I had a chance to fire the new SIG M18 9mm handgun, which was recently added to the California Department of Justice roster of approved handguns here in the People’s Republik. I was impressed with the M18’s accuracy, grouping, comfort level, feel, and sights. I love the desert tan colors. I was not impressed with the trigger (more on that in a bit).
It was a good day on my local indoor pistol range, and as I was leaving, my good buddy Shannon asked where I’ve been (I hadn’t been there in a few weeks). “Overseas,” I told her. She then pointed to the new M18 SIGs they had in the display case and asked if I’d like to try one. That reminded me of the old joke about the guy with the wooden eye. I responded with an affirmative and rhetorical, “Would I?”
The venerable 1911. It’s chambered in .45 ACP. All steel and with a Parkerized finish, as God intended. In my opinion, you can’t improve on perfection, but the Army had other ideas.
A bit of background: The US Army and I have something in common: We change handguns on a regular basis. The Army had been using the venerable .45 ACP 1911 since about, well, 1911. It served the Army well (and still serves well in certain special ops units), but the Army decided it wanted something better. That led to adoption of the 9mm Beretta 92 (designated as the M9 for the military) in 1985. I never cared for the Beretta, so I’ve never owned one and I can’t tell you anything about how it shoots or feels. The M9 had pushed out my beloved 1911, so I didn’t like it. Period. No handling or testing required.
The Army wanted a smaller pistol cartridge, and it settled on the Beretta M9. The M9 has an aluminum frame. Bob likes it.
The Army quickly decided it didn’t much like the Beretta, either. But the Army is big and it moves slowly when it’s not lobbying for more funding from Congress, and it wasn’t until 2017 that they decided to go with a militarized version of the 9mm SIG P320. There are two versions of the new military handgun: The M17, which has a 4.7-inch barrel, and the M18, with a 3.9-inch barrel. Both are full sized handguns with magazines carrying a gazillion rounds, and until recently, neither was available to lowly and untrustworthy civilians here in the People’s Republik of Kalifornia. Nah, scratch that. Lowly or not, trustworthy or not, no California civilians could purchase either of the new SIGS, although weirdly, we could purchase the civilian gun from which it was derived, the SIG P320. Go figure.
The SIG P320, the gun the M17 and M18 handguns are based on. All three guns (the P320, the M17, and the M18) have a polymer gripframe. You can tell they’re swell (I’m not going to explain that comment; you have to be old enough to get it).The 9mm SIG M17. Note the longer barrel length.The gun I fired: The SIG M18.
The SIG M18 recently appeared on the California Department of Justice approved handguns roster. That’s just a bit on the weird side, too, because the M18 is the version with the shorter (i.e., slightly more concealable) barrel. You’d think in their wholesome attempts to keep us pure our legislators would have approved the longer-barreled M17. Maybe they will in the future.
The Rock Island Compact 1911. This is a short barreled, shorter grip frame 1911 chambered in .45 ACP.My Smith and Wesson Shield. It has a very short barrel compared to either the SIG M17 or M18, which makes my shooting with it a bit less accurate.
I had fun on the range. I shot a box of .45 ammo in my Compact 1911, and then two boxes of ammo in my Smith and Wesson Shield. I was doing pretty good with both, too. It’s a pleasant way to spend an afternoon. As I was leaving the range, Shannon told me about the new M18s they had in stock and offered a trial run, so I put a box of 50 rounds through one of them.
I used a 6:00 hold on the orange bullseye on both targets, and I fired 50 rounds at each. The Shield target is on the left; the SIG target is on the right. Both guns are good enough; the M18 is surprisingly accurate.
As I said above, I didn’t care for the M18 trigger (the M18 is a striker-fired handgun; give me a hammer-fired gun any day). But the thing was accurate, even with the Joe Biden trigger (it was clumsy and creepy). I put nearly all 50 rounds through a single jagged hole at my point of aim 10 yards downrange, and then I started hitting low with the last few rounds. The few that dropped a bit below the orange bullseye were entirely due to me being tired and shaky (it wasn’t the gun; I was coming up on 200 rounds in that range session and I’m an old man). The bottom line: I like the new M18. A lot. I may buy one somewhere down the road, unless the M17 gets approved in California first.
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.
Never miss an ExNotes blog:
Help us bring more to you: Please click on the popup ads!
I had a good morning at the West End Gun Club recently. I shot the 6.5 Creedmoor rifles, a .223 Browning Micro Medallion, and Jim Gardner’s powder-coated cast bullets in a 7mm Remington Magnum Ruger No. 1. I might get around to writing about the other rifles, but for today, the focus is on the 7mm Magnum No. 1 and powder-coated cast bullets. I’ve written about shooting 7mm cast bullets in the No. 1 before; those results were mediocre and the barrel leaded enough after five rounds that accuracy went to hell (I had to clean the bore with a bristle brush after ever group). The powder coating Jim applies makes a difference. The Gardner powder-coated bullets did not lead the barrel (at all) and the results were good. I think I’ve finally found a decent cast bullet load for this rifle.
I have had a lot of difficulty making this rifle perform with the powder-coated cast bullets. It was apparent they weren’t leading like my other cast bullets had, but they weren’t very accurate. Neck sizing only, which often improves accuracy, compounded the felony. It didn’t work well at all, mostly because I couldn’t chamber most of the rounds (even though they had been fired in the same 7mm Magnum Ruger No. 1 rifle). I also tried seating the bullets further out, but one got stuck when I chambered a round and when I removed it, the bullet came out of the case and Trail Boss propellant spilled all over the guts of the rifle. That led to it not extracting, so I had to disassemble the action and clean everything. I also tried crimping, but those rounds weren’t any better.
This morning’s batch were full length resized, not trimmed, and not crimped. I flared the case mouth just a tiny bit to let the Gardner powder -coated bullets enter without shaving any of the powder coating or the lead, and I seated them a little deeper so that they did not contact the rifling. When I seated the bullets this time, they expanded the case mouth just enough to eliminate the flare. This batch chambered easily.
I had one round left over from a previous batch, and I fired it first (all shots are and groups discussed here were 50 yards from a rest). That one round was left over because it wouldn’t chamber the previous time I had the rifle out because the case had deformed slightly when I overcrimped it. I had to run that round through the full length resizer (bullet and all, with the decapping pin removed) so it would chamber. It was my first shot of the day and it shot a little to the right (as you can see above). That first group was the biggest group of the morning.
I then shot four more groups, and all the rest grouped nicely.
At 50 yards, these aren’t what I would call amazing groups, but they are getting better and that one half-inch group shows promise. I bought a thousand of the Gardner powder coated bullets, so it’s nice to know I can get then to work. The powder charge was 18 grains of Trail Boss, dispensed (not individually measured). I may go out to a hundred yards on the next outing to see how they perform. But where they are, I’d feel comfortable chasing rabbits with them.
The tricks to this load were full length resizing, no crimp, very slight case mouth flare, 18.0 grains of Trail Boss, Winchester large rifle primers, Remington brass, and a cartridge overall length of 3.127 inches. I’m going to try this load again. The brass is in the tumbler now.
Having recently turned 50 and even though I feel it has been a super intense and successful ride (I’m still alive, so I guess that’s a barometer for success), I felt myself falling into a rut. I was unfulfilled in my job and things were just…blah. A close friend of mine made this analogy: When things tend to go flat for me I come in the room and flip the table over and the game board and pieces go flying everywhere. Well, it was time to flip the table again, and to do it with authority.
My job had been a great vehicle in my life for college, certifications, and traveling the world, but it seemed to have broken down on a desolate desert road with radiator fluid spewing all over the cactus that surrounded it. My management and the leaders above me were spectacular, but I was stuck and having been there for 21 years, I felt it was time to move on. My boss, after laying others off, didn’t look too well as he prepared me for the news over a video call. I wanted to volunteer for the layoff and simply said, “Sir, this will be the easiest call you have all day.” I had a Cuban cigar and a glass of whiskey ready when I heard the numbers. I instantly knew I had made the right decision when I felt a massive weight lift off me.
What to do with my life now was the next question. It didn’t take me long to realize I should blast out on the bike to figure it out. While riding through Joshua Tree National Park I reflected on my time in Peru. I took a trip up the Amazon and at a friend’s suggestion I tried this mystical hallucinogenic drink called ayahuasca under the guidance of a Peruvian shaman. It was an intense experience (to say the least) and it was a solid restart of my entire system. I felt as though it was time for this sacred drink again.
After a 3-month ride to British Columbia (nothing is ever a direct route for me) and experiencing some failures with the motorcycle, I arrived at my friend’s retreat. Ayahuasca isn’t a pleasant experience for me. It is a lot of work. You face your true inner self, even if you don’t want to. This can be painful and ugly. It is intense. In my life, there are two things that scared me: Exiting an aircraft in flight and drinking ayahuasca. Everything else is manageable.
I was beyond nervous so I thought prior to arriving I would throw a few casts out to kill an hour or two. My first cast I caught a beautiful bass.
The preparation for these ceremonies was not something to be taken lightly. This includes a very strict diet of no processed food or alcohol, and meats limited to chicken, turkey, or fish. The bass was a perfect meal to share with my new friends.
I arrived on my semi-trusty BMW GS1200 (the semi part is an0ther story) and pitched my tent where I would sleep after the ceremonies. There were 11 others that would be drinking along with 2 practitioners overseeing the ceremony. It would take place at 20:00 (that’s 8:00 p.m.) in a yurt on a beautiful piece of land next to a large river. It was the perfect setting and time for me to be in this place.
I was beyond scared to drink this medicine again, but I knew it would provide the life guidance I wanted. Having taken ayahuasca in Peru, I felt confident and familiar with the effects; however, I didn’t expect the impact it would have on me this time.
Never miss an ExNotes blog:
Please click on the popup ads and visit the folks who advertise with us.
The Carrizozo Mudchuckers and I took a spin over to Jerome, Arizona last week. The trip was around 1200 miles all in and we ran late getting home, which meant I had to ride 100 miles in the dark. Normally I avoid night riding because most of my motorcycles have terrible headlights and my night vision was dim before I had both my cataracts replaced with new lenses. Plus, at night you can’t see anything except the road ahead. It’s pretty boring.
For the Jerome trip I was riding the Kawasaki ZRX1100; that bike has the best headlight out of every motorcycle I own. To my surprise the night ride was not as bad as I thought. I could see fairly well and made it home without running into an elk. Which got me thinking about the shorter days of fall and the fact that I sort of enjoyed that 100 miles of darkness. Could I improve on the acceptable Kawasaki headlight?
Enter the Oxilam LED H4 bulbs I purchased on sale from Amazon at $39, shipping included. They are a tad pricey but you do get two of them. Oxilam’s ad copy makes wild claims about 500% brighter and 10,000-hour life span. I can’t speak to the lifespan but the bulb sure doesn’t look 500% brighter.
The Oxilam came securely packaged in a nifty carton with a fitted foam insert. Included in the box was a pair of gloves so that you don’t get your greasy fingers all over your nice, new bulbs. It’s a beautiful product presentation and gives a real sense of value to the whole operation.
Installation was easy as pie: remove your old bulb and insert the new one. The dimensions of the Oxilam are nearly the same as a standard H4 bulb so you don’t have a big heat sink or cooling fan jutting out the back of your headlight housing.
The Oxilam has a tiny cooling fan built into the front of the bulb. That worries me a bit but I’m rolling the dice here. Some reviews of the Oxilams claim the fan to be noisy. I don’t see how such a tiny fan can make much noise and I can’t hear it.
I couldn’t find a watt rating anywhere except an ad copy line stating the bulb draws a similar amount of current as a standard H4 so computers will not act up thinking a bulb is out. Lumens are a claimed 18,000 so I guess that’s good.
Maybe not 500% brighter but the Oxilam LED bulb is noticeably brighter than the original 24 year-old halogen bulb it replaced. Low beam is a lot better with a sharp cutoff so you don’t blind oncoming cars. Low beam is wide and bright. The 6500 kelvin white light makes colors pop a bit more at night. Grass looks greener and the road edge is more obvious. The light produced is evenly distributed without any hot spots. It’s really wonderful. The Oxilam is worth it to me for the improved low beam performance.
High beam was also improved but not as dramatically as low beam. High beam seemed to reach a little farther out than stock and the white color was nice. One drawback to the increased lighting power was that reflective road signs were very bright on high beam, bright enough to cause me to drop back to low beam until the sign was passed. Installed in the ZRX lens there is an overly bright spot 10 feet ahead of the front wheel, I feel those lumens could be put to better use 100 feet down the road. I suspect the Oxilam will project differently depending on which headlight housing it is installed.
The Oxilam bulbs are worth the $39 to me. With my creaky vision I need every advantage I can get at night. It was actually not bad riding in the dark with the Oxilam and the new bulb will extend my riding time by a few hours each day. That’s got to be worth something, right?
So at 66½ years old my health is not what it used to be. I’ve sold all my “nice” bikes and now ride two scooters, a 1985 Honda CH150 Elite around town and I just bought a 2008 Suzuki Burgman 400 for distance travel.
I had a hip replacement 2 years ago. That’s working really good now. Bone spurs on lower back made it very painful swinging a leg over to get on and off a regular motorcycle, plus just riding on a bike all day was not fun anymore with the dagger like pain in my neck and back, which I’ve had for years. I could just roll with it in younger days. I can’t do that anymore. I’ve had immense fun going on motorcycle camping trips in the Pacific Northwest, Canada, Baja, several National Parks, and more places with the two Joes (Gresh and Berk). All great memories.
A few months ago, a friend had a scooter he wanted to sell. The price was something I couldn’t walk away from. My friend told me $100 and you can come get it. The short story was it was stolen years ago, recovered, and then sat outside for years. The people that stole it tried to paint it black over the nice original red color. Being left out in the weather resulted in a lot of rust, and it gummed up every control that needed to be able to move. Leafcutter bees made homes in every nook and cranny. Under the plastic I found hordes of dead bugs and cobwebs. The brakes were not working due to the bugs and water had entered the drums and rusted them.
I figured if I could get it running without too much effort it would be worth tackling the other issues. I took the carb apart and cleaned it by soaking it in ultra sonic cleaner, and I poked little wires through the jets that were plugged solid with old gas. I added a new air cleaner and battery. To my surprise, it started and idled okay. Then I replaced the old tires with new ones, oiled the cables, took the switches apart and blew out the dead critters, and lubed them. The fuel tank looked like it came off the Exxon Valdez. It was all rusty inside. So I rinsed it several times and got chunks of rust to come out as well as the gas that had turned to turpentine. Just to make sure, I installed two inline fuel filters on the gas line. I also added a new fuel vacuum petcock. Basically, I just gave it the tender loving care it needed from years of neglect. Five hundred bucks later, I rode it around and got all the lights working. I next took the constant velocity transmission apart and cleaned it, lubed it, installed a new belt, and Bob’s your Uncle. It’s a fun little scoot that gets up to 55 mph.
After riding the scooter around I noticed my back wasn’t hurting like it used to. I think the sitting position and not having to spread my legs apart like on a regular motorcycle relieved the pain. Or maybe it was the potholes my city is famous for pounding on my spine that did the trick. I’m hoping the the scooter will carry me into my goldener years and I can keep riding.
I’m now familiar with the term “Rat Rod.” I named my scooter “Tetanus Shot.” Every time I look at it, I feel like I need a tetanus shot. So does everyone else, especially the Harley guys I park next to at our coffee shop. I park next to them on purpose.
With the comfort and fun of riding Tetanus Shot around, I figured that if I could sell my 2009 BMW F650GS (a great bike) and my little Chinese 400 thumper road bike, I would have the money to buy a maxi scooter. After the customary searching and reading all about the big boy scooters, I decided that a Suzuki Burgman 400 would be a good long distance scooter. I found one an hour away with 5200 miles. It was a 2008. I rode it and thought it would do all this old geezer needed. $3600 later, I rode it home.
It didn’t take long to get familiar with the Suzuki’s handling and power, which surprised me when I left the seller’s gravel driveway and the rear end broke loose from too much throttle on the gravel lane.
Accessories I installed to make comfier included heated grips, a 3D-printed throttle lock, a rear trunk for added storage, a cell phone holder, a GPS mount, and handlebar shields to keep bugs and stones from hitting my hands and cold weather riding. I added wiring for my heated jacket, a wind screen extension, and a Roto-Pak mount on the trunk for extended gas range. I took the rider’s seat back rest and made it taller to support my back better.
A few weeks ago, I wanted to take one more 4-5 day trip before the weather turned wet and cold. I loaded clothes, tools, extra gas, and the various other assorted things I take on bike trips, and pointed the Burgy towards Seattle.
1250 miles later I can say I really enjoyed riding the big Suzuki scooter. I had no problem running 75 to 80mph on Interstate 5 through Seattle’s rush hour traffic. Vibration was very minimal. Wind protection was good. I noticed the large wind screen would really wobble at speed and when cross winds hit it. The seating position was very comfortable and I could move and stretch my legs more than on a motorcycle.
One thing not as good as my motorcycles was not being able to stand up while going down the road to stretch my legs and cool the nether regions when it was hot. I could do it, but it was a very different sensation than a motorcycle.
My back was pain free while riding all day. My back would hurt and remind me after I stopped, but it is what it is .
My Suzuki’s fuel consumption was 55-65 mpg, which surprised me because at 70 mph the engine was turning around 7000 rpm. The Burgy’s 3.4-gallon fuel tank provides a 150 to 180 mile range, which is just right for a needed rest. My 1-gallon Roto-Pak for extended range was emptied several times.
The route was Walla Walla to Yakima, over Snoqualmie Pass into Seattle. I rode up Interstate 5 to Burlington to visit my best customer. Then it was north to Bellingham to see the Grizzly Machine tool store. Then we turned down to Seattle. I spent a night with a friend. I rode down Interstate 5 to Kelso, crossed the Columbia River, I next headed west to Astoria, and then it was down Oregon 101 to Lincoln City for the night. The next day I rode down to Newport, east to Albany, Oregon, then up Interstate 5 to the Columbia River Gorge, where I spent the night in a motel in Cascade Locks, Washington. In the morning I ran east on Highway 14 to Mary Hill Stonehedge, then over to Goldendale for lunch, then east to Bickleton and the Tri-Cities, and then back home to Walla Walla. I enjoyed riding the Burgy. The scooter did everything I expected it to do. I’m hoping for many rides into the sunset on this scooter.
After being self-annoyed for 34+ years, I finally got my “walking papers.” I am shutting down my machine shop and plastic injection molding business. My best customer sent all the work I used to do for them to China and the shop I’ve rented since 1995 is up for sale, so I’m scooting on out of here.
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.
Never miss an ExNotes blog:
Please click on the popup ads and visit the folks who advertise with us.
Landing back in Boston mid-November, the only thing perfect was the weather. Perfect for hypothermia, that is. It didn’t take long in the cold and damp environment for me to realize that this would not be a suitable location for winter, especially after having been in tropical climates for the past 8 months. Although the decision to not stay was an easy one, where to actually move opened up an entirely new set of questions. This part of the journey I had not planned for very well, or at all. Well…time to pull out some maps and just as I had done in South America find a solution to the problem I now faced: Where would be my new home?
I wasn’t a big fan of the southeastern states and hadn’t really explored many of the western ones. Since the gray damp weather wasn’t something I wanted to deal with deciding to choose the Pacific Northwest probably wasn’t one of my better ideas, but I knew it wouldn’t be as cold in that area. I was still feeling the culture shock of returning to the United States and after living in South America, the busy stressful vibe of the United States wasn’t tolerable.
Having narrowed the region down, the next step was to pinpoint a spot. Looking at maps I noticed a rather large land mass not too far off of the coast of Seattle and Vancouver. It was Vancouver Island, and the capital of British Columbia, Victoria, was there. This seemed like a perfect place to call home until I could find a better location.
After a quick and uneventful drive cross country I was at the ferry terminal in Port Angeles, Washington, about to embark on another out-of-country adventure. As soon as the Blackball ferry pulled into Victoria Harbor I knew this would be a fun place. The Inner Harbour had a number of float planes landing and taking off, the Victoria Clipper (a high-speed catamaran) was there, and tugboat-like water taxis buzzed around the much larger Blackball ferry like mosquitos around an elephant. The entire inner harbor was just so alive.
Upon disembarking from the ferry there was a bit of a wait going through Canadian Customs where they scanned my passport and I confidently assured them I was visiting only for a week. In all honestly, I really didn’t have much of an idea about the length of my visit, as my planning (much like today) is almost nonexistent. The next step was to find a place to stay for a week or so until I could get my bearings and determine if I wanted to stay here longer. Having just driven over 3,000 miles I wasn’t in much of a rush to leave.
It didn’t take too long for me to find a cool hotel that allowed for longer stays near the center of town. The hotel was a great selling point, not only for the location, but also because it had what was probably the best Chinese restaurant ever. And if that wasn’t enough, there was the best dive bar attached to the hotel. Even with the rainy weather that lowered my morale, the restaurant and the bar gave refuge and let me refill my endorphins. This place would do nicely.
One of the best ways I’ve found to learn a new city is to go for long runs, get lost, and then learn the area. Frequently during these runs I would find someone running the same pace and strike up a conversation. This happened on one of my first days in Victoria. I kept pace with a man a few years older than me, and as our conversation continued I jokingly explained I was here working remotely, possibly quite illegally, and we both had a good laugh. Our finishing point was just after we crossed a bridge, when I introduced myself and he did the same. “Nice to meet you, Mike,” he said. “I’m Dean, the Mayor of Victoria, but you can call me Mayor Dean.” He handed me a business card and invited me to visit his office if I needed anything. My jaw was on the ground. I expected Canadian Mounties or Immigration to jump from around the corner. This, of course, didn’t happen (it was Canada and they are super-warm people, even to illegal visitors like me).
Despite the weather being a bit gray (which is to be expected in December in the Pacific Northwest), this island was a great choice. Within two weeks it was obvious this was to be my home at least through the winter months (unless Mayor Dean disapproved). It was time to find a longer-term rental on a month-to-month lease. A month-to-month lease was quite a commitment for me (even more so since I probably wasn’t allowed to be in Canada for more than 90 days per their immigration laws), but that would be a problem for future Mike to deal with (which he did successfully several times). It was now time to start exploring my new home and see what there was to offer this American traveler and digital nomad.
Never miss an ExNotes blog:
Help us bring more to you: Please click on the popup ads!
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.
It was to be a busy day in Thailand starting with a long ride south out of Bangkok to the famous floating market, an awesome shrimp lunch after that visit, then back to Bangkok, and then dinner at a fabulous Italian restaurant with a couple of good friends (I know people everywhere). Imagine that: Italian food in Bangkok (and it was good, too).
About the floating market near Bangkok: I’d first sort of heard of it way back in the early 1970s when I saw a James Bond movie and its chase scenes with those narrow Thai boats. The Bond flick was The Man With The Golden Gun (if you’re reading this blog, my guess is you’ve seen all the Bond movies). The movie showed the boats in Bangkok, not the floating market, but it planted a seed 50 years ago and I when I heard about the floating market on this visit, I wanted to see it. Here’s that scene I remembered showing James Bond doing his secret agent stuff (with an appearance by Sheriff J.W. Pepper, ably played by the late Clifton James) on Bangkok’s waterways:
The floating market is about 100 miles south of Bangkok. The concept is that there are shops on the canals in the delta where the Chao Phraya River meets the sea. The idea is you are on these long narrow boats and you float along, visiting shops. In some places the vendors paddle out to visit you. Every turn in the floating market was a photo op, and for me, the photo ops were the best part of our visit. I took close to 400 photos in the space of a couple of hours. All were with my D3300 Nikon and its 18-55mm kit lens. That combo is a stellar travel photography approach. The 18-55mm lens is not as sharp as a good prime lens, but it does a good job and it is versatile.
A typical scene in the floating market. It was very tranquil. In some places, it was also very crowded.A happy coconut vendor.Need a python? I have one. You can read about it here.One of the long boat captains.Imitation, the sincerest form of flattery. Here, this young lady is imitating me photographing her.Mango. It looked good.Some folks make amazing photo subjects.Some animals do, too. If you’re wondering what this guy is…it’s a pygmy slow loris, rare primates that live in bamboo forests in Southeast Asia. They look friendly.
On the way back to Bangkok, our driver took us to a nondescript restaurant that didn’t look like much from the outside, but our driver knew where the good spots were. We had shrimp fried rice for lunch, and it was delicious. The freshness, the aroma, the taste…it was marvelous. It was easily the best shrimp plate I’d ever had, and I’ve had some good ones. I’m not supposed to eat rice and I’m not supposed to eat shrimp, but I’m glad I broke the rules for this meal.
A hidden gem…a Thai shrimp plate. I knew when I was enjoying it I’d probably never find this restaurant again. Maybe that added to the experience.
We returned to downtown Bangkok and I wandered around grabbing a few more photos. I promised something related to motorcycles in every Bangkok blog. Promises made; promises kept:
The Bangkok Moto GP. It’s at the head of every traffic line at every traffic stop.
Our plans for that evening included having dinner with our good friends Kevin and Nan at Rosseno’s Italian Cucina. It was another five-star dining experience, a world-class Italian restaurant in the middle of downtown Bangkok. It was only a couple of blocks from our hotel, so Sue and I walked there.
Rosseno’s Italian Cucina. It was superb. I had lasagna.From left to right, it’s Nan, Kevin, Susie, and me.
During dinner, it started raining. After dinner it was pouring. It does that a lot in Bangkok. Kevin and Nan had arrived on one of Kevin’s motorcycles. I would have been concerned about the rain, but as folks who live in Bangkok, Kevin and Nan were not. To them it was no big deal.
Nan put on her rain gear (Kevin did not) and they rode off into Bangkok traffic.
Bangkok is one of the world’s great cities. It’s about the size of New York, and like most major cities in the world, it pretty much has everything you can imagine (including great Italian food).
Tomorrow’s adventure is going to be another Bangkok hidden treasure: The Jim Thompson house. Stay tuned. You’ll enjoy it.
Never miss an ExNotes blog:
Help us bring more to you: Please click on the popup ads!
I wasn’t a big fan of the southeastern states and hadn’t really explored many of the western ones. Since the gray damp weather wasn’t something I wanted to deal with deciding to choose the Pacific Northwest probably wasn’t one of my better ideas, but I knew it wouldn’t be as cold in that area. I was still feeling the culture shock of returning to the United States and after living in South America, the busy stressful vibe of the United States wasn’t tolerable.
