By lex, on February 9th, 2012
I quite like the train actually, especially for a trip like today’s, when I was only doing a touch and go in Point Mugu to pick up a jet and ferry her to Fallon. The time spent traveling was roughly the same, once you’ve deigned to commit yourself to the train’s schedule rather than your own. I made the trip for about the price of a tank of gas, and the frustration factor of rolling through the 405 during rush hour was much reduced, if not entirely abnegated.
By lex, on August 10th, 2010
I have been here before, but it was a depressing space of time ago: I was a lieutenant down at Key West, having completed my first sea tour and working as an adversary pilot. Forward quarter missiles and tactics was my subject matter of expertise, and Raytheon had something new in the works, the development of which it was though I could contribute to, at least from a user’s perspective. I was scarcely 30 years old, and the town has a very different feel today than it did back in 1993.
Or maybe it’s just me.
By lex, on June 9th, 2010
1) It’s quite beautiful, actually. Rolling meadows and live oak trees, placid rivers and broad bay vistas. Things that look green look like they’re supposed to look green and – unlike other places of my recent acquaintance – not like they’ve been heroically dosed with reclaimed water to make them attempt to look green.
2) The Maryland highway patrol are pretty much everywhere, stealthily cruising in their unmarked Fords with their Smokey-the-Bear hats on.
3) The weather has been quite nice as well.
3a) Apart from last night, when a sudden squall of drunkenness set in for a few hours there at the Tiki Hut.
By lex, on March 25th, 2007
We were to meet at 0700 at the church parking lot, so it was with cattle prod in hand that I went to summon the Biscuit from the land of nod at 0630 on a Saturday morning, only to be met with the familiar-as-my-own-heartbeat but nevertheless heart-rending wail of “Five more minutes!”
Very well, says I, five more minutes, but when I come back you’ll need to spring to action!
By lex, on October 11th, 2006
Google must have a thermos in it: When you type in the url over here, you automatically get the .bh suffix, with all kinds of cool, wriggly, right-to-left writing in the places where you’ve become accustomed to seeing “Web,” “Images,” “News,” “Groups” and “Porn” back home. Also, when you type in your search request, the letters fill from right to left, instead of the correct way.
How do it know? It’s got a thermos in it. That’s how.
NSA Bahrain is like an island inside the island. It feels just like being home, except that everyone is wearing some version of DCU’s. It’s “Lost” in cammies.
By lex, October 10, 2006
For clarification’s sake, this is not “The Trip.” This is merely “a trip.” Whether or not I end up going on The Trip is being decided by my betters at the Commander, Fleet Forces Command headquarters, my name having been offered up with several others as belonging to someone who could be Potentially Useful and almost certainly a living, breathing person, capable of your higher forms of mirror fogging.
The Trip, if I end up taking it (while it’s true that your odds are twice as good in Russian roulette, the stakes are far higher) would start in late December. This trip returns to my own, my native land, in the course of about 11 days.
In case that wasn’t clear.
Today – traveling through Death Valley
Manzanar Internment Camp site
Leaving Beatty NV for Death Valley…
US 395 is a beautiful road that follows the eastern slope of the Sierra Nevada mountains. Lex wrote about it; I am sure he traveled it frequently to and from Fallon. Manzanar is right by 395 just north of Lone Pine.
It does not reflect one of our country’s better ideals. My late father, who grew up in Los Angeles had a Japanese-American friend whose family was given a very short time to vacate their house and report. Many lost their homes to unscrupulous buyers.
My mother has a good friend who had to live here as a little girl.
Some of these Japanese-Americans, or Nisei, still answered their country’s call and joined the now legendary 442nd Infantry Regiment. It is one of the most decorated Army units in history, and of the 14,000 men who served, 9,486 Purple Hearts were awarded.
Today, all that remains is a guard tower and the main entrance where the guards resided. The outlines of the old wooden structures are shown.
Back in the 1940s, it looked a bit different
A few years ago, I met a veteran of the 442nd – had to shake his hand.
Tomorrow: the final installment. I wanted to show the Lexicans the genuine ghost town of Bodie, which today is a state park kept in “arrested decay”.
Part 1 is here
Part 2 is here
Part 3 is here
Part 4 is here
Part 5 is here
Part 6 is here
Part 7 is here
Part 8 is here