting

2011-02-19T21:11:00.003-05:00

Several years ago, I was living on a small 11-acre piece of land in rural South Georgia. I had went out on my own consulting on Novell networks and performing PC repair. The first few years I worked out of an office at the house and spent the majority of my time around the house.

We lived 15 miles from the county seat, the Sheriff's office, the hospital, and EMS. The county did not have a paid fire service but depended on volunteers. Every time I stopped in at the local country store, the owner would mention that they had a volunteer fire department right next door and would invite me to their weekly meeting.

For month's I declined the offer. Finally, I decided to drop in one night. I got introduced to the regulars, was given the tour of all the trucks and equipment. Many of the our neighbors worked 20 miles away during the day time, so someone in the area during the day was beneficial. Before I left the meeting that night, I was issued a radio and given a call sign. The chief told me if I heard my number called on the radio, answer it quick and be headed to the station to get a truck rolling. "But don't worry", he added, "the regulars will be right behind you."

The next afternoon, I was sitting at the house working on some client work, when I heard some chatter on the radio. Apparently one of the neighboring fire departments in our county was working a garage fire. Suddenly, I heard my number being called. I answered and the dispatcher quickly instructed me to get one of our trucks rolling to back them up.

I pulled on my boots and flew out the door to make the drive to the fire station. As I pulled up, I noticed no one else seemed to be converging on the fire house. The fire chief's wife was walking over from the country store to give me directions to where the fire was in a neighboring community. As I started up one of the fire engines, a younger guy came running up and jumped in the passenger side of the cab. Off we went.

As we made the drive to the fire scene, we monitored the radio activity of the other department. One of the conversations has always stuck in my mind. The Sheriff's office had called them to inquire if they needed additional units for backup. The fireman on scene answered in a panicky voice, "10-4. It's a big, BIG fire." We then heard him tell the dispatcher that he had run out of water and was having to go to the nearest hydrant to refill.

A few minutes later, we rolled up on the scene. Fire was shooting out the roof of an unattached garage/shop building. A Sheriff's Deputy was standing in the front yard watching the scene. Two firefighters were actively fighting the fire and about a dozen neighbors were standing less than ten feet away watching.

I opened a compartment on the truck, pulled out bunker gear and a helmet and suited up. One of our department's veterans drove up in his pickup and got suited up as well. We pulled 1 1/2" hose, fired up our pump, and began to make attack. Suddenly I heard a BOOM and something whizzed about my head. I quickly ducked and turned to see what it was. A gallon paint can had built up enough pressure in the fire to shoot the lid off. It was just enough to make your heart skip a beat. Before I could get settled down from that shock, an air compressor in the shop built up a great deal of pressure in the fire and the pressure relief "pop off" valve released and made a sudden noise followed by wild hissing. It took me a minute to recognize what it was and I began to calm.

I looked around and noticed that prior to the two surprises, the spectators and the Deputy had all been standing practically shoulder to shoulder with me as we were attacking the fire. Now, they were all gone. In fact, I could not even determine where they had all run off to, but they were now out of harms way for sure.

As we moved around the building spraying water on the flames, I suddenly got a little tingle in my hands. The veteran that was on the nozzle quickly shut the nozzle off and tossed the hose and ordered me to not touch the house. We began carefully walking along the hose back to the truck. Halfway back we found a downed power line lying partially submerged in the yard directly below our hose. As we were working around the building, we had unknowingly pulled the hose across this down power line which apparently was live. the outside of the hose sweats a bit of water, just enough to conduct electricity accounting for the tingle we had felt.

So the veteran got on the radio and requested the local power company be dispatched to kill the downed power line. In the meantime, he stated the scene was not safe and we could not proceed until it was.

So we set back away from the power line and the hose and waited. It took around 15 minutes for the power company showed up and killed the power to the down wires. Once they completed their work, we finished putting the wet stuff on the red stuff. Several minutes were then consumed with loading up wet hose, loading up all the hand tools and storing our gear.

We returned to the station, filled the truck with fuel, refilled the water tank, hung the wet hose on the hose drying rack, and loaded dry hose back on the truck.

I had survived my first fire scene with the volunteer fire department and had been given a crash course in what to expect at a live fire scene. For the years since, I can still remember all of the hazards that presented themselves that day. And never to date have I ever encountered that many hazards at one fire scene since. It was definitely a good learning experience and an eye opener.

Back in the Saddle Again

2011-02-15T21:58:00.003-05:00

The title for those of you too young to recognize it is from the song by the same name by Gene Autry. If you need more info: Gene Autry.

After deciding that I had somehow been relocated to the great white north, the mercury started creeping to the upward side of 40F this past weekend and that caught my attention. So, I checked my handy dandy 10 day forecast on the weather guessers website and noted that lows for the week would be high 30s/low 40s and the highs for the week would be in the mid 60s and clear. I then declared I would be riding to work all week.

Monday I awoke to 37F clear and dark. I bundled up including a half mask under the full face helmet and a fleece scarf and set off on my roughly one hour commute. By the time I reached downtown and the motorcycle designated parking at the office, I was energized and glad I had ridden. I had been missing riding the bike for the commute and about tired of winter as it were.

The ride home was even more enjoyable despite the typical aggravation of the afternoon commute. It was 63F sunny and clear. I almost felt like I had snuck a one hour motorcycle ride in.

This morning was almost a repeat of Monday morning, temps and conditions were almost exactly the same. This afternoon's commute was again warm and clear - perfect for enjoying a motorcycle ride. The ride home from my night class was a little chillier but still quite enjoyable.

These unseasonably enjoyable days are supposed to stick around through the end of the week, so I am going to get as much riding packed in while I can before it all goes south again.

Here is hoping you are managing to get a few days of riding in where ever you are.

-Peace

And Then all was Once Again Right

2011-01-29T21:23:00.003-05:00

Just hours after dropping Rosie off at the shop, I received a phone call from the mechanic. It seems during their initial inspection they had determined that the valve stems seals were leaking oil into the combustion chambers. I could hear in my mind the sound of the old manual cash register in the old hardware store I used to frequent in downtown Baconton many years ago - ching ching. But knowing that it would be pointless to attempt to tune the fuel injection system if oil was in the mix as well and knowing that the condition would quickly lead to fouled spark plugs, I gave the go ahead to make the repairs needed to correct that issue as well.

The remainder of the week, I would step into the garage every evening and glance at the empty spot where Rosie should be and think how odd it looked. I would then walk back into the house and think how much the bill would be when the mechanic finished. I remembered a phrase my Dad used to throw out in situations like this when I first started driving and would encounter expensive mechanical repairs with my six year old El Camino, "That's the joys of motoring!" No joy in this town, Pop.

As I was leaving work Thursday, I got the call, Rosie's repairs were complete, and I could pick her up whenever I was ready. I quickly called my wife to see if she was working late or if she could give me a ride out to the dealership. She lightly laughed and said, "You really want to pick it up tonight don't you?" Yeah, she knows me.

After we got to the dealership they hung me upside down by my ankles and a large man shook me relentlessly until every penny had fallen from my pockets. Convinced they had relieved me of everything that mildly resembled currency, they returned Rosie to me.

Before leaving, my wife spotted a new Harley Trike that caught her interest. She has avoided riding with me, because she gets squirrely every time I lean into a turn. Her comment on the Trike was simple, "I could ride on that, it doesn't lean." Nice, I thought, Only $31,000. I pulled out my empty pockets in a universal display of a cashless state of being.

By the time we hit the road home, it was dark and around 30F. I did not mind it in the least. I enjoyed the thirty minute ride on the winding road over the lake. The bike felt great and seemed to have more horsepower and torque than ever.

Friday morning was clear and around 40F, so I rode to work. The scenery was not much, but it was good just to be back on two wheels. And that in itself just made it seem like all was right, even for just a little while.

-Peace

Escaping the Madness

2011-01-24T15:35:00.006-05:00

We managed to get all of our errands completed and headed to Charlotte Sunday for the National Motorsports Press Association awards banquet. The NMPA had activities scheduled both Saturday and Sunday, but our schedule was just so full, we missed the Hall of Fame inductions on Saturday, but at least got to be apart of the media awards Saturday night.

We had not been checked in 30 minutes when we started running into some of the other sports writers that I have met over the years covering the sport of auto racing. Several of the other journalists have past experience racing stock cars or working on race teams. So, the stories that were shared were a mix of things that happened over the last season covering the sport and stories of racing events that we had participated ins and the antics involved.

I was pleased to see Brian Vickers seated a table over from us at the banquet. Brian had set out the 2010 NASCAR Sprint Cup season due to blood clots and medical treatment. When I saw him at Bristol last year, he reported that the doctors were going to have him off of the blood thinners that were being used as a part of his treatment in time for him to obtain medical clearance for competition in the 2011 NASCAR Sprint Cup season. Last week, Brian was out on the track at Daytona performing testing for the Red Bull team. He had his medical clearance and his competitor's license for the 2011 season.

At the banquet, Brian received the third quarter NMPA Speedway Motorsports Spirit Award. And being the classy guy he is, he attended the banquet to receive the award in person. He looked trim and fit and ready to race.

Dinner was a wonderfully prepared steak, twice baked potato and fresh green beans and the portions were abundant.

We were pleased to see several journalist that we know receive awards in the various television, radio, and print media categories and enjoyed all of the stories we heard both from the stage and from the others at our table.

The NASCAR Annual Media Tour in Charlotte started this morning, so a large contingency of Sunday night's crowd was hanging around to take part in the Media Tour this week. We had to return home to work this week, but it was an enjoyable time away.

Tire Stores and Mechanics

2011-01-22T17:16:00.003-05:00

Saturday started much earlier than I would prefer, especially after several nights at work, but sometimes it has to be done. I was at the tire store promptly at 8am to have new tires installed on my pickup and to have the alignment checked. I got out of there two hours and several hundred dollars later.

Since installing the new true duals on Rosie, I had noticed it was trying to burn the chrome off the heat shield coming out of the back head. This indicated a lean condition to me and meant only one thing, ground the bike until I had a chance to take it to the mechanic to re-tune the EFI and a trip on the dyno.

So, when I returned home with breakfast after the tire store, I told my wife that I thought today was a good opportunity to drop Rosie off for the re-tune work. So, after eating our biscuits and drinking coffee, I backed the truck to the driveway and set up the ramps. But when I flipped the ignition on Rosie and pressed the starter button, it was suddenly apparent that the freezing temperatures of winter had finally zapped the six year old battery. The starter spun over slowly and then the selonoid made the "death click" sound. As I put the sidestand back down, I recalled the battery episode with the UPS system at work.

On the bright side, it gave up its last breath at the house when I was already headed to the bike shop as opposed to 42 miles away from home after work someday.

My wife and a neighbor offered to help load the bike on the pickup. I dug a come-a-long out of the garage and a chain. I used the chain to make an anchor point in the bed of the pickup and then hooked the come-a-long to it. I then used a web strap around the engine guard on Rosie and began to manually winch her up the ramp. All was going well until Rosie's front tire broke over the top of the ramp onto the tailgate and everything stopped. The web strap on the engine guard was to high a point and as we were winching, it was pulling slightly down and forward. Once the front tire reached the tailgate, the frame wedged on the ramp. Trying to winch further wedged it down more.

Unfortunately, I could not let go of the bike in this position as it would simply topple over. So while I kept Rosie sitting upright, my wife set off to the neighbor's house who has a Harley who I have helped a few times, but alas he was not home. But on her way back she talked with a couple and their teenage daughter who were about to crawl in the minivan and convinced them to lend a hand.

I pointed out another come-a-long in the garage to the neighbor, and we got it hooked on the other side of Rosie on a mount under the footboard. Winching this one took pressure off the first come-a-long which we then unhooked and cast aside. With four women pushing up and forward and the new anchor point for the come-a-long, Rosie rose up off the edge of the ramp where she had been wedged and walked into the pickup bet perfectly.

I heaped praise and gratitude on all the neighbors for their help, and they headed off to soccer practice. I put up all the chains and come-a-longs and retrieved the web straps and secured Rosie in the bed of the pickup. I looped to ratcheting straps on the neck of the frame and anchored them in the front corner bed loops in the pickup. I then snugged up two adjustable web straps at the back anchored off rear frame and the rear pickup bed loops and then tightened down the front straps.

After a 45 minute ride to the service shop, I met with a service writer to discuss what I needed. I was surprised when there was some reservation at whether or not they could tune with the Screaming Eagle system on the bike as it was sold to me with it already installed and was an authentic HD piece. They explained that HD had since replaced that unit with a newer one and the new computer that they had only worked with the new system. I quickly explained I was not interested in spending $489 for a new tuning system, just an adjustment to the one already on the bike. Some discussion was done in the back shop for several minutes. When the service writer returned, he had better news. One of the mechanics has the old system installed on a laptop and could tune my 6 year old tuning system. So we were back to having the EFI tuned for the new headers and the previous slip-on Screaming Eagle mufflers and installing a new battery.

While we were at it, I asked them to install the Clutch Assist upgrade kit offered two years after my bike was manufactured. If you get a chance, squeeze the clutch on a 2005 FLH and then squeeze one on a 2007 or newer. The difference is huge. And, if you commute in insane traffic where there is stop and go and lots of clutch squeezing, you will appreciate this upgrade. I had said back when I bought Rosie that I was going to have this installed one day and since they did not try to make me buy the new tuner pack, today seemed like a good day.

To reward my wife for her laborous efforts getting the bike loaded with a dead battery, I took her to the dealerships soft goods and bought her a warm shirt of her chosing. Now I just need to get a small gift for the neighbors.

Farewell Electra Glide in Blue

2011-01-17T15:58:00.003-05:00

For those who have not heard, I am sad to report that Jeff Mashino, author of the blog "Electra Glide in Blue", lost his struggle to overcome cancer. I had followed his blog post for quite sometime and was fascinated by his mechanical know how and appreciation for old Harleys, especially one particular 1968 FLH.

I never had the opportunity to meet, Jeff, and I feel that it is my loss. He was the kind of guy I would have liked to have had for a neighbor. Someone I could have learned a great deal from in a short time.

Rest in Peace, Jeff. You will be missed.

How Could Five Inches of Snow Shut a City Down?

2011-01-13T21:40:00.003-05:00

For those of you wondering why five inches of snow followed by a day of sleet and a week of freezing temperatures brought Atlanta traffic to a halt. This video clip of Peachtree ST. tells a pieced of the tale:

The weather guessers predicted that we would get a heavy snow on Sunday night/Monday Morning, and then we would be battered with freezing rain/sleet and temps in the 20s and teens.

Well, they were spot on with their prediction. It began snowing before midnight and by Monday morning we had five inches of snow. By sunrise, the sleet was coming down so hard it sounded like some one was throwing gravel at the windows of the house.

The roads and highways ended up with a solid sheet of ice about 3/4 of an inch to an inch thick. So all the schools cancelled school on Monday and all of the businesses told their employees to stay home. The Georgia DOT requested everyone stay off the roads and tried to ask truckers to avoid Atlanta. That went over like a rotund gentleman trying to pole vault. Within 24 hours there were sections of I-75, I-85, I-285, I-20 and GA 400 littered with wrecked cars and jack-knifed semis.

Tuesday came and again schools and businesses cried "Uncle" and everyone waited for the DOT to get the roads cleared. I-285 was closed below I-20 due to the amount of ice and the amount of jack-knifed semis making it impassable. DOT could not try to remove the ice until the semis were removed. Estimates of hundreds of semis stranded on the ice were reported on the news.

Wednesday came with the schools once again taking a pass, but many business elected to open with delayed hours calling their employees in around noon. For many, this would be their first venture out on the roadways around the city since Sunday evening.

My commute typically takes one hour, so I set out two hours early to provide plenty of time. Before setting off, I made certain I had a full tank of fuel, a pair of hiking boots, and some extra clothing along for the trip in case of trouble.

The first 15 miles looked promising as both of the south bound lanes of the highway were clear and traffic was moderate pacing a good 20 mph slower than the posted speed limit. But then at the county line, the condition of the highway quickly changed. Suddenly one lane was basically clear and the other lane 3/4 plowed. Then it would go to just tire tracks instead of a plowed lane.

When we arrived at the section of the highway where it widens to four lanes going south, one lane on the far right and one lane on the far left were plowed while the two center lanes were still five inches thick covered in a hard ice shell. The far left lane routinely would go from being plowed wide enough to drive with left and right wheels on hard asphalt to rigtt wheels on asphalt, left wheels bouncing over varying heights of the snow/ice mixture.

All along the route were abandoned vehicles on the shoulder of the road. Some were damaged, some were not. There were pieces of bumper covers sitting just off the edge of the path of traffic to break up the color scheme of the snow.

My typical one hour commute took all two hours I had allotted. Many of my co-workers depend on public transportation to get to work. They quickly discovered that the MARTA train system was running but the buses were not. That prevented many from answering the return to work call on Wednesday. Those that did make it in reported similar road conditions on I-75 and I-85 to my highway experiences.

Today, the schools once again took the pass option and announced, they would just wait and resume school Tues after MLK Day. Many businesses returned to regular scheduled hours. Meantime the Georgia DOT is still saying, "If you do not have to be on the roadways, please stay home."

Surprising to some, absolutely nothing had been done to the highway this morning compared to Wednesday morning. Many thought the plows would have been out Wed night/Thurs morning to improve the roads for the exponential growth of commuters being called back to work. But apparently, Georgia DOT had other ideas. My co-workers reported that the interstates had not had any additional plowing or additional lanes re-opened compared to Wednesday as well.

The weather guessers are calling for temps above freezing on Friday (in the 40s for the high), so maybe DOT is just waiting for mother nature to fix the problem.

Having worked projects in Michigan in the dead of winter and having visited Kansas in the dead of winter, I happen to know that proactive treatment of roadways, plowing the snow off and spreading sand/salt mixture prior to the sleet/Freezing rain typically prevents the mess we have seen this week. But, the head of Georgia DOT has stated on the news that it was a huge storm and no one could predict it, except every weather forecaster on every news channel did predict it. And, he says that his department has done an exemplary job of keeping the roadways clear. I wonder what roadways he has in mind.

I suggest to anyone who currently works for a state DOT that maintains winter roads in a section of the U.S. that regularly receives snow and ice conditions during winter to contact the Georgia DOT and offer your consulting services. I would think you could make good money.

The Ever Evolving Budweiser Shootout

2011-01-10T21:02:00.004-05:00

In 1979, Anheuser-Busch launched the Busch Clash as a non-points race of all of the previous season’s Busch Pole winners in the NASCAR Winston Cup Series. The format of the race changed several times over the years. Originally it was a 20-lap “winner take all” prelude to Speedweeks at Daytona. In 1991, it was changed to two 10-lap segments. In 1998, they changed it to a single segment 25-lap event. After all, it had worked just fine for 11 years as a single segment event.

Anheuser-Busch re-evaluated their involvement in NASCAR for the 2001 season. In the face of rising sponsorship costs and economic pressures, the company elected to not renew as the title sponsor of the Busch Series leaving NASCAR scrambling to secure a new title sponsor for its minor league division. At the same time, Anheuser-Busch made the decision to market its most prominent product line, Budweiser, in NASCAR replacing Busch Pole awards with Bud Pole awards and renaming the Busch Clash the Budweiser Shoot Out. The Shoot Out format was again changed this time to a 70-lap event. In 2003, it was changed again to two segments: 20 laps and then 50 laps. Why? No one really seems to know.

Somewhere along the way, the drivers eligible for the Shoot Out started changing as well. In 2002 the Shoot Out field was up to 22 drivers, the largest in its history. In 2009, Anheuser-Busch did not choose to continue sponsoring the weekly pole awards and Coors picked up that spot. So Anheuser-Busch decided to change up the roster for the Bud Shootout even more. The mix continues to change from rosters of drivers from all manufacturers to whatever the good folks at Anheuser-Busch dreams up next.

This year the Budweiser Shootout at Daytona field will consist of:
1. The 12 drivers that qualified for the 2010 Chase for the NASCAR Sprint Cup
2. Past NASCAR Sprint Cup Series champions
3. Past Budweiser Shootout champions
4. Past Daytona 500 and Coke Zero 400 Powered By Coca-Cola champions
5. NASCAR Sprint Cup Series Rookie of the Year drivers from 2001-2010

With those criteria in mind, here are the drivers eligible to compete in the 2011 Bud Shootout at Daytona:

Jimmie Johnson (qualified for the 2010 chase)
Denny Hamlin (qualified for the 2010 chase)
Kevin Harvick (qualified for the 2010 chase)
Carl Edwards (qualified for the 2010 chase)
Matt Kenseth (qualified for the 2010 chase)
Greg Biffle (qualified for the 2010 chase)
Tony Stewart (qualified for the 2010 chase)
Kyle Busch (qualified for the 2010 chase)
Jeff Gordon (qualified for the 2010 chase)
Clint Bowyer (qualified for the 2010 chase)
Kurt Busch (qualified for the 2010 chase)
Jeff Burton (qualified for the 2010 chase)
John Andretti (Coke Zero 400)
Geoff Bodine (Daytona 500, Budweiser Shootout)
Kevin Conway (Series rookie of the year)
Derrike Cope (Daytona 500)
Dale Earnhardt Jr. (Daytona 500, Coke Zero 400, Budweiser Shootout)
Bill Elliott (Series champion, Daytona 500, Coke Zero 400, Budweiser Shootout)
Kasey Kahne (Series rookie of the year)
Bobby Labonte (Series champion)
Terry Labonte (Series champion, Budweiser Shootout)
Joey Logano (Series rookie of the year)
Sterling Marlin (Daytona 500, Coke Zero 400)
Mark Martin (Budweiser Shootout)
Jamie McMurray (Daytona 500, Coke Zero 400, Series rookie of the year)
Juan Pablo Montoya (Series rookie of the year)
Ryan Newman (Daytona 500, Series rookie of the year)
Ken Schrader (Budweiser Shootout)
Regan Smith (Series rookie of the year)
Michael Waltrip (Daytona 500, Coke Zero 400)

Now who is missing? The drivers that qualified on the pole for Sprint Cup races last year that did not meet any of this new criteria:
A.J. Allmendinger
Martin Truex, Jr.
Brad Keselowski
Elliott Sadler

It seems that Anheuser-Busch had a good thing going with the Busch Clash or Bud Shootout. It was something that gave the pole winners of the previous year to look forward, a little something more than the cash bonus for winning a pole, and it gave something for the fans to enjoy after a cold raceless winter. Once they dropped the weekly pole awards, the Bud Shootout was an orphaned race with no real identity. None of the driver eligibility changes in the last seven years have made it a better race. They have only made it more confusing for drivers and fans trying to keep up with it over the course of a season to know who is eligible for the next season’s Shootout. It seems that it is change for the sake of change. Why not announce the criteria for the 2012 Shootout and announce it before the green flag drops for the Daytona 500 and then leave it alone.

Making a Mustang II Fly

2011-01-06T18:50:00.002-05:00

In 1997, I had been out of racing for a while as I had ventured out on my own to start a computer networking consulting service which turned into a full blown computer store. But once you have spent a couple seasons behind the wheel of a stock car on a short track, the urge to get back in one is pretty heavy. One of my racing buddies called and had a proposal. He and his father both raced ministock 4 cylinders and they somehow ended up with a third car, a Mustang II with a 2000cc four cylinder. They were wanting to sell the car and knew a race car does not sell sitting on jackstands in someones yard. It needs to be seen making laps at the race track. So, they asked me to race it until it was sold. It sounded like a good idea as I only had to pay for fuel and occasional tires. At the time, the rulebook called for street radial tires which I could pick up used at a reasonable price.

The first night at the track, I looked the car over. It looked like the roll cage was of safe construction, but was just a basic cage. I would prefer it to have legs running into the trunk area and under the hood, but it was just a basic cage in the driver compartment. The seat looked to be safely mounted and the safety belts were attached to the roll cage correctly. The car had seen plenty of action. It was blue from the firewall back. The front fenders and hood were white which told me the front end had been replaced after some serious action in the past. most of the sheetmetal showed signs of being "re-formed" with a couple of ballpean hammers. Further inspection of the interior revealed that who ever "hulled the car before installing the roll cage did not know how to put a car on a diet. In racing, you want to remove as much secondary sheetmetal from the stock body to get it as light as possible. You then build a strong substantial roll cage which gives the car its weight and strength. Someone had simply pulled out the interior but did not cut out the secondary metal. This car was going to be slow because it was overweight.

The blue and white colors and the No. 2 on the car loosely resembled the blue deuce that Rusty Wallace raced for Penske Racing. And about 20 feet away, it did not look too terribly bad. And the folks in the grandstands could not get closer than about 20 feet so, it worked out ok.

When the track steward called for the ministocks to take to the track for practice laps, I elected to not run the first few laps at full speed. Instead I elected to make a few laps at partial throttle to feel the car out. The first time through the turns the car demonstrated a significant amount of "push" or understeer, which means, you let of the accelerator, turn the steering wheel left, and the car continues going straight. Pump the brakes lightly, tug on the steering wheel a bit more, and it would eventually make it through the turns without flying off the top of the track. I made a mental note that the car was probably front heavy and needed more rear percentage. We would need to put it on the wheel scales next week and see how we could move some weight.

Once I knew how the car acted in the turns, I put the power down coming out of the turns and made a few laps with the accelerator firmly on the floor. I started setting a decent pace and continued to figure the best corner entry to deal with the car's push tendency.

Coming out of Turn 2, I noticed one corner of the hood was beginning to flap. Odd, maybe one of the hood pins was not clipped in good. The next lap, I heard a noise, and suddenly the hood flew back over the windshield completely obstructing view. I moved my head a bit to the center of the car and down a little, just enough to see through the cowl of the hood. I was able to slow the car and limp it to pit road for some assistance. A buddy of mine from my local volunteer fire dept, snatched the hood off, and I returned to the track for a few more laps.

When practice was over, we went to work on resolving the hood problems. I discovered that the hood pin clips had not come lose. In fact they were still clipped to the hood pins which were still in the hood. Unfortunately, the hood pins were no longer welded to the car. The welds had broken loose because who ever had welded them had not gotten a good penetration where they had welded to the body work. We did not have a welder at the track, so I pulled out a dozen bungee cords from the trailer and two rolls of duct tape. We taped the hood to the fenders then ran bungee cords from fender well across the hood and to the other fender well in two different locations. We then duct taped the bungee cords to the hood and fenders.

When I went back out on the track for the heat race, the car had the appearance of a giant seagull. the hood and fenders would swell with speed and airflow under the hood. When I let off the accelerator to enter the turns, the bungee cords would draw the hood back down and the fenders back into the car. After a while, it was comical to watch.

Due to the car's poor handling and low budget motor, we lost sight of the leaders in a few laps, but it beat sitting at home watching television.

Over the next few weeks, I put the car on a significant weight loss program with a Milwaukee sawzall and a air operated cutoff wheel. After properly removing the secondary metal out of the roof, doors, quarter panels, hood, fenders, firewall, and trunk, I then starting bending additional roll cage tubing to make the roll cage more of a chassis component with two legs running off the back of the main hoop and into the trunk area to plating welded above the rear subframe construction. Two legs were added under the hood running parallel to the front subframe construction and turning down to plating welded just behind the radiator. Additional door bars were added for safety and a "Petty bar" was added from the center of the horizontal bar behind the driver's shoulder to the bottom of the A=Pillar bar on the passenger side to overcome the stock unibody construction's flexing when cornering at high speed on a left hand circle track.

We then put the car on the wheel scales and began to get it back to minimum weight requirements by adding bolt on ballast while at the same time carefully locating the ballast to achieve the proper rear percentage to correct the push tendency. The battery was relocated from its stock location under the hood to the trunk area to help increase rear percentage as well.

As we were required to compete on radial passenger tires, we did some experimenting with air pressures with the car sitting on the scales. We made notes on how much the weight at each corner of the car changed when adding or subtracting one pound of air pressure. This proved to be a very effective means of adjusting the car at the race track.

During all of this work, one night I made the comment to my friend that I was going to make this old Mustang fly.

As the season went on and as we continued to rework the car, it began to handle better and better and became pretty competitive. Without any work to the engine, I started coming home with top ten finishes. Late in the season, I got a deal on a virtually new stock 2300 Ford Ranger engine. I had some work done to the head and ordered a racing camshaft for it. My brother put it back together with a completely stock bottom end. When we took it out with the new motor configuration, the car started finishing in the top five.

At the end of the season, East Alabama Motor Speedway always holds the "East Alabama State Championships" which pays considerably well and draws hundreds of race cars. We elected to take our chances and take the blue deuce to Alabama for the event and see how it worked out.

When we went out for practice laps, I made a few laps as hard as possible to find my rhythm. The track was fast and I could almost run the car flat footed (almost make an entire lap without lifting off the accelerator). I then began to coast and let another car pass me, and then fall in behind them to see how we compared. After a few minutes, I figured we were in the 20 fastest cars of the 50 or so that were there for the ministock division.

During our qualifier event, I was closing in on the car riding in the last qualifier position. He suddenly bounced off the wall, crossed the track and hit the blue deuce in the right front corner. After the contact, the car started to push in the turns which indicated to me that he had bent a tie-rod end on our car ruining out toe-out setting. Our laps times suffered due to the push, and another car overtook us in the closing laps. I would have to qualify in the consolation race or the "consi" on Sunday to make it in the show. If I did not make it in the show, we would not collect any purse money. No Show, No Dough.

The next morning, we disassembled the right front suspension and found the bent rod end. We located a local auto parts store and purchased a replacement. We repaired the car, reset the front suspension settings and were ready to go.

When the Consi started, I had a singular focus. Pass as many cars as possible and get a transfer position for the show. At some point in the race, I was passing a car going into turn three. At East Alabama, you do most of the passing on the top side of the turns. I had my left front tire at the center of the other car's passenger door when another car attempted to pass me on my right side going into the turn. Unfortunately for all three of us, there was not that much room. The outside car hit our car in the area between the rear quarter panel and the rear edge of the passenger door. The contact forced me into the side of the car I had been passing which glanced our car off to the right flipping the car off the top of the race track.

At East Alabama, the top of Turns three and four are about 30 feet above the ground behind the track. So, when the car went off the top of the track, all I could see was blue sky and the tops of pinetrees in the distance. Things seemed to go into slow motion for a bit. I decided that if I had my feet on the brake and clutch, I could get my legs broke when it hit the ground. So, I moved my feet as far back under the front edge of the seat as I could. I pulled my elbows in tight to the edge of the seat as I could and braced my chin against my sternum and held on tight.

The car hit the ground with the passenger side tires and bounced back into the air showering clods of red clay as it hit. The car then hit on the passenger side tires again. I thought it was going to roll over on the roof, but it bounced in the air again and again slammed down on the right side tires. This time the car stopped and it was raining red clay clods. I loosened my grip on the wheel and began to slowly catch my breath when another car slammed into the driver's door. My vision narrowed and I felt light headed for a few minutes. Finally everything stopped and I began to take inventory of myself. I still had narrowed vision and my thighs were hurting pretty good.

A firefighter approached the car and started talking to me. He looked me over, took a pulse and asked me to sit still for a few minutes. After my pulse rate simmered and I convinced him I was not going to pass out, he let me crawl out. I heard a hissing sound climbing out the window and noticed the valve stem had been knocked out of the left rear tire. I reached in and kicked the car out of gear and pushed the starter button, but the engine would not turn over. It acted like the motor was locked up. They called for a tow truck and I walked around the car to survey the damage. The driver's door had to large gashes cut in it and the right front corner looked to be sitting too low.

I hobbled to the fire truck to hitch a ride back to the pits and our trailer. My elbows were hurting pretty good where they had been beating on the fiberglass racing seat during the crash. My thighs were hurting pretty good from beating against the drive shaft tunnel on one side and against the roll cage door bars on the other side. I took a goody powder, rubbed some icy hot on my aching shoulders, and set down in some shade with a Gatorade.

I was pretty dejected because I thought we had a good chance at making it into the show with the blue deuce, but it just was not meant to be. My buddy came over and said, "Well, you lived up to what you said you were gonna do."

"How's that", I asked?

"You said you were gonna make this old Mustang fly", he replied.

I guess I had.

Book Review: Start Something That Matters

2011-01-03T17:01:00.001-05:00

Start Something That Matters
by Blake Mycoskie

After starting his fourth start-up, twenty-nine year old Blake took some time off to travel Argentina. It changed his world view. Two things resulted from his trip. One, he was taken with the national shoe - the apargata and two, he was impacted with the amount of children who were shoeless.

He launched the for-profit company, TOMS ("Tomorrow's Shoes"). The company operates on the principal that for every pair of shoes it sells, it donates a brand new pair to a child in need. He launched the company out of his apartment and worked with shoemakers in Argentina to produce the shoes he found in Argentina with improved soles and inner soles.

The company took off and has made a major impact on the world staying true to its original mission. He encourages the rest of us to find what we are passionate about and change the world around us for the better.

The book opens with a couple chapters telling the TOMS story. The remainder of the book tells how to find your passion and how to begin impacting the world from a very simple start to a major impact.

I found this book very encouraging, and I recommend it to everyone.

Last Day of the Year

2010-12-31T16:19:00.007-05:00

Today was a great day to carry the Christmas tree to the chipper, take down all the outside lights and wreaths and pack away all of the Christmas decorations for next year. Then there was the task of vacuuming up all of the fallen needles from carrying the tree out of the house. Several other chores popped in my mind as I worked. And I did not mind working outside because after weeks of 20 degree weather, it hit 61F.

But at the same time, the 61F weather made me wanna go for a motorcycle ride. I really did not care where or for how long, just to get a little time in on such a beautiful day. So, I took a break for lunch, fired up Rosie and set course for Dawsonville via two lane twisty blacktop. Mind you it was just a 15 mile trip to Burger King, but it was therapy to my soul after enduring cold winter weather with wind for the last several weeks. I donned the half helmet intentionally so I could enjoy the smells of chicken houses, cow pastures, pig pens, and all the other things that nature provided.

The burger was good, the ride was better, and when I got back to the house to knock out a few more errands, I was in an even better mood that when I awoke to a 60 degree day in the middle of winter.

In years gone by, I would have wanted to plow through the chores in my mind and try to get as much work done while the sun was up without considering any time to enjoy life. But one thing I have learned through the lives of others in the last few years, is to make time in my schedule however hectic it is, for a few minutes of enjoying life. That has a lot to do with why I commute on the bike as much as I do.

I managed to get everything accomplished that I wanted to do today and had time for an enjoyable time on the North Georgia two lane roads. And, I am really glad I made the time.

Ride Safe!

Happy New Year!

-Peace

I Want to get my Motorcycle License

2010-12-27T17:11:00.005-05:00

First day back at work after the Christmas Holiday. Probably one-third of our staff was on hand, the rest were using vacation time to lengthen their holiday. So there was a little less hussle and a little more time for conversation. One conversation with a co-worker started something like this, "I want to get my motorcycle license, so I guess I need to buy a motorcycle first."

It dawned on me that I have been in a conversation that started like this several different times over the last few years. I am somewhat surprised every time I hear this thought and am always quick to alter the thinking slightly.

"No, I would recommend getting your license first", is my typical response. This usually is met with wide eyes. I then explain that I would recommend doing what I did. Attend a Riders Edge course or a MSF RiderCourse. Many rider training courses provide the motorcycles for the students. So, first time riders can learn to ride without a significant investment. The cost of the course runs around $275 and the student is responsible for supplying their own helmet.

Why do I suggest taking the rider's course before buying a motorcycle? If you buy a motorcycle before you have a license, you are going to ride it. Without sound instruction, chances are, you are going to pickup some bad habits, and even more likely, you are going to ride it on public streets and roadways (in violation of the law). And in the chance that you wreck it while riding without a license, most insurance providers will not pay a cent for damage caused by an unlicensed rider.

So why not get that initial exposure to a street bike in a controlled environment with someone coaching you through the right and safe way to ride while at the same time getting prepared for the written and riding exam. At the end of the course, you get to sit for the written exam (which you have been properly prepared for) and then you get to take the riding exam (which you have been practising for).

The course I took was painless, two week nights, a Saturday, and a Sunday and you were done. Advanced courses are available to fine-tune your riding skills and are always a good idea.

Just my two cents, but it sure seems like the best approach to me.

-Peace

Christmas

2010-12-24T09:46:00.002-05:00

About that time Caesar Augustus ordered a census to be taken throughout the Empire. This was the first census when Quirinius was governor of Syria. Everyone had to travel to his own ancestral hometown to be accounted for. So Joseph went from the Galilean town of Nazareth up to Bethlehem in Judah, David's town, for the census. As a descendant of David, he had to go there. He went with Mary, his fiancée, who was pregnant.

While they were there, the time came for her to give birth. She gave birth to a son, her firstborn. She wrapped him in a blanket and laid him in a manger, because there was no room in the hostel.

There were sheepherders camping in the neighborhood. They had set night watches over their sheep. Suddenly, God's angel stood among them and God's glory blazed around them. They were terrified. The angel said, "Don't be afraid. I'm here to announce a great and joyful event that is meant for everybody, worldwide: A Savior has just been born in David's town, a Savior who is Messiah and Master. This is what you're to look for: a baby wrapped in a blanket and lying in a manger."

At once the angel was joined by a huge angelic choir singing God's praises:

Glory to God in the heavenly heights,
Peace to all men and women on earth who please him.

As the angel choir withdrew into heaven, the sheepherders talked it over. "Let's get over to Bethlehem as fast as we can and see for ourselves what God has revealed to us." They left, running, and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby lying in the manger. Seeing was believing. They told everyone they met what the angels had said about this child. All who heard the sheepherders were impressed.

Mary kept all these things to herself, holding them dear, deep within herself. The sheepherders returned and let loose, glorifying and praising God for everything they had heard and seen. It turned out exactly the way they'd been told!

Luke 2 (The Message)

Merry Christmas!

A Word From my Nerd Side

2010-12-17T21:10:00.006-05:00

For those of you own, utilize, depend on, or are responsible for an Uninterruptible Power Supply (UPS), let me strongly recommend that you either have a vendor check the internal batteries at least once a year.

Why ,you ask? Well despite looking at the indicator lights on the outside of the UPS and seeing that it is properly charging, there is a lot about batteries that you cannot easily detect without visually inspecting the batteries. Most, if not all, UPS systems have the batteries mounted inside a metal housing preventing a casual glance.

Ever paid much attention to a car battery? UPS batteries have a lot in common with automotive batteries in that after many charge cycles, they will begin to fail. One of the external signs you can detect just by looking is that the plastic casing of the battery swells and becomes deformed.

Sorry the picture is not my best, but yes, that battery has a big lump on the top side. And yes, that is one of several the service technician found while performing a visual inspection of the internal batteries in a moderate sized UPS system. A battery that has deformed like that has become unstable and undependable. A more dramatic failure is on the way.

Another item of concern that only a visual inspection will provide is corroded terminals.

Yes, that is one of about 16 batteries inside one external battery cabinet for a UPS system, and that is what the service technician found when he opened the cabinet to visually inspect the batteries. The corrosion was so severe that the battery post had separated from the battery itself but was still bolted tightly to the battery cable.

How much power would that provide in the event utility power was lost and your computer room or dispatch center were to flip over to the UPS system for power?

Leaking battery acid is another item that can be found during a visual inspection of internal batteries. Most UPS systems have a drip tray under the battery racks to prevent battery acid from reaching the floor of an equipment room or computer room, so you will not see it if the cover stays in place.

UPS battery maintenance has to be one of the most overlooked items in the technology arena. For some reason a lot of people have a mistaken notion that they can purchase the UPS, have it installed, and forget about it. We all know that does not work with car batteries. They usually die somewhere between 3 and 5 years. Well, guess what? Yup, UPS batteries have a 3 to 5 yr expected life span as well.

Over the years, I have observed some of the pitfalls of overlooking UPS battery maintenance. A few years ago, I was working in a work room just outside a computer center in a large company's IT department and noticed a strong "rotten egg" smell. I followed the smell to its source, the UPS system. I ran my hand along the metal enclosure and half way along the side found a very warm spot. I called the situation to the attention of the computer room operations staff. They called the UPS service provider who quickly dispatched a technician. When the technician opened the enclosure, he found a battery that had swollen, then cracked its plastic housing and was boiling battery acid across the battery rack where it was located.

I have also heard about a 30-story building that was evacuated because of a very bad "rotten egg" smell on all floors. Another UPS system with some swollen and leaking batteries was really close to an HVAC system's return. The "rotten egg" smell was sucked into the HVAC and pumped to every floor of the building. The Fire Department and Emergency Services were in full force when the UPS technician opened the enclosure to see what he had to clean up.

So, avoid the potential hazards that can result from leaking batteries and avoid the hazard of your UPS system not being ready to keep your equipment up and running should utility power fail. Annual battery inspection/maintenance is the only answer.

A Good Reason to Stand Out in the Cold

2010-12-11T11:26:00.005-05:00

A cold breeze blew across a huddled group of people standing in the driveway of a town home in Milton, GA. Hushed conversations were held over mugs of gas station coffee cups held by gloved hands. The quiet was soon pierced by giggling of small children bundled warmly running to the park area in the center of the homes where they descended onto the swing set.

The children's laughter and joy suddenly transformed the circle of 29 town homes into a neighborhood. One that any parent or family would be overjoyed to be apart.

Soon the huddled group in the driveway became so large it spilled out onto the road in front of the home and into the edge of the park. This was a day of celebration marking the completion of the final four of the 29 town homes that make up Centennial Village, a community designed and built by Habitat for Humanity.

Habitat for Humanity of North Central Georgia started construction of this community in 2007. The new home owners purchased the homes with zero percent mortgages financed by Habitat for Humanity. Make no mistake, these are not give away homes. These are affordable homes with no interest loans. The home owners are responsible for making their down payment and making their monthly mortgage payments. As Habitat explains it, "It's a hand UP, not a hand out", and "Decent, affordable housing transforms a family's life, breaking the cycle of poverty and improving health and educational outcomes."

Additionally, the homeowners invest "sweat equity" in the construction of their home along side volunteers, and sponsors of their home. They typically also work on the construction of a neighbor's home.

The stories from the new homeowners during the home dedication are a testimony of the impact Habitat has on families and communities. Today one of the homeowners shared that a few years ago she would have never dreamed of owning her own home after living in a homeless shelter for a period of time. But, now her and her children have a home of their own and are a part of a community where her children were playing and laughing on a cold breezy morning with several of their neighbors' children.

For more information on Habitat for Humanity, how it works and how to get involved, visit: http://www.habitat.org/how/factsheet.aspx

A Christmas Story

2010-12-07T19:09:00.009-05:00

Well, it was 23F this morning with a 15 mph wind making it feel much colder than 23 even. So, it would be safe to say it is feeling a lot like Christmas in North Georgia. And of course when the Christmas season rolls around, all of the talk about NASCAR kind of simmers as they won't wage battle again until February. And for most, it is just too darn cold to enjoy riding their motorcycle. So, conversations seem to head towards Christmas legends and of course the origin of the Christmas Moose always comes up.

For those of you who have followed this blog for years, you are probably very familiar with the story. For others, this may be your first introduction. Whatever the case, here is the link to the story from last year's posting. Enjoy!

The Legend of the Christmas Moose

What is That Noise

2010-11-14T22:04:00.009-05:00

For a couple of weeks I had been noticing an exhaust leak on Rosie during my one hour commute into the city in the mornings while the world is still dark and again on my one hour (or more) commute home in the evenings. When I first started hearing it, I checked all the flanges where the bolt on the cylinder heads and all of the clamps the length of both exhaust pipes. But again the next day, I swore I could hear an exhaust leak. Kinda like hearing a piece of paper rattling over the edge of a can. Slowly I started noticing the bike's mellow rumblings controlled by the tuned muffler system seemed more raw, gutty, and loud. I checked the mufflers to find no fault as well.

But with all of the heat shielding strapped over the exhaust pipes, one can only see the underside of most of the exhaust system. But what could I be missing? As time rolled on, I kept thinking it seemed louder and back fired a bit when rolling out of the throttle like an old pickup with a burned out muffler. I also noticed that the engine's torque seemed a little flatter than normal. All of these symptoms pointed to an exhaust leak to me.

Finally, one afternoon, I started the bike on its side stand to let it warm while I put on my riding leathers before my commute home. I thought I might as well wave my hand around the exhaust work closest to both heads while it was running to detect where the leak could be. I waved my hand around the front cylinders exhaust system and could not detect any warm air escaping. I checked the rear cylinder from the left side of the bike, same findings. I then checked the rear cylinder from the right side of the bike and whoa! there is hot compressed air belching out there. I leaned over and squinted my eyes to see if I could see anything. And, in the narrow space where two heat shields come together, there was just enough of a gap to see a crack in the exhaust pipe below it and occasional sparks coming from the crack.

Harley-Davidson had designed a crossover pipe between the front and rear exhaust systems. This crossover looks like a large horseshoe running from the left side exhaust to the right side exhaust, and the top of the upside down "U" has a short piece of pipe that connects to the rear cylinder. Where that short piece of pipe connected to the top of the upside down "U" is where the exhaust had cracked. The crack looked more like a small rupture which explained why it sounded louder and produced backfire when rolling out of the throttle. This leak was right under the front edge of the seat.

So, I spent Saturday removing all of the heat shields to take a better look at the exhaust system. I soon found that the crossover had indeed failed and appeared beyond repairing by welding. New exhaust would have to be installed. Fortunately, the bike was equipped with slip-on mufflers that could be retained.

I located proper replacement parts and put them on order and returned to the garage to remove the old exhaust pipes. Once having them removed, it was apparent the crossover pipe was no more, worms food, pushing up the daisies, it had shuffled off its mortal coil, it was the ex-crossover pipe. And as a side note, a considerable amount of WD-40 is required when removing "slip-on" mufflers from exhaust pipes that have seen 35,000 miles of riding before said mufflers just slip right off.

This evening, the new Sampson pipes were delivered, so I set down and installed them. They definately look a lot better than the old pipes, less confusion and no more crossover. Nice one piece pipe on both sides.

No more exhaust leak under the seat either. All the exhaust is going thru the mufflers again. The nice refined sound she used to have is back and the throttle response seems much better.

We now resume this normal commute...

Baby's Got New Shoes!

2010-10-11T12:11:00.004-05:00

Just North of Dahlonega, Georgia on GA HWY 9 sits a very convenient group of motorcycle shops. The group of shops sit on "Rider's Hill". Riders Hill includes: European Motorsports, Black Mountain Cycles, Six Gap Cafe, and Tire Technicians Inc.

Black Mountain Cycles provides a dealership atmosphere for owners to put their bikes up for sale and potential buyers an incredible inventory of pre-owned bikes for sale. They also carry a full line of riding gear, helmets, and boots.

European Motorsports is a dealer of Aprilia, Moto Guzzi, MV Agusta, and Royal Enfield motorcycles and has an impressive inventory of all of their lines.

If you have been reading by blog lately, you have a good idea why I am headed to Rider's Hill. That's right - tires for Rosie.

I had visited Rider's Hill before just to see what all the buzz in the motorcycle groups was all about. So, when I started shopping to replace the tires on my Road King, I gave them a call and was surprised to find they had the same Dunlop/Harley Davidson tires the Harley dealer sells in stock for my bike as well as Michelin, Metzler, and Pirelli in stock for my bike. The price quote they provided was not only better than what the local dealerships were doing, but were in line with the super discount tire sites in the Internet without the expense of shipping.

So, I dropped Rosie off for a new pair of shoes this weekend and then headed to Ellijay, Georgia for our annual apple run. Nothing eases the pain of being without your bike on a nice autumn day when you live at the foot of the North Georgia mountains than a hot apple dumpling with soft vanilla ice cream slowly melting on top of it.

After church Sunday, we drove back to Rider's Hill and Rosie was sitting out front modelling her new shoes. The Tire Technician gang was busy mounting tires for customers and a few riders mingling around checking things out.

They did a great job and a great price and will be getting more of my business in the future. The ride home provided gorgeous weather and an enjoyable amount of twisty two lane for 45 minutes to cap off a good day.

-Peace

What's Up?

2010-09-26T13:12:00.003-05:00

For those wondering why I haven't had much to say as of late, I am fine no need to send out the cadaver dogs. After returning from Bristol, I commuted a full week to my office downtown. That Friday, I remembered that I had estimated that Rosie would probably be needing a back tire by the time we got home from Bristol. Because the Road King's have really long rear fenders, one doesn't happen to see the tread depth of the rear tires with a casual walk around. One has get on one's knees or lie on the concrete to check it.

If there is any question to the tread depth in the center of the tires, double click the picture to enlarge the image. My finding is there is a three inch area in the center of the rear tire where the tread design barely is visible. It it less than 2/32s. In fact if one rubs their hand across the area, it feels smooth.

So, Rosie has spent most of the month sleeping in the garage. I checked the front tire tread depth and its around 3/32 in the center, so I plan to replace both front and rear when I take it in to the shop.

So why is it taking me so long to get tires on Rosie? I spent a great deal of time in August with the medical community running tests on my lower back and left knee. So, I have been busy paying all the deductible and out of pocket expenses involved. Good news is that I only have arthritis in my lower back and my knee problems were resolved with 6 weeks of physical torture therapy.

So for the month of September, I've been caging it, driving my pickup. I have a clear perspective of why I enjoy commuting on two wheels. Traffic leaves a lot of holes that motorcycles fit comfortably in that pickups will not.

So all is good here, don't be fretting. Back to Harley in the City soon.

A little trip to Bristol

2010-08-26T19:20:00.014-05:00

As many of you may know, one of the sports I have enjoyed following over the last 28 yrs is NASCAR. As some of you may know, I drove short track dirt stock cars and short track asphalt stock cars 8 years. Over the last 9 years, while no longer racing stock cars, I have stayed involved by writing editorial articles and covering NASCAR racing.

Every since the first year I began following NASCAR racing, I have always wanted to go to the night race at Bristol. For years, there was a two year waiting list for tickets to the night race at Bristol, Tennessee. People handed down their seats at the legendary track in their wills and the track sold out year after year. So as time went by, I had all but given of hope of ever attending what I consider the best race on the NASCAR Sprint Cup Series schedule.

Earlier this year, my editor asked me if I wanted to cover the night race at Bristol of InsiderRacingNews.com. I think I answered him so fast that it stunned him. I immediately went to work to locate a hotel room, because I had heard they went fast and the hotels closest to the track jacked their prices up for the weekend. They were not kidding when the budget hotel chain that advertises $19.99 a night rooms is getting $350 a night and is booked, something is rotten in Denmark.

After working my way down the list of area hotels, I found one with a vacancy "conveniently" 78 miles away in Virginia and it was not $350.

When the weekend came, I loaded up "Rosie" with everything I needed and headed out that Thursday morning for ride to the hotel in Virginia. The ride was a mixture of beautiful roads through North Georgia, North Carolina, and Tennessee - perfect for a motorcycle ride. The day was unseasonably cool and enjoyable while overcast. Four and a half hours into the ride, I was enjoying the scenery around me as the road curved its way through the Great Smokey Mountains. With about an hour of riding left before reaching my hotel, I encountered a slow drizzle which did not cause me to want to pull over and don my rain gear. 10 minutes later the bottom fell out, so I located a convenient overpass and pulled on the rain gear.

Back rolling and the rain picked up its pace, and I increased my following distance even more. At this point I was very thankful that my cellphone has a navigation system that I was utilizing for the trip with an earbud under my helmet. Concentrating on traffic and rain was taking all of my attention, so not having to worry about trying to keep up with a map or notes was a definite gain.

Within 30 minutes of checking in my home away from home for the weekend, the rain stopped. Go figure. I got a good night's rest knowing the day's events on Friday would start early at Bristol Motor Speedway and I was 78 miles away, so I would need to be up early.

Arriving at Bristol Friday morning, the track was busy with cars, trucks, golf carts, race haulers, and a couple motorcycles. The track staff made picking up my credentials and making my way to the infield media center painless. Coffee was brewed and waiting and the media center was alive with activity.

Friday on a race weekend is filled with practice sessions on the track for both the NASCAR Nationwide Series and the NASCAR Sprint Cup Series, qualifying for both series, as well as scheduled media events with drivers from both series. I spent the day bouncing between what was happening trackside and being in the media center for the scheduled drivers appearances for announcements and interviews.

The day goes by pretty fast and soon qualifying is underway and before you know it, the grandstands are filling and the NASCAR Nationwide Series Food City 250 is preparing for a start.

I was amazed at the crowd that turned out for the Nationwide Series event - estimated at 100,000. The race lived up to my expectations with side by side racing all night long and the lead in the closing laps ended up with two guys leaning on each other, bouncing each other off the wall, and finally one guy spinning into the fence and the other winning.

By the time the parking lots emptied, and I made my 78 mile trip to the hotel, it was late and I did not require being rocked to sleep.

Saturday the track events were not scheduled to begin as early as Friday. With qualifying and all the practice sessions for the NASCAR Sprint Cup Series completed on Friday, the infield was not scheduled to open until noon. I was there waiting when they opened access.

At 1pm, I caught up with a NASCAR PR representative that had contacted me prior to the weekend to schedule a few laps riding in the pace car to give the media a feel for the track. Former racer and NASCAR Research and Development Engineer, Brett Bodine serves as the pace car driver in the NASCAR Sprint Cup Series.

Brett shoe-horned three of us into the Ford Mustang pace car and blistered off three laps utilizing all the racing grooves in the turns of Bristol Motor Speedway. It was probably good that the ride was over as quickly as it was - any longer and I would have started wanting to get back in racing again.

The prior to the green flag,the stands were packed. The economy has had a severe impact on attendance over the last two years at a lot of race tracks. Bristol did not sell out this year, but it was within 8,000 seats of pulling it off. There are a lot of tracks on the NASCAR circuit that wish they only had 8,000 empty seats. From pit road, it was hard for me to locate the 8,000 seats considering there were 155,000 seats filled.

Driver introductions were scheduled to have driver selected theme music much like pro-wrestling has utilized for years. The introductions started and it began to get a little monotonous about ten drivers into it. But remember the two drivers that got into it in the closing laps the night before? Well, they were both Cup drivers and apparently everything did not get settled at the nights end.

The driver on the losing end of the crash into the fence on Friday night still had a bone to pick with the driver that won last night's race. When he came out for his driver introduction, he rattled off his name, car number, team name, and car manufacturer like the prior ten drivers. But then he had one item to add, he named the driver that crashed him Friday night and called him a donkey. Up until that point the crowd in the grandstands had been somewhat subdued. Instantly the entire grandstands surrounding the half-mile speedway was standing on their feet and roaring their approval. Inside the media center, reporters clamored to write something while others questioned the NASCAR spokesman if a fine would result for the comment.

The NASCAR Spokesman quickly responded that he did not see a fine or punishment fitting since the Bible has several references to donkeys. Truth be told, the television network did not air the driver introductions to avoid having to pay rights for broadcast purposes on all the music used.

Driver introductions followed with one driver saying he hoped he would not be behind these two when the wreck happens, another saying he would like to be behind them to watch a big wreck.

Finally they dropped the green flag and 43 cars went barreling two-wide around the 23-degree banked concrete of Bristol. I spent time standing in the infield watching the cars flash by and feeling the earth tremble, and I spent time watching the monitors inside the media center while listening to race teams radio communication on my scanner.

By the time 500 laps had been completed, Kyle Busch had won all the events of the week at Bristol - something that had never been done in the history of the track. The team waved brooms in Victory Circle as the celebrated their driver sweeping the NASCAR Camping World Truck Series event on Wednesday, the NASCAR Nationwide Series race on Friday, and the NASCAR Sprint Cup Series race on Saturday night.

While that was going on, 155,000 people were trying to drive out of the parking lots, drivers were running over to a helicopter pad outside the track that had a helicopter shuttling them from the track to the nearby airport. With traffic what it was, the helicopter was the quickest ticket out.

I wrote a couple articles while the crowds were funneling out on any road or path leaving the track and finally put on my leathers and set out for my 78 mile ride to the hotel.

About 25 miles from the hotel, on a winding four-lane divided highway in what seemed like the darkest night on the year, it started raining again. The visual field was reduced by the darkness and by the rain, so I slowed my speed to compensate for riding on a road that I was not very familiar and trusted the voice in my ear that provided directions. Several cars flew by in the left hand lane providing a nice spray to add to what I was already receiving. Even an semi passed me moving at a pretty good clip and a heavy wall of water.

By the time I reached the hotel, it had stopped raining and the clock in the lobby showed 2am. I grabbed a quick shower, hung up all my wet clothes and fell face first into the bed. I must of fell asleep within seconds because the next thing I remember was hearing a couple of kids in the hall playing paddy-cake and talking loudly at 8:30am.

The ride home was quite enjoyable. I discovered the four days in the mountains had made be more confident in leaning the bike into the curves of the road and rolling out of the throttle less.

A short stop for some southern fried chicken and a glass of sweet tea, and I soon found myself rolling into the driveway of our home. The odometer showed I was 41 miles short of logging 1,000 miles total on the trip. Despite the two rains, I enjoyed the entire weekend and was glad I rode the bike.

Heels and Scooters

2010-07-14T16:43:00.003-05:00

A co-worker stopped me today to share an experience from the night before. On her way home she had stopped at QuickTrip (perhaps one of the greatest creations in the world). While she was shopping for a cold beverage, she heard a disturbance. She looked up to see most of the patrons in the store running out into the parking lot. She made her way to the door to see what the cause of all the commotion.

When she got to the front doors, she saw a woman wearing high heels lying on the ground with abrasions on her forearm and a split lip. The woman lying on the ground was also wearing a silver half-helmet. Not far from where she was lying was a little silver scooter lying on it's side. The woman stood up and began trying to right the scooter and the friendly patrons were more than happy to assist the lovely damsel in distress. A few minutes later, the little scooter, which was paint matched to the woman's helmet, was back upright and all was well in the world.

I know that scooters do not go very fast and they are low to the ground. But the woman in the QuickTrip parking lot has a lip and a forearm that will attest that AGATT (All the Gear All The Time) is still a good idea. And as sexy as a pair of high heels are on the feet of a woman with long gorgeous legs, I would venture to say they are not the ideal footwear for scooters or motorcycles and very well could have been a contributor to her lipstick getting smeared that evening. I understand that everyone wants to turn heads when they are riding, and I will not knock that.

But, before you run out and jump on your scooter or motorcycle this summer, even if it is for a quick trip down to the local QuickTrip for milk or a lottery ticket, consider that the parking lot of a QuickTrip is as busy or busier than the parking lot of Wall World. Cars are coming out of the eight lanes of gas pumps. Cars are coming out of the parking spaces in front of the store. And, cars are coming in both driveways from the surround roads. It only takes one of those to not see you for a sudden braking maneuver to be required.

Sudden braking always has the potential of going bad if the rider locks the back tire or if the front wheel is in a turn and the rider gets on the front brake hard. With the front wheel turned and the front brake almost locked, the bike will transfer its weight forward and because the front wheel is not in line, it will cause the bike to try to fall down.

Not being there to see what happened, I can only speculate on what caused the spill. But being a patron of many a QuickTrip and observing the madness of the traffic at times, I would guess she was turning into a parking spot and someone made a quick move towards her. She probably made a quick grab of the front brake and things were headed South. Trying to stab a foot down at this point might possibly keep things upright, but could lead to a Tib/Fib fracture if the rider stomps the ground too hard trying to save it. And, if rider is wearing high heels, the rider runs the risk of the heel breaking and dumping them or dislocating their ankle.

Enjoy the riding weather but consider the footwear and gear you are wearing before you take off.

-Peace

A Good Morning

2010-07-05T13:05:00.005-05:00

Bleary-eyed and ready for my first cup of coffee, I rolled into the motorcycle parking area of our office building's parking garage. As I approached my usual parking spot, I observed a behemoth two wheeled machine sitting in the space next to me. As I backed Rosie neatly in her usual spot, my eye wandered up and down and end to end of the Victory Vision Tour with its 106cc air-cooled 50 degree V-Twin four stroke engine sitting quietly in the next spot.

This was a work of art resting neatly on two wheels and a side stand. Much like a priceless oil painting created by the hands of a master, the beauty of this machine could not be taken in with a casual observation or a single glance.

As I began to unstrap my helmet, I saw a hardhat approaching. It seems there is always a floor being remodeled in these two buildings. He approached and unlocked the rear case on the Vision and retrieved an item previously forgotten upon initial disembark.

"That is one gorgeous motorcycle", I said.

His eyes lit up and a smile broke out upon his face.

"I am still getting use to it", he replied. "I rode a Honda Goldwing (aka hondapottimus) for several years before trading for this one. I still haven't figured out all the gizmos. It has an electric adjustable windshield and an electric butt warmer. I figure as long as I remember where the key goes and where the start button is, I'm good", he joked.

He inquired where I rode in from, how many miles, and did I ride to work(tm) everyday. And then we traded a few riding stories before I had to make my way to my appointed destination - the coffee shop before reporting to work.

It's always a good start to a day's morning to meet another rider and get to chatter a bit before starting work.

Ride on!

-Peace

Happy Fourth of July - Independence Day

2010-07-03T15:59:00.003-05:00

Declaration of Independence

Adopted by Congress on July 4, 1776

The Unanimous Declaration of the Thirteen United States of America

When, in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the laws of nature and of nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. That to secure these rights, governments are instituted among men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed. That whenever any form of government becomes destructive to these ends, it is the right of the people to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their safety and happiness.

Prudence, indeed, will dictate that governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shown that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such government, and to provide new guards for their future security. --Such has been the patient sufferance of these colonies; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former systems of government. The history of the present King of Great Britain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute tyranny over these states. To prove this, let facts be submitted to a candid world.
He has refused his assent to laws, the most wholesome and necessary for the public good.

He has forbidden his governors to pass laws of immediate and pressing importance, unless suspended in their operation till his assent should be obtained; and when so suspended, he has utterly neglected to attend to them.

He has refused to pass other laws for the accommodation of large districts of people, unless those people would relinquish the right of representation in the legislature, a right inestimable to them and formidable to tyrants only.

He has called together legislative bodies at places unusual, uncomfortable, and distant from the depository of their public records, for the sole purpose of fatiguing them into compliance with his measures.

He has dissolved representative houses repeatedly, for opposing with manly firmness his invasions on the rights of the people.

He has refused for a long time, after such dissolutions, to cause others to be elected; whereby the legislative powers, incapable of annihilation, have returned to the people at large for their exercise; the state remaining in the meantime exposed to all the dangers of invasion from without, and convulsions within.

He has endeavored to prevent the population of these states; for that purpose obstructing the laws for naturalization of foreigners; refusing to pass others to encourage their migration hither, and raising the conditions of new appropriations of lands.

He has obstructed the administration of justice, by refusing his assent to laws for establishing judiciary powers.

He has made judges dependent on his will alone, for the tenure of their offices, and the amount and payment of their salaries.

He has erected a multitude of new offices, and sent hither swarms of officers to harass our people, and eat out their substance.

He has kept among us, in times of peace, standing armies without the consent of our legislature.

He has affected to render the military independent of and superior to civil power.
He has combined with others to subject us to a jurisdiction foreign to our constitution, and unacknowledged by our laws; giving his assent to their acts of pretended legislation:

For quartering large bodies of armed troops among us:
For protecting them, by mock trial, from punishment for any murders which they should commit on the inhabitants of these states:
For cutting off our trade with all parts of the world:
For imposing taxes on us without our consent:
For depriving us in many cases, of the benefits of trial by jury:
For transporting us beyond seas to be tried for pretended offenses:
For abolishing the free system of English laws in a neighboring province, establishing therein an arbitrary government, and enlarging its boundaries so as to render it at once an example and fit instrument for introducing the same absolute rule in these colonies:
For taking away our charters, abolishing our most valuable laws, and altering fundamentally the forms of our governments:

For suspending our own legislatures, and declaring themselves invested with power to legislate for us in all cases whatsoever.

He has abdicated government here, by declaring us out of his protection and waging war against us.

He has plundered our seas, ravaged our coasts, burned our towns, and destroyed the lives of our people.

He is at this time transporting large armies of foreign mercenaries to complete the works of death, desolation and tyranny, already begun with circumstances of cruelty and perfidy scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous ages, and totally unworthy the head of a civilized nation.

He has constrained our fellow citizens taken captive on the high seas to bear arms against their country, to become the executioners of their friends and brethren, or to fall themselves by their hands.

He has excited domestic insurrections amongst us, and has endeavored to bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers, the merciless Indian savages, whose known rule of warfare, is undistinguished destruction of all ages, sexes and conditions.

In every stage of these oppressions we have petitioned for redress in the most humble terms: our repeated petitions have been answered only by repeated injury. A prince, whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free people.

Nor have we been wanting in attention to our British brethren. We have warned them from time to time of attempts by their legislature to extend an unwarrantable jurisdiction over us. We have reminded them of the circumstances of our emigration and settlement here. We have appealed to their native justice and magnanimity, and we have conjured them by the ties of our common kindred to disavow these usurpations, which, would inevitably interrupt our connections and correspondence. They too have been deaf to the voice of justice and of consanguinity. We must, therefore, acquiesce in the necessity, which denounces our separation, and hold them, as we hold the rest of mankind, enemies in war, in peace friends.

We, therefore, the representatives of the United States of America, in General Congress, assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the name, and by the authority of the good people of these colonies, solemnly publish and declare, that these united colonies are, and of right ought to be free and independent states; that they are absolved from all allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the state of Great Britain, is and ought to be totally dissolved; and that as free and independent states, they have full power to levy war, conclude peace, contract alliances, establish commerce, and to do all other acts and things which independent states may of right do. And for the support of this declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes and our sacred honor.

New Hampshire: Josiah Bartlett, William Whipple, Matthew Thornton
Massachusetts: John Hancock, Samual Adams, John Adams, Robert Treat Paine, Elbridge Gerry
Rhode Island: Stephen Hopkins, William Ellery
Connecticut: Roger Sherman, Samuel Huntington, William Williams, Oliver Wolcott
New York: William Floyd, Philip Livingston, Francis Lewis, Lewis Morris
New Jersey: Richard Stockton, John Witherspoon, Francis Hopkinson, John Hart, Abraham Clark
Pennsylvania: Robert Morris, Benjamin Rush, Benjamin Franklin, John Morton, George Clymer, James Smith, George Taylor, James Wilson, George Ross
Delaware: Caesar Rodney, George Read, Thomas McKean
Maryland: Samuel Chase, William Paca, Thomas Stone, Charles Carroll of Carrollton
Virginia: George Wythe, Richard Henry Lee, Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Harrison, Thomas Nelson, Jr., Francis Lightfoot Lee, Carter Braxton
North Carolina: William Hooper, Joseph Hewes, John Penn
South Carolina: Edward Rutledge, Thomas Heyward, Jr., Thomas Lynch, Jr., Arthur Middleton
Georgia: Button Gwinnett, Lyman Hall, George Walton

Across America on a Motorcycle - Then and Now

2010-06-24T16:58:00.003-05:00

No idea how I missed the post on Lucky's blog Monday, but IF you like motorcycles, you have got to check this out.

In 1919, following World War I, a British Royal Air Force Captain by the name of R. K. Shepherd decided to ride a brand new Henderson 4-cylinder motorcycle (Henderson Motorcycle Co. of Detroit, Michigan) from New York City to San Fransico. Consider that there was no interstate system at this point in time and in fact, roads were not the greatest in that time period. The trip ended up amounting to 4,950 miles in three months. He had numerous engine overhauls and noted that he fell off 142 times.

He published a book documenting the trip, Across America by Motor-cycle which seems like a worthy read.

Fast forward to May of this year, and a fellow named Chris set out to roughly ride the approximately same trip on a 2007 KLR 650 and document it on blogger! You can read Chris' documentary of his experience to date at: acrossamericabymotorcycle.blogspot.com

Commute on Two Wheels

2010-06-23T16:47:00.009-05:00

Monday was Ride to Work Day(tm). I thought I would give kudos to the folks that work in my building that commute on two wheels(not tm) all the other days without prompting. On some days this area is even fuller with half a dozen more scooters in the 50cc range. I always enjoy walking down after work and seeing what a menagerie of two wheel transportation has collected for the day.

In the picture above you see a Kawasaki Vulcan 900, a scooter, and a Harley-Davidson Road King. The Vulcan has been there everyday I have ridden since going to work here, though I have not had the opportunity to meet the owner/rider.

The scooter belongs to a lady in the 40-50 age range who seems to be as regular a two wheel commuter as the Vulcan rider. We have spoken severl times. She seems to be an avid scooter fan. You quickly sense that she loves riding when you talk to her.

This BMW seems to be a pretty regular two wheel commuter as well. And older model but sitting here almost everyday, so it must be providing good service. I have to wonder if they could make those mirrors sit any higher.

This BMW shows up at times, other times there is another model BMW sitting in this space. So, I am guessing it is the same guy with a collection going on of sorts. These particular side boxes are the ones I call chemistry experiment boxes. The German engineers do not care much for looks it seems. They just designed a storage box, boom, done. I cannot help but think they should be transporting a high priced microscope everytime I see these boxes.

In any event, Kudos to the owners/riders of these machines and everyone else who commutes on two wheels as much as the weather in their area of the world allows. Enjoy and watch out for oblivious cage drivers making left hand turns.

I was thinking maybe we should make this Ride to Work Week(not tm) or Ride to Work Month(not tm) or even Ride to Work Quarter(not tm).

The Hard Hat

2010-06-18T06:33:00.007-05:00

I ride into the parking deck just before 7am another headache starting. I get off the bike and see a hard hat making a beeline toward me. My head hurts, its too early, and I just don't feel like it but here it comes anyhow.

"You know what the ugliest thing in the world is?", he asks.

I can feel the dig coming.

"Honda Goldwing?", I reply.

Without missing a beat he finishes his punchline, "a Harley rider without his helmet."

"Oh", I say, "BMW RS1000 would a been my second guess."

His face twists and he responds, "Don't be ugly now. Don't be ugly." Then he shows me a cell phone pic of his BMW RS1200.

My bad. Its the headache. I meant 1200.

Had to drive the truck today for the air conditioner I guess.

Have a good one!

-Peace

Summer Time, Summer Time

2010-06-15T10:55:00.011-05:00

OK so Summer is here. 94f and humidity so high that it feels like walking through a vat of hot tapioca pudding. The temptation is to ride motorcycles in the least amount of protective gear as possible. I see lots of riders in a t-shirt, gym shorts, and tennis shoes or flip flops with a full face helmet.

I find this bewildering. So it is hot enough to forgo hand, arm, chest, leg and foot protection, but they still are going to protect that face? Someone explain this to me. They are really intent on the safest helmet but the rest is elective? +1 for wearing a helmet. +1 for a full face helmet. -5 for omitting the rest of the gear.

photo by author, all rights reserved

I followed this guy on my commute home in his summer "riding gear" the other afternoon. As we approached 65mph, his t-shirt amounted to a scarf flapping from his neck in the breeze. At the same time, I observed many distracted drivers on the crowded highway. One lady was filing her nails driving with her knee. While several were lost in cellphone and text message conversations. One errant move by one of these distracted drivers could cause a bad situation. Such a situation would be acerbated by his lack of gear.

Yes, I still believe All the Gear All the Time (AGATT) even during Georgia Summer heat. "But leathers are hot!" True that, so maybe its time to look at textile riding gear designed for this weather.

Several manufacturers offer Textile chap, pants, and jackets with built in armor while also providing vents. Some will argue that textile gear with mesh sleeves provide little protection. I would argue it is significantly better than a t-shirt. I have slid across asphalt in a mesh jacket with armor and walked away with no bodily scars under the jacket. So tell me about the success of a t-shirt opposed to mesh riding jackets.

My point is simple. Do not completely disregard protective riding gear due to the heat. Find suitable hot weather gear. Because you cannot prepare for everything you might encounter out there - uneven asphalt in the dark, flying aluminum ladders, fuel spilled in the roadway, deer or dogs running across the road, distracted cage drivers, etc.

Today, in 94f weather, I dodged a fiberglass ladder in the highway and observed more distracted drivers that I care to think about. So, be prepared.

Gear up!

More Aluminum Ladders

2010-06-07T17:24:00.003-05:00

It was another gorgeous afternoon as I walked out of work and into the parking garage. I pulled on my leather chaps and my textile riding jacket, strapped my helmet on my head, pulled my gloves on tight. I was soon in the multilane commuter traffic of downtown traffic trying to sneak North out of the city.

My route takes me on a two lane highway with a concrete divider wall, narrow shoulders, and traffic merging into the right lane. I am in the left hand lane running highway speeds 3-4 car lengths behind a car positioned to the passenger side of the car I am behind so that I can see the brake lights of the cas further ahead. A few miles into the ride, I see the right hand lane suddenly braking hard, smoke rolling off tires, and cars darting to the narrow shoulder on the right hand side. I begin to squeeze some brake to provide more space between Rosie and the cars ahead in my lane of traffic. Soon my lane is slowing as well.

And then I see it, an aluminum omlete stretching across from the edge of the right hand shoulder, across the entire right hand lane, and just protruding into the left lane. I point my left knee towards the left side shoulder and push on the left grip on the handlebars. Rosie makes a nice smooth lean as we point towards the dew line on the left side of the road. As we approach the line, I stand her back up straight and continue to ease by the pile of debris leaving a safe distance to avoid any aluminum shards that might puncture a tire or fly up and cause a scar to exposed flesh.

We escape without issue, no harm, no foul.

I ride another couple of miles and take a off ramp to the left and pull up to a stop light. I am in the right hand lane of two lanes turning left monitoring approaching traffic to the rear in my mirrors when I notice a pickup truck pull up on my right.

I glance over at the truck, back to the mirrors, back to the traffic crossing in front of me, back to the stop light and then back to the truck. In the back of a pickup is a walk-behind lawn mower and an aluminum step ladder. The mower has a web cargo strap running thru the handles securing it to the bed of the truck. The ladder - nothing.

So, someone loaded up the pickup and had a choice to make. What to secure? The 30lb lawnmower with the low center of gravity or the 10lb aluminum ladder with a propensity for flight. Delbert chose the mower. Genius!

My mind begins to process what I have just seen in the last five miles as I merge onto one of Atlanta's busiest highways.

What happens to a motorcylists following the pickup if the ladder becomes airborne?

What happens if the ladder becomes airborne and a car hits it?

What happens if a motorcyclist is riding behind a car that hits an aluminum ladder?

None of the scenarios sound like they have a happy ending.

I made sure the pickup did not get in front of me. I encountered a couple of pickups on the remainder of the ride home that were carrying vast assundry of building materials and tools, and I elected to not ride behind them. And, I found means to pass them when safely possible.

As I think about it further, we need an aluminum ladder safety advocay group. Since the general population cannot figure it out on their own, aluminum ladders need to carry labels warning of their propensity for flight and their need to be secured when carried in pickup trucks.

Watch out when you are riding. Nobody else is!

-Peace

R.I.P Dennis Hopper

2010-05-29T19:30:00.003-05:00

That's him on the right.
image source:pulpinternational.com

Dennis Hopper died this morning at the age of 74 at his home in Venice, California from complications caused by prostate cancer.

He co-wrote, directed, and starred with Peter Fonda in the 1969 movie Easy Rider which was nominated for a best screenplay Academy Award.

He also performed in Rebel Without a Cause, Giant Apocalypse Now and Blue Velvet. Recently, he portrayed Ben Cendars on the television series Crash.

Memorial Day

2010-05-29T11:03:00.007-05:00

photo source: author

Memorial Day is a day for honoring military personnel who died in battle or as a result of wounds sustained in battle in the line of duty while serving the United States of America.

In 1966, President Lyndon Johnson and the United States Congress declared Waterloo, N.Y., the “birthplace” of Memorial Day. A ceremony was held there on May 5, 1866, one hundered years earlier honoring local veterans who had died while serving in the Civil War. Businesses closed for the day and residents flew flags at half-staff.

At the end of World War I, the day was expanded to include all those who had given their life in a war or conflict while defending the United States of America.

Finally, in 1971, Memorial Day was declared a national holiday by the National Holiday Act of 1971 (P.L. 90 - 363) of the United States Congress.

Vietnam Monument - Washington, DC
(photo by author)

While enjoying a three day weekend, grilling ribs, going to the beach, taking that long beautiful ride through the mountains, please pause for a moment and give honor to those who have put themselves in harms way and paid the ultimate sacrifice to provide you the freedoms that we all take for granted.

WWII Monument - Washington, DC
(photo by author)

God Bless America!

Anytime, Anywhere. They are there!

2010-05-17T16:50:00.002-05:00

This week is National EMS (Emergency Medial Services) Week.

Kudos to the men and women around this country serving countless sleepless hours to respond in moments of crisis - some paid and some volunteer putting themselves in harms way to bring medical aid and save lives.

It is an underpaid career that is often times thankless. And many of the providers are either volunteers giving up time with their families to provide for their community or underpaid providers working two jobs to try to make ends meet so that their community has emergency health care. Many take advantage of the service and use it as a hospital taxi service, but when the real emergency arises, these folks make haste to provide the ultimate level of medical care to you, your friends, and your loved ones.

When you are traveling on the roadways and highways of our country and an Ambulance or Rescue vehicle is approaching you from the rear with lights blazing and siren screaming, pull to the right and give them room to get by. It could be someone you know and love in dire need of their services. Never tailgate an emergency vehicle as a way to get thru traffic.

Thanks to those of you serving our communities in the EMS. We appreciate your dedication.

Motorcycles are Everywhere! Be Aware!

2010-05-16T12:52:00.002-05:00

If you drive an automobile, please take four minutes to view this video:
Intersection Video

Look Out for Motorcyclists - Use your eyes and mirrors to see what’s around.

Don't Be Distracted - Hang up and drive, put down the food, the pet, the personal grooming gear, the CD, and the reading material and save it for later.

Give Two-Wheelers Some Room - Don't tailgate or get too close side-by-side.

Use Your Turn Signals - Signal your intentions. It's also the law.

Keep it in the Car - Don’t throw trash and cigarettes out the window, and securely lash down cargo that can fall out on the road and be a deadly hazard.

(source: www.amadirectlink.com)

In Harm's Way

2010-05-12T16:52:00.002-05:00

Photo Source: http://us.macmillan.com/inharmsway

In Harm's Way
The Sinking of the U.S.S. Indianapolis and the Extraordinary Story of Its Survivors
Doug Stanton

==================================================================================

Anyone who has a love for the Sea,Naval interest, or interest in World War II will probably enjoy this 354 page read. I think I consumed it in three evenings.

The Navy cruiser USS Indianapolis CA-35, a Portland-class cruiser of the United States Navy, played a very strategic role in ending the war by transporting the components of the first Atomic Bomb to the island of Tinian on July 26, 1945. The bomb was later dropped on Hiroshima, Japan by the B-29, Eola Gay.

After delivery this highly secret cargo, the Indianapolis was ordered to sail to Leyte Gulf, on the East Coast of the Philippines, to take part in "gunnery practice". Captain Charles Butler McVay III and a crew of 1,197 men began the 1,500 nautical mile journey.

At 12:14 am on July 30, 1945, the Indianapolis was struck by a torpedo which tore away the bow. A second torpedo struck seconds later. An SOS was quickly sent out on a backup radio system as the main radio was destroyed in the damage as was the ship's intercom system. The Captain ordered an abandon ship by word of mouth. The ship sank within 12 minutes according to survivors leaving 880 men suffering from burns to try and survive at Sea.

Because the ships fuel and oil tanks were ruptured in the attack, the survivors were left to swim in a huge oil slick. To make matters worse, the SOS message sent out by the Indianapolis was ignored and the men responsible for keeping track with the ship's arrival in Leyte did not elect to report its lack of arrival.

The surviving 880 men were left to fend for themselves without food or drinking water adrift in the South Pacific with regular attacks by sharks. Five days later, 317 of the original 880 men were able to signal Lieutenant Chuck Gwinn, flying a Lockheed Navy Ventura PV-1 bomber and a rescue effort began.

This book chronicals the story of the Indianapolis during this tragic experience. I found it to be a very good read and hope you do too.

Additional Sources:
www.ussindianapolis.org
us.macmillan.com/inharmsway