Catawissa

You don't get many Saturdays like this in February. Maybe in San Diego, but not in St. Louis. None of us could pass up the 65 degree weather.

Catawissa is here. We started here. Don't ask me how we got from one point to the other because I have no idea. I'm still trying to map the route.

According to the folks with Garmins on their bikes, there is 4000 feet of climbing in the 50 mile loop we rode. I believe it. It was very hilly, very windy, and very fun. And in a testament to the Weekly Workouts, I can proudly say that I was not the lantern rouge on any of the climbs. In fact, I finished all of them either in the middle or the end of the main pack. Quite an accomplishment riding with this group.

45 Lbs Of Pure Awesomeness

We took a jaunt to my moms house in Little Rock for Thanksgiving. Time to see family and old friends and a Razorback game (of course). This year I brought bikes - the Masi for me; and Ben chose the single speed Red Bike.

Thanksgiving day was beautiful. Very close to 70 degs and not a cloud in the sky. While dinner was on the stove I took Ben to the river to ride. Little Rock has a very unique riverfront trail system. It consists of roughly fifteen miles of bike lane and extra-wide asphalt bike path that connects the east and west parts of the city, from downtown to Pinnacle Mountain State Park.

Midway along the trail is Murray Lock & Dam. The dam sits at the intersection of the Rebsamen Park and River Mountain Rd. trails, and features a bike path across the Arkansas River known as the Big Dam Bridge. Ben and I started at the base of River Mountain Road riding east towards the dam. When we got to the dam, Ben couldn't pass it up, and took off up the ramp. This is no simple climb. But climb he did - up and across and down the other side - stopping only once to take in the view. On the North Little Rock side, Ben was so happy with his effort, he turned around and did it again - up and over to the Little Rock side.

Now back where we started, Ben told me he was tired (he'd gone 5 miles), so we called it a ride and pedaled towards the car. On the way he asked me why all the riders we passed said hello to us, and kept telling him he is awesome. I explained that cyclists are very friendly people. They thought he was awesome because he did something very few adults can do, and he looked good doing it too. I could see the wheels turning as he smiled.

At grandma's house, the dinner wasn't quite ready and some of the neighbor boys were playing tag. Ben joined the game, and I took off for an 18-mile lollypop loop of the river road done my way.

I Smelled A Submarine Today

I finally got out for a long ride. On my way home, going up the hill on Clayton Rd. between Strecker and Clarkson Rds. I caught a whiff. It was faint at first. The breeze created by passing cars swirled it away. Once the air died down I caught it again, this time for real. It lasted for a good two breathes before it was gone for good.

Those of you who are Qualified know the smell. It is unmistakable. It is the combination of bodies, breath, machinery, sea air, cigarette smoke, galley food, and amine, churned through charcoal filters and scrubbers, injected with oxygen and recirculated again and again. It transported me off my bike. Suddenly I could feel the Olongapo sun and the gentle vibration of the power plant under a full bell. I could see the floating city around Hong Kong and the beautiful girls on yachts on the approach to San Diego Bay. I could hear the bustle of Yokosuka harbor, the laughter in Control, and the klaxon diving alarm. Then I was at the light at Clarkson Rd.

Next month will mark 20 years since I last set foot on a Boat. To this day I can still feel the boredom of long sea transits, the terror of submarine combat, and the tedium of the Cold War with its endless drills and inspections. It was 300 days a year at sea with people I could never forget but now rarely think about. Earning my dolphins was the biggest achievement of my life, and forever connected me to an elite class of sailor. It gave me the confidence to do all the things I have done since.

As I worked my way east on Clayton Rd I started to think about submarine life and some fun stories to tell my kids. Like the time we surfaced in a typhoon in the South China Sea. Or the time we stopped in Adak, Alaska on our way through the Bering Straights and sea water froze to the hull. Or the time we were using "dud" O2 candles for garbage weight and accidentally set the TDU on fire. Or the time we stole XO's stateroom door. Or the time we put a stuffed pair of khaki pants and deck shoes in the stall in the officer's head. Or the time the sea lion made himself at home on the Pioneer array.

Smells are a powerful thing. I don't know what combination of car exhaust, suburban vegetation, fast food, and garbage is necessary to recreate that smell, but for sure it was a one-in-a-million fluke.