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Tango Tango Seven you copy? The radio asked. I picked it up and listened to the order. Ok Hans, ready for your first flight over a combat zone? Yeah, he said with mild enthusiasm. I smiled, that’s good. Kurgan stomped down the dirt stairs and into the bunker. He had to hunch to keep his helmet from knocking on the wooden rafters. Is there an attack? Hans asked. Easy killer, Kurgan explained, they just need overwatch for an infil. Oh, Hans said, slightly deflated, he had his FPV goggles in his hand. I noticed and said, don’t worry you’ll be putting those on soon enough. This job is just as important. Ten minutes later Hans was looking at a phone-sized screen on a drone controller. The drone was high in the air looking down on two Bradly IFV’s and a Booker light tank as they made their way across the Texan plains. I sat nearby sipping an energy drink and watching the same scene on a tablet. There, see the trench line? It just came into view. Hans smiled, he flew the drone with ease. He s...

Hans looked like shit. Waking up early was not his thing and we had gotten up really early. Plus the humvee we were riding in didn’t have seats, so each bump and rut in the rugged dirt road tossed him side to side or bounced him off the bed of the truck. I thought the driver was doing pretty good considering he was wearing night vision goggles and driving down a tree lined road on a moonless night. Hans also wasn’t used to wearing body armor and a helmet. The bullet proof vest kept riding up making him look like a turtle retracting its head into a shell. I adjusted his helmet to fit him once, then he messed with the adjustment straps and now it rolled around on his head like a salad bowl.  The Kurgan squated at the tailgate, holding himself upright with a rifle and peering into the darkness like a gargoyle. Inside the humvee was loud, but I was sitting close enough to the passenger to hear him key the radio. Whiskey Two Four we are approaching Tango Tango Seven, do you still have a...

Chapter 3 I’m gonna go mount this new sight and hit the range, Kurgan said as we walked out of the depot. Ok, me and Sam McGee here are going over to the shop so I can show him where the magic happens. Kurg gave a low key salute and started walking towards the armory.  How about an animal? Are there any animals you like? Preston stared at me blankly, it started to dawn on me how awkward and out of place this question sounded.  We both started to talk at the same time, neither of us hearing the other. Then there was another pause. For your callsign, I mean . Ohhh, Preston sighed in relief. I thought you meant like, for a pet. You know first we got our groceries and then I got a new jacket. I thought you meant that some guys get pets, so I was thinking of something small like a hamster, maybe a bird. I started laughing, no one had made me laugh in a long time, it felt good. Getting into the golfcart, I said, No, the callsign, you’re just going to need one soon. You haven’t thoug...

Hello you beautiful people. I am still getting some rides in, but I've also started a night EMT class. It will be running until December so I don't have much time for blogging. Instead of letting the blog sit fallow, I'm going to post my war novel a couple chapters at a time. I started it when the Ukraine war was a new thing and never did anything with it. So I now present you...Fly. Our battered EV pulled into the lot across from the army base and parked next to a ‘24 Ford Bronco. I regarded the Bronco as the first significant  model to roll out after the covid pandemic and also the last to roll out before car production ceased for the war. It was an automotive time capsule.  My wife got out and walked to the passenger side to open the door for me. Not as an act of chivalry, but because a replacement interior door handle was impossible to find. She took my hand as we walked to the gate. It was nice to see the girls, I said. I’m so proud of both of them. I felt her squeeze ...

 It was the mid-nineties, a glorious time to be alive. I was starting my transition from Denver rave kid into mountain town ski bum. My bicycling life was also transitioning from BMX freestyler into mountain biker. My '89 Haro Master had served me well as a ramp ridin' trick machine, but it was no longer needed. I gave it to my good buddy Randy. Some time after I moved to Leadville I was visiting him and he told me he had something for me. He explained he had traded the Haro for another bike and now I needed to take it. That was the first time I saw the Firestone Silver Cruiser  . I was immediately taken by the chromed cantilever frame and shining chrome fenders. I didn't know I needed a cruiser bike in my life, but here it was.  You hear the phrase "all original " thrown around which sounds a lot better than " never maintained, worn out and faded." But this rig was exactly that, nothing had been changed since it was assembled some time in the olden days...

 I went into the 25/26 season with an Ikon 3-pack of day tickets. December, January and February blew by while I kept mt. biking and focusing on fire stuff. I told people I'd use them when the snow got good. Climate change brought us the lowest snowfall in recorded history, so by the end of March and I needed to use these tickets. I contacted my brother in-law who works at Monarch to see if he was around and he said I should join him at Monarch and he'd have a comp ticket for me. With four days lined out, gear was loaded into my fine German steed and the mountain roads unwound before me. First stop Mary Jane. The parking lot scene was pretty mellow. A few aging campers circled a portable fire pit and shared their thoughts on the snow conditions. They advised going to the Winter Park side. I chatted up a parking lot attendant and thanked him for his service. He too said if I want anything decent, go to WP. I slipped into my boots and looked up at the runs. Brown dirt patches lit...

The Toyota pickup truck pulled into the big parking lot at the top of Monarch pass and the four of us piled out into the cold mountain air. I saw a thin sheet of ice covering the puddle at my feet and I stepped down on it. Cracks formed and water seeped through with a satisfying crunch.  Cliffy pulled a knit beanie down over his ears and said, you guys still think this is a good idea? I’m gonna be so pissed if we freeze to death. Each word puffed a small cloud out in front of him. Relax, it’ll warm up, I said, my teeth chattered, once we get moving.  Kevin lifted the mountain bikes off of the padded tailgate and we leaned them against the Tacoma. Each of us started running through our own pre-ride checklists. For this trip we were switching out much of our standard mountain biking gear for warmer, thicker stuff. We also packed extra food water and headlamps in case the ride went long. Aww shit, Matt said, I only brought bike gloves. He held the thin cycling gloves and continue...