Bikeforums.net is a forum about nothing but bikes. Our community can help you find information about hard-to-find and localized information like bicycle tours, specialties like where in your area to have your recumbent bike serviced, or what are the best bicycle tires and seats for the activities you use your bike for.SD Fixed
06-03-04, 02:01 PM
So Monday night (25 May) I pack up a meager collection of clothes, uniforms, under garments, a few bits of normal clothes. All I can bring is what fits into two bags (no more than 35 lbs each) and a carry on. It’s my last evening with the family, but I manage to get out on my Bianchi for about 10 minutes.. I play around doing skids and trying to get a track stand on.. no joy there. A few hard cranks up the hills, and few sprints. I take the bike to the garage and hang it up, throw over the lock, and here that click.
Goodbyes are never fun, but more so now with my daughter being older and knowing the concept of time and distance. Tuesday morning came to soon, seemingly leaving a million things undone. At the airfield, my wife and I say a quick goodbye. There’s no need to keep things at some long lengthy good by, we’ve both agreed. But there’s always that feeling of things unsaid, or the worry that it could be the last time. Anything can happen, you know?
Up up and away via NALO flight to Norfolk via. We land in a sticky heat in a flat land of many trees. The air is thick and heavy. We slug our bags onto the bus; slug our selves onto the ship. We argue over who sleeps where, un pack, and slowly mill about, to jet lagged to sleep, to tired to do anything productive. Norfolk is not impressive, if you ask me. We catch a cab out to the town and don’t find anything. We end up taking a large loop back, only to stop at a place called the Music Box. It’s a dive bar if there ever was one. A group of us drink beer in the spray painted black room with home baked speakers hooked to the wall, and watch locals play pool. The bartenders are friendly, to the point of flirty, just working for tips. I feel a mixture of empathy and sadness for them. They see a great slice of life, but a lot of it the down sliding of people.. The bar feels lonely, and I sink back into the bar seat .. I nurse a beer, and bum a smoke. The eagles play in the back ground “Hotel California”. We all laugh about it, the irony of hearing this song, being from California, to hear it in Virginia, and everyone in the bar singing along. Through the smoke and the haze the song comes to a certain life that only can exist in a place that is foreign to you..
On the way back, I notice that it’s so flat, and the lanes are so huge, and the lights so far between, I can imagine being laid out flat on the bike, legs going like a madman, cruising along at hyper speed, impossible in San Diego, with it’s hills, many lights, narrow streets. I wish I had a bike at that moment.. just me and the road, burning off the beer, the wind blowing off the smell of cigarettes and vinyl bar seats. The song filtering out of my head and into the wind behind me.
Back on the ship: it’s HUGE. I’ve covered 14 stories of it now. We refuse to say we are lost, we just take the long way to work. I’ve found the forward gym, and my new bike is a Lifecycle 2500. It’s right under the front of the ship, so at times the planes are being launched. Shhhhhhh… BANG. If you put your helmet to a metal doorframe and slammed the door as hard as you could.. that’s the feeling. The first time, I nearly jumped off the bike, it scared the @#$3 out of me. But, it’s at least entertainment now. There’s 3 other bikes, a few treadmills, two fan rowing machines. Small room so when it’s full, the ceiling (overhead) drips condensation, and sweat. The weather gets more humid every day. 4 places to eat, nearly 24 hours a day. Decent food. The crew is pretty friendly, hard working. I watch planes take off and land at sea. All the descriptions don’t do it justice. If you love or hate war and the machines of war, or are merely indifferent: A nuclear powered carrier is a marvel of creation. The scope of detail and ability to be self-sufficient is something to behold.
We crossed the line recently.. that is to say, we crossed the equator, and preformed the ancient ceremony where as all slimly pollywogs become shellbacks. I don’t know who comes up with these traditions, but they’ve got a wicked sense of humor. I’m told it’s heavily watered down now, compared to days past. But after standing in front of King Neptune 4 times, and having to re run the gamut several times, I find it sufficient. I’ll let 165 run with the jokes on me and several other’s blowing pad eyes, doing the crotch walk in large groups, and me running about singing “I’m a little teapot”. As ridiculous as it may seem, it joins together people who may not normally ever talk. With 3000 people, it’s possible you’ll never lay eyes on everyone.
Soon Brazil, for a few days. I’ll actually get to see the Coco cabana, the Christo, and who knows what else. I’m not sure I’ll actually convince anyone to rent bikes and go for a ride.. there’s a huge fear of crime and targeted terrorism. But, it’s my intention to get out and see something other than a bar and watered down mall.
Hope everyone is doing well, strap the feet in tight, watch the right hook, and well blah blah blah..
Goodbyes are never fun, but more so now with my daughter being older and knowing the concept of time and distance. Tuesday morning came to soon, seemingly leaving a million things undone. At the airfield, my wife and I say a quick goodbye. There’s no need to keep things at some long lengthy good by, we’ve both agreed. But there’s always that feeling of things unsaid, or the worry that it could be the last time. Anything can happen, you know?
Up up and away via NALO flight to Norfolk via. We land in a sticky heat in a flat land of many trees. The air is thick and heavy. We slug our bags onto the bus; slug our selves onto the ship. We argue over who sleeps where, un pack, and slowly mill about, to jet lagged to sleep, to tired to do anything productive. Norfolk is not impressive, if you ask me. We catch a cab out to the town and don’t find anything. We end up taking a large loop back, only to stop at a place called the Music Box. It’s a dive bar if there ever was one. A group of us drink beer in the spray painted black room with home baked speakers hooked to the wall, and watch locals play pool. The bartenders are friendly, to the point of flirty, just working for tips. I feel a mixture of empathy and sadness for them. They see a great slice of life, but a lot of it the down sliding of people.. The bar feels lonely, and I sink back into the bar seat .. I nurse a beer, and bum a smoke. The eagles play in the back ground “Hotel California”. We all laugh about it, the irony of hearing this song, being from California, to hear it in Virginia, and everyone in the bar singing along. Through the smoke and the haze the song comes to a certain life that only can exist in a place that is foreign to you..
On the way back, I notice that it’s so flat, and the lanes are so huge, and the lights so far between, I can imagine being laid out flat on the bike, legs going like a madman, cruising along at hyper speed, impossible in San Diego, with it’s hills, many lights, narrow streets. I wish I had a bike at that moment.. just me and the road, burning off the beer, the wind blowing off the smell of cigarettes and vinyl bar seats. The song filtering out of my head and into the wind behind me.
Back on the ship: it’s HUGE. I’ve covered 14 stories of it now. We refuse to say we are lost, we just take the long way to work. I’ve found the forward gym, and my new bike is a Lifecycle 2500. It’s right under the front of the ship, so at times the planes are being launched. Shhhhhhh… BANG. If you put your helmet to a metal doorframe and slammed the door as hard as you could.. that’s the feeling. The first time, I nearly jumped off the bike, it scared the @#$3 out of me. But, it’s at least entertainment now. There’s 3 other bikes, a few treadmills, two fan rowing machines. Small room so when it’s full, the ceiling (overhead) drips condensation, and sweat. The weather gets more humid every day. 4 places to eat, nearly 24 hours a day. Decent food. The crew is pretty friendly, hard working. I watch planes take off and land at sea. All the descriptions don’t do it justice. If you love or hate war and the machines of war, or are merely indifferent: A nuclear powered carrier is a marvel of creation. The scope of detail and ability to be self-sufficient is something to behold.
We crossed the line recently.. that is to say, we crossed the equator, and preformed the ancient ceremony where as all slimly pollywogs become shellbacks. I don’t know who comes up with these traditions, but they’ve got a wicked sense of humor. I’m told it’s heavily watered down now, compared to days past. But after standing in front of King Neptune 4 times, and having to re run the gamut several times, I find it sufficient. I’ll let 165 run with the jokes on me and several other’s blowing pad eyes, doing the crotch walk in large groups, and me running about singing “I’m a little teapot”. As ridiculous as it may seem, it joins together people who may not normally ever talk. With 3000 people, it’s possible you’ll never lay eyes on everyone.
Soon Brazil, for a few days. I’ll actually get to see the Coco cabana, the Christo, and who knows what else. I’m not sure I’ll actually convince anyone to rent bikes and go for a ride.. there’s a huge fear of crime and targeted terrorism. But, it’s my intention to get out and see something other than a bar and watered down mall.
Hope everyone is doing well, strap the feet in tight, watch the right hook, and well blah blah blah..