Syrian Refugees

Depending on the news of the day, I will scroll through my Facebook feed to find good articles people post.  Invariably, people will post articles that agree with their perceptions of events, but that is good.  My news feed becomes a news aggregator – my own personal Drudge Report (but inclusive of liberal articles as well).

Every so often, there is a universality of uselessness in the articles people post and surface on my newsfeed.  Articles heavy on opinion as well as cherry-picked facts – facts only shared to support the heavy opinionating.  Not interested in those.

The first article I spotted that had useful information in it was here (additional primary sources derived from the article: this and this), indicating that 4 out of 5 migrants pouring into Europe were NOT from Syria.  Hmmmmm….

Then followed a long period of unproductive reading for me.  I eventually spotted this from Senator Carper, which, interestingly, rung my bell a bit.  I had, for a long time, been casually reading through various news sources (to include the aggregator of Facebook) to find source material that would help me formulate an opinion on the topic dominating my Facebook feed, and was reminded by the good Senator that maybe I should be looking to scriptural sources for guidance (to be sure, others, including my own church leaders, had suggested the same.  But, I learned long ago, that sometimes, you gotta hear it from someone else.  One’s mind isn’t always open sufficiently to hear things from the “usual suspects”.  Someone that you don’t expect it from – like a politician – can sorta smack on you the back of the head and get your attention.  Senator Carper’s statement had that effect on me.)

What I liked about Senator Carper’s statement was not only that it assisted in reorienting my thinking on the issue, but it also, for the first time in my recent reading, actually provided useful information on the refugee process.

This was further expanded on during the Senate Committee on Homeland Security and Government Affairs (HSGAC) hearing held on this topic the other day.  It’s a long hearing, but tremendously informative.  A grown up conversation held by grown ups.  A few nuggets I pulled from it:

• Senator Carper’s statement that there’s a long process by which someone can obtain refugee status from the US;
• There is, indeed, not a lot of intel available to validate claims of applicants from Syria;
• If there isn’t sufficient information available to validate claims of applicants, the process will kick that applicant out of the candidate pool.
• The bill passed by the House to address this issue does little more than to require that relevant federal agencies “certify” that the process already in place for screening a refugee applicant is adhered to (a reporting requirement)
• As I wrote to a friend earlier, the bill was written to give the finger to the President and express Congress’s lack of faith in his Administration to administrate important things correctly; the President’s veto threat is a finger back at Congress for meddling in things that, technically, don’t need* meddling (since there’s already a screening process in place); and the House’s passage by overwhelming bipartisan numbers is an acknowledgement by Congress that the voters are jittery about this issue.
• *I say don’t “need” meddling because the bill doesn’t actually propose to change anything in the actual process that evaluates a refugee applicant.  The applicant doesn’t have to go through a single step more than if the bill were never passed.  So, if Congress didn’t see fit to change the actual process – other than adding a lame reporting requirement – then, Congress doesn’t think the process  “needs” meddling.
• The news coverage on this bill, and claims by all parties as to what this bill does and doesn’t do is abhorrent.  The bill is 5 pages long – in the GPO print format. Which means it’s actually 1 page long in normal single-space type.  Read the bill and you’ll know that Congress did NOT “close the door” on refugees.  They didn’t impeded refugees in the slightest way.  They just required the President to certify that his agencies followed the existing process.
• The Administration’s lead witness in the hearing indicated that the House bill “doesn’t really add anything” to the process. 

So, this is all useful information to me. 

Returning to the admonition of many to use the Holy Word for guidance on how to approach this issue, it must be said that I can find 10 references in the scriptures to support embracing the refugees, and 10 references in the scriptures to oppose it.  The scriptures are a spiritual guide.  And matters of the spirit can only be understood with the companionship of the Holy Spirit.  So, while the scriptures have many practical do’s and don’ts, it is not a step-by-step in all things – at least, not the New Testament which contains the “higher law” the Savior ushered in.  Further, it is my belief that the Holy Spirit only communicates direction to us when we are willing, before receiving His guidance, to accept and act on whatever direction He gives us.

(Sorry for the gospel doctrine according to Krikava, but I’m explaining how I came to my conclusions on this issue – not necessarily how you will come to yours.)

So, with the scriptures as a starting point, I feel compelled (or inclined) to be helpful to the refugees.  Matthew 25:38 gives me a starting point, as it seemeth good and applicable.  I want to help.  But the help I want to offer then must be mitigated against the risk that is most certainly out there.  That’s what the refugee application, review, and analysis process is for.  That mitigates risk.  One can never mitigate all risk away.  Just as I can never (nor would I ever accept) all mitigation measures to protect me from the risks associated with flying on commercial airlines, I must be able to admit that there is a certain amount of risk I am willing to accept if I want to adhere with my starting point of wanting to help.

Incidentally, I think the risk associated with refugees coming is less about the possibility that there may be lunatics among them; but, rather, that they will bring with them an utter lack of understanding of the Rule of Law.  Not understanding or adhering to the Rule of Law – by either immigrants or citizens – is the great threat to our Republic.  But that’s a topic for another time.

So, I support bringing in Syrian refugees (and refugees from other areas).  I support fully implementing the background checking measures we have in place.  Once they’re in, it is our job to love them, support them, cultivate them (e.g. help them understand the Rule of Law), and show them what being an American is all about: working hard, playing by the rules (Rule of Law), and loving your neighbor.

We are NOT to harass them, drive them out or our communities or states, or slap a scarlet letter on their chests.

That’s how I feel, and why I feel the way I do.

The Case for Chris Christie

The other day, while walking into the community center to vote, a couple of folks (one Republican and one Democrat) struck me up for a conversation.  While having a good natured chat about the local items on the ballot, the Democrat asked me who, among the current bunch running for the Republican nomination for President, I favor.

Interestingly, no one had asked me yet, so I hadn’t been forced to really think about it too much.  But, standing there, on the spot, I began to speak/think out loud.  It went something like this:

Well, I guess I could split the bunch into 3 categories: 1) The Outsiders, who are currently doing well in the polls (Carson, Fiorina, and Trump); 2) The Senators (Cruz, Graham, Paul, Rubio, and Santorum; and 3) The Governors (Bush, Christie, Gilmore, Huckabee, Jindal, Kasich, and Pataki).

Group 1 – The Outsiders: I generally don’t like these folks.  Not because they lack the proper governing philosophy (conservatism to one degree or another), but because they lack governing experience.  It’s easy to claim that career politicians are the blame for the troubles that vex our nation, but that brand of thinking is lazy and faulty.  My response to this thinking is found in my August 9, 2010 blog.  Beyond that, I’ll point to, really, what I think is the best example of why I don’t want a newbee in the White House: President Obama.  Regardless of what you think of his liberal philosophy, he has shown that he can’t administrate himself out of a wet paper bag – let alone manage a ~4.1million person workforce composed largely of people you can’t simply fire (not saying it’s right.  Just saying it is).

So these folks don’t cut it in my book.

Group 2 – The Senators: Similar trouble as the Outsiders.  Managing a staff of 50 (who you can fire for wearing a neck tie that displeases you) isn’t quite the same as managing the aforementioned staff of ~4.1 million.  Being in the Senate can give you some valuable experience in examining the faults and common problems throughout the federal government.  But that can only happen if you’ve been in the Senate for a good chunk of time and bothered to show up to do committee work from time to time (out goes half of this group).  For the two who did spend any time of note in the Senate, conducting oversight and getting to know some parts of the executive branch – for these two in particular, I still don’t know why they’re running.

So these folks largely don’t cut it for me either.

Group 3 – The Governors: For the most part, these folks are approaching the governing philosophy from the right direction, and they have experience to varying degrees running the executive branch of government – at a state level.  So, among these, who catches my attention?

Bush – I have troubles with him not because of him, but because something inside of me doesn’t think it’s good for America to have a 3^rd person from any family as President in such close generational proximity to the others.

Gimore, Huckabee, Jindal, and Pataki – why are they running?

Kasich – Seems to be a fairly decent dude.  Good executive experience at the federal level, as well as in a governor’s mansion.  About as interesting as dish water, but that really shouldn’t be a disqualifier.  I’m not voting for someone based on whether they’d be an interesting person to chat with at the bar.  I want someone who can govern.

Christie – My thoughts on him are based largely on what a deeply entrenched and high ranking Democrat party political operative (who will remain nameless) in New Jersey once confided to me: “that guy can govern.  He’s on the other team, but the state government actually works in New Jersey now.  I’ve never seen anything like it.  He brought in people who know how to manage, and this state is actually functioning properly for the first time in all of my experience.”  This was coming from an absolute political hack who hated admitting anything positive about Christie!

To me, that's much of what a President (Article II of the Constitution) is about – implementing and enforcing laws.  For all of the moaning we have about government bureaucracies, they are simply (for the most part) implementing programs that Congress passed at the behest of their constituents. 

If we’re going to have these departments, agencies, and programs, shouldn’t they at least be properly run?  Once they are truly and properly being operated, then we can have an honest discussion about whether or not some of the programs they are implementing should expire, or be reauthorized by Congress.  Until then, you never really know if the program is lousy because it’s a bad idea, or if it’s lousy because no one bothered to implement it correctly.

This was more or less my thinking-out-loud-answer to the two fellows I was chatting with outside the community center.

Chris Christie is my guy because he’s gotten the begrudging admiration from his (privately) honest adversaries, because he’s conservative (but not a lunatic), because he’s an experienced chief executive of an executive branch of government, and lastly, but not least, he seems awfully genuine.  On that last point, perhaps I'll concede a little bar-stool thinking into my decision making.

Go Governor Christie.  I hope you make it!

The Perils and Protections of Downtime

So, I have a routine most days.  This is not a function of laziness.  Rather, I've adopted routines and habits in life as a means to creating shortcuts in conscious thinking.  Routine activities/habits are no longer taking up what little bandwidth my conscious brain has.  Consequently, I have more bandwidth left over to focus on things that require actual thought (e.g. how do I teach my son and daughter this or that principle of good living?, etc.).

My routine for a while had been: wake up, shower, get dressed, eat breakfast, hug and kiss my wife and kids before I left for work, get on the metro, same car, same seat, ride it to work, work, come home, change clothes, eat dinner, clean up around the house a little, play with/tuck the kids into bed, take care of a few other "must-do" chores, then ... veg.  Watch Top Gear, or something, for the rest of the night because I was tired.  Depending on my mood, I might binge-read a book, or something.  But, I would just stop. Stop thinking, stop doing, and just veg.

About the time I noticed that I really wasn't doing anything productive with my evening downtime (and this realization started preying on my mind), a friend of mine posted something on his Facebook page noting that he was going to take up a musical instrument as a way to do something productive with his evening time.  So, I felt I was not alone in this.

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Now, I'd like to pause, here, and indicate that I truly and wholeheartedly believe in the importance of a type of downtime - but not vegging.  Rather, the type of downtime that involves quieting my mind, meditating, praying, etc.  I think everyone needs this in order to achieve some sort of psychological/spiritual balance in life.  Each person is different, so each person probably needs more or less time to satisfy this need.  But it is a need.  I don't need a lot of this time, but I do need it.  

Sometimes, if I pay close enough attention to my...what's the right word...spirit, I can sense that need.  And I can fill that need, thankfully, in any number of ways.  More often than not, it is satisfied by personal prayer.  But not routine prayers like over a meal, or bedtime prayers, etc.  I find that I can really quiet my mind and commune with God most effectively outside those "routine" occasions.  Other times, it's not prayer, in the conventional sense, but still something akin to meditation: while on a bike ride, straddling a surfboard waiting for a wave, or on a drive while running errands (by myself).  My eyes are open, my subconscious mind is working, my body is active, by my conscious mind is somewhere else doing something else.  It's working something out, being tremendously productive.  To what end, I'm not sure.  But I'm invigorated afterward, anyway.  Recharged, somehow.  Perhaps that's why I say surfing helps me "refuel my stoke."

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So that was a tangent.  Back to getting to my point.  So, I had a routine that included vegging at night after the kids went down.  Something deep within me did not like my vegging.  But I didn't know what to do about it.

Then, the pool opened up across the street.  Nice lap swimming pool.  I started going down there after the kids went to sleep.  And it charged my stoke.  Doing laps had never really done it for me like that before, but for some reason it began to.  I'm helping a few folks improve their swim strokes while down there, too - which is super fun and fulfilling.  Starting laps also corresponded with taking on some volunteer work with my church in a more time/mind consuming way than I have in recent memory.  I joke with my wife that it feels a bit like another full-time job.

Now, my routine has changed from tucking the kids in and vegging, to tucking the kids in and swimming laps, helping some folks swim better, showering the chlorine off, and doing volunteer work late into the night.  I should be tired from this, but I'm stoked instead!

I find I have more physical energy.  I find that my mind is more active, more productive, more satisfied.  I'm happier.

The perils of downtime is that there are two types that are easily confused: one is like a drug that rots your soul (vegging) and the other is spiritual food that invigorates your whole being (quiet time).  When I wasn't paying close attention, I lost the distinction between the two.  Quite time is productive, healthy, and necessary.  However, it is easily confused with, and evolved into, vegging.  I find, contrary to natural instinct, that by being more actively engaged in worthwhile activities, I'm actually more energized.

Don't confuse the two.

Okinawa: Tour De Okinawa (or, Okinawa de Tour) Part 2: The Ride

Overall, the experience was brutal.  I intentionally did not type this until several days after the experience, because if you asked me about it when I got off the bike, you would not have gotten much out of me but a blank stare.  Indeed, after I dismounted my bike at my in-laws' home, I handed them my panniers, said nothing, and went straight to the shower, turned on the cold water, and sat underneath for 20 or so minutes, fully clothed in my cycling costume.

Day 1: From Nishihara to Ikei Jima

Red = Day 1. Green = Day 2. Blue = Day 3.

This was a walk in the park.  I knew the route well, as I had done most of it on one of my warm up sessions, and of the three legs of my trip, this was the shortest.  Most of it was flat, and there were no navigational challenges.

The clouds were out, the breeze was blowing, and I was cruising through mostly neighborhoods on the way to the Katsuren Peninsula.  Once I got there, I knew I'd have to climb some hills, but they were small, few, and known commodities to my legs.  I took my time, marveled at manhole designs along the way, and generally was feeling pretty good about myself as a cyclist.

I was wearing a short sleeved cycling jersey because of the clouds (less of a chance to get scorched as I had in days past), and had the pannier covers on the bags just in case some rain started falling.  Early on in the ride I realized that affixing my speakers to my bar bag mounting brackets was better that sticking it in my bar bag, and keeping the top flap wedged open to let the sound out.  These were the types of things I had on my mind, easy as my ride was.

The west end of the Katsuren Peninsula is where the climbing began, but it was short.  My plan was to go to a taco truck, of sorts, that I know about to get some Okinawa Soba for lunch.  It was a little off course, but the Soba is great, and so were the folks who work there.  However, by the time I got over the hump of Katsuren, I was way, way ahead of schedule.  The Soba stand would never be open that early, so I skipped it and detoured on a very small island that is apparently home to some sort of historical site.  I had never gone there before, I had time, and my legs were fresh, so what the heck?

It was short lived.  I crossed the bridge, rounded a corner, the pavement turned to dirt, and the dirt road forked 5 different ways obviously intended for farmers to navigate to their fields by.  The thing I love about my Trek 520 and its beefy tires is that I'm never really concerned about terrain or bumps.  This beast can take a hit, and is not afraid of a little mud and gravel.  But the roads didn't appear to be going anywhere, if even if they did, it seemed like more trouble than it was worth.  So, I turned around, and went back to my original course, taking me across the Kaichu Bridge Road.

About a third of the way across this bridge is a rest stop/viewpoint area complete with public washrooms.  It was well timed, because I needed to...wash up.  I did not want to dehydrate on this trip, so I was swilling the Acquarius (Japan's version of Gatorade, found in every vending machine, on every corner in every community and neighborhood in Okinawa - no kidding.  There's no excuse for not drinking enough in Okinawa.  If you have money, you'll never lack access to liquids.)

The other part of my cycling costume this day was cycling knickers that have the shoulder straps and go half way down my calves.  For those of you who are familiar with these types of knickers, its not easy for a guy to ... wash up.  It's a bit of a process, but in the public washroom that was vacant, I was able to take care of business in no time.

Back on my donkey, I got to Henza Jima just in time for the rain to start falling.  It came down a bit while I was tooling around in some of the neighborhoods, again, killing some time.  I ducked into an open garage, stowed my speakers in my bar bag, and stashed my shades in there as well.  The cloud passed, and I went on my merry way, heading to the Hamahiga Island Bridge (yet another time killing detour).

Just as I got on the road to the bridge, the heavens opened again, and this time the rain stuck around for a while.  But this time, as with the last, I found a convenient shelter just in time.  This one was a covered area in a park abutting the bridge.  I took this as an opportunity to pull out my iPhone and take a short video of my status, eat some bread, and drink some Acquarius, and chill out.  On this point, I need to make a point.  I brought an old fashioned journal and pen with me to capture my thoughts and ponderings along the way.  But I found that I captured most of that on my iPhone with either photos or videos.  Something to think about on your next tour.  I carried unnecessary weight.

Eventually, the rain stopped, and I got going across the bridge to Hamahiga Jima (Jima = Island), and quickly found a covered Soba stand to grab some lunch at.  When offered water, I presented one of my empty water bottles to the old lady who was serving me.  She was very kind, and came back with it filled up ... with something brownish.  It looked like bad well water, but after a small sip, I knew it was mugicha (wheat tea).  It tastes like dirt, but it really cools you down inside, quickly.  She asked about my other water bottles, and while I needed those filled too, I didn't offer them because I really wanted water so I could drop some Nuun tablets in.  But I didn't want her to think that I was ungrateful for the mugicha, so I passed, and thought to get water later.

I took about an hour, or so, exploring the island and diving for shelter every so often when ridiculous storms passed by. I spent some quality time straddling my bike in a public washroom, avoiding a couple storms.  After 3 scorching days the previous week doing training rides, the slight inconvenience of dark clouds and periodic rain delays was welcome.

Crossed back over the bridge and got back on schedule heading north on the east coast of Henza Jima, up to Miyagi Jima and just as I left Yonashirotobaru (the village on the southern part of the island), the heavens opened again and never stopped.  There was no place to hide either.  I spent a few minutes under a tree limb, but that was hopeless.  I was going to get soaked one way or another, so I sucked it up, and peddled out in the thundering down pour - much to the amusement of the motorists driving by.

It was refreshing.  I was hopeful that because of the intensity of the rain and the thoroughness of my drenching I might actually lose some stink I had collected along the way.  It was also too darned wet to pull out my iPhone and make sure I wasn't taking the wrong roads.  But, the Force was with me, and I made it to my destination, noting a few alternate camping locations just in case.  "Just in case" because when I called these folks earlier (a small little beach resort that allowed beach camping...and had showering facilities for about $10), they said they close for bad weather.

I got there just as they were battening down the hatches, and shutting things down.  No camping on the beach, they firmly told me.  I started thinking about a tunnel the road took through part of the previous island as a good place to stay the night.  Seriously, it was covered (dry), had a shelf, of sorts about waist high with more than enough room for me and my bike, and a safe location, believe it or not.  The only thing it didn't have was privacy (don't want a cop driving by and noticing my bivy sack and bike up there in the middle of the night, and kicking me out).

As I sat there, pondering my options, I was more than happy to sit there as long as they would let me take shelter under their awning.  They were hustling to and fro, taking down beach umbrellas and chairs, stashing them in storage lockers etc., so I walked around a little to look at stuff.  Noticed a few bungalows off to the right near the beach, and asked if I could rent one of those.  Long pause..., but they offered me a small discount on the regular price, then told me, they're shutting everything else down.  I coughed up the cash, and they left.  No kidding.  They locked down everything (including the showers), and left.

The storm had passed.

I dove inside the small room I rented, unloaded my bags to find a few things moist (see my gear review for further information on this), at which point I noticed everything fell silent.  I opened the curtains to find that the clouds had parted, the sun was out (but setting), and the wind had died.  Dry and warm, I pulled out my iPhone with movies on it, plugged it into my Goal Zero speakers, and watched Rear Window while I charged all of my other devices through my Anker USB charger.

Then I slept.

Day 2: From Ikei Jima to Kouri Jima

If you look at a map of Okinawa and can find Ikei Jima, then follow the road down south toward the Katsuren Peninsula, circle around and up the east coast of Okinawa past Ishikawa, Kin, and Ginoza, you can see that you more or less do a near complete lap or circle.  You almost end up where you started, but for some water between where you started and where you ended up.  But there I found myself, straddling my 520, chewing on a Strawberry Cliff Shot Block, staring at Ikei Jima with some level of disbelief.  So close, yet so far away.  There were a lot of hills on the route so far, and I hate hills.

But I had many miles in front of me, and these were unknown miles.  I'd never driven any of the roads ahead of me to Kouri Jima, but I did know I'd have to cross a mountain range at some point to get from the east coast to the northwest town of Nago, then north to the islands.

Rockin' the long sleeves.

The heat was out.  Around noon I looked at the heat index on my phone and it read 108f.  The long sleeves were on from the get go, and they were definitely protecting my arms from bursting into flames.  I slathered my face, neck, and a mid calves in SPF 50, and wondered to myself what happens to Nike Dry Fit shirts when there's just as much moisture on the outside as the inside?

No matter, I soldiered on - which seems to be the appropriate phrase, since I was peddling through heavy American military base areas.  The ride was long and monotonous.  There really were no neighborhood streets I could take up the east coast.  Just a fairly quiet country highway going through one town after another.  But this is where the tunes came in handy.  It really did help the miles go by, and keep my morale in fairly good spirits.  

I've watched Bear Grylls programs enough to know how highly he values morale as a survivor's best asset.  And I believe it.  Time and again throughout this trip, when I was getting bored, tired, or unmotivated, I found something to lift my spirits.  A cold can of Acquarius, some tunes, or just taking a short break and checking with my wife via text.  Those little things put a little juice in my legs, and kept me going.

The further north I got, the more and more I was looking forward to the sharp turn west taken by highway 329 that signified the crossing over the mountain range.  What I was genuinely worried about was that mountain range would be one of those false summit after false summit type rides.  When, even though you've passed the summit, you still do a lot of up and down hill climbing, gradually working your way back down to sea level.

So, you can imagine how thrilled I was when I hit what I correctly thought was the summit, then glided down, down, down into Nago (at sea level) with not a single uphill slope on my way down.  In addition to that thrill, I was greeted at the entrance to Nago by a Blue Seal Ice Cream Shop.  Oh the joy!

And this is when I realized how badly I stank.  Holy cow, I felt bad for the ice cream gal who had to serve me.  My stink was unbearable for me.  I can't imagine what she thought.  And this is the point that I began to be more strategic about where I ate.  I didn't want to stink up everyplace I went to, so I decided to limit myself to restaurants that had outdoor seating.  So, after I meandered north through Nago, and up to Yagaji Jima, I found a little snooty place just before the bridge to Kouri Jima (my destination) with outdoor seating, and the best darned chicken I've had in ages.  When I took the first bite, I was immediately reminded of a scene out of the movie Ratatouille when the restaurant critic took a bite of the ratatouille.  Wow, that was good.

Eventually, I made my way to the beach I had spotted on Google Earth on Kouri Jima that I thought I could camp at.  There were a few people snorkeling in the cove, but it was pretty quiet, and I found a corner behind some bushes to stash my bike, set up my bivy sack, and change into my swim suit.  Into the water I went, and I swam around until I got bored.  I did bring my swimming goggles with me, so I got to check out many cool fishies under water.

I got out, dried off, changed into somewhat clean clothes for the night, and realized that by jumping into the ocean, I didn't exchange one stink (sweat/B.O.) for another (dead fish and seaweed).  Rather, I combined the two.  Oy!

So, sleeping on the beach seems like a great idea.  Especially in a small and compact bivy sack.  Bad, bad idea.  1) Bivys don't breath very well.  If it is at all warm outside at night, you will sweat all night.  I sweat buckets that night.  2) The beach comes alive at night.  There were buggers of every kind, but the crabs were having a party on my legs (on top of the bivy) all night.  Do yourself a favor, and take a proper tent.  It will mean more weight, but it will also mean a decent night's sleep.

Day 3: From Kouri Jima to Nishihara

Because I got a lousy night's sleep, I had no reservations about getting up with the sun, and getting on the road.  I had a long way to go that day.  Three hours into the ride, I hit the first wall.  8:45 am, and the heat index was already 104 degrees.  I was tooled.  The rest of the day was going to be gaman, and I knew it.

So, I adopted a phrase (as I had numerous conversations with myself along the way) to never hurry while cycle touring.  Just don't be in a hurry.  Hauling 40+ pounds on a heavy bike is a bit like riding a road bike with your breaks on.  There's no point in hurrying, and since I had no juice left in me, I couldn't hurry anyway.  1 mile at a time.

The views were spectacular, and, for the most part, the sun was at my back.  And I took just about every opportunity I could to take a break and get out of the sun.

The west coast is fairly well populated by resort towns, so there's no shortage of quickie marts to get cold water at, so I was never low on fluids.  The challenge was getting some proper food fuel in me.  Power bars weren't doing it for me (I think I've given up on Cliff Bars.  They're better than most energy bars, but they still taste like flavored dirt.), and I needed to get some real food in me.  But I stank so badly, I had to find a place with outdoor seating - or, a place empty of other customers.

To my delight, I found a spacious lunch joint that was empty, and had the air conditioning blasting.  The menu had a calorie count next to each item, so I ordered the one with the most calories.  Ahh, beef.  And the sauce, there, in the little bowl was spectacular.  About the time I got done eating, a few other customers came in, so I went outside and layed down on one of the picnic benches for a few more minutes before continuing into Yomitan.

Yomitan is one endless hill.  Not an especially steep hill.  Just one that never seems to end.  Previously unfamiliar with Yomitan, I did not expect this obstacle.  It nearly drained my will to live, and it was at this point that my pocket wifi overheated and stopped working.  It was also around this time that I noticed I had a kink in my neck, as if I had slept on it wrong.  Surely, I did.  So, turning to my right to see traffic coming up behind me was nigh unto impossible.  But the proper meal had boosted my morale, so I kept peddling up that darned hill.

Somewhere along the way, I found a surf shop, and seeing that as an opportunity to take a break, I stepped inside to talk to the guy about rentals.  He asked if I surf much (yup), and if I've ever surfed Okinawa (nope).  Sorry, he told me.  We don't rent to folks who haven't surfed in Okinawa.  The reefs are dangerous, he told me.  But, dude, I replied in Japanese, I've surfed the North Shore in Hawaii.  I think that might qualify me.  Nothing doing.  I enjoyed a few more minutes of the air conditioning (he, as well as several others along the way, asked me about my ride, and all responded with some level of disbelief that I was doing it in this heat.) in the shop, then got back on my donkey and continued up the hill.

Downhill side of Yomitan hill.  Seems short.

For as much climbing that I did, the backside of the hill was remarkably short.  It's not that I got down the hill in no time (although, I did); rather, it wasn't nearly the hill I just climbed.  Not sure how that worked.  I found a gas station with a large shaded area, and thought to take a break there.  Noticed a plug outlet, so I asked the guys if I could sit in the corner (out of the way) and take a little break in the shade.  They were cool with that until I plugged in my wifi to charge and see if that's why it konked out.  It took them no time to come over to me and tell me that I could not use their outlet.  "But my GPS", I pleaded.  No dice.  I could use their shade, but not their outlet.  So, I used their urinal, then got back on my bike and continued past Kadena, through Chatan, Ginowan, and into Urasoe.

Urasoe was where I stopped on the stoop of an apartment building, layed flat on my back, and blindly emptied a bottle of water on my face.  That felt great.  It is also where I found a wifi signal that I used to ping my wife and let her know I was still alive (I had been radio silent for several hours).  She offered to come get me, but I had come too far to give up at this point.  The only thing that was between me and a long cold shower was Naha and Shuri - that dirty rotten Shuri hill.

And it just about killed me.  I won't say how many breaks I took going up that hill, but I peddled to the point that I thought I might have a problem, then stopped and rested.  Then peddled more, dumping more water on my head along the way.

If I had known how brutal the ride would have been, I probably would not have done it.  Then again, that's what I thought about summiting Mount Adams in Washington, but I'm glad I did it.  I won't do this ride again, but I'm so glad I did it.

A few lessons for the next tour:

1) long sleeves in the sun.  I don't need cycling jerseys.  Plain dry fit shirts are just fine.  Anything that would go in my jersey pockets will go in my bar bag.
2) take a proper tent.
3) go in the fall or spring, not in the summer or winter.  Cooler weather has to be better than the radical weight loss plan I completed on this tour.
4) work out proper meals more thoroughly.  I don't want to pack them, but bring some just in case I can't find a decent restaurant along my way.  Carrying a little extra weight is okay if it's fuel.

Okinawa: Tour De Okinawa (or, Okinawa de Tour) Part 1: Gear Review

So, this entry is mostly about cycle touring.  The good, bad, ugly, associated with the gear I used, and how I used it.  I've read blogs in the past about touring, and have found some of them helpful, so I feel to put down some thoughts for any other cycling tourist who might come to Okinawa.  Bear in mind, I'm a relative touring rookie.

Traveling with the Bike: I flew my Trek 520 with me as checked baggage on United Airlines.  Even though their website and customer service hotline told me it would cost me $200 each way to take my bike with me, the guy at the check in desk only charged me $100 (we'll see what they charge me for the return flight).  Maybe he was a cyclist and felt pity on me.  My flight took me through two layovers, and the last flight was on a partner airline.  The trick is to ensure that your bike is checked all the way to your final destination - that way, you don't somehow get dinged again by the partner airline when you take your bike off the plane for customs, then recheck it.

To pack my bike, I went to a nearby bicycle shop, and they gleefully gave me a cardboard box (one less for them to throw away).  I asked for the biggest one they could give me.  I found this video helpful in figuring out how to best pack it.  Now, for my bike, I had not only the 520, but also a few additional accessories.  Namely, Jandd Mountaineering front and rear pannier racks as well as some fenders (don't recall the brand, and don't want to go out into the rain and check).  So, in addition to taking off my front wheel, I also took off my front and rear racks, as well as my front fender.  From there, I followed the advice in the video, and took the handlebars off at the points she described.  Turned the forks 180 degrees, then inserted the loose handlebars (attached only by the brake and gear cables) like you can see she did at 3:18 of the video.  I tried other ways, but hers was the best way.  However which way you cram it in there, be sure there's a little slack in the cables for when things shift around in the box.  My trip computer cable did not survive the flight.

Once you've got your bike and parts (water bottle holders, toolbag, etc.) in there, as well as whatever else you may want to put in there, tape up the box pretty good with some duct tape.  Recognize that the TSA will do their number on it, but, in my case, they put their tape right over top of my tape to close it up again.  Be sure to weigh the box.  Probably depends on the airline, but you get dinged once for oversize.  You get dinged again for over weight (50 lbs, in most cases).

Additionally, you've gotta figure out how you're going to pump up your tires once you get to your destination airport.  You've got to let the air out of your tires so they don't pop on the plane, but can't take CO2 cartridges because those won't get past security.  I brought my old fashioned stand up pump with me, dismantled it and stuck it in the bike box.  My father-in-law met me at the airport, and took my bike box home with him after I reassembled it and rode it home from the airport.  You'll have to figure out how you're going to manage the box at the airport.  If you discard it, somehow, you'll need to rustle up a new bike box for the return flight.  Something to think about.

One other note.  I have never taken my pedals off of my bike in the 7 or so years I've owned it. I had to get someone at the bike shop to get them off for me.  But once I arrived at my destination and fished my bike out of the box to assemble it, I was able to put the pedals back on using a simple and small'ish crescent wrench.

Navigation: If you're like me, you want to stay off the beaten path as much as possible.  Highways are no way to travel on a bike when there are side roads through neighborhoods and villages.  I could go on and on about the cultural / experiential (if that's a real word) advantages of peddling down the streets where the locals walk about.  However, Okinawan neighborhood roads are bizarre, very confusing, and almost none go in a straight line.  But a few do, and you'll never find them unless the Force is your ally, or you have a mapping mechanism.  GPS beats hard copies in my opinion.

Rather than buying a GPS device, or renting one, I brought my iPhone 5s and rented a pocket Wifi device.  It was awesome, and worked just about everywhere on the island.  Where it didn't, a little common sense allowed me to figure out where I was (I also brought an old fashioned compass).  Also, in Japan there is an app that is commonly used called Line that allows you to text and make phone calls over the internet for free.  It's pretty cool, and works international as well.  So, if you go the iPhone route, download the Line App, connect with your significant other (who also must be on Line), turn off your cellular settings (so you don't get accidentally pillaged for international roaming), put your phone on airplane mode, but then enable wifi.  Connect to your pocket wifi, then you can text or call your friends and loved ones where ever they are (again, assuming your are connected with them through Line).  Your iPhone essentially works as a nearly complete iPhone, but without getting trashed by AT&T for international roaming (particularly brutal in Okinawa).  

But, for the purposes of our topic, here, the Apple Mapping function works brilliantly, and is only limited by your wifi signal.  Lastly, I also had a good old fashioned compass inserted into my bar bag's plastic sleeve (designed for paper maps, I suppose).  When in doubt, that compass always reassured me that at the least I was heading in the right direction.

Other Tech: I'm sure there are some purists out there on this matter who believe the wind and rain is your touring soundtrack, and I'm sure I will offend some of them.  Take this as my excuse - I'm a relative newbee to cycle touring.  I've been on a van supported tour of the San Juan Islands with some Boy Scouts - and that trip was awesome, but I had company, so no need for other forms of amusement.  On this trip around Okinawa, I was alone.  That's my excuse, and I'm sticking to it.

1) Goal Zero Guide 10 Plus Adventure Kit Solar Charger: This thing rocks, and absolutely necessary, in my opinion, to keep your phone charged, gps charged, wifi charged, bike lights charged, etc.  I also bought four "S-Biners" (10 lbs rated) to attach the solar panel to one of my panniers (more on panniers later).

Anker charging everything.

So, there are two options for charging devices with this thing.  One is to charge from the sun to the solar panels to your device (whatever that is).  This is the less effective method, I think, because when a thick cloud passed by, your you pass underneath a tree or beside a bus, or some form of shade, the panel shuts off, and the device will stop charging.  I found I had to unplug the charging cable, then plug it back in.  Then it would start charging again.  That's too much baby sitting for my taste.

Option two is to charge from the sun to the solar panel to the battery pack that comes with the goal zero product.  When I passed through shade, I never had to fiddle with cords. It would just resume charging until the battery pack was full.  Then, I would connect the battery pack direct to my device and charge the device (usually at night).

The only other gripe I have about this device package is that the battery pack does indicate when it is charging, and when it is really low on power, but it really gives you no idea of how much juice is left in it at any given point. I like a little battery icon that lights up in segments as it charges, or a little percentage indicator.  Something.  Otherwise, you really have no idea how much juice you gathered from the sun throughout the day.  It's just a guess.

2) Anker USB Charger: If you can find an electrical outlet ( US plugs are compatible with Japanese outlets), and you've got one of these chargers, you're golden.  With one outlet (in a McDonalds, an ice cream shop, or even a gas station), I was able to charge two iPhones, the Goal Zero battery pack (when there wasn't enough sun in the day to charge it), my pocket wifi device, and my speakers (will get to that in a moment). If you are desperate, park yourself in a bike shop (they'll understand - the gas station guys, in my case, did not understand, and asked me to unplug from their outlet) for a while and borrow one of their plugs, and buy a few power bars, or something, for their trouble.

Speakers attached firmly to the bar bag mounting brackets.

3) The Goal Zero Rock Out 2 Speakers: When I got my solar charger from REI, these came with them as part of a deal, of sorts.  I really didn't think much of them, but on the tour, I found them indispensable.  You can set them inside your bar bag (we'll talk panniers later) with the lid open, or you can use the elastic straps and hooks on the back of the speakers to attach them directly to your bike, somehow.  I did the latter, attaching them to my bar bag's mounting brackets.  I only listened to music about 20% of my ride, but that 20% was the time I needed a real morale boost, and the music really, really helped!

These speakers got a little glitchy toward the end of the trip.  For example, the play/pause and skip buttons wouldn't respond, but the volume buttons did, as well as the power button.  I figured this was because of some of the hard bumps I had on the road shook a few things loose, but once I got home and began fiddling with them again, the buttons worked just fine.  I think it was the extreme heat that was impacting the performance.  I think.

4) iPhones: We've already talked about using one iPhone for the purposes of GPS'ing, texting, and calling via Line.  I also used that iPhone (the 5s) for facebook, news, a few other apps, and for its camera.  I took a lot of videos and pictures along the way.  I wanted to have as much memory as possible for photos and videos, so I stripped everything else out, including my music.  That's where the second iPhone (a 4s) comes in handy.  Pulled every app off of it that I could, and crammed it full of music and movies.  Music good during the day rides, movies good for camping by yourself in the middle of nowhere at night.  You could, I suppose, get a large capacity iPhone to hold it all, but I liked having as much memory space flexibility as possible, and I also like fiddling with my 5s camera without having to unplug it from the speakers, etc.

Panniers: These can make or break your touring experience, believe.  I wouldn't have thought that until this tour.  Many swear by Ortlieb, but I believe in Arkel (with one minor caveat).  I have two T-42s, two T-28s, 1 small bar bag, 1 tailrider, and 1 seat bag for tools.  I like the Arkel bags because of the multiple pockets in each bag and for ease of getting into the main compartments.  Go to their website and their videos talk about this.  Also, (and this may be the case with other brands) they just worked out beautifully / in concert with my tech gear.

With the S-biners that I got, the solar panels attached perfectly and firmly to my tailrider loops.  The Speakers attached perfectly and firmly to my small bar bag's mounting brackets.  My iPhones fit perfectly in each of my small bar bag's side mesh pockets.  Easy access!  Everything fit just perfectly for my purposes and needs.  These little conveniences (or inconveniences) will make or break your touring experience.

The one caveat to the excellence of Arkel is waterproofing.  Now, my panniers are about 7 years old.  Not excessively used (sadly), but improvements to the design have most certainly been made since then.  The tailrider comes with a built-in cover that worked well. Everything inside was dry.  For the T-28s and 42s, you need to buy separately pannier covers.  Oddly, they are the same size.  They have elastic bands that you can cinch down with, but it seems really odd to me that Arkel doesn't (or didn't) make covers custom fit to the bags.  For the fully loaded T-42s, the covers barely (after a lot of tugging) fit around the edges.  The T-28s, on the other hand, had the covers flapping in the wind in all its glorious excess of space.  You can't get a cover for the bar bag.  It is very water resistant, but not waterproof.

My experience: thundering tropical downpour during one afternoon.  I might as well have been submerged. When I got to my destination, there were a few damp things inside my bags.  Nothing soaked, just damp.  Not sure how the water got in the bigger panniers (the bar bag was obvious - no cover), but somehow moisture got in there.  Nothing a little overnight hang drying can't fix (assuming you have a dry night / facilities to do that - I did).

So, with my models of Arkel panniers, with the covers, extremely water resistant, but not quite water proof.

Trek 520: My little donkey performed flawlessly.  I  made a few modifications from the stock model.  As noted earlier, I put on a stronger rear pannier rack, and added a front rack as well.  Also added fenders.  Switched out the saddle for a Brooks Saddle - which, incidentally, finally broke in on this trip (the one reason I'm grateful for the oppressive humidity here).  Also, when time came (about a year ago) to get new tires, I got some really burly Flack Jacket Tires with those kevlar inserts that go between the tires and the tubes to further protect against flat tires.

The gearing worked, the braking worked, pedals went in circles, no flats, and, well, everything worked fine.  What more can you ask of a bike?


All in all, with the exception of a few minor glitches with the speaker buttons, and the slight moisture that found its way into my panniers after the thundering downpour, everything, mechanically speaking, worked just fine.  The next blog entry will discuss how my touring experience got along.

Okinawa Days 7 & 8: Rest and Prepare

On the Seventh Day, I rested.  Went to church, saw a bunch of folks who remembered me, met a bunch of the senkyoshi's serving in Shuri, Naha Higashi, and Nago.  There were others; I just didn't ask where they were at.

On the Eighth Day, I took the knuckleheads to the zoo.  The Okinawa Zoo is pretty small; however, folks can get surprisingly close to the animals.  So, it was pretty cool, despite the absurd temperatures and humidity.

So, my plans for overnighting while on this bicycle tour was born out of a cycling blog I read about 8 years ago.  While communicating with some of the folks associated with it, I asked how people camp out.  The response was that you just go to a rural area, find a patch of dirt off the road, and set up.  Most folks in Japan, they insisted, don't care, so long as you're respectful, etc.  Right or wrong, that worked for me.  As I planned this trip, I got on google earth and found plenty of candidate locations near my target stopping points.

Day 1 (starting tomorrow - I'll be following the alternative plan detailed in an earlier blog) ends on Ikei Jima, and there's a small resort beach there. I was going to camp out on a beach (in a bivy sack) around the corner and down a little animal trail until I found out that the resort actually allows folks to camp on their site for really cheap, and they have showers!  I'll take that, as I'll be in desperate need of a shower.  Swimming around in the ocean (which I most certainly will do) just exchanges one stink for another.  Granted, I'd rather smell like dead fish and seaweed than sweat; but all things being equal, I'd rather not smell like either while I sleep.

I called the place to find out if I needed to book a camp site, or just show up, and they told me it's a day to day deal, depending on the weather.  If its bad, they're closed.  So, I'm going to have to have my wife call them tomorrow to kakunin a spot for me.  If they're closed for some reason, then it's back to my google earth options - of which there are some righteous ones.

So, I packed my bags today, went to the neighborhood Sanei to get some snack foods to tote along with me, and decided on a critical wardrobe issue.  I'm going with long sleeves.  My arms are already torched, and the sunscreen fades off to easily.  So, it will be warmer, but my arms won't burst into flames.  I think that's a fair trade.

Will see how that works out.

Okinawa Day 6: More Weight, More Miles

Katsuren (the peninsula) should not be mistaken for katsurei (the word for circumcision).  Nor should the word hitsujikai (shepherd) be mistaken for hitojichi (hostage).  Nevertheless, I made both mistakes many years ago on the Katsuren peninsula that juts out of the east coast of Okinawa about half way up to Nago from Naha.

Today, I thought to tool around.  Head up the east coast of Okinawa (a place I know very little about), and sorta meander about.  I threw on the full load of panniers (camping gear, etc.) and moseyed up to Katsuren making stops at just about every opportunity I could (to force myself to take it easy - I'm not very good at this).  I caught a few minutes of a little league game, stopped by a roadside ice cream stand manned by a very chatty 13 year old girl, and found a beach or two.  I had no intention of going around the peninsula, but before I knew it, there it was, so I peddled around it on the little narrow agricultural service roads that hugged the water - the beautiful water.

Southern coast of the Katsuren Peninsula.

Which reminds me of something - every Okinawan is a farmer to some degree or another.  Historically, it is very much a part of Okinawa, but as urbanization has taken over some parts of the island, you'll still see many small yards around homes surrounded by a variety of crops.  Many don't have lawns, they have rows of something growing.

But that's all beside the point.  The point is, once I decided to go around the peninsula, I was committed to it.  There was no backing out.  And if I was going to meet up with my wife at her friend's home down south later in the afternoon, I'd have to put some hustle into it.  And about the time I got around to the north side of Katsuren (around noon), hustle had left my legs.  I could still go at a modest pace, but there was no speed left in them.  Bummer, too, because the remainder of the ride was one hill after another.

There's a good story behind this rope, I'm sure.
I just couldn't find anyone who knew it.

However, I stopped at the sight of a shack of sorts with a plastic tarp roof coming off the side of it to provide a shelter for customer.  The sign said two words: Okinawa Soba. It's Okinawa's version of a taco truck situated across the street from a construction site.  I was not their target customer, but the server/greeter/cashier was both hysterical, and awesome.  She could not have been more engaging and helpful.  And this was not an example of typical superior customer service you come to expect in Japan.  She made me feel very much at home, introducing her 4 year old son to me, and me showing her pictures of my kids.  Good food and good times.

After eating, I peddled through Gushikawa, and back down through Okinawa-shi, Kitanakagusuku, Ginowan, to Urasoe.  Much more hilly than the coastline. It rained off and on during that return trek, and it was very much welcome.  While many went diving for awnings, I muddled on to meet my wife at her friend's place, arriving a stinking wet mess in an immaculately kept Japanese apartment.  After about an hour, I hopped back on the bike and mawaru'd back to Nishihara.

Trek 520 festooned with Arkel panniers.

Now, road cycling and touring cycling are not the same thing.  Many road cyclists I know have no idea what I'm talking about when I say I have a touring bike.  Mine is a Trek 520.  Built like a tank, but looks like a road bike with wider tires.  Compared to a road bike, super heavy.  A great donkey!  I've got an upgraded back pannier rack, and a front rack, with fenders. Then load it down with about 40 pounds of gear and tools, and bammo, you have a very heavy donkey to pedal around.  

Let's talk about panniers.  I choose Arkel for my journeys.  T-42s for the back, T-28s for the front, then a small bar bag on the handle bars, and a tailrider for the top of the back rack (slung across the top of the tailrider is my phone/pocket wifi charger solar panels - fits perfectly).  Slapping these suckers on your bike really changes the riding experience.  Added weight aside, then you do battle with the balance.  The bags also make for a great wind sail, so when the gusts come from anywhere other than front or back, you better have your wits about you, or you'll be blown into a curb at best, a car at worst.  Lastly, while having a bar bag is super convenient to stash things you want to grab while peddling, it's also a bit like having E.T. sitting on your handlebars.  

This is all to say that road cycling and cycle touring are two very different animals.

Toward the end of the ride, I was beginning to think that the purpose of doing a bicycle tour of Okinawa was to cycle all parts of the island.  And, in preparation for that, I've just about cycled the whole island south, and central, at least.  The only thing left is the north (the part I know the least).  So, right now, I'm considering my options, but may cut my planned ride by a couple days.

The original plan was/is as follows (routes all hug the coastline as much as possible):
Day 1 - Nishihara to Ikei Jima (north of the Kasturen peninsula)
Day 2 - Ikei Jima to Higashi-son (up near Nago, but on the east side)
Day 3 - Higashi-son to Nago (via going around the Motobu peninsula)
Day 4 - Nago to Itoman
Day 5 - Itoman to Nishihara

My potential new plan is:
Day 1 - Nishihara to Ikei Jima
Day 2 - Ikei Jima to Kouri Jima (the island just north of Nakijin)
Day 3 - Kouri Jima to Nishihara

We shall see.