So what’s today’s blog all about? I promised I would tell you a bit about the different kinds of motorcycles and motor scooters in Bangkok, and this is that story.
Scooters, Cubs, motorcycles…they are everywhere. Every traffic light is the start of a drag race to the next light by all the bikes.
Bikes dominate Bangkok’s urban landscape. I know that sounds like a catchy thing to say (snappy writing, perhaps), but it wasn’t intended to be literary lavishness. It’s just the way it is. Two-wheeled transportation is everywhere. In traffic, the bikes filter by on the left and on the right. In front of any business or in any parking area, there are hundreds of bikes. And at every stop light, dozens of bikes filter to the head of the line. The excitement builds as the countdown stop light nears green (they tell you how many seconds until the light changes over here), and in the last few seconds before the red goes away, a zillion motorcycle engines start revving. The word “glorious” seems appropriate.
Filter to the front of the line, start revving as the lights nears turning green. The pink autos are taxis (taxis are either pink or metallic green in Bangkok).
There are few big bikes in Bangkok. Oh, you’ll see one now and then, but they are a rarity. Over here anything over 200cc or 250cc is just wasted displacement. I’ve been to Bangkok several times and of the tens of thousands of motorcycles I’ve seen (and those are not exaggerated figures), there were exactly two big bikes. One was a Harley Sportster and the other was a Triumph Bonneville. There’s just no need for more displacement.
A lone Triumph Bonneville, tucked away in a Bangkok parking spot.A Ninja. Honda, Kawasaki, and Yamaha are popular over here. Surprisingly, I didn’t see too many Suzuki motorcycles. We did see more than a few Suzuki automobiles, though.
One moto thing that’s noticeable right away are the orange vests. When you see a rider with an orange vest, that means they are using their bike as a taxi. They give short rides (the folks here tell me typically under 2 kilometers). The riders have to wear the government-sanctioned orange vests and a helmet; passengers don’t wear any safety gear. A lot of the female passengers wear skirts and ride side-saddle (I’ll show more of that in the next blog). I’d say roughly 10 percent of all the bikes are being used as taxis. Most of the drivers are men, but you do see women riders occasionally.
Thai taxi men, and one woman.A mototaxi, a rider, and a food delivery bike.
Surprisingly, it’s rare to see more than two people on a bike. You do see it, but not like I have seen in China or Colombia (I once grabbed a photo in Colombia of a motorcycle carrying six people).
A Thai Freightliner.
Bikes are working vehicles over here. I mentioned the taxi thing; it’s also very common to see bikes weighed down with all kinds of freight.
There are scooters (you know, the things that are styled like Vespas), step-through motorcycles (like the old Honda Cub), small sport bikes (small displacement CBR or Ninja type bikes), plain old motorcycles, and (surprisingly) a lot of Grom-styled bikes.
Another rare sighting…a Vespa in Bangkok. Most of the scooters are of Chinese origin. But this Vespa? If you’re thinking it’s from Italy, you’d probably be wrong. Zongshen (in China) produces these for Vespa.Here’s a guy on one that looks a little like a Ducati. I’m pretty sure these are made in China, as Gresh and I also saw them for sale on our ride across China. If you were wondering, the clutches don’t rattle on these.
When I was last in Bangkok 6 or 7 years ago, I saw a few Kawasaki motorcycles that looked a little like the Honda Grom. Today, the Grom style is very popular in Thailand, with motorcycles of this style from several manufacturers.
I’ll close this blog with a three photos of a bike I spotted yesterday that I thought was pretty cool. It’s a CG-clone-based motorcycle, and its owner has a sense of humor.
A little Beemer. Well, a Beemer wannabe. Unlike modern Beemers, this one has a rational seat height.I wonder if the Cafe Racer decals are factory original, or if the owner added them.It looks good. I like it.
We are enjoying our last full day in Bangkok. We’re up early tomorrow for the flight back to California. It’s been grand. We’re staying in the top floor of a 5-star hotel in downtown Bangkok (the Pullman Grand Sukhumvit) and we’re living in the lap of luxury. The room is awesome, there’s a pool and a gym, there’s a free tuk tuk ride wherever we want to go, there’s free booze and breakfasts and dinners, and it’s costing less than what a Holiday Inn might cost in the United States. We’re going for a dinner cruise up the Chao Phraya River tonight with our good friends Kevin and Nan, and we’re going to hit another one of the temples later today. We took a grand long boat ride on the Chao Phraya yesterday and it was awesome.
There’s one more in this series of Bangkok blogs, and it will feature a set of photos showing Thai women passengers on moto taxis. Stay tuned. I think you’ll like it.
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Can we talk about an important matter that has been on my mind?
Do women who ride motorcycles handle breakups differently compared to women who don’t rider?
It’s a thought that tickles the imagination of everyone at some point, right? Well, maybe not everyone, but hey, this is my little tale, so here we go. Picture this: it was summer, I had just experienced a breakup that left my heart in pieces, and an opportunity for a soul-searching solo ride presented itself. In that moment of contemplation, I assessed my true desires in life, and you know what came to mind? Dirt and sand riding. Yeah, I’m talking about that exhilarating feeling of kicking up dust and cruising through sandy terrain. Don’t get me wrong, my beloved Triumph Tiger 900 (affectionately named Tippi) will always hold the top spot in my heart. But hey, a girl needs a little something on the side, a petite and playful companion for short rides. You catch my drift, right? I know some of you guys can relate! Ha!
Fast forward through the summer months and as August approached a dear friend (who also happens to be an extraordinary adventure rider) reached out to me. By then, I had been on my solo riding journey for over two months, feeling both physically drained and financially pinched. And then, like a shining beacon, my friend, let’s call her Destini, introduced me to the elusive TW 200—the side cheating bike of my dreams. This unicorn of a motorcycle was up for sale in Southern California, and armed with a few snapshots and a contact number, I was ready to make my move.
Now, you won’t believe the audacity I had, claiming to be financially constrained but wasting no time in contacting Eric, the seller. He was enjoying a leisurely dinner with friends on a perfect summer evening when I burst into his life with overwhelming excitement. I must have been yapping like a caffeinated squirrel, leaving him wondering if I was either on some mind-altering substance or going through a manic phase. But can you blame me? I had set my heart on that bike! It wasn’t just a want—it was a dire post-breakup remedy! A 2015 Yamaha TW 200 with a mere 800 miles on it listed for only $4000. Surprise, surprise, Eric turned out to be a gem of a person and agreed to a small Venmo deposit to secure the deal.
Now, here’s where the plot thickens. I was miles away in the Olympic peninsula of Washington while the prized possession awaited me in sunny southern California. One could say I needed a trusty sidekick, and luckily, a kind friend volunteered to inspect and purchase the bike on my behalf.
Before I knew it I was the proud owner of a TW 200. Come September, picture me cruising through the neighborhood on a splendid Sunday afternoon, giggling like a mischievous child. That little bike felt so lightweight and petite. Its chunky rear tire was the only contrasting feature. And would you believe it? My shattered heart seemed to magically mend, thanks to a mere $4000 and the promise of thrilling rides in Baja and my enchanting town of Sedona, conquering as much dirt as possible! Love was in the air once again, and my mind was filled with visions of the adventures that lay ahead.
And thus, my riding comrades, this is the tale of how I acquired my very own break-up bike!
The Yamaha TW 200 is a unique dual-sport motorcycle known for its distinctive features and versatility. Here are some key details about the Yamaha TW 200:
Engine. It’s powered by a 196cc, single-cylinder, air-cooled four-stroke engine, designed for reliability and easy maintenance.
Fat Tires. One of its most recognizable features is its oversized tires—both front and rear are unusually wide for a motorcycle of its size. The fat tires, with dimensions of 130/80-18 rear and 130/80-18 front, contribute to its off-road capabilities and stability on various terrains.
Low Seat Height. The TW 200 boasts a low seat height, making it accessible and comfortable for riders of varying heights and skill levels. This characteristic also aids in maneuverability, especially off-road.
Suspension. It’s equipped with long-travel telescopic front forks and a rear mono-shock suspension, providing decent travel for off-road adventures while maintaining comfort on the road.
Utility and Design. Its design combines elements of a traditional dirt bike and a street motorcycle. It features a high-mounted exhaust, a large, round headlight, a rear rack for cargo, and a simple, utilitarian appearance.
Availability. While production and availability may vary by region and year, the TW 200 has gained popularity for its unique design and capabilities, which contributes to its demand in the used market.
I returned to my mat/astral spaceship with a full dose of ayahuasca in a cup that I was about to drink. This would be my 12th time consuming this magical potion from the jungles of South America. As I sat staring into the cup that would soon bring me into another world I was as scared as I had ever been in my life, especially having just had one of the most frightening journeys of my life the night prior. Looking into the cup of dark molasses-colored and textured fluid I set my intentions and fearfully drank what was a little over an ounce, but it would prove to be more than enough to benefit me.
Similar to the prior evening I sat back to let the medicine absorb into my body. There was nothing for me to do but let the medicine perform its work now. Once the singing of the icaros began I could feel another entity coming towards me, but it wasn’t the panther from the previous night. It was a War of the Worlds type of jellyfish with tentacles. I was relaxed since in previous ceremonies this was the hallucination I was used to. One of the tentacles came down and at the end of it was the pattern of the inside of the ayahuasca vine but I could tell it was an eye scoping me out. Yet again I was eye to eye with a new entity introducing itself to me. What was constantly on my mind was if this entity would disappear and return me to the Hell I was in the previous night.
Pretty much as soon as the hopes of not returning to that Hell faded, yup, you guessed it I returned to the exact same Hell as the previous night. Damn it! It was for a shorter period of time though (or so I thought as time is relative in the spirit world). There were no voices or guidance this time, though, so I wasn’t quite sure of the lesson I was being taught (but I did vomit ferociously for quite some time). Once that began to wind down my name was called and I moved to the facilitator that would sing to me face to face. I was instantly uplifted and felt just pure happiness. A happiness and peace with myself that I hadn’t felt for years. I was comfortable within my own skin and felt as though I had been reborn and given a new chance to experience life through this new lens that I hadn’t had previously.
That evening I went back into the room to have tea with others and was no longer huddled in the corner. I participated in the conversations while also checking in on others to ensure none of them felt as I did the previous night. It was one of the best experiences I had to date with this medicine, but I still had one more night to go through, so I was cautious not to become overly comfortable. It was time to rest, eat, hydrate and get my head together for tomorrow night’s final ceremony.
My old man drove an Imperial for a couple of years. In the early days, Dad always bought his cars used, and our dark green 4-door ’56 Imperial was no exception. The car was monstrously huge and it rode as if it were floating on air. I remember one time we were all in the car when it lost its steering. Something mechanical came undone and we ended up in a cornfield, of which there were many in rural central New Jersey in the late 1950s. I can’t remember if that’s why Dad sold the Imperial or if it was something else, but I remember the car. And that’s why when I came across this YouTube video I knew I had to share it with you.
The sales approach back in those days was a little different than what we might see in an advertisement today. These are two more Imperial videos that I think are cool.
This next one, which obviously had as its target market rich old white guys who never went anywhere without a police motorcycle escort, is especially cool (and it fits with our theme of occasionally providing interesting motorcycle content).
So there you have it: 1950s Chrysler Imperial advertising and more. And hey, if you were intrigued by those police Harleys in the video above, pick up your own copy of The Complete Book of Police and Military Motorcycles.
Here’s a chase scene that’s billed as the wildest motorcycle chase ever. I don’t know if that’s entirely accurate, but it is an entertaining few minutes.
The presumption here is that the chase is real, and some dude and his pillion dudette were in a heap of trouble down there in Brazil when they were finally caught. You’ve got to be pretty nuts to attempt outrunning a police officer on anything, but I guess more than a few crazies do so even here in California. About 25 years ago I was in the carpool lane on my TL1000S Suzuki honking along at about 95 mph when I suddenly sensed something on my 5:00 position. I looked in the mirror and there was a CHP cruiser not 5 feet off my rear wheel, just a little bit to my right rear. I hit my turn signal, slowed slowly (I didn’t want that CHP car giving me a proctological examination), wove my way through traffic, and got off at the next exit. I was expecting the indignant, outraged lecture, but to my surprise the CHP officer was an attractive young female who politely asked for my license, insurance, and registration. “I’m surprised you pulled over,” she added.
“Really?” I asked. “You actually get people try to outrun you?”
“All the time,” she said. “If they get away, we can’t go by their tags and arrest them. They’ll just say it wasn’t them, and because of the helmet, it stands up in court.” Hmmmh. You could have knocked me over with a feather. “That’s if they get away,” she added. “Most of the time they get wadded up somewhere down the road. We just follow the ambulance to the hospital and issue the summons there.”
On this topic of motorcycle chases: They are a staple of more than a few motion pictures. I think the classic chase scene (and the best one) is Steve McQueen in The Great Escape (Bud Ekins did the jump in this scene, for which he was paid an unheard of $1000 when the movie was made). There are many great movie chase scenes. Let’s hear from you: What’s your favorite motorcycle chase scene?
You probably know about the meeting between Joe Biden and Xi Jinping last week. What you might not know about is Woodside, California, and the Filoli estate where they met. As always, we want our ExNotes readers to be knowledgeable and up to date, and that’s the focus of this article. I’ve actually been to and photographed the Filoli estate and mansion, and I’ve written a bit about Woodside before.
The Filoli mansion was built in 1917 for William Bourn II, who by any measure was a wealthy guy. He owned one of California’s richest gold mines and was president of the Spring Valley Water Company that served San Francisco and its surrounding areas. If you are wondering about the name, it’s formed by the first two letters of each word from of Bourn’s motto: Fight for a just cause; Love your fellow man; Live a good life.
The Filoli mansion and its gardens occupy 16 acres; the entire estate covers 654 acres and extends to the Crystal Springs Reservoir (which still provides water to San Francisco). If you drive south on the 280 freeway from San Francisco (it follows the San Cruz Mountain range), you can see the reservoir on the right.
Big mansions are expensive to maintain and hard to keep up. That’s why a lot of the big ones have been donated by the families that owned them to the state or other organizations and opened to the public for tours. It’s what the Hearst family did with Hearst Castle further south, and it is what happened to the Filoli mansion. The Filoli mansion and surrounding grounds are now owned by the National Trust for Historic Preservation. For a modest fee you can visit and walk through the same rooms and gardens as Xi and Biden. It’s cool. I did it in 2019 and here are a few Filoli photos from that visit.
A bit more about the town of Woodside: Woodside is one of the wealthiest places in America. A partial list of the big names who live or have lived in Woodside include Charles Schwab (yes, that Charles Schwab), Steve Jobs, Michelle Pfeiffer (the classiest actress ever), Joan Baez, Nolan Bushnell (the founder of Atari and the Chuck E. Cheese restaurant chain), Scott Cook (the founder of Intuit), Carl Djerassi (a novelist and the guy who developed the birth control pill), Larry Ellison (the CEO of Oracle Corporation), James Folger (as in need a cup of coffee?), Kazuo Hirai (the CEO of Sony), Mike Markkula (the second Apple CEO), Gordon E. Moore (Intel’s co-founder and originator of Moore’s Law), Prince Vasili Alexandrovich (the nephew of Tsar Nicholas II of Russia), Shirley Temple, John Thompson (Symantec’s CEO), and Nick Woodman (founder and CEO of GoPro). Woodside is within commuting distance of Silicon Valley, so it’s understandable, I guess, why so many high-rolling Silicon Valley types call it home.
This is an interesting and beautiful area. The Pacific Ocean is just on the other side of the San Cruz range, and a circumnavigation of these mountains makes for a hell of a motorcycle ride (see our earlier blog and the article I wrote for Motorcycle Classics magazine).
I don’t know if Xi and Biden accomplished much during their meeting. If I had organized their visit, I would have left all the entourage folks behind and given Uncles Joe and Xi a map and a couple of RX3 motorcycles. They would have had a better time and probably emerged with a better agreement. A good motorcycle ride will do that for you.
You know, we don’t do politics on ExNotes, but I have to get in a comment here. There ought to be a win-win solution to our current disagreements with China. I think if I could be king of the U.S. for about six months (not President, but King) and good buddy Sergeant Zuo from our ride across China could be King of China for the same time period, we could go for another ride and figure it all out. I’d bring Gresh along to keep it interesting and I’d get another book out of it, too. That’s my idea, anyway.
If you’d like to read more about Joe Gresh’s and my ride across China with Sergeant Zuo, you should pick up a copy of Riding China.
And if you’d like to read about Gresh and me riding across America with the Chinese, you need a copy of 5000 Miles at 8000 RPM.
I was about to consume ayahuasca for the 11th time in my life.
The twelve of us gathered in the yurt around 19:30. Having previously participated in ten ceremonies, the process felt natural and comfortable. That’s not to say that I wasn’t scared, but I was familiar with this beautiful plant. Most importantly I trusted the plant and the people overseeing my consumption of it.
In the past, the first night for me was not that painful and was more of a “getting to know you” feeling. Normally it was a very pleasant experience. I would see a lot of colors and just the entire universe would unfold in front of me. The second night is when the effects of this medicine would become serious and step up intensely.
This would not be the case tonight. Within 30 minutes of setting my intentions, consuming the brew, and the singing of beautiful icaros (native Peruvian songs) by the facilitators, I began to feel the effects. About this time is when the hallucinations began along with an uneasiness in my stomach. One of the side effects of drinking this medicine is that purging, or vomiting, is a frequent occurrence.
What I am about to describe is my ayahuasca journey. Full disclosure: A lot of it won’t make any sense, but it is the outcome that I want to highlight. The hallucinations first came as a beautiful black panther crawling up my mat to sit in front of me. It was so close and real that I could feel the vibrations of it purring as we sat face to face for some time just staring at each other. I thought this was a new form of an introduction. The muscular black panther disappeared after a short time and at the instance of his departure I was instantly thrust into a hellish scene with a red sky and fire everywhere. The only structures visible were totem poles made of fire, and they were screaming at me. I then began to violently throw up into a bucket (which I had placed exactly where I could find it in the dark). This went on for…well, until I was finished reliving every mistake I had ever made in my life. Every time I’d been rude to someone. Every time I had put someone down. Every time I had doubted myself. Every time. Once that was over, I felt like one does when awakening from a bad dream, still having that feeling the dream was real. It was that feeling, but it was multiplied a thousand times.
After the ceremony the host came by and checked in with us all. I was still pretty shaken. I was putting the evening back together to try to ground myself.
Upon formal closure of the ceremony a group of us went inside the house to have tea and discuss our individual experiences. I sat quietly in the corner of the room listening to everyone’s stories. They were all beautiful and gentle. I was still reliving the hell I was shown. It would be a night of very little sleep for me.
The next day I was DONE. I was ready to leave and not stay for another ceremony. The day began with me crying inside my tent and really not much else. I talked with my friend who ran the retreat sharing my feelings about leaving. For me, even thinking I would quit is unheard of. I am a paratrooper and we do not quit! But that first night was so painful it was hard to imagine another two evenings like it. My friend shook it off as part of the growing experience. I knew he wasn’t wrong.
The next night not only did I attend ceremony, but I requested a 20% higher dose. As I drank it I said aloud “Run towards the sounds of guns” and tapped one of the practitioners and said “Hey, please look out for me I may need some help tonight.” He promptly replied, “I’ve got you!”
I returned to my mat to set my intentions for that evening and waited to see what this next ceremony would bring.
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We were flying low and slow, like vatos do, heading north from Mountainair, New Mexico. The Mud Chuckers, one on a Buell 1000, one on a Kawasaki Vulcan 750 and me on the 1974 Yamaha RD350. It had been a few years since the last Motorado event and we decided to ride up as a group. Covid and inertia combined to equal a 4-year gap since the last Motorado event. Last year in 2022 we held an unofficial Motorado rump-meet at the traditional location. About 15 old bikes showed up and no one drank beer because the pub was closed. There was a swap meet going on and we drew some interested lookie-loos. It was better than nothing for sure and I was prepared to go do it again this year but the real Motorado got on the pipe.
Saturday’s weather was warm and sunny and none of us felt in the mood to go very fast so we burbled along at 50 miles per hour enjoying the beautiful, two-lane New Mexico scenery. Traffic was typically light. Three cars passed us. At this stately pace the old two-cycle, twin cylinder Yamaha RD350 progressed 58 miles for each gallon of gas. That number would be a lot more impressive except the ancient, 1950’s era Sportster motor powering Mike’s Buell did 68 miles per gallon. Long stoke, four stroke, no poke, no joke.
A Vulcan 750, an RD350, and a Buell.
The unofficial, official motel for Motorado 2023 was the Sunset Motel in Moriarity, New Mexico. The Sunset is laid back and low slung just like us. You don’t get breakfast at the Sunset but you do get a monster homemade muffin, which is almost the same thing. After getting settled in our rooms we rode off to get dinner at Shorty’s BBQ joint.
Shorty’s has the best BBQ brisket in Moriarity but the place is always in kind of an identity crisis. The first time I ate at Shorty’s the walls were covered with Jesus stuff, bible quotes and crosses. A few years later I stopped by and the entire restaurant was a shrine to Donald Trump. The Mud Chucker’s are about as far from liberal as you can get, but are also not too fond of The Donald so I feared the worse going in, but the décor had changed again. Now the place was Jesus-lite® without a single reference to our 45th President and a marked reduction in Christian symbolism. You get to experience Shorty’s political and spiritual evolution through the walls of his establishment and eat a great brisket sandwich to boot.
Late September in New Mexico is prime motorcycle riding season. The mornings are cool, gradually warming to hot afternoons. Elevation changes and drifting clouds create a seesawing temperature landscape. The Mud Chuckers were moving slowly on Sunday morning and I’m of that certain age where I no longer care whether I arrive anywhere at any particular time, so we managed to pull out of the motel around 11 a.m. From the Sunset, it’s a straightish shot up Highway 41, through Galisteo to Highway 285 and then north a few miles to the Motorado.
There was a good crowd at the 2023 Motorado. It looked to me as though they had not lost any attendance despite the 4-year layoff. All brands of old bikes were represented and several shops had booths selling whatever it is they sold. I hit the Motorado T-shirt booth first but they weren’t set up to take credit cards and I had a limited amount of cash on hand. Once again it was no T-shirt for me. This whole T-shirt thing is out of control.
One of my dream bikes, a Kawasaki Avenger 350. These disc valve two strokes were pretty fast back then and still fast today.High pipes on a Norton P-11. This is pre-isolastic mounting so you get to feel every vibration the parallel twin puts out.Every Motorado I see a bike I never knew existed. Here’s a Taurus diesel that looks a lot like Royal Enfield running gear strapped to a diesel engine.This over restored but still beautiful Ariel Square Four was a stunner. I hung around to hear it run but got tired of waiting.The oldest bike at the event, a 1906 Fairy opposed twin. Not sure of the horsepower but they made 2-1/2 to 8 horsepower models. I bet the 8 was a real screamer.This bike is the great grand-daddy to the RD350. Two generations behind the RD it’s still a sweet looking bike.
After a few passes we had seen pretty much all the bikes in the show and the swap meet. The Chuckers and I took the long way home on the Turquoise Trail through Madrid, New Mexico and got back to the Sunset motel at Sunset. Moriarity rolls up the sidewalks on Sunday night and all the regular places were closed so we retreated to a 24-7 truck stop that had the worse spaghetti ever made, and then we called it a night. It’s tough eating night-spaghetti.
The morning ride from Moriarity was brisk bordering on cold and our rag-tag group made the 200-mile rode low and at our now standard slowpoke speed. I’m very happy the Motorado is back in business and barring another world-stopping pandemic I hope they stage many more years of vintage shows. As long they hold the meet I’ll be riding an old bike up to Santa Fe to check out the hardware. I’ll see you there next year. Swing by the Sunset Motel and we can ride the last 50 miles together.
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Today was another exciting day, and we visited another one of Bangkok’s best kept secrets. Sue and I took a tuk tuk ride to the train station and we made our way on Bangkok’s elevated inner city railway system to our destination du jour: The Jim Thompson House and Museum, located inside the city along a remote canal. Tucked away, you might say. And that’s entirely appropriate. Read on and you’ll understand why.
Thai transport, tuk tuk style.The view from the passenger compartment.Getting around on Bangkok’s elevated railway was surprisingly easy. And that’s Mo Chit.Waiting for our ride.Inside the train.
The destination of our tuk tuk and train travel was the aforementioned Jim Thompson House and Museum. You might wonder: Who was Jim Thompson?
Jim Thompson, before he disappeared in the jungle forever.
Okay, here goes, and when I’m done giving you the Reader’s Digest version of this amazing tale, you tell me if isn’t something that might be the story line of the next Indiana Jones or James Bond adventure.
Jim Thompson was a young east coast guy born into wealth who went to Princeton University and became an architect. He joined the Army just prior to World War II, he jumped out of airplanes while he was in the Army (I like this guy already), and he ended up in the Office of Strategic Services during the war (the OSS was the forerunner of the CIA). Toward the end of the war, Thompson was stationed in Thailand where he found interesting and previously unknown (unknown outside of Thailand, that is) artisans doing amazing things with silk. To make a long story a little less long, Thompson is the man who made Thai silk famous. Seriously. He designed silk clothing for royalty, elites all over the world, and folks in Hollywood (including the costumes used in the movie, The King and I).
Along the way and with his background as an architect, Mr. Thompson starting collecting classic Thai teak homes and Asian artifacts (like I said above, the guy had money). He built a compound comprised of six teak homes he moved from ancient Thai cities to Bangkok, and there he built a compound that he made his home. The big photo at the top of this blog is part of it. It’s in Bangkok now, but when Thompson built it, it was well outside the city. Bangkok expanded around it.
Then, to make this story even more interesting, in 1967 Jim Thompson disappeared in the Malaysian jungle without a trace. I know, it sounds like a story line from a movie or one of those adventure novels you buy in an airport bookstore, but folks, no one can make up stuff this good. A former US Army paratrooper/OSS officer/CIA agent turned wealthy silk magnate, complete with an ancient Thai compound on a canal in Bangkok who goes missing deep in the jungles of Malaysia. What was it? A tiger attack? An assassination when former enemies finally caught up with him? Or something else? No one knows. At least, no one who’s talking.
With that as the backdrop, here are a few more photos of the Jim Thompson House and Museum.
One of the exterior shots. The really good stuff was inside. I thought about trying to sneak a few photos, but then I remembered Thompson’s background and thought better of it.Our guide, in an area where photos were allowed.Hallway artifacts.More stuff outside.One last photo inside the Jim Thompson compound.
This was an amazing visit. I would have liked to have taken more photos of the inside of the home and the amazing ancient Thai artifacts it held, but as I mentioned above, no photography was allowed inside. You’ll just have to take my word for it. This is one amazing place and one amazing story. If you ever find yourself in Bangkok, seek out the Jim Thompson House and Museum. Most people have never heard of it. It’s one of the more fascinating places I’ve ever visited.
I took one more photo that day as Sue and I walked back to the train station. It was a convex mirror at a tight street intersection, you know, the kind that lets drivers approaching from either way see what’s around the corner. It called out for a selfie, and we answered that call.
Trust me on this: If you ever find yourself in Bangkok, the Jim Thompson House is a place that has to be on your “must see” list.
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The International Association of Chiefs of Police…it’s an organization most folks have never heard of, but it’s been around for 130 years. My good buddy Mike is a member and he invited me along as his guest to the 2023 IACP convention (Mike and I have known each other since the 7th grade, and that means we’ve been friends for more than 60 years). It’s the third or fourth time I’ve attended the IACP show, and it’s always great. The IACP convention was in San Diego this year, and any time I have an opportunity to visit that beautiful town, I’m in. Susie and I rolled south in the Subie; Mike had already flown in. All kinds of companies have exhibits at the IACP convention, and many federal and state law enforcement agencies have displays. The United States Secret Service was there and they had one of the presidential limos on display. The photo at the top of this blog is yours truly reflected in the presidential limo’s deep black paint.
So who exhibits at the IACP? All kinds of government organizations and all kinds of businesses. Many of the exhibitors were software companies (including Microsoft) specializing in data base and other police applications. There were several outfits advertising armor plating for people, automobiles, war wagons, and more.
Body armor in your choice of colors. I’d wear it, but it would make me look fat.Impressive. Bullet proof glass may become an optional accessory for civilians here in the Peoples Republik of Kalifornia.Another bullet proof barrier supplier. Check out the photos below.Here’s another bulletproof barrier company, with several of the cartridges its material can stop displayed.A close-up photo of one of the cartridges.The above door interior. None of the bullets made it through.
As you might expect, gun companies also display at the IACP convention. The ones I saw this year included Glock (with the largest display), SIG Sauer, Beretta, and a few different AR manufacturers. Surprisingly, Smith and Wesson wasn’t there (if they were, I missed them), nor was Colt (not many police departments carry Colt handguns these days).
Glock’s booth at the IACP convention. These guys had a lot of visitors. Glocks are popular and they are relatively inexpensive.
The Beretta and SIG booths were quiet. There was a lot of activity at the Glock exhibit. I spent some time at the Glock booth talking to one of their reps, and he was informative when I asked about using cast bullets in a Glock. I’d previously heard that Glock advises against using cast bullets in their pistols, and I asked if that was true. Glocks have barrels with polygonal rifling, and as such, there are no lands and grooves (there are just raised and lowered areas that twist along the barrel’s length). The Glock rep explained to me that they do indeed recommend not using cast bullets, as the lead has nowhere to go when it accumulates in the bore. When the barrels experiencing leading, it constricts the bore, and this raises pressures higher than what would be experienced in a conventionally-rifled pistol barrel. He said if you clean the barrel often enough (so that leading does not accumulate), shooting cast lead bullets would probably be okay, but how many shots can be fired before this becomes a problem is too dicey a proposition for Glock to provide a number. I also asked about copper plated (as opposed to jacketed) bullets, and the Glock rep told me that they advise against using those as well. To me, it’s not a big deal, as I don’t own a Glock, I always clean my guns, and virtually every firearm manufacturer advises against shooting reloaded ammo anyway. Eh, what do they know? The only time I ever shoot factory (i.e., non-reloaded) ammo in my handguns is when I have to requalify for my concealed carry permit.
Glock pistols. I don’t follow Glock, so I don’t know what their different models are. The red and the blue guns are training guns.SIG Sauer’s 226 X-5. This is an impressive handgun.
I saw the new SIG target model (the 226 X5) and I fell in love with it. Unfortunately, the X5 is not available to us here in the Peoples Republik of Kalifornia (it’s not on the California Department of Justice roster of approved handguns). The SIG X5 is expensive at $2219, but I’d buy one in a heartbeat if it was sold here. It fits like my hand like a glove and the trigger is superb. The grips are nice, too. The X5 has all steel construction, so it’s heavier than the standard 226 (which has an aluminum frame). I sure wish it was available here. On the plus side, SIG’s M18 is now available in California. It’s the Army’s new sidearm. It has a striker firing mechanism (there’s no hammer), so the trigger pull is not what I would call good (as is the case, in my opinion, with all striker-fired handguns). The M18 is about $700 and I am tempted. I like SIG handguns.
There were taser manufacturers and firearms training simulator manufacturers at IACP, too. The photos below show a taser virtual reality simulator. You wear a headset that covers your eyes and hold a taser gun. I think the company was Axon. They had about 20 stations for people to try it. The rep explained that you have to fire twice…once in a noncritical area and then again in another non-critical area. When you do that on the simulated bad guy in the virtual reality headset, the bad guy goes down. Sometimes you have to fire more than two times because your suspected felon doesn’t cooperate and keel over immediately. You get about 15 runs against assorted bad guys, and I toasted every one of them. Then there’s an officer needs assistance call where you roll up on a police officer having difficulty subduing a bad guy. I fried that bad guy, too. It was fun.
Virtual reality and a taser. It was awesome.Me, in my VR world.
Another company, Sim Lab, had a target gallery with moving silhouette targets and your choice of either a SIG or a Glock (I went with the SIG). I did pretty good on that one, too, and after I had toasted their bad guys the Sim Lab rep said I was a good shot. That made this IACP convention one of the best ever for me.
The Sim Lab setup. I opted for the SIG M18. I may get a real M18 one of these days.
After I shot the Sim Lab course, the rep asked if I wanted a video. Hey, does a man in the desert want water? Does a California resident want gas prices below $5 a gallon. “You bet,” I answered, and I fired the course again. It was fun. (Pro Tip: The video looks better if you expand it to full screen.)
There were a couple of first aid equipment manufacturers at IACP 2023, and the exhibits were surprisingly lifelike. And gruesome. You couldn’t walk by their exhibits without looking (and taking a photo or two).
This young lady is having a bad day. She lost a leg, she lost a hand, and someone slit her throat.
There were several vehicles on display. One was the Riverside County Sheriff’s command center. It was awesome. There were also armored vehicles. They were really cool. And there were police motorcycles.
The Riverside County Sheriff’s Mobile Command Post. It is impressive.An armored vehicle with a battering ram. Check out the gun port on the right door.Good buddy Mike peeking through the gunport.
Harley and BMW were the only two police motorcycle suppliers in attendance (which is probably fitting, as they are the only two gasoline-powered motorcycle manufacturers selling to US police departments). Mike and I both sat on the Harley. Its weight (840 pounds) could only be described as oppressive. I guess I’ve grown weaker in my old age. I could barely get the thing off the side stand. I’ve owned a couple of Harley full dressers. No more, though. For a lot of reasons, my Harley days are in the rearview mirror.
Mike on the police Harley. We both agreed: It’s a porker.
The Kawasaki KZ1000P, an iconic police motor if ever there was one, went out of production at least 20 years ago. But there was a pristine one on display. It was in a booth advertising communications equipment, and that company used it to showcase the early police comm equipment they used to manufacture. The Kawasaki (although it was 20 years old) was immaculate, as it should be. The odometer showed only 5 miles. Mike and I were both impressed. I would like to own this bike.
Yours truly with the no-longer-manufactured KZ1000P Kawasaki.The real deal, with just 5.3 miles on the odometer.
There was a company displaying an artistic Lucite arrangement lit up. It was interesting. I can’t remember who the company was, so I guessed it bombed as an advertisement, but it was cool. In the photo below, it shows Federal Signal. I’m not sure what they do. But if I ever needed a Lucite car bit of artwork, they would be my guys.
A Lucite car.
The United States Secret Service had what was probably the most interesting exhibit. It was one of the President’s Chevy Suburbans, complete with the presidential insignia and flag. I sat in the rear seat. There were real Secret Service agents there and they were nice guys. We joked with them a bit about taking care of Old Joe, because we sure didn’t want Kamala in the White House. They tried not to laugh, but I sensed strong agreement.
Hail to the Chief! The window glass on this SUV is at least an inch thick.
Boston Dynamics was there with a couple of their robotic dogs. You might have heard of Boston Dynamics. They were featured on 60 Minutes (the television show) a couple of years ago. The robotic dogs were cool. There was a real police dog there, too. It was not sure what to make of the robots.
One of the exhibits had a large table full of counterfeit $100 bill bundles. This was another cool exhibit that I have no idea what they were selling. But it was cool and it made for a couple of cool photos.
Money money money. I’m not sure what these guys were selling.Thumbing through a stack of hundred dollar bills.
One of the great things about these kinds of conventions are the goodies. Many of the exhibitors had bags (mine was from Blauer), and nearly all the booths had goodies. I was a grownup playing trick or treat, and I didn’t even need to wear a costume. Ordinarily, I don’t pick up much in the way of goodies at trade shows, but I have four grandchildren now and I was scooping it all up for them. At least that’s my story, and I’m sticking with it. I will tell you I won’t need to buy another pen for probably another 50 years.
The goodies bag. It was heavy by the end of the day. The grandkids will be pleased.
Mike and I had a super time wandering around in the IACP convention. So much so, in fact, that we reached the end of the day without eating lunch (and for me, that’s unusual). That was okay, because it made us look forward to dinner as we left the convention. As always, the dining in San Diego was superior. Whenever Sue and I visit another city, we don’t go to the touristy restaurants; we always search for the local favorites (and Sue does a stellar job in finding these). Valero’s got the nod our first night in town; it’s a small, family run Italian restaurant, and it was excellent. I had eggplant parmigiana, Sue had angel hair pasta with pesto sauce and mushrooms, and Mike had the pasta puttanesco. I’d never heard of that last one and when Mike translated the name to English I didn’t believe him initially, but he was right. I’ll have to try that one on our next visit. And there will be a next visit. Valero’s was outstanding.
Eggplant parmigiana that tasted as good as it looks.Angel hair with pesto sauce and mushrooms. It was awesome, too.Pasta puttanesca. It’s on the list for the next visit. Mike enjoyed it.
Our second night in town brought us to the Havana Grill, a Cuban restaurant not far from Old Town San Diego. It, too, was a local favorite and it was excellent.
Picadillo, which is beef seasoned with onions, peppers, garlic, olives, and raisins. I had it for dinner and it was fantastic.
So there you have it: A great visit with good buddy Mike, a super time at the International Association of Chiefs of Police Convention, and a great couple of days in San Diego.
