The Big Wheel

Where in the world...

because my DH is too busy biking while back home (supposed to be with his wife) in VA, , Vecsus' wife is posting photos of his trip to Troy and Assos a couple weeks ago.
(Scud, you enabler you!)   :)Thanks alot, i now have a bike and dirty ride gear back in the house again!

~the mtn bike widow,
Tammy

Here are the photos: Troy/Assos trip photos

Pictures of Germany

This is Vecsus' wife...since he is too busy traveling to post, i will post some pictures that Vecsus has taken. I think these are all from Germany. (he was there first, then Spain, now currently in Norway)




PICTURES OF GERMANY
 

Heading out of Town

Well, even further out of town than I already am.  Tomorrow morning I leave for a a week in Oberammergau, Germany for a week of training.  From there I head straight to Las Palmas, Spain fo (in the Spanish Canary Islands) for a week to conduct an evaluation of the NATO unit there.  Two days after I return from Spain I am headed up to Stavanger, Norway to participate in a counter-IED experiment.  I'll be in Norway for 10 days. 

Hopefully I will have enough time and opportunity to take some pictures on these visits.  If I have time and internet access I will attempt to make a few entries to let people know how I am doing.  Of course, I might be too busy enjoying myself to fit blogging into my schedule. 

FTD and DHL can KMA

(KMA = Kiss My Ass)

On Tuesday, 26 August I ordered flowers for my wife at FTD.com.  I didn’t order anything goofy or rare – simply a collection of pink roses and calla lilies in a nice square vase.  Before finalizing the order I saw that the flowers would be delivered on 28 August.  A few hours later I received an email from FTD with a DHL tracking number.  I pulled up the DHL website and set up an email alert notification request so I could keep track of the order.

The next morning I checked the status and got an uneasy feeling when I saw that the order was being shipped from Florida.  You would think a big company like FTD would have an office a little closer to Virginia than Florida.  On the 28^th I checked the status again and saw that at 6:42AM the flowers had arrived in Chantilly Virginia.  I continued to monitor the website for notification that the flowers were out for delivery.  Meanwhile I was on skype with Tammy and fighting down the urge to tell her that a truck should soon arrive with a gift from me.

I am so glad I did not tell her to expect anything because they never arrived.  This morning (29 Aug) I checked the DHL site again and the status had not changed.  So before heading to work I fired off two emails.  One to FTD and one to DHL.  When I got back from work today I had a response from FTD telling me that the flowers never arrived in Virginia and that the new estimated deliver date is Saturday afternoon….two days after the original date.  Well I am leaving early Sunday for a 2-week trip so I wanted the flowers to arrive before leaving (I want credit damn it!)

So I used skype to call the FTD 1-800 number to complain.  I wish I had a transcript of the conversation that took place because it was funny.  They don’t know where the flowers are but were willing to call a local florist to have a substitute arrangement sent.  I asked if it would contain pink roses and while calla lilies and they said no…it would be a mixed arrangement.  However, they did tell me that if I wanted to pay another $20 they could have some long-stem roses sent.  I asked them what makes them think I want to pay them MORE money to fix their mistake. 

Knowing that my original order was never going to arrive before leaving on my trip, I told them to cancel the order and refund my money.  They hate the prospect of losing money so the girl was trying to think of other options.  Once again she talked about a crappy mixed arrangement which I had already said no to.

Impatient with the first customer dis-service rep, I asked to speak to a manager.  The manager wasn’t much more helpful than the first chuckle-head.  She made me the same upgrade offer and I turned it down.  She then said she would call around to some local florists to see what she could find that was comparable to my original order.  I am now waiting on an email response from them telling me what sort of arrangement they are able to find from a local vendor. 

After talking to FTD I called DHL to ask them where my order was.  Turns out they don’t scan individual items when they are loaded onto the plane.  They scan the big box that the item is SUPPOSED to be in.  Guess my wife’s flowers were not in the big box.  The DHL rep then noticed that FTD had already put a cancellation on my original order and the entire package is scheduled to be destroyed as soon as it shows up somewhere (cheaper than sending it back I guess).  So not only will my wife not get the arrangement I picked out (or the note I had them include), the flowers will be tossed into the dumpster.  Maybe some under-paid dock worker will find them and bring them home to his wife and score some free brownie points. 

So the lesson you all need to take from this is that both FTD and DHL suck.  Their inventory tracking is horrible.  Their customer service is more concerned about making money than providing the service that customers pay for.  Avoid them.  Get your flowers at a local florist and use FEDEX or UPS to send your packages. 

Resort Crasher

I'm sure everyone is familiar with the concept of wedding crashing - it's when someone shows up at a strangers wedding just to take advantage of the free food, drinks, and entertainment.  Well today I did something similar at a private resort in Taos, Turkey. 

A couple friends of mine are avid scuba divers.  One of the sites they dive from is located alongside a private resort.  Today I went with them to Taos but since I don't dive, I just hung out at the beach and did some snorkeling in the cove that the resort guests use.  I needed a place to set all my stuff and hang out while taking a break from swimming around.  The guy that runs the dive shop said that since it's the end of the vacation season I could get away with using one of the beach chairs at the resort.  So that is what I did.  My friends hopped into a boat and went out to sea for 3 hours of scuba diving.

 After about 45 minutes in the water I decided to take a break.  Just as I was starting to read my book, a guy carrying a tray and wearing all white asked me, in English, if I could like anything to drink.  I said sure, a water and a beer.  I watched as the turkish cabana boy worked his way down the beach with a tray full of drinks for other people.  Being an observant guy, I noticed that no one was paying for their drinks.  So I didn't pay either. 

  I read my book a while and enjoyed a second free beer then decided to take another swim.  As I swam back up towards the beach, I saw people walking out of a covered building with plates of food.  My watch confirmed what my stomach had already told me:  lunch time.  So I rinsed the salt water off me under fresh-water shower and went to check out the food situation.  Grilled chicken, salad, pasta, bread, and other assorted snacks.  I scanned the area for a register, checks on tables, or some other indication that there was a cost associated with lunch.  Nothing...not even a price list on a wall or a guy stationed at the end of the line.  So I grabbed a plate and dove in.

  Belly full of free food, I settled back into my lounge chair to wait for my 30-minute post-meal timer to expire before making a third trip out into the water.  Below you will see a few of the pictures I took while swimming.  Sorry, no pictures of the buffet line because that might have blown my "I belong here" persona.  

When my friends finally got back from their dive they were tired, thirsty, and starving.  I waited until we made a stop at a store on the way home before telling them about how I crashed the resort.  Yeah, a nice guy might have told them while we were still there but I was afraid their arrival would alert the resort staff that they had been infiltrated by scummy scuba divers.   They had their fun and I had mine.

 

Story Time

It wasn't my bedtime but tonight I was treated to a story by my loving and thoughtful wife.  A new edition of BIKE magazine showed up in the mailbox.  The cover article was all about riding in the Harrisonburg Virginia area - the area where my local bike club MORE holds camping trips a few times each year.  It's also the location of the SM100 endurance race. 

Rather than making me wait until mid-September, Tammy read me the entire story via skype.  She even held the magazine up to the camera so I could see the pictures.  It made me very homesick to hear the author describe the trails and provide quotes from some of the locals that I've met and ridden with in the past.  At one point in the article the author commented that he almost felt like he was getting away with something because he was having so much fun.  I know exactly how he feels.  I have not only felt that same feeling...I am currently experiencing the exact opposite - I feel like I am missing out on something.

I can't wait until I get home in March/April of 2009.  I'll have to plan a nice long road trip to hit all the trails along the mid-atlantic coast.  Places like Shenandoah Mountains and Douthat State Park in Virginia, Tsali North Carolina, and Canaan West Virginia.

Weekend Plans Cancelled

This was supposed to be a fun and exciting weekend.  I had planned to go on a weekend trip to a town called Marmaris.  We were going to stay in a 4-star all0-inclusive hotel and go white-water rafting on Saturday.   Notice how I am speaking in the past tense? 

Thursday mornings we have mandatory PT (physical training).  While on a half-mile warm-up jog I noticed that the muscles in my back were a little stiff.  I figured I just needed to warm up and stretch a little more.  Part of our warm-up routine was jumping jacks.  I managed to do a grand total of ONE jumping jack when the muscles on the left side of my back seized up on me.  I tried to stretch it out but it just got worse.  Jogging hurt but things like pushups didn't.  I went to see the doc and she could definitely tell that I was having muscle spasms.  She game me motrin and flexerall and told me that white-water rafting was definitely out of the question. 

I was tempted to go on the trip anyway and just chill at the hotel all weekend but the thought of a 4-hour bus ride didn't thrill me much since I'm uncomfortable just sitting in my apartment.  So I decided to stay home.  What should have been a fun, thrilling weekend has turned into a weekend of senses dulled by muscle relaxers and boredom. 

Rescue Mission

So I wake up this morning and decided I would go for a ride.  I didn't have a destination in mind - I just figured I would head "UP".  There are mountains all around the city (aside from the part along the Aegean) so it would not be difficult to get in a couple hours of climbing then a nice easy coast back down.

I packed up all my gear and just before heading out, I figured I should probably bring my camera just in case I found a good overlook of the city.  Problem was....my camera was nowhere to be found.  I looked all over the apartment.  Then I started thinking about where I last had it.  With a feeling of deep dread I suddenly realized where it was. 

Before telling you where my camera was I must first rewind to last weekends ride.  Last Saturday I rode the EVK-3 trail with Ned and Zafir.  On on particularly nasty part of the the trail I flipped over the bars and rolled down the hill into a bunch of scraggly brush.  No major damage, just some scratches.  I got back on the bike and caught up with the other two.  About 30 minutes later we were at the top of the hill at a small vendor selling snacks and drinks.  I decided to buy a bottle of water to top off my camelbak.  With another feeling of deep dread (with pre-dates todays feeling of deep dread) I noticed that the zipper to the cargo section was open and that my wallet was gone. 

Having a pretty good idea where my wallet was, I rolled back down to the section where I had crashed and with only 30 seconds of searching, found my wallet in the brush.  I packed it away, zipped up the bag, and caught back to to Ned and Zafir.

Now back to todays feeling of deep dread.  As I stood there looking at my camelbak I suddenly knew what happened to my camera.  And if you, dear reader, have any intuition at all, you will know exactly what happened to the camera.  In my elation over finding my wallet, I did not consider what else might have fallen out of my bag. 

So with a completely unnecessary sense of urgency (its been there a week so another few hours won't matter right?) I packed up and headed out to EVKA-3.  I had never ridden directly to the trail on my own - the other two times I followed someone.  Nevertheless, I was able to find it without too much trouble.   I worked my way up the trail to the now-infamous downhill section that has so rudely tried to claim my stuff.  It took me a few minutes of moving around brush but I did eventually find my beloved camera.  It was laying in the shrubs almost directly under where my wallet had been a week prior. 

With a sense of great relief, I packed up, zipped up, and with a huge smile on my face I rode the rest of the trail then hopped on the road back to my apartment.  While riding back I considered not even posting this little story because I know Tammy will want to kick me for almost losing that camera but a good story needs to be told, regardless of the consequences. 

Let's hope that when try to figure out where to ride next weekend there won't be a minor disaster helping me decide.

Hating the Pavement

Caveat:  If this post offends any roadies.....tough shit.  For those that don't know what a roadie is, they are cyclists that ride lightweight skinny-tired bikes on only on pavement.  They are afraid of getting dirty.  They obsess over max heart rates, optimum pedal cadence, and sustained power output.  They disdain dirt, mud, rocks, roots, and ruts....the stuff that make mountain bikers drool.  Anyway, enough preamble...on with the post.

I despise pavement!  Roads are meant to be driven on, not ridden on.  Roads are what a mountain biker takes to get to buff singletrack trails.  But here in Turkey I don't have a car and there are no buff singletrack trails.  Here I am forced to ride miles and miles of car-packed pavement to get to a trail that I would never ride back in the states.  By the time I get to the trail, a third of my physical energy is gone and over half of my mental energy has been sacrificed to the maddening pace of big-city traffic. 

On a good mountain bike ride, the sounds and smells of the trail are amazing.  Tires rolling across last seasons pine needles. Birds calling to one another.  The skittering sound of squirrels rushing into the underbrush. The smell of growing things...trees, moss, flowers. It's all so very calm and soothing.  Sometimes I stop just to absorb my surroundings (oh, and to catch my breath).

  In contrast, riding on pavement is maddening.  The constant steady hum of tires on pavement.  The incessant honking of horns.  The fumes spewing out of cars and buses.  Nothing about riding on pavement is relaxing.  Except for stoplights, I never stop on a road ride.  My goal is to get to my destination as quickly as possible. 

And that is the difference between riding pavement and riding on singletrack:  the goal of the ride.  When I am on my mountain bike I want to ride until I run out of energy.  On the road I want it to be over as quickly as possible.  Mountain biking is about the ride, road riding is about the destination. 

Some people enjoy the long distances and fast speeds of road riding.  Good for them.  I just can't wrap my mind around how someone can enjoy the utter monotony of it.  Keep your stead-cadences, pace lines, matching shirt/shoes/socks/helmet.  Give me trees, dirt, roots, and rocks.  Give me off-camber descents and the exhileration of a blind switchback on a new trail.  Give me fat tires.  Give me singletrack or give me death!

Weekend Boat Trip

It has been brought to my attention that someone out there actually checks my blog often enough to notice I have not updated it in a while.   One person out of 5 Billion is better than I was hoping for.

Last weekend I went on a 1-day boat trip on the Aegean.  We drove about an hour from Izmir to the city of Cesme (pronounced Cheshmay).  We were under the impression that we'd be the only group on the boat but when we arrived there were already about 30 people on it.  Add the 25 we brought and space became limited.  Luckily I was able to grab a great spot at the back of the boat that was in the shade most of the time.  I like getting a decent tan but the trip was supposed to last 5 hours and I didn't want to get fried.  Here is a picture of me chillin out with a beer with a small island and beautiful blue-green water in the background. 

 

Of course we did not just sit there on the boat all day.  We made three stops in different coves.  At stops one and two I did some swimming.  Normal people walked down to the first deck (there were 3 levels) and used the ladder to get into the water. But several of us were brave enough to jump off the boat.  Here is a picture of the boat taken from the water.

This one was a lucky shot because my camera does not take fast pics.  No, that is not me in the picture but that top level is where I was jumping from.

While we traveled from one cove to the next they played Turkish dance music and a lot of the Turks got up to dance.  I will be merciful and skip on posting a pic of the huge fat guy that was out there dancing.  The second stop we made was at a place they call Donkey Island.  I guess it's where they send all the retired donkeys they use to pull vegetable carts in the city.  I will leave you with a picture of me and one what may well be the Mayor of Donkey Island.