Men have often times, and rightly so, been accused of being insensitive. However, there is a subject upon which all men, everywhere, are tender, sensitive and sympathetic. That subject of course centers around that part of our anatomy that, well, makes a man a man.
We may not have the biggest or the prettiest, but what we have we've grown attached to and are rather fond of. We do not like it when either our own or someone else's are being abused.
When we witness another man being kicked in the gonads, all men collectively draw a quick breath and in unison instinctively reach for our own, grimace, groan, draw our knees together, and bend slightly at the waist. When we heard about the horrific incident where Lorena Bobbitt severed her husband's TOOL all men slept on their stomachs for a season.
When I look back over the history of mankind, I can't help but conclude that Eunuchs are among the most unfortunate. To be cruelly deprived of that which arguably makes a man what he is, is almost beyond my feeble ability to comprehend. I wonder as to the details of their miserable existence. Not personally knowing a Eunuch, I am left to my own imagination (which I'm sure by now my readers realize is a vivid one). Not only were they deprived of these precious gems of pleasure, but such an offense was cast upon them so that they might attend to the harem of royalty. How cruel is that? I suspect that these young ladies, knowing full well the limitations of these poor, pitiful men; went out of their way to expose themselves and flaunt the more attractive aspects of the female anatomy. In so doing, bringing theses unfortunate Souls to feverish heights of pent up frustrations.
When I awoke on the second day of my bike tour, shivering uncontrollably from the cold, I realized that there is at least one advantage to being a Eunuch. If you ain't got em, you don't have to worry about freezing them off:-)
Monday, November 23, 2009
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Colonial Triangle Ride - Day 1 - Night
From Washington's Headquarter, I jumped on the Newport News Park Bikeway and rode it around to the campground.
It was mid-afternoon and knowing it would get dark early I set about getting things together. The first order of business was to comb the campground and gather as much firewood as I could find. That being done, I set-up my tent and unrolled my ground pad and sleeping bag. Next I began to make preparations for dinner. One of the goals of this trip was to experiment with my different meals. I'll talk more about that in a separate post. Suffice it to say here, that one of my goals was to cook my dinners using a single pot. Tonight I would have spaghetti with red sauce and pepperoni.
By the time dinner was done and all the dishes clean, darkness was descending. I started a fire with my meager supply of firewood. Once the sun went down, it was amazing how cold it got and how quick it was in getting there. I boiled some water and made a cup of hot cocoa and stood as near the fire as I could. Slowly sipping the hot drink and surrounded by the warm glow of the fire, my world had truly become small and cozy. Just the way I like it.
Unfortunately, it wasn't long before the drink and firewood were deplenished and the cold was immediately there to remind me of the bigger and crueler world around me. It was dark. It was cold. The fire was dying. I had no place to sit. Though it was still early (7:00 PM), there was but one choice left to me, climb in my tent.
I put on sweat pants and a couple shirts and climbed into my sleeping bag. I took out my Ipod Touch on which I had downloaded the Kindle App. I starting reading "The Worst Journey in the World". This is a true story about a group of British explorers in the Antarctic. They were trying to be the first to reach the South Pole" As I lay there in the warmth of my sleeping bag, I thought about how apropos it was on such a cold night to be reading of such an adventure. The trials I would encounter would pale in comparison to what these brave men went through and the price they would ultimately pay.
I read for an hour or so and my eye lids grew heavy. I turned off the Ipod, slid further down in the sleeping bag. My world had become small and cozy again. I smiled and fell fast asleep.
It was mid-afternoon and knowing it would get dark early I set about getting things together. The first order of business was to comb the campground and gather as much firewood as I could find. That being done, I set-up my tent and unrolled my ground pad and sleeping bag. Next I began to make preparations for dinner. One of the goals of this trip was to experiment with my different meals. I'll talk more about that in a separate post. Suffice it to say here, that one of my goals was to cook my dinners using a single pot. Tonight I would have spaghetti with red sauce and pepperoni.
By the time dinner was done and all the dishes clean, darkness was descending. I started a fire with my meager supply of firewood. Once the sun went down, it was amazing how cold it got and how quick it was in getting there. I boiled some water and made a cup of hot cocoa and stood as near the fire as I could. Slowly sipping the hot drink and surrounded by the warm glow of the fire, my world had truly become small and cozy. Just the way I like it.Unfortunately, it wasn't long before the drink and firewood were deplenished and the cold was immediately there to remind me of the bigger and crueler world around me. It was dark. It was cold. The fire was dying. I had no place to sit. Though it was still early (7:00 PM), there was but one choice left to me, climb in my tent.
I put on sweat pants and a couple shirts and climbed into my sleeping bag. I took out my Ipod Touch on which I had downloaded the Kindle App. I starting reading "The Worst Journey in the World". This is a true story about a group of British explorers in the Antarctic. They were trying to be the first to reach the South Pole" As I lay there in the warmth of my sleeping bag, I thought about how apropos it was on such a cold night to be reading of such an adventure. The trials I would encounter would pale in comparison to what these brave men went through and the price they would ultimately pay.
I read for an hour or so and my eye lids grew heavy. I turned off the Ipod, slid further down in the sleeping bag. My world had become small and cozy again. I smiled and fell fast asleep.
Colonial Triangle Ride - Day 1 - Lunch with the First Pres
As I rode around the battlefield roads of Yorktown, I decided to stop and have lunch at "General Washington's Headquarters".
It was from this area that George Washington conducted the battle of Yorktown. He had two tents set-up. A larger tent that he used for meeting with his staff and a smaller tent which served as his personal lodging and office space.
I sat on the grass and partook of my crackers and cheese, beef jerky and dried fruit.
To think, I could literally be sitting and eating in the exact same spot where George Washington sat and ate. Wow!
It was from this area that George Washington conducted the battle of Yorktown. He had two tents set-up. A larger tent that he used for meeting with his staff and a smaller tent which served as his personal lodging and office space.
I sat on the grass and partook of my crackers and cheese, beef jerky and dried fruit.
To think, I could literally be sitting and eating in the exact same spot where George Washington sat and ate. Wow!
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Colonial Triangle Ride - Day 1 - Yorktown
Having survived the near gale force headwinds, I arrived in Yorktown mid-morning.
For the next few hours, I thoroughly enjoyed being a bike touring tourist!
I walked up the earthworks that were erected for siege warfare. The sun was out, the temperatures were mild and it was an absolutely gorgeous day. I sat down and looked out over the battlefield and pondered the precarious position that the British found themselves in. At their back was the York River and at their front was the French and American Forces just capturing redoubts that put them in point-blank-cannon- firing-range.
I then rode into the historic town of Yorktown. Some of the houses still bare signs of warfare.
I ventured over to the Grace Episcopal Church and walked around the adjacent graveyard. I found the grave of General Thomas Nelson, Jr. He died at the age of 50. Yet, in what we would consider a short life, I couldn't help but think about all he had accomplished. He was the governor of VA. He fought in the Revolutionary War. He signed the Declaration of Independence. Just as his grave announces, "He gave all for liberty." I wonder the mark my life will leave?
I then went for a ride on the battlefield roads.
Along the way, I stopped by Surrender Field. The place where the British forfeited their arms and surrendered to the combined French and American forces. As I stood there looking out over that field while a recording of the event echoed in my ears, it wasn't hard to be transformed back over 200 years.
For the next few hours, I thoroughly enjoyed being a bike touring tourist!I walked up the earthworks that were erected for siege warfare. The sun was out, the temperatures were mild and it was an absolutely gorgeous day. I sat down and looked out over the battlefield and pondered the precarious position that the British found themselves in. At their back was the York River and at their front was the French and American Forces just capturing redoubts that put them in point-blank-cannon- firing-range.
I then rode into the historic town of Yorktown. Some of the houses still bare signs of warfare.
I ventured over to the Grace Episcopal Church and walked around the adjacent graveyard. I found the grave of General Thomas Nelson, Jr. He died at the age of 50. Yet, in what we would consider a short life, I couldn't help but think about all he had accomplished. He was the governor of VA. He fought in the Revolutionary War. He signed the Declaration of Independence. Just as his grave announces, "He gave all for liberty." I wonder the mark my life will leave?
I then went for a ride on the battlefield roads.
Along the way, I stopped by Surrender Field. The place where the British forfeited their arms and surrendered to the combined French and American forces. As I stood there looking out over that field while a recording of the event echoed in my ears, it wasn't hard to be transformed back over 200 years.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Colonial Triangle Ride - Day 1 - Wind
On every tour a little wind must blow. Considering how this trip started, it would be more appropriate to say "...a lot of wind must blow." On Friday morning, I finished packing my bike and was ready to head out around 8:30 AM.
I faced a 20 mile ride to Yorktown, all of which was directly into a very stiff wind. When you couple the facts that my bike was completely loaded down, the panniers were sticking out a mile and I was sitting relatively straight up, the going was slow to say the least. If it wasn't for the traffic buzzing by, I probably would have adopted the sailing maneuver of tacking.
I was exerting an appreciable amount of energy but was barely able to maintain 10 mph. Tooling along at a snails pace gave me plenty of time to think and equate this ride to real life. Difficulties are a veritable part of life. We cannot escape them. They blow into our lives without warning. They inflict pain and retard our progress. What are we to do? If we tried to shelter ourselves from them, our world would become very small indeed. If we turned around every time we encountered them, we would never get to where we need to go. In real life, just like in bike riding, no matter how steep the road, no matter how hard the wind blows, no matter how much it hurts, no matter how tired you are, the only option is to put your head down and keep pedaling.
I faced a 20 mile ride to Yorktown, all of which was directly into a very stiff wind. When you couple the facts that my bike was completely loaded down, the panniers were sticking out a mile and I was sitting relatively straight up, the going was slow to say the least. If it wasn't for the traffic buzzing by, I probably would have adopted the sailing maneuver of tacking.I was exerting an appreciable amount of energy but was barely able to maintain 10 mph. Tooling along at a snails pace gave me plenty of time to think and equate this ride to real life. Difficulties are a veritable part of life. We cannot escape them. They blow into our lives without warning. They inflict pain and retard our progress. What are we to do? If we tried to shelter ourselves from them, our world would become very small indeed. If we turned around every time we encountered them, we would never get to where we need to go. In real life, just like in bike riding, no matter how steep the road, no matter how hard the wind blows, no matter how much it hurts, no matter how tired you are, the only option is to put your head down and keep pedaling.
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