As The Sparks Fly Upward

Ladies and Gents:

I hereby apologize for the “blog outage” over the extended weekend—partly a result of poor internet access (it went down last night just as I sat down to write) but mostly just due to lousy planning and a bit of procrastination on my part. Not a whole lot happened this weekend (good weather, no new casualties, clinic is running smoothly), but I did have a unique experience as the weekend began.

On Friday night, we had our “Family Home Evening” which was nice, as always. Our clinic now has two Chevy Trailblazers, including one which was originally white but is slowly turning “Al Asad Brown” (a lighter hue of burnt sienna—kind of a “toasted mango” if you will), and one which is huge and purple (I am not making that up), and which we have therefore named “Barney.” I like Barney the best because it (he?) has a sweet stereo. I was able to procure Barney for my FHE trip, and as I drove back home around 8:30 PM, I noticed that the white truck was parked outside the cans. I took this as a sign that none of my soldiers were in immediate need of transport, so I stopped for just a moment, grabbed the Pearl Jam discs that Tony Fadell sent me a few days back, and hopped back in the truck.

My destination was the “ridge.” I have explained before that Al Asad is located in a “bowl”-like indentation in the land of western Iraq, and beyond the oasis is the edge of the bowl, a ridge of land that forms the “rim” of the bowl. A few days previously, COL Gober had taken me and my bike up to an area of the ridge which I had not known was open to bikes. The ride was very scenic, and getting up on the rim there opened us up to a nice breeze; however, there is no pavement for much of the ride, and hence it is pretty bumpy. As we rode, I was too busy holding onto my handlebars and watching for potholes to enjoy the scenery. Having Barney available to me meant that I could go up there at night, off-road a bit, and check out the lay of the land at night time.

I made it up to the ridge and looked out over the base while listening to Tony’s music. Eventually, I turned off the tunes and got up out of the truck, walking into the 90-degree air (but with a nice balmy wind), and checked things out a bit. Because ambient light is restricted here at night time, the stars are more visible than most places back in the states. Leaning there against the hood of my purple friend for a moment, the place seemed incredibly quiet and peaceful. Had I been “beamed” from the past into that moment in my life, I would never have guessed that I was in a combat zone (though knowing what I know now, the dust/diesel smell is a dead giveaway). I ended up riding along much of the rim that night, enjoying the starry sky, and just observing the various strange little areas of industry which make up a United States military base.

All in all, a nice experience it was. I don’t want to start waxing poetic here (although I suppose that’s considerably better than waning poetic), but in closing I offer you this deep thought: Wouldn’t the world be a better, happier place if we all had a purple truck named Barney?