That Dotted Line

Dear Citizens of the United States of America,

I am writing to you, my fellow country men and women, today from a place far away.  Far away from family, far away from friends, far away from comforts, far away from home.  I am in deserts where temperatures soar to 120 degrees, to jungles with never-ending rain.  I work with long hours, poor training, little pay, minimal personnel, and equipment which is usually older than I am.  I have claimed a canvas tent for a home, a weapon for a pet, fellow military as my family, my supervisor for my parent, and danger for my best friend.

Yes, I chose to be here.  For many different reasons.  I put my name on that dotted line and swore myself to service.  Yes, I get payed to be here.  Yes, I get benefits.  But I can promise you, the reason I am here today is because someone filled these boots before me.  I am here to defend my family, my friends, and defend this great country that gave me the choice, the opportunity, the right, to proudly sign my name on that line.  No matter my reasons for joining, that is why I put on this uniform every day and do what I do.  I do it for you.  I do it so that you may lead the life you wish.  I surrender many things that I enjoy and love, and many take for granted, so that I may serve my country.  I put myself willingly in harm’s way, so that I know you will be safe.

And I only want to say one thing, in all humbleness and in great respect.

You are welcome, it was my honor.
The Members of the United States Military

“A veteran is someone who, at one point in his life wrote a blank check made payable to ‘The United States of America’ for an amount of ‘up to and including my life.’ ”
— Author Unknown

Airman Leadership School

Airman Leadership School (ALS) was a challenging and grueling experience.  High stress and an extreme amount of work.  And overall, at least in hind-sight, rewarding and enjoyable.

The big deal about this class is if you don’t pass, you don’t get the next rank of Staff Sergeant.  The big deal about THAT rank is it’s the first Non-Commissioned Officer rank, the first real leadership rank.  (and an increase of $200-$300 in monthly pay)

First day of class I walked in there expecting to set aside what I wanted to be as a leader and learn the Air Force’s version of leadership so I could get through the class.  I figured I’d just have to learn the “Air Force Answer” like we do for so many things.

I sat somewhere in the middle of the group, waiting for our first instructions.  As the instructors came in they started announcing who was going to be the Class Leader and who would be the Flight Leaders.  My heart sank.  I’m one of those six-year Senior Airmans.  Most make the next rank of Staff Sergeant a year or even two before I did.  I have my excuses but it boils down to me not studying as much as I should have (or at all depending on the year we’re talking about) for the test.  But I’m probably one of the highest ranking Senior Airmen in the room.  There was ONE who had already sewn on Staff Sergeant, so he got the Class Leader position.  I was thrilled!  But the Flight Leaders came next.  I became the Flight Leader of Sabre Flight (yes that is spelled correctly.  We think it’s the old spelling of ‘saber’, the type of sword used in the Air Force Academy).  So now not only am I responsible for just me getting through this class, I’m responsible for everyone in my Flight too.

This school is 192 Academic Hours in 24 Academic Days.  The main book we used was 4 pounds.  Yes, we weighed it.  And we went through EVERY single page.  My usual day consisted of me getting up at 0500 (5:00 AM) and either heading out for PT (Physical Training) or getting on homework or study.  Get out to the school at 0800 (8:00 AM) to get the flag raised, sing the National Anthem, and recite the Airman’s Creed.  Back inside for class at 0815.  We were in class until 1500 (3:00pm) or 1600 (4:00PM) depending on the class schedule with a lunch hour.  BUT I was in the schoolhouse doing study and homework and helping others with homework most days until 1900-2000 (7-8PM) to go home to eat then more study or homework usually until 2100-2300 (9-11PM) with hopefully some sort of goofing off in between to keep a handle on the stress. Weekends consisted of study and homework too.

Distractions were a major issue.  I had to figure out how to handle my A.D.D. while in class all over again.  At work and home I do it by bouncing in between different jobs or chores.  In class there was just class.  In High School and Collage I would draw.  But with only 14 people in each Flight I thought that would be rude to the instructors.  So I ended up eating most of the class and picking on my fingers.  They’re still healing LOL.

Alex in the Draft Cart

I also got a kit to get my dog Alex trained as a Draft Dog.

This is Alexander, a Lab/Basset mix on his first run as a Draft Dog 😀 he LOVES it!  I tried to take him out every day to do some drafting through the time I was through this class.  Loaded the cart down with weights and we went off for a mile walk.

We also were scheduled right after ALS ended to get Alex certified as a Therapy Dog through TDI: Therapy Dog International.  We have been training with him for about a year and a half to get this certification and it was very important to me.  When I told this to my co-worker he said “Oh! That’s easy then.  You’ve been trying to make Staff for over three years!”  Well that put that into perspective.  Still, it was a major ‘want’.

The house was a disaster area, I had no time to clean and it was a stresser in and of itself.  I had a new 53 gallon saltwater aquarium I was working on building with a 10 gallon sump system I was building myself (which I had never done before so naturally it wasn’t working out like I imagined)  There were books I wanted to read and things I wanted to do.  Most of which I had to (at least try) set aside all in the name of ALS.

I was thrilled to find out that class didn’t involve the instructor standing in the front and preaching to us what the Air Force wanted us to know about leadership.  Most classes were guided discussions.  Where the Flight talked about our experiences and feelings about the leadership we wanted to portray and the leadership that had been an example to us, both good and bad.

I was also thrilled to find out that I DID NOT have to set aside the leader I wanted to be in order to learn for the class what the Air Force wanted me to be.  To me leadership is about taking care of the people you are responsible for.  I figured the Air Force would preach Mission! Mission! Mission!  Which it DID but it also understands that it’s the PEOPLE that make the mission happen.  Take care of your people and the people will take care of the mission.  They taught what I like to call the People Factor.  Not everyone is the same.  Not everyone will react the same way to the same leadership approach.  There is no ‘one answer’ to how you lead people.  They also stressed the importance of being on a personal level with your troops.  In our shop we tease that our supervisors are our “Daddy” or “Mommy”.  But in the military, and especially with the young Airmen that come in, sometimes we have to become that.  We’re all separated from our families back home.  That close support isn’t there like it use to be.  Sometimes we have to teach people how to become an ‘adult’ to survive.  If we don’t know our Airmen on a personal level, we’ll never know what issues they are having outside of work.  And as much as we like to say ‘Leave it at home’, it never stays there.

We had speeches to do and writing assignments.  On the final writing assignment I made ONE mistake and got a 98.  I had edited a sentence and ended up putting a period after the edit.  Well it ended up being in the MIDDLE of a sentence and it was already past 11 so I was dead tired.  The re-read didn’t turn it up so I turned it in with that HORRIBLE obvious error.  I was so mad lol.  My speeches were nothing outstanding.  I know how to write and I know how to inspire and even better, I know how to finish with a flourish but the delivery left much to be desired.  I ended up passing but that’s about it.  We also had to talk to and write bullets on our Paper Airman.  One of the class mates acted as the Airman and we had to do counseling sessions in front of the class.

Each class was told to write rules on the board that the class and instructors had to follow as well as the resulting punishment.  No cursing was a mandatory one but the punishment was left to us (10 pushups).  We added things like “First to talk when the instructor walks in” (10 pushups) Tardiness was the classic bring donuts.  We had an instructor who was OCD (or CDO as she calls it because they need to be, and I’m not kidding, in alphabetical order) who HATES desks being out of order and pen clicking.  So we made a rule that there was no complaining about desks or pens.  She then proceeded to tell us that she wasn’t going to complain, just order us to fix it XD we lost that game.  Probably the best rule, and the one that was most put into play was “No rape invitations”.  If any comment, even the smallest one delivered in innocence, could be construed to be thought of as a rape invitation, the rule-breaker had to stand up and sing the “Private Window” song and do 10 pushups.  The Private Window song goes:  “(singer wags finger in a ‘no’ gesture) No! Don’t touch me there!  (singer moves hands to outline chest area in a square) These are (singer moves to groin) my private squares!”  One had to do it twice because he sang ‘happy squares’ instead so was hit with the rule again.

The class was built to stress you out, and see if they can break you.  The book is, no kidding, arranged in an order so that you had to learn it to be able to do your work.  There’s no page numbers like a normal book and they don’t put it in order of the classes.  They pile SO MUCH learning on top of you and you have to UNDERSTAND it and not just KNOW it for the tests.  Very little was memorization.  It was almost all comprehensive.  People were constantly asking me how ALS is/was.  I ended up just telling them it was “Basic Training for the Mind”.  And it was.  In Basic Training (Boot Camp) they physically and mentally push you and stress you to break you or wear you down, then build you up in the image of the Air Force.  ALS was the same way but entirely mental.  We did do PT but we didn’t do pushups for errors outside of cursing and other rules.

All-in-all I enjoyed the experience.  If you had asked me how it was going during ALS all I could tell you was “it’s….insane” and be at a loss for words beyond that.  Just like Basic Training, the time during was stressful and straining.  But looking back, it was enjoyable and a thrill to have surpassed the challenges that had been put before us.

A Pause of Posts

I’m not disappearing on you, but I’m not sure I’ll have time to make any regular posts.  I’m going to Airman Leadership School (ALS) for the next six weeks.  It’s an intense training course to get airmen ready to sew on their first Non-Commissioned Officer (NCO) rank of Staff Sergeant and there’s an insane amount of attention and dedication required to pass.  This is for me and my career (and a nice pay-raise!) so I’m putting my all into it.  Things like this blog and my aquariums are gonna have a back-burner seat for a little while.

Sorry folks! See ya in six weeks and I’ll tell you all about it!

The Culture of Respect, and Common Courtesy – Battle of CA and TX

One of the interesting things I have discovered while traveling with the military is how much respect and common courtesy changes with the culture.

Now you don’t have to travel to other countries to see this.  I will use California and Texas as my primary examples.  Now I’m not talking about specific people here, just the general populous as I’ve viewed them.  I grew up in California so I’m intimately familiar with the people.  I had to work a long time to shed some of the things I discovered I didn’t like about the California mentality.  My husband is Texan, born and bred.  He’s a city boy, not a cowboy but I can’t tell you how many conversations we’ve had where we compare notes on the people of Texas and California.  I lived 20 years in California and 6 years in Texas.  With the familiarities of these two cultures and the two different extremes they represent I decided to use them as an example.

State Overview

Texas: they consider themselves their own country and are just hanging out with the United States for now.  They still maintain their own government, and are ready to secede at any time.  If you speak to any Texan they’ll swear up and down that they can maintain themselves as a separate country.  Most of what I’ve seen, they probably can.  I’ve also found a misconception that EVERY Texan seems to have that amuses me.  “The Texas state flag is the only flag that can fly at the same height as the American Flag!” Where in fact both the US Flag Code and the Texas Flag Code state that if flown on the same pole, the American Flag will be at the top.  When flown on separate flag poles, no flag will be higher than the American flag and no flag will be to the American flag’s own right.  I was going to post all the code for you but it was long dry and boring but that’s the sum of it.  ANY flag can be flown at the same height, the Texas flag isn’t special.  Sorry folks!

California: They are so careful not to offend “them” but completely ignore the people near by them.  They’re so defensive of everyone and so ready to not want to hurt or offend anyone I’ve heard talk of banning firearms in California!  An amendment RIGHT!  How true this is I’m not sure, I heard it from a man whom I trust but haven’t verified it.  But the scary thing is, I believe it could happen there.  California’s mentality is MEmemememe right up until they see something that might offend “them” and then they go on a holy tirade.  An example of such would be if a passer-by smells bacon from a restaurant they would go to court against the owners because that bacon smell might offend the Muslims!  Now this actually happened in the UK (and the owner and cook is Muslim) but I wouldn’t bat an eye if this happened in California.

Respect and Common Courtesy

California: I want to start with California here because that’s where I started.  The general populous is extremely rude and self serving.  Driving is a terrifying experience where you have to fight your way to get anywhere.  Respect is not acknowledging the people around you.  You don’t have a check-out clerk at the store, things just get done.  You don’t have a server at your restaurants, the food and drinks just appear.  “Hi, how are you today?” from your server or fast food worker is an invitation to start your order, not a polite greeting.  People bump into you in a store without a word of apology.  If you are stuck on the side of the road no one will pull over to help you.  But this is a place where people won’t offend you otherwise.  Everyone is so careful to be politically correct, in classrooms they have the “No child left behind” mentality.  They are thin skinned and ready to (verbally) fight.

Texas: Respect goes a long way here.  Sir and Ma’am are used for everyone from the youngest kid to the oldest adult.  (In California it is very strange to hear those words.  So much so that when I went home, my sister threatened to kick me every time I said them.  I told her she’d be kicking me a lot)  Driving isn’t as scary, folks are more likely to let you in a lane or out of a parking lot.  Depending on where you’re at.  But you also have to watch for the idiots who just don’t pay attention to anyone else.  I’ve had more car accidents and near misses in Texas than I did in California.  When you think about the difference in the number of people on the road it’s rather stunning.  “Hi, how are you today?” is a courtesy that starts a conversation even from servers and other workers.  It’s not ignored in Texas.  Some men will open doors for women and let them through first.  Everyone will pause to hold a door open to let you through if you’re close.  They will open doors for people if their hands are full.  “Excuse me” is used quite often.  When people are bumped, when in the store and you need to pass in front of what someone is viewing.  People WILL pull over if you’re stuck on the road.  I can expect this from military folk for fellow military but when I was with my husband one day going to meet some friends the Eclipse overheated.  Our friends came to give us a ride and while we were hanging out to wait for the tow truck, a civilian pulled over to ask us if we needed anything!  I can’t tell you how shock and touched I was.  And when it comes to one person’s feelings the Texas mentality is “grow thicker skin”.  They won’t walk up to you and start insulting you but they won’t go out of their way to not insult someone.  If the bacon is cooking, just don’t eat it.

California Girl in Texas Life

When I first left California I entered into the true melting pot: The military.  I had a friend of mine in Tech School from Georgia who would open doors and let me through.  I felt so shy and so strange that some one would *gasp* actually do something nice for me that I trained him to let me open doors for myself.  I had the California Feminist mentality of “I can do it myself!”.  I had to learn that it wasn’t about me not being able to do it myself, it was about courtesy.  When I got to my base here in Texas I had a good friend who grew up in Texas who would always open the car door for me.  More retraining!  At that point I could accept that someone could take a second of their time and wait for me to go through a door, but to make the effort of opening the passenger side car door, closing it, and walking all the way back around to his driver side was difficult for me to allow.  I had that same shy feeling again.  It took me a bit of time to accept this and ended up making a game of it.  He quickly learned not to unlock the car until he was at my door.  But when he married, his wife and I managed to get the best of him once 😀 He could only manage to open one of our doors while the other ducked in unassisted!  Victory!

My husband carries things for me.  Again I had to shift from the “I can do it myself!” mentality and accept that he was being a gentleman and doing something nice.  I even let him open doors for me!  He doesn’t open car doors on a regular basis which is probably for the best.  That still is kind of weird to me.

Conclusion

There is no right or wrong here, I just wanted to share my experience.  I find it interesting how different the culture is in two different places can vary so much even within the same country.  I always thought that it took traveling to a different country to experience a different culture.  And I’ve got to say it’s fun bringing the military culture to a non-military city.  It’s really amazing how easy it is to brighten someone else’s day by just acknowledging their presence and treating them with a little respect.  Especially for people in the customer service industry that little bit goes a long way to surviving the day.

Remembrance in Silence

Wing Retreat at Dyess AFB

My tribute to the 10th anniversary of 9/11 isn’t going to be some long winded speech or memorial.  I prefer to quietly reflect on that day and how it changed me and my country.  But I would like to share with you the events on Dyess Air Force Base to commemorate the event.

We started on the 8th of September with a 24 Hour Vigil Run where we carried a flag that had been flown in over 700 COMBAT hours in Iraq and Afghanistan.  That flag was carried by Dyess personnel for 24 hours in a run up and down the Air Park.  We had a 9/11 Golf Tournament (it’s the Air Force, what do you expect?) A memorial wall and a blood drive were at the Base Chapel.  I took part in the formation during Wing Retreat, filling in for an Airman who had fallen out.

Our Commander spoke a few words, then First Responders Parade was lead by the Green Knights, our military motorcycle club, and the Patriot Guard to kick off the Wing Retreat.  The National Anthem was played as the flag was lowered then folded by the Honor Guard.  The Chaplain spoke, we had a moment of silence and the playing of TAPS.

The combat flag was presented to an Abilene City Council member in thanks of the city’s support.  It will be displayed at City Hall.  They also unveiled a plaque to be placed at the base entrance.  And it is these words that I will leave you with

“Our enemies have made the mistake that America’s enemies always make.  They saw liberty and thought they saw weakness. And now, they see defeat” -President George W. Bush

Food for Thought

Deployed s'mores

Food isn’t something most people think about outside of “what should I have for dinner“.  You pick your favorite restaurant, cook your favorite meal, get your favorite snacks.  Most people don’t realize how important food is.  Sure, it keeps your body moving.  Eating the proper things makes you feel good and makes your body work and look it’s best!  And eating the wrong things taste so good but too much can wear your body down.

But think beyond that.  Have you ever thought how important food is for your mental well being too?  Not a lot of people do until they become severely limited in what they have access to to eat.

My personal experience comes from three sources.  Basic Training (boot camp), a natural disaster and a deployment.  Being Communications in the Air Force, 90% of the time, puts me in a well established base where we have Dining Facilities and usually a few fast food restaurants too.  I was stationed at Balad Air Base, just north of Baghdad.  We had three or four D. Facs (prounonced Dee Facks) short for Dining Facilities.  And I remember a Burger King, some sort of drink place, a Pizza Hut, and a Taco Bell.  But add on the demands of a deployment and you don’t have much time to yourself.  In my specific job out there I was one-deep.  Meaning I was the ONLY one who could do my job.  Now for smarts sake I taught the Shop Chief how to handle the mission part but he couldn’t do the whole job.  So if there was a mission going on, I was at work.  Not a big deal, made the time go by so much faster, but it did severely limit where I could eat.  My options were: the D. Fac.

Now don’t get me wrong, the food was good!  The Local Nationals (in this instance Iraqis) were the ones who actually did most of the cooking and serving.  Great group of folks too!  There was one I didn’t even need to tell what I wanted 🙂 he already knew my order. (it was tacos in case you were wondering…) What I found interesting is the food tasted different.  The spaghetti tasted like it was the same recipe, but made with a different heart. There was just…something DIFFERENT about it.  Not in a bad way but just different.

The reason I ordered tacos was two-fold.  One, by the time lunch came around, my mission was in full-swing, or about to start in any minute.  The D. Fac always had tacos, it was something easy I could ask my shop mates to grab for me.  Two, for some reason my mom sent me Del Taco hot sauce in a care package.  Probably the second-best thing that I was sent out there. (the first were Happy Birthday cookies from one of my dads 🙂 I have three dads, story for another day) Del Taco is my favorite fast food restaurant.  It exists primarily on the west coast and I spent two years working there before I joined the military.  I still love it!  Unfortunately Texas (where I’m stationed) only got a Del Taco recently (and it’s a 3hr drive).  Del Taco is one of the tastes of home for me.  Those little hot sauce packets gave me a connection to home I so desperately needed.  It’s amazing the comfort that food can provide.

When I first arrived we were limited in breakfast.  They had the usual but the eggs were those powdered easy-to-ship, never goes bad, type of eggs.  Sure they tasted like scrambled eggs…mostly.  I can’t tell you how much of an uproar (in a good way) it caused when they started bringing in fresh eggs.  We could have them any way we wanted! (at first..then they decided it was too risky to cook them any way other than over-hard and hard boiled lol) It was amazing!!  Also when I first arrived they had these amazing cheese sticks you could get at lunch.  Then suddenly they stopped having them 😦 We were all disappointed but that’s the way of deployments, you hardly ever get the food you want.  But a few months later, there they were again!  It was too funny, the word passed all the way down the line.  I’m sure it started inside the D. Fac where someone spotted them, and then it filtered back to us waiting in line.  EVERYONE was excited about their return!

I want to explain the photo for a moment.  I call those “Deployment S’mores”, everything used to make it came out of care packages.  You get inventive while you’re out there.  The gram crackers came in a care package I got from the New Apostolic Church, the Peeps from my mom (she always sends me Peeps, I love ’em 😀 ) and the M&Ms from a care packages a guy in the shop got and put into the share box.  We had to burn some of our classified material (classified shredders are in short supply, burning is an approved way to destroy classified when approved-for-classified shredders are not available) and I just HAD to make use of it!  Thus was born the Deployment S’mores.  You get inventive with MREs (Meal Ready to Eat) too.  Luckily my experience with those is more limited.  I had them for a week during Basic Training, and two weeks after Katrina.

During my six month long Tech School, every other Friday I would cook for me and my friends.  We called it “Cat Food Friday!” (My nickname is Neko, Japanese for ‘cat’) we all pitched in a few dollars and we got a home-made meal and a great time together.  We had access to the Chow Hall (state-side Dining Facilities, don’t ask me why they have different nicknames) a few fast food places on base, and off base ones limited by how far you could get in an amount of time (most of us didn’t have cars) but we all still craved that home-made taste.  Lukily we had access to a morale center called the Levitow in the Triangle (the area where the students lived) where there was a kitchen and just about everything you needed to cook with!

Food isn’t just simply a substance to survive on.  It’s amazing how important it is for morale and mental well being.  You miss, with your whole heart, that food you’re so use to.   That Burger King down the street, your dad’s spaghetti, your mom’s burritos, the way you make your tuna sandwiches.  Enjoy the little things in life!  It’s what gets us by all the tough times 🙂

The Motorcycle Tactician

Me and Tora

The picture here is of me riding my Honda CBR600RR named Tora (which means ‘tiger’ in Japanese)

Motorcycles are inherently dangerous.  They tend to attract people with a need for adrenalin and speed.  A bad combination for a vehicle with no protection other than the clothes you’re wearing (and most of those people are ‘too cool’ to wear helmets!).  On that note, even if you’re doing everything right you still have the idiot Cagers on the road.  Surviving as a biker has to do with a little bit of luck, a lot of bit of planning, the right reactions, and even more prayer.

As a new biker, you first need to get over how to actually get the bike to do what you’re asking.  And next get it to do what you’re thinking.  But after that I have discovered a new game.

I am A.D.D.  I have a very mild case that I attempt to control without the aid of drugs but because of it my mind is a whirlwind of activity.  I HAVE to keep my mind entertained.  Boredom is the worst place for me to be in.  Now in a car it’s not that big of a deal.  I can zone out  a bit and my mind can think about whatever.  Unfortunately on a motorcycle that generally will spell disaster.  Cagers (people driving four-wheeled vehicles) don’t look for us.  They don’t imagine that we’re out there on the road.  They never think that there is more than one of us.  And unfortunately we don’t have the same abilities of the Cagers to take a hit.  Unless the motorcyclist is doing something stupid, 90% of the time we are where we’re suppose to be and it’s the Cagers who cause the accident.  As a new biker you will hear everyone tell you “Ride like you’re invisible”

Put all that together and I made a new game.  Originally it was created out of necessity, then I found I really enjoyed it.  Keeps my crazy mind active and busy during the ride.  I don’t have a name for it (I know, shocker) But its basically a tactics game.  It involves knowing where I am, where I’m going to be, where the Cagers are, what they might try to do to ruin my day, and where my escape routes are.  It’s actually quite fun!

I’ve always loved tactics.  I think it’s part of what allured me to the military in the first place.  And as Communications I get to express that oh, so much…. not really.  This is why I like Strategy games so much.  But I learned all this the hard way.

My husband came by work to accompany me home.  It may be fun to ride a bike but it’s so much more enjoyable when you get to share that thrill with others.  That, and safety in numbers is while you’ll usually see packs of us out riding.  This day was the second day I had taken Tora out.  I’ve had Tora for six months now but I had JUST gotten  my motorcycle endorsement on my license the day before.  My husband had just finished fixing the R1 up after a wreck that happened about six months ago.  This was his first day back on the R1.

We had planed our way to stay out of the major traffic as much as we could.  Traffic still scared me at the time.  We turned up a street called Cat Claw and was just over a mile from home.  This old brown truck caught my eye.  It was stopped at a stop sign on our left, waiting to turn onto Cat Claw.  There was nothing special about it, but there it was, something was telling me to watch it.  I glanced at my speed, I was going 30mph.  Looked back again and this truck leaped out into the street, in front of a black SUV waiting on Catclaw to turn into his street (violating the SUV’s right of way where the truck should NEVER have pulled out).  He was on a collision course to broad-side my husband and his recently returned R1.  The truck saw him at the last second and slammed on the breaks, blocking that SUV and traffic from the other side.  We’re safe….I had thought too soon.  As soon as my husband went on by, the truck pulled out in front of me.  I was still going close to 30mph and there he was, about 30ft in front of me, going much slower and we were in a turn.  (For those unfamiliar with motorcycles when you stop, you have to be going strait or you will fall over.)  I was completely emotionally detached.  There was no panic, no fear.  I remember thinking “I should hit the horn.  No, he’d never hear it.  I should hit the break.” and then I was rolling on the ground.

I had always wondered what my reactions would be when the time came.  It happens to every biker.  I’m rather proud to say I never panicked.  I didn’t get emotional.  I remember trying to stop myself from rolling.  I spread my arms and legs out like you would if you had just fallen over.  But I’m sure I was still going close to 30mph haha.  Humans aren’t built to stop themselves at that speed.  It didn’t hurt, yet, but I just knew it wasn’t a good idea so I tucked back in and rolled.  I remember thinking that rolling over the backpack wasn’t as painful as I had imagined it would be.  I just ‘went with the flow’ and relaxed.  Let my body mold to the movement.  I know my eyes were open because I remember thinking that the ground-sky-ground-sky view through my helmet wasn’t nearly as nauseating as I imagined.

I like to plan ahead.  Obsessively.  I also, as a writer, have an extremely active and visual imagination.  When you ride a motorcycle you will get into a wreck.  It’s not a matter of if, it’s a matter of when.  It’s gonna happen.  In my imagination of worse-case scenarios what I always feared the most was ending up stopping in the middle of the street and getting run over by the car behind me.

When I finally stopped rolling I was face-down.  That fear flashed through me at the same time as I started hurting.  Well, I knew I was hurt but I wasn’t feeling it quite yet.  But out of shear adrenalin I pushed myself up to look around.  I was on a wide shoulder, completely out of reach of normal traffic.  I turned my head and saw my husband walking towards me.  I moved to wave that I was ok, but at that moment the pain hit me.  I dropped my face to the road (which, oddly enough, was the only time I damaged my helmet.  Windscreens are not meant to survive face-planting into the road) and hit my fist against the ground.

After the first flood of pain I rolled over and accessed my injuries.  My right ankle hurt and could be broken.  My left hurt but was probably sprained, both my knees were probably sprained and I had rugburns on both knees.

Later my husband told me that traffic on both sides of the road came to a screeching halt the moment of the incident.  There were TWO nurses who saw the wreck AND a volunteer ambulance guy.

Between thinking I should hit the break and then the memory of rolling on the ground, I have nothing.  What I had managed to do was lock up the back tire and send my bike spinning out from under me.  I don’t remember actually hitting the break, I don’t remember falling or hitting the ground.  There was no damage on my helmet (I still use the same one) so I never hit my head.  I suppose you could get a brain injury while spinning but honestly I think that break in memory was an angel taking over.  My experience in motorcycles at the time ran to one introductory class (in which I didn’t do well on the breaking test) and riding to and from work the day before.  If I had followed procedures I would have softly hit both breaks and probably ended up hitting the truck. (which my replay tells me I would have flown into the bed of his truck and hit my head on his window, probably causing a neck injury)  Ultimately all I ended up with was two badly sprained knees, two badly sprained ankles, and a scar above one knee from roadrash.  I spent six months in Physical Therapy to build back up to running again.  And as a testament to my gear, my mesh motorcycle jacket was slightly frayed and my motorcycle gloves were torn at the seams of the palms.  Unfortunately I was wearing my ABU (Airman Battle Uniform) pants and my combat boots.  You would think that a double-layered, made for battle uniform would be ok.  Nope, the road shredded through both layers.  In addition to that, it ate my boots too.  Right through the strongest part of the side of it!  I miss those boots.  I had gone to Iraq and back with them 😦

But out of all this I learned that I can handle emergency situations with the right mind.  Which can come in handy in my line of work!  I also learned to be paranoid about wearing my gear.  Minimum requirements for the Air Force is long sleeve shirt with contrasting colors, pants, gloves, helmet and eye protection, and supportive over the ankle shoes.  So basically I can wear my uniform, garden gloves, a helmet, and a reflective vest and the Air Force says I’ll be ok. Obviously that’s not enough, as I discovered, even at 30MPH.  You know, that may be the minimum but I’m sure glad that I went out and spent the money on some good gear.  $80 gloves, $150 jacket (on sale) $400 helmet (on sale, go Shoei!) And even in the 100+ degree weather we’ve been having I still gear up to ride the two miles to work.  The speed limit for base is 30MPH.  I’ve seen what 30MPH can do to me!  Although sometimes I do wish that I was too stupid to wear my gear haha.

The last thing I learned is “Don’t ride faster than your guardian angel can fly!”

Military Oxymoron…

Me in MOPP4! (and reflective belt!)

Hi!  Well I’m a  bit more of a ‘minority’ than an ‘oxymoron’ but oxymoron sounded like more fun!  Let me explain. No I am not Military Intelligence.  I am a female.  Yes yes I know, there are quite a few females out there in the military.  It goes deeper than that.  I am a Cyber Transport Systems Technician.  That’s the Air Force’s fancy new way of saying “Network Tech”.  I kinda miss our old AFSC’s name.  “Computer Networking and Cryptographic Switching Systems Technician”  Mouthful hu?  But let me put this oxymoron thing into prospective for you.  In six years I’ve worked with two other females.  And in our Squadron of about 150 personnel, we have nine females.  That’s including civilians by the way.

Ooo some more fun non-traditional female activity that I engage in: I am a gamer.  That’s right guys, drool it out.  Sorry I’m already taken.  I’ve played video games ever since I can remember.  Waaaay back in the days of Atari.  I know I’m dating myself here.  I was young then.  I remember when my neighbor had a Super Nintendo with Mario Brothers.  Oohh how I felt bad because video games were not a girl thing to do but I loved it just the same.  Never did grow out of it.  My tastes gear towards RTS and RPGs  including MMOs.  Mostly it’s World of Warcraft (where, no don’t laugh, I met my husband) with a little EVE for a while.  I tried Star Trek Online, Lord of the Rings Online, and we’re looking forward to Knights of the Old Republic Online.

I also like to work on my own vehicles, I know Self Aid Buddy Care which comes from being in the military but I also find as important in the ‘real world’ too.  I build my own computers and troubleshoot my own computer issues.  I enjoy firearms as both an eventual necessity in target practice and the fun of skeet shooting!

Oh yeah, I’m also a biker.  No, not those human-powered bicycles, I’m talkin’ about two wheels powered by 1000ccs between my thighs.  I ride a Yamaha YZFR1.  He’s a bit of a whiner but once you let him have his head and just go with it he’s my winged iron horse!  His name is Sigh.  Yes I name my things.  Mostly just the things I love like motorcycles, cars, computers, and the like.  Something I can project a personality on.  Sigh has gone through several names.  The first being BB or Butt Buster! (you try riding two-up for 2k miles on an unexpected motorcycle trip and tell me that’s not a good name!) then he went to being “The R1” for a long time while my husband had claim of him.  When he turned back into my hands I had a good mind to give him a good name.  I started with Iron Horse but it just wouldn’t stick.  But then I noticed that every time we got out on the road, even just to go to work, I would sigh.  It was like there was a release.  Just for that time, even just the few miles to work, we were free.  So his name is Sigh.  Soft name for a mean bike but hey!  He and I like it :3 (or so I tell him)

Honestly I’m not sure what I plan on filling out this blog with.  The unique perspective of a female in my situation?  My never-ending strive to become a better leader and a better person?  Maybe just whatever comes my way.  I guess we’ll find out together