Feel Good Stuff – Page 3 – The ExhaustNotes Blog

The Wayback Machine: Riding in High Temps

By Joe Berk

With the temps hitting over 100 degrees out here, I thought it might be a good idea to rerun a blog we ran a few years ago. Let’s stay cool out here, folks!

I visited Chiriaco Summit and the Patton Museum last week (we’ll have a blog on it soon) and it was awesome. But wow, was it ever hot. As in 111 degrees when we left, and that’s not an unusually warm day out there in the Sonoran Desert. The next town over is called Thermal, and a little further north there’s this place called Death Valley. Death Valley recorded a whopping 131 degrees three weeks ago. Sensing a pattern?

Looks like the Mojave, doesn’t it? Nope. That’s Joe Gresh in the Gobi Desert. Gresh and I rode across it after coming down off the Tibetan Plateau. It was a bit warm out there.

Yeah, it gets warm in these parts, and in other parts of the world as well. Hot weather is not ideal riding weather, to say the least, but sometimes we find ourselves riding in shake and bake conditions. I’ve done it. I rode a 150cc scooter all the way down to Cabo and back in Baja’s hottest month of the year (September, when it was well over a hundred degrees every day). It was humid down there, too, once we crossed over to the Sea of Cortez side of the peninsula. We were literally entering the tropics as we crossed the Tropic of Cancer. Whoa, that was rough riding!

Simon Gandolfi, suspenders flying in the breeze, riding my Mustang replica bike south of the Tropic of Cancer in Baja California Sur. It was one of the hottest rides I ever experienced.

When we did the Western America Adventure Ride with CSC and the guys from Zongshen, we rode through the same corridors described earlier above, riding across California and the Mojave Desert, through Joshua Tree, and on into Arizona with temps approaching 110 degrees. That was brutal riding.

King Kong and Mr. Zuo in Joshua Tree National Park. That was another brutally hot day. Higher higher temps were still in front of us when we later rolled through Amboy, California. This picture became the cover photo for 5000 Miles At 8000 RPM. You should buy a copy or three (they make great gifts).

The ride across China that Joe Gresh and I did had similar challenges. It started out hot, then it got cold as we rode into the Tibetan Plateau, and then it became brutally hot and humid as we descended into central China and rode east to Qingdao. That was a 38-day ride, and I’d guess it was well over 100 degrees for at least 30 of those 38 days.

The risk, of course, is heat stroke, and it’s often not the kind of thing you can feel coming on. You’ll think you’re okay one minute, and the next you’re waking up in an emergency room wondering what happened. If you start to feel a headache while riding in hot weather, you are already perilously close to heat stroke. You need to stop, drink copious amounts of water, and get some shade. The better approach, though, is to not let yourself get anywhere near that condition, and that’s what this article is all about.

It almost seems like heresy to say it, but my first bit of advice about riding in hot weather is: Don’t. Given the choice, postpone the ride. But let’s assume that this is not an option, as was the case for each of the rides mentioned above. Okay, then…here’s my guidance on the topic.

12 Hot Weather Riding Tips

One: Don’t ride naked. I’m not trying to be funny here, and I’m not implying you might be the kind of person who would go down the road wearing nothing at all (although there is that story about Gresh riding around with only a bathrobe). Nope, what I’m talking about is not shucking your safety gear. You have to wear it. All of it. ATGATT. All the gear, all the time. You can’t peel it off just because it’s hot. It’s saved my life.

My Viking Cycles mesh jacket and the mighty Enfield.

Two: Wear a good mesh jacket. These are available from several sources. I have a Viking Cycles jacket I’m wearing these days and it works well. I wore a Joe Rocket mesh jacket on the ride across China and it made a big difference. You can get them from Viking Cycles, CSC Motorcycles, British Motorcycle Gear, and other sources. Trust me on this…you need a ventilated jacket for riding in hot weather. EDIT: We’re getting interesting comments advising not wearing a mesh jacket in hot weather. Make sure you read the comments below, and for those of you who responded, thanks very much!

Three: Use a cooling vest. These things actually work, but they’re not as easy to use as it sounds. They don’t work for long, but they work. The idea is you soak them, and then wear them under a jacket. The airflow causes the water in the vest to evaporate and that cools the vest and you. I’ve found that on really hot days these vests need to be remoistened about every thirty minutes, but you should be stopping that often anyway (more on that later). It’s the remoistening part that I don’t like. It seems like they take forever to soak up water when you remoisten them. I’ve found it easer to just get my clothes wet (see the next point below).

Four: Go soak your head (and everything else). Don’t laugh; I’ve done this. On the Baja ride I mentioned above, it was so unbearably hot that we took to pouring water down the inside of our riding jackets and inside our helmets at every stop. We became rolling evaporative coolers. It helped.

Five: Change your riding hours. On the really hot days, I like to hit the road at 0:Dark:30. Get out and get a hundred or so miles in before it gets unbearably hot. You’d need good lighting on your bike to do this (I generally don’t like to ride at night, but I’ll make an exception when I know it’s going to be hot). This is difficult to do when riding in a group because it’s hard to get everybody moving that early. If it was just me and Gresh or Welker, we’d leave way early and get in a couple of hours of riding (or more) before the sun comes up.

We knew it was going to be brutally hot riding through Joshua Tree and the Mojave Desert, so we left just before sunup on the first day of the Western America Adventure Ride.

Six: Drink a lot of water. The problem with riding in high temperatures is you don’t realize how much water you lose through perspiration. My advice is to stop every 30 minutes and drink a bottled water. Like I said above, most of us ain’t spring chickens, and you might be wondering if this means you’re going to be stopping a lot to pee. Hey, it’s a common old guy problem, but it won’t be in hot weather. Drink a lot of water; you’ll lose it through perspiration as you ride.

Seven: Avoid alcoholic beverages. Alcohol will cause you to dehydrate more rapidly, and that’s the opposite of what we’re trying to do here. You shouldn’t be consuming alcohol on a motorcycle ride anyway. Drinking any kind of alcohol while riding in hot weather is just stupid. Where I found you really have to watch this is when riding in a large group (there will be one or two riders who have to have that beer or two at lunch).

Beer is good, especially when it’s a Tecate at the Old Mill in Baja overlooking Bahia San Quintin. But save it for the end of the day, when the bikes are parked for the night.

Eight: Stop regularly to cool off. Find a bit of shade or someplace air conditioned, and get off the bike to cool down. When I ride in hot weather, I usually stop to cool off and rehydrate every 30 minutes or so.

Stopping to cool off at the Tropic of Cancer. Wow, it was hot and humid down there! We were off standing in the shade, drinking bottled water.

Nine: Keep your tires at recommended pressures. Another thing you definitely don’t want on a hot day is underinflated tires. Tires flex with every rotation, and flexing causes the tires to heat. Throw in high road surface temperatures with underinflated tires, and you’re flirting with a blowout. This is especially important to remember if you’re one of those guys or gals who deflate their tires for dirt riding. Don’t forget to pump them back up when you get back on the asphalt.

Ten: Don’t speed. Tar melts on hot days, and melted tar is slick. Factor that into your riding when it gets toasty.

A meal fit for a king, but not for lunch. You wouldn’t want to ride in hot weather immediately after this Baja seafood extravaganza.

Eleven: Eat light. Don’t over indulge. Heavy meals put a strain on your digestive system and your heart, and that can elevate your body temperature. When I was involved in testing munitions out in the Mojave on hot days (where it was sometimes over 120 degrees), we always brought along melons for lunch and nothing else. We didn’t need to keep them cool. They were a great treat, they seemed to make it a little cooler on those horrifically hot days, and they help to keep you hydrated. Good buddy Sergeant Zuo seemed to know all about that in China, too. We were riding through Ledu in central China one ferociously hot day when our favorite Chinese NCO stopped the group, disappeared, and returned with a couple of watermelons. That was a welcome respite and a marvelous treat. We ate a lot of watermelon in China.

Gresh taking a break in Ledu, China. That’s the Yellow River (China’s Mother River) behind Uncle Joe.

Twelve: Lighten up on the low sodium schtick. A lot of us older guys try to watch our sodium intake. When I was in the Army, they actually gave us salt tabs on really hot days when we were in the field, the theory being that we needed the sodium because we were losing so much through perspiration. I later heard the Army reversed that practice, but the fact is you lose a lot of minerals through perspiration. I don’t worry about my sodium intake when riding on hot days.

So there you have it. You know, most folks who ride motorcycles these days…well, how can I say this delicately? We aren’t spring chickens anymore. Motorcycling tends to be a thing mostly enjoyed by full-figured senior citizens, and we have to take care of ourselves, especially when we venture out on hot days.

If you other ideas about hot weather riding, let us know in the Comments section. We love hearing from you.

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The Sopranos: Paterson Falls

By Joe Berk

Another one of the stops on my New Jersey Sopranos tour was Paterson Falls. Although only about 40 miles or so from where I grew up, I’d never been there.

I knew of the town, though. It’s an old industrial village with waterfalls, which meant that in the early days of our country it was perfect for industrial development. The falls provided hydraulic power, and that could be used to drive machinery. Indeed, it’s where Samuel Colt built his first run of revolvers, which are known (not surprisingly) as Paterson Colts. Paterson was established as the nation’s first planned industrial city in 1792, with its readily-available hydraulic power and close proximity to New York City and the Atlantic Ocean. Paterson manufactured silk cloth, steam locomotives, textiles, paper, firearms, and aircraft engines. It is centered on the Passaic River, which flows into Newark Bay and from there to the Atlantic Ocean.

The Passaic Falls are contained within the Paterson Great Falls National Historic Park, which is (as the name implies) part of the U.S. National Park system. All this was news to me, which is kind of amazing when you consider that I grew up a short 40 miles to the south. I’d never known any of this, and to learn about it at my age was surprising. I’ll give the credit for that to David Chase (the guy who created The Sopranos). Had that show not sparked my interest, I’d still be ignorant.

So, let’s move on to the scene in The Sopranos that caught my attention. It’s the episode in which Mikey Palmici (Uncle Junior’s driver and bodyguard) throws a drug dealer off the bridge over the Passaic Falls:

That episode you see above occurred later in The Sopranos. There was another scene in the very first Sopranos episode on the same bridge shown above in which Hesh Rabkin and Big Pussy Bompensiero (two of The Sopranos characters) threaten to throw a health insurance company executive (a guy named Alex Mahaffey, played by Michael Gaston) off the same bridge if he didn’t cooperate with a Sopranos scam to defraud the insurance company.

When threatened with a swan dive off the bridge, Mahaffey gave in to the Soprano family’s demands, but alas, his Sopranos career was over; Michael Gaston never appeared in another episode. But that didn’t mean Sue and I wouldn’t see him again. In one of our trips to New Jersey, we rode the Air Trans shuttle between the airport and the rental car facility. Just before we boarded the shuttle, Michael Gaston was leaving the car we entered. We didn’t bug him, but we made eye contact and he knew we knew who he was.

Michael Gaston, an actor we bumped into on the Newark Airport Air Trans.

There’s a lot more to Paterson, though, then simply having been a location for a couple of The Sopranos scenes. Here’s another video that describes Paterson’s history:

Today, Paterson is undergoing a renaissance, as the old factory buildings are being converted to loft apartments. Yup, Paterson is being yuppified. It looks like an interesting place to spend more time, but my schedule didn’t permit doing so on this visit. For us it was roll into town, grab a few photos, and bail.

A view of Passaic Falls. This is a beautiful area.

The wood-surfaced foot bridge featured in two different Sopranos episodes.

Another view of the bridge. It’s closed to the public. On the Internet, it says it’s for safety reasons. One of my police buddies told me it’s because there were too many suicides from this bridge.

Another view of the Passaic River and its Falls in Paterson.

While we were visiting the Paterson Great Falls National Historic Park, this rather plump groundhog was doing the same. My Dad used to hunt these in New Jersey with his .243 Model 70 Winchester and the farmers loved having him do so. These woodchucks may look cute, but they destroy a lot of crops.

One thing I know for sure: I’ll return to Paterson. I’d like to explore the city, its museums, and more in greater detail.

Want to see our other visits to The Sopranos locations? Here they are:

The Sopranos Mansion

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Koh Tao, Thailand

By Mike Huber

Having a new addiction to scuba diving, it didn’t take me long to learn that Koh Tao (an island in southern Thailand) was another mecca for my new hobby. Koh Tao wasn’t a very large island and I was a bit concerned I would succumb to island fever. The big difference is now I would be spending much of my time underwater, thus making the island much larger and more exciting than previous islands I had visited. This new hobby opened up a new world to me just as learning to off-road on the BMW GS1200 had done. They both were previously unexplored frontiers that drew me in and begged for more exploration after each experience.

Koh Tao isn’t exactly easy to travel to from anywhere as you need to fly or bus, and then take a 3-hour ferry out to the island. This to me made it a great destination as I knew those that were there were far off the beaten path and would be well grounded (mentally, not geographically). Although the island was touristy, it was small enough that it was easy to make friends quickly. Another draw to this isolated location was that almost anyone that was here long term had the same line “I came here to visit for two weeks and never left and that was X years ago.” This clearly told me it was a great place to set up a home base for a while and improve on my diving skills.

Outside doing a short blast up to Cambodia and some rest time in Bangkok (yes, it is possible to rest in Bangkok), the past month has been spent in scuba classes (to include advanced diver and rescue diver certifications), fun dives, spending time on the beach, and really just taking a few moments to enjoy chatting with someone at a bar while being fully present in life. The laid back island vibe and hospitality was something that had been missing in my previous travels due to my constant moving. Koh Tao is where I was learning to finally slow down and really embrace the moments without tripping myself up with the racing thoughts I previously had of “what’s next?” This provided an important step into my new lifestyle.

The happiness of being in the moment with my focus on watching my dive log fatten and my circle of friends grow is all I need at this time. As I wrap this article up while sitting at a beach bar with a cold Chang beer sweating next to my laptop, it has me thinking if one day I will tell others “Yeah, I just came here for two weeks but that was X years ago.”

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ExNotes Review: Doremi Kawasaki Z1 Body Set

By Joe Gresh

Zed has been dormant for a few years. The bike has a running issue that has eluded my best efforts to remedy. But this story isn’t about my mechanical incompetence. This story is about Zed’s gas tank.

Back in the Zed’s Not Dead series I cleaned the tank fairly well using the apple cider vinegar method. The cider/baking soda trick works well but Zed’s tank was looking a little crusty after sitting two years with alcohol laced fuel inside.

I decided to give the tank a second cider session. All went well and the tank was spotless inside. I installed the tank and filled it with fresh gas. Checking the tank for leaks revealed none so I closed up the shed and retired to dream big dreams of fun motorcycle rides to come.

The next morning when I opened the shed a strong odor of gasoline hit my nose. Fuel was everywhere under Zed. The right side tank bottom was soaking wet. Apparently only the paint was covering pinhole rust-through spots. After draining the remaining fuel I ran a wire brush over the bottom of the tank, which revealed a ton of tiny holes.

My initial plan, because I can’t let it go, was to cut out the bottom of the tank, fabricate a new sheet metal piece to fit and then braze the new bottom into the tank. It’s a good plan and it might have worked.

Instead, I went with Plan B: a new set of painted bodywork from Doremi (a Zed parts supplier out of Japan). Doremi is resold by several different companies in the US. I chose Cycles R Us, an eBay seller because they had the correct year and color in stock and their shipping was only $39. Prices for the body set are mostly the same (around $1500 with some outliers at $1700).

I know what you’re thinking: that’s a lot of money for a cheap bastard like me. It killed me to spend the money but used tanks are going for $500 and new, unpainted reproduction tanks are $400. Not to mention a professional paint job on my repaired stuff would probably exceed $1200.

One of the good things about the soaring value of Z1 Kawasaki’s is that you can spend money restoring them with a good chance of getting your investment back (minus your labor)

Enough of the rationalizations: let’s get into the product. Opening the well packaged box from Doremi was breathtaking. The paint is stunning. I cannot find a flaw anywhere and I don’t think the factory Kawasaki paint looked this good back when the bike was new on the showroom floor.

For 1975 Kawasaki’s Z1 had two color choices, a metallic aqua-blue that was pretty and my bike’s color, a dark burgundy that looks almost brown in low light. The color pops deep red metallic when a single photon from the sun strikes the paint surface. The stripes are perfectly applied and I cannot fault the quality of Doremi’s product.

My kit came with new tank badges and a new gas cap, some resellers break these parts out of the kit and sell them separately.

The tank badges are flat when you get them and require gentle bending by hand to fit the curvature of the gas tank. This is kind of a trial and error thing. I got the badges pretty close but they still need a little tweaking near the front. I stopped bending them mostly because I was worried about messing them up.

The gas cap comes loose in another bag. Putting the cap on was pretty easy once the roll pin was test fit into the tank.

The gas cap latch was a little harder to install. The instructions were oddly worded and there are some notches you are supposed to file into the underside of the latch. The photos aren’t super clear and I could find no reason to file notches so I ignored the instructions and did it the way I wanted.

The main issue with the gas cap latch is getting the little torsion spring inside the latch then holding it concentric while the pivot shaft is slid into place. The instructions recommended using a small, flat blade screwdriver, I tried that but it was fumbly and the spring never ended up in the correct location.

The method I settled on was to compress the torsion spring and capture the two ends with a small tube (the interior metal barrel of a wire crimp connector) once you have both ends of the spring under control it’s easy to insert the spring and line it up with the pivot shaft.

The latch’s pivot shaft is sort of a rivet. After it’s in place you have to peen over the end. This is a two-man job as you’ll need to hold a weight against the pivot head on one side while rolling the other end. I’ll get CT to help me with this step.

The new side covers arrived without badges so I used the original badges. The old badges were in fair condition but I suspect the reseller removed the new badges from the Doremi kit.

The new tail section was a bit fiddley in that the bolt holes didn’t quite line up perfectly like the original tail. You reuse the original Kawasaki grommets and spacers with the new tail. Maybe new grommets would be softer and have more give. It took a little aggressive tugging to get all four bolts lined up and in place. I imagine the plastic will take a set in its new position and future fitting will be easier.

Zed’s original paint was in horrible condition, the bike had sat outside for an indeterminate length of time. Talk about patina. I cleaned up the old paint as much as I could but it was tatty and dead. The Doremi body kit transformed the bike: it looks like a new, 1975 Kawasaki Z1-B. The bike is beautiful in the sunlight with the perfectly smooth surfaces changing color as you move about. Damn, this bike looks good.

Is the Doremi body set worth $1500? If your old stuff is rusted, yes. Even if your old stuff is in good shape you’d be hard pressed to find a painter who could lay down a beautiful job like Doremi for $1500. It’s like you’re paying for a paint job and the bodywork is free!

I recommend the Doremi highly. If we had a rating system at exhaustnotes it would get top marks. If you want your Z1 to look like a new bike get the Doremi.

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Indonesia: Part 4

By Mike Huber

It was a relief to be back on the boat and done diving for the day. My anxiety level was still pretty high having run out of air 10 meters below the ocean’s surface on my second dive. Nonetheless, I registered to dive the following day. There was a sense of relief knowing that I would have the same diving partner. He understood the emotions going through my head and he would be right at my side to help me through the next dive.

The remainder of the boat ride back to the dock consisted of me pulling sea urchin spines out from everywhere on my body with needle-nosed pliers. That’s one way to pass the time. The spines under my fingernail would need to be pulled out by a doctor at a medical clinic somewhere in Flores. My biggest concern was that it might become infected. The closest clinic was a few kilometers outside of town so I would have to taxi to get there.

Then, upon disembarking from the boat I looked up and saw an Indonesian Naval Base. Right behind the gate was a giant red cross. I decided to give it a try, not expecting any success. The Military Police stopped me instantly ,asking what I was doing. I showed them my finger and pointed to the red cross behind them. They invited me in and within 5 minutes I had an Indonesian Naval Officer using a razor blade to pull the pines out from under my fingernail. After about 45 minutes of him carefully removing all the spines, he gave me some antibiotics, he only charged me about $12 (US), and he sent me on my way. During the whole ordeal he and I were chatting quite a bit over our past military experience and we even exchanged phone numbers. We trade texts every few weeks.

With the sea urchin spines removed, the next day came and it was time to get over my anxiety from the previous dive. The first dive of the day proved to be challenging and my only motivation was to just survive it. I wasn’t too concerned with the enjoyment or the wildlife. Fortunately, by the second dive I had regained my confidence and was back to enjoying this hobby again. Swimming by seven manta rays changed my mind and helped me reprioritize my goals.

My 30-day Indonesian visa was nearing expiration. Indonesia has around 7,000 islands and was much too large to cover in 30 days. Even having experienced 10 of the islands felt rushed. I knew I would need to slow my travel to more deeply absorb these countries. Having done SCUBA dives in two countries, racking up 19 dives, and overcoming adversity provided renewed confidence. I was ready for the next country: Thailand.

Inbound!

By Joe Berk

We’ve got a bunch of good stuff coming your way, my friends. I just finished a whirlwind week in New Jersey, we hit some of the Sopranos film locations, I grabbed a bunch of very cool Norton P11 photos, we saw where Bruce Springsteen was setting up for a concert in Asbury Park, I have a review on the new Garmin chronograph about to go live, Mike Huber (aka Mike Nelson) is down there in Indonesia and Thailand becoming one with the sea turtles, I’ve got a review on Ruger Customer Service and my revamped .357 Bisley, Joe Gresh has his Z1 Kawi all dressed up with lots of new places to go, and lots, lots more.

Andrew Capone, Isle of Man impresario and British Motocycle Gear CEO, with an unknown paparazzi reflected in a Norton Scrambler fender at an undisclosed location in New Jersey.

All dressed up with lots of places to go…Joe Gresh and the Z1…the gift that keeps on giving!

How fast is fast? Stay tuned, and we’ll tell you!

Bisley mania! Plinking at 100 yards with a handgun? You bet!

Andrew, Harry (aka “the Norton Whisperer”), and what is unquestionably one of the most beautiful motorcycles ever made!

There’s ink, and then there’s Sopranos ink. Oh, do we have a story for you!

You know, we blew right by 1500 blogs some time ago, and I started to wonder if we were going to run out of things to write about. Nope. Not gonna happen. It’s like when one of my geezer buddies told me he didn’t know what to say at a lunch gathering, and another of my geezer friends told him, “Don’t worry…you’ll keep talking until you think of something.”

Stay tuned, my Amigos…

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Indonesia: Part 3

By Mike Huber

Having found myself in Flores, Indonesia (one of the scuba diving meccas of Southeast Asia) I took it upon myself to dive as much as I could. On my second dive of the first day I saw some manta rays up close and personal and I managed to get a lot of sea urchin spines under my fingernails, hands, and pretty much everywhere. I was bleeding green as I was deep enough underwater that colors would change, and it looked like I had been rolling around in some saguaro cactus or been on the losing side of a fight with a porcupine. I had spines sticking out from every part of my wetsuit.

This was part of the adventure and part of the learning. What I didn’t expect was upon our ascent my air ran out, even though moments earlier I had checked and confirmed I was at about 25%. This was another “So this is how it ends” moment. There wasn’t much time to think about that as I was not prepared for running out of air. I figured I just had moments before I would black out due to no oxygen. Being about 10 meters deep I knew I could have just surfaced quickly to get air and many people probably would have done that. Well, just as in jumping out of airplanes, you train for these type of scenarios. Also, the approach is to take your time as you have the rest of your life to resolve the no air issues, just as you would with a parachute malfunction. The problem with that mindset is that the end of your life is only seconds away.

Fortunately, my dive partner was only a short swim away. I swam over to him as quickly as possible, signaled him I had no air, and calmly (I was actually panicking by this point) grabbed his secondary air hose, and took a much-needed breath in.

That first breath in was a relief on every level you can possibly imagine. We then performed our 3-minute safety stop off using both of his air supplies before we surfaced. Even with my fingers still bleeding from the sea urchin spines and having run out of air, I managed to make a couple jokes as we swam back to the safety of the boat. This is where we learned that my regulator was faulty and provided a false reading on the amount of air remaining. That was a bit of a relief that it wasn’t some rookie mistake by me.

The joking ended on my next dive that day. As soon as I hit the water I had some massive anxiety about the no air issues and going under. It was so intense that everyone on the team had already submerged and I was just sitting there on the surface having fear to let the air out of my BCD to sink and join the rest.

After a few moments, it passed and I did join them. I don’t think I have ever swam as close to a dive partner as I did on that dive. My air barely lasted 32 minutes as my stress and anxiety were causing me to breathe faster, using up my air rather quickly. This was fine with me, as I really had no interest in staying underwater.

Once back on the boat, I was seriously thinking that scuba diving wasn’t for me and would bow out of it using one excuse or another. The lack of air experience was that traumatizing. I began to think back to the Army and our jumps. Whenever someone had a bad jump the best thing to overcome it was to put them on the very next jump ton regain their confidence so they could continue to be effective. Since diving and jumping had so many parallels, I thought this would be the best way. I booked three more dives the next day with the mindset if I didn’t overcome it I would quit diving. I owed it to myself to give it one more try.

More epic adventures are here!

Tony Soprano’s Home

By Joe Berk

The scenes and the locations are iconic, and I take pride in recognizing every one of them in The Sopranos opening credits. The music, the New Jersey Turnpike toll booth, the aged industrial locations, Pizzaland, and motoring up that long driveway at 14 Aspen Drive in North Caldwell, New Jersey. Today’s topic is the home you see at the beginning of every episode in what is unquestionably the best television series that ever aired.

I had originally seen the series sometime after it first ran on HBO. I didn’t at first recognize how wonderful the show was and how it would come to be known throughout the world. It was so good that many people think Tony Soprano is real. I was in Scotland for a consulting gig when my driver, an elderly gentleman, recognized my American accent but told me I didn’t sound “like California.”

“I’m originally from New Jersey,” I explained.

My driver grew silent. He was thinking. Finally, the Question: “Do you know Tony Soprano?” He was dead serious. We were in Glasgow on a motorway taking me to my destination, and here was this Scot asking me about a fictional character. One who obviously seemed all too real to anyone who watched the show.

“I never actually met the man,” I truthfully answered, “But I know people who knew him.”

What I told the driver was true, sort of. James Gandolfini, one of Tony’s many aliases, was a Jersey boy like me. He graduated from my alma mater, Rutgers University. I could identify with The Sopranos and its New Jersey setting. I knew people who spoke with the same accent and who most likely knew the DeCavalcante crime family (the real-world gangsters The Sopranos modeled). Hell, I speak with the same accent, and that old Scot picked up on it in Glasgow. Did I know Tony? Hey, I could name names, but I don’t want to sleep with the fish. I’m no rat.

On a recent trip, I thought it might be fun to Waze my way to a few of The Sopranos locations. The list was long, as the show was mostly shot in New Jersey (as were most of the guys and a couple of gals who fell from Tony’s favor). The first location I would visit, of course, had to be Tony and Carmela’s mansion. Waze knew the way. The Garden State Parkway took me there, and that seemed fitting.

When we arrived, the cul-de-sac was way smaller than it had appeared each morning when a bathrobe-clad Tony waddled down the driveway to pick up his Newark Star Ledger (a paper I used to read, by the way). I couldn’t see too much of the mansion, the result of 25 years of landscaping doing what landscaping does. The trees and bushes had grown to obscure the view from the street. It’s what Tony (or any organized crime figure) would have wanted. Best to keep a low profile, free from Agent Harris’s probing eyes.

When a guy like Tony Soprano posts a sign like this, I pay attention. Nah, not really. What’s he gonna do? Coincidentally, we had that same mailbox in front of our house for years. It leaked and we grew tired of wet mail.

There it was, tucked away behind the vegetation, most definitely the mansion featured in so many episodes and, as mentioned above, in the opening at the start of every episode. Even though the current occupants obviously discouraged visitors, we still took our chances. As I was snapping photos midmorning on this New Jersey weekday, others appeared and did the same. Some of them might have been FBI agents. The fans of fame kept the flame burning bright, almost three decades after the music and the scenes first appeared. Note to self: Make the next visit in the dead of winter when the trees are bare, and do so late in the afternoon when the sun is in a better position. The lighting was not good when I gathered this evidence; a good lawyer could get the photos thrown out in court (a junior G-Man I’m not).

14 Aspen Drive. If you listen carefully, you can hear Carmela bitching.

The sign’s admonitions notwithstanding, I looked around and started working the Nikon’s shutter (I’m not gonna lay down for some mailbox sign). The neighborhood was befitting a kingpin like Tony Soprano. The home on the other side of the cul-de-sac was better lit by the sun’s mid-morning rays, so I had to shoot it, too. Collateral damage; couldn’t be helped. An impressive zip code, to be sure.

A home across the street from Tony’s place. This is an exclusive neighborhood.

I liked The Sopranos television series then and I like it now. I watch The Sopranos episodes on my cellphone (it’s running on Max) when I’m working out. I get through an episode or so each time I visit the gym. I’ve been through the entire series four times (and I’m into Season 5 for the fifth time now). I started binge watching The Sopranos 18 pounds ago. The Sopranos have been very good to me, my waistline, my cholesterol, and my A1C. I need to buy a new belt, and Tony is the guy who made that happen.

So what’s next? Paterson Falls, my friend. It’s where Mikey Palmici threw a drug dealer off the bridge. Stay tuned if you know what’s good for you.

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Indonesia: Part 2

By Mike Huber

It took about a week to get to Flores, Indonesia from Bali, as it is over 1,000 kilometers away. This was accomplished via three ferries and finally, a 4-day cruise. The cruise was a blast, but once aboard I realized it was a one-way cruise and I would have to find a ferry back (which could take up to 36 hours) or book a return flight to Bali. Normally this would alarm most people, but I had time to kill and quickly learned Flores was an Indonesian scuba diving mecca. Some of the most beautiful wildlife could be seen diving here. This was not a bad place to have a several-day layover.

It didn’t take long to find a scuba company. It had only been a few days since my prior dive and I was already itching to get back underwater. I chose a dive center based on its three-dives-in-one-day regimen. Most the other dive centers only offered two dives in one day. This would help rack up my dive numbers (and my experience, as I would soon learn).

Diving the Komodo Islands is just amazing on so many levels. The biggest draw is the wildlife. The second draw is the strength of the underwater currents. On an average dive we would float with the current for close to an hour and travel several kilometers during the dive. The current was a constant underwater river that was at times overwhelming, depending on the direction it was taking you.

If you got caught in a side current it would feel like you were on the Space Station and someone just cut your tether and you were floating off into nothingness. Feelings of anxiety emerged when this happened, and this caused me to go through more of my air and shorten my dive. It was always important to remain calm, move slowly, and not over-react. That’s easier said than done.

The cool part about these currents is when I was in a “controlled” area I could just watch the beautiful corals go by. The downside was if I saw a turtle or another cool species of wildlife, I really couldn’t get to it as I was swept along with the current. We were told, if possible, to get low to the ocean floor and grab a large rock as an anchor so we could enjoy the wildlife.

I took this rock grabbing suggestion as I happened upon three beautiful manta rays. They were huge, about 12 feet in width. While blowing by them in the current it was like they were in an underwater thermal hovering in place motionless unaffected by the strong currents. It was like watching a stealth fighter Jet hover. Meanwhile I was doing my best to slow down to try to remain close to them. As I descended to the ocean floor seeking refuge from the currents behind a large piece of coral, I grabbed a rock. I instantly felt something sharp on my fingers. I had accidently grabbed a sea urchin and the spines were in all my fingers to include deep under my fingernail. Almost instantly a large gushing of green fluid began pouring out of my fingers. This is when I learned you bleed green when you are deep under water.

Realizing there was nothing I could do about the bleeding until I surfaced, my focus was on watching the manta rays flying by as the current pulled me just underneath them. During this time, I religiously checked my air levels on my respirator. Once I hit 60 bar (25%) it would be time to slowly return to the surface.

We began our ascent to a 3-minute safety stop at 5 meters below the surface to allow our bodies to adjust to the pressure. At around 10 meters and still being abused by the strong currents I went to breathe in and there was nothing there. It was as though I was breathing through a straw and then suddenly someone put their finger over the end. I was out of air. This was a good time to see how much of the training I actually retained and how much of I ignored while being distracted by the beautiful scuba instructor in Australia.

More epic adventures are here!

Indonesia: Part 1

Mike Huber

My visa was nearing expiration in Australia (I had 90 days left), and my speeding tickets were exceeding $1700 Australian. The speeding tickets were from cameras. In the United States, the Constitution protects us (you can fight and win those tickets 100% of the time in the USA, but not in Australia). It was time to choose a new country to visit, at least for a short while. To me it made sense to leave my beloved Oceania and head north. Looking at the map, Southeast Asia beckoned.

Indonesia, in particular, seemed to be the best choice, and it would be my next destination. Bali, to be exact. This would provide a less westernized culture than the previous countries I had visited. Another advantage was it appealed to my new interest. I kept hearing how magnificent the scuba diving was there. So that would be incorporated into my adventures.

After the whirlwind trip through Australia, the first three days in Bali (except for some morning surfing) were spent resting in my hotel room. I needed the time to recharge and just sit back and pretend I was on vacation. Yes, I know I am sort of always on vacation, but even with this laid-back lifestyle the constant moving becomes a fulltime job.

Once rested it was time to book several ferries and boats out to Komodo National Park (it isn’t easy to get to). Visiting this epic National Park would provide me with the chance to see Komodo dragons, the largest lizard on Earth, as well as plenty of opportunities to hone my new skills as a diver. This was an experience that I could not miss while visiting Indonesia.

The day trip to Komodo Island was fantastic. What made it most memorable was actually seeing a few of these giant reptiles in the wild, as up close and personal as I was comfortable with. That distance happened to be about 6 feet for me I soon learned. Even though being in a tour group of 20 people when the Komodo dragon chose a path, our group was instructed to let it through. The crowd parted like the Red Sea and the giant reptile chose the direction it wanted, and it moved with a purpose!

These giants can move up to 12 miles per hour. Some weigh as much as 150 pounds. They can take down local deer and they have no natural enemies. This meant we were guests on their island and without a stick or other type of weapon we were not on the top of the food chain. It’s always a humbling moment when you realize this.

After a day exploring Komodo National Park with large sticks in hand, I found myself in Flores, Indonesia. It’s a small island about an hour’s boat ride from Komodo National Park. Little did I realize how much of a scuba diving mecca this was (see any of my previous articles about my lack of planning). There were literally dive shops and tours every three to four buildings. It was that densely populated with the scuba community. It was perfect. This would be a great home base for a week or so to dive and continue catching up on rest from the Australia travels. It now was time to book a scuba adventure in Bali, Indonesia.

More epic adventures are here!