Scuba: Part 2

By Mike Huber

It was 0700 and the location was a pier in Cairns Australia as 30 of us were boarding a live-aboard boat to perform 9 scuba dives over the next 3 days and 2 nights. There were only 3 of us that had never performed an open water scuba dive before, and I was one of them. It would take 5 dives while completing our drills for us to obtain our PADI open water certification.  We were ready.

It took the boat about 3 hours to get out to the reef for our first dive. 27 of the others were seasoned divers, so as the newbies we felt privileged they’d help us gear up and make jokes about our fumbling around prior to getting into the water.

Others may disagree with me and that is fine, but I have sky dived and to me, nothing felt closer to jumping out of an airplane as a paratrooper than scuba diving.  You suit up, perform checks on your gear and your scuba buddy’s gear, shuffle to the edge of the boat, give an OK to the dive master who checks your air is on (I always stuck my hand out and yelled “ALL OK JUMPMASTER!” just to get into the moment a bit more), and jump off the boat into the water. I understand the two experiences are almost polar opposites, but what isn’t is the comradery and the procedures prior to diving (or jumping out of an airplane).

As soon as I hit the ocean waters of the Great Barrier Reef in full scuba gear I felt two things: A brief moment of anxiety, just as I felt in the pool during onshore training, and when we signaled to go down.  This was a moment of bliss and freedom as you leave the world you know and enter a realm of tranquility beneath the ocean.  It was so similar to exiting an aircraft as you leave the chaos and perform the 4-second count prior to your parachute opening.  Both are moments when you have a quick chat with the big guy upstairs and are alone in the world.  There are few experiences in life that compare to these.  I was instantly hooked on scuba diving.

Our first five dives were work.  They encompassed the same drills over and over that we performed in the pool.  The objective was to review the same emergency procedures for a multitude of issues that you can face while underwater, and how to calmly overcome them.  This was another similarity to being a paratrooper.  The only big difference is there was less yelling for your mistakes, but the instructor did have a whiteboard to correct any errors you were making while on the dive.  Another reason I knew my instructor was great was when she wrote my mistakes on her whiteboard for, I literally could hear her stern voice in my head just as clear and loud as if we were above water.

Upon all three of us successfully meeting the criteria we were now PADI Certified Open Water Scuba Divers.  Now it was time to begin having fun and enjoying the benefits of diving.  We were on The Great Barrier Reef after all and the coral and wildlife we saw over the next 3 days was magical.  We were literally in God’s aquarium.  Each of the dive sites we experienced had something unique to offer, from schools of colorful fish, to sea turtles, to even a couple nurse and reef sharks.  If I wasn’t hooked before on this new hobby, I surely was now.

The remainder of the days were passed with dives, delicious food, and wonderful new friends.  The beauty of this live aboard boat were absolutely the people I was surrounded by.  We each had different experience levels in diving, and were from countries all around the World, yet we all bonded over this one passion, scuba diving. Once the evening festivities died down instead of returning to the tight quarters below deck a few of us decided to sleep on the open upper deck of the vessel.  This was the perfect way to wind down.  We would tell a few jokes while staring at the Southern Cross as it slowly made its way across the sky until we fell asleep, and in the morning awaking to the sunrise hitting this spectacular part of the World and lighting up the Australian Flag as the sun rose.  A feeling of accomplishment washed across me each day and evening of this trip.  It may have been the most rewarding time along my travels to this day, and for good reason. I had found a new way to add even further adventure to my travels.


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Scuba: Part 1

By Mike Huber

As I had begun to enter my 5th month of travel, not knowing where I would be sleeping the next night became routine.  My mentality was “Future Mike will figure this one out, he always does.” And I always did.  That mindset isn’t wrong, as crazy as it felt. However, as time pushed on and the countries began to be more in my rearview mirror something was missing.  A way to deeply experience a country, more than most experience it.  Similar to my past life with living off the BMW GS1200.  The bike added a much-needed color to my adventures whereas most were just doing these adventures in a van or car.  The BMW gave me that extra level of depth that awakened my senses and really allowed me to meet some wonderful people I wouldn’t have otherwise.

Realizing I needed to experience something new (besides circling the globe solo).  I needed something thrilling but something I had never done.  I was two months into driving through Australia and about to board a flight from Sydney to Cairns.  When I asked others in my hostel what was worth doing up there, one reply was always consistent:  Scuba dive the Great Barrier Reef.  That was it! I would become a certified scuba diver and head for the Great Barrier Reef.

I registered for the dates I would be in Northern Australia for a 5-day Open Water PADI Scuba Certification Class. This class would include two days of classroom/pool training and three days and two nights on a live-aboard boat in the Great Barrier Reef. Upon filling out the school course paperwork it seems that due to my ripe old age of 51 I would require a physical.  Not a big deal; there was a clinic across the street from my hostel. I am sure they would rubber stamp me through this, so I booked an appointment.  Upon being called into see the doctor I noticed his clothing apparel seemed a bit…off. It wasn’t until I went into his exam room I noticed posters of Elvis all over the walls.  Now his butterfly collar, gold glasses, slicked back hair made sense. He was an Elvis impersonator, or a big fan at the least.  Once reviewing the physical requirements with him he explained the physical entailed much more than I expected, including chest x-rays, hearing tests, vision test, drug test, etc.

So I am not saying I cheated on this physical, nor am I disclosing if I did cheat how I would complete such an act. What I am saying is I passed the physical with flying colors. Sweet. I sent the paperwork off to the diving school and was formally accepted into the program.  I was still smiling as I boarded my flight from Sydney to Cairns in Australia (which was one of the northern-most points of this mind-blowing continent).

Arriving on time to class (15 minutes prior to its scheduled start) I learned the class would be small.  Myself, a young man from France and an American female from San Diego. Our instructor was from Pittsburgh.  Normally I would hold that against her, but she was beyond stunning so it was easy to let that go as we began our class instruction on the equipment and different emergency protocols, hand signals, and a tutorial of almost any underwater emergency we could possibly encounter.  This was the first half of the day and post lunch it was time to put these lessons to use, using our scuba gear in an enclosed 12-foot deep pool.

The first thing in the pool we performed even before learning about our gear was a swim test. This consisted of treading water for 10 minutes in place and a 300-meter swim.  Upon successfully passing this, it was time to learn about all our gear.  This included the air tank, BCD, respirator, fins, mask and snorkel, and how to successfully connect it all together.

It was now time to put on the scuba gear and go underwater in the pool for the first time.  I will admit this caused a bit of anxiety for the first few minutes, even though we were just a few feet under.  It was a new experience for me and the others, so that was normal.  In no time we were nailing the different drills, such as mask removal and replacement while underwater, and buoyancy control. We also performed drills in the event we ran out of air and how to signal and use your buddy’s secondary air supply (I of course made sure I was paired with the instructor). Little did I know at the time, but paying attention to this lesson would prove to be lifesaving in just a few weeks in Indonesia.

Upon successfully completing the classroom, pool sessions, and passing a written exam, we were ready to take our skills into the ocean.  The next day we were scheduled to meet at 0700 at the boat launch where we would be on a live-aboard boat for the next three days.  The remainder of our training and honing our skills would be performed in the open waters of The Great Barrier Reef in Australia. This is where we hopefully would pass and become Open Water Certified Divers.  Bad ass!


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Adventure Towards Ayers Rock

By Mike Huber

Ayers Rock was my destination.  This is not an easy destination to reach, especially by car.  It takes dedication, time, and patience. Many people fly to this location and use tourist busses to get around in the park, snap a few photos, and leave.  Not me.  It is cliché, but I feel the journey is more important than the destination.  What you see, hear, and feel along the way allows you to appreciate the destination when you do finally reach it.  This two-week drive to Ayers Rock was one that elevates that cliché phrase to a level I never thought possible.

My original plan was to circle the entire continent of Australia in a month. That was NOT happening so Ayers Rock (Uluru) was a solid turnaround point.  Mind you to even complete this took me one month. The isolation was beyond what I had expected.  I knew going into this that isolation would be the greatest challenge, but what I didn’t grasp was how far I would be pushed mentally during this journey.

To add to the trip, one of my best friends and a fellow paratrooper had been diagnosed with cancer a few years back and I knew his time was coming.  Our texts and calls were becoming more and more infrequent. Fortunately, I am very close with one of his sisters.  When I don’t hear from him within a week I reach out to her to obtain a status.  During one of the most desolate spots on earth I received a text from her to inform me of his passing.

You don’t understand isolation until you receive a text like that in spotty cell phone coverage.  There was no way of replying or reaching out to console and provide support to his loved ones.  This left a more than significant gap in my mind with no way of processing it since I was in the middle of the Outback.  There is no one to rely on for comfort or a crutch to get you by.  There is nothing.  Just nothing. The only consolation I found was hours of alone time to think and process it while focusing on how fortunate I was to have such a close friend, all the while driving for hundreds of miles with, again…nothing.  A few dead kangaroos on the side of the highway with an occasional eagle or dingo chomping on them was the only life I saw through this portion of the drive.

Upon arriving at Uluru I set up camp, which only entailed pulling into a parking spot as I was car camping.  This has been a solid pro to car camping, just minimal to no preparation setting up or pulling down camp. After cooking a quick meal in my “campsite” I thought I had enough in me to drive around Ayers Rock for sunset.

Upon entering the park and seeing Ayers for the first time my eyes welled up.  I am not sure if it was due to this area being such a spiritual place for the Aboriginals or that the drive to reach it was so emotional.  It really doesn’t matter.  To finally lay eyes on this magnificent rock glowing in the golden hour of sunset was a moment that will resonate with me forever.  I was fully present in the moment and felt a sense of calmness.

After a semi-solid night’s sleep in the car, it was time to do a 3-hour hike around the rock and really get to experience this monument of the ancients up close and personal.  Since I had been car camping in some warm climates I purchased some mesh window covers to allow the windows to remain down in the evening without having any bugs, flies, snakes, kangaroos, or dingos enter the vehicle while I was sleeping.  This purchase turned out to be one of my better decisions along this drive.  Uluru is plagued with flies. An unimaginable amount of them.  Starting the hike early in the morning was key to avoid them and as the sun rose over this great rock having the car mesh as a makeshift fly screen for myself on the hike was a lifesaver.

Traveling alone through Australia is an experience that forced me to look at life from a unique perspective that many will never understand or even imagine existed. The month was filled daily with two constants: Change, and being challenged to adapt to the environments. By environments I mean both from the outside world and from the world within me.  Both were deeply felt throughout my long journey to Ayers Rock.


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Adventure Toward Ayers Rock Part II: The Great Ocean Road

By Mike Huber

I will start this story with the disclaimer that my lack of planning and just going with the flow of Australia allowed for this adventure to even happen. I originally thought that I would easily be able to circumcise (I think that’s the right word) the Australian continent in a month.  Not a big deal.  Yeah, some long days, but doable.  Well, if you go back to Part I of this story, you will realize I got hit by a brick daily on that theory.  Either way I had a rental car for a month and would see what adventures I could experience using a list two close friends had provided as a high-level blueprint.

After a couple days exploring Sydney, it was time to pick up my rental car, hit the open road, and embrace what would come while in Australia.

One of the first locations where I was able to slow down and take some time to embrace my surroundings was The Great Ocean Road.  Having ridden some pretty incredible roads throughout the planet, for me to say much about any road is a rarity.  Well, this is one that I was kicking myself for being in a rental car (and not on a motorcycle).   I encountered a group of Japanese tourists, and one was a student at Boston University.  I was wearing my Boston University shirt, so we posed for a photo.

The Great Ocean Road begins just west of Melbourne and extends to Port Fairy.  It is 146 miles long.  The road is paradise for anyone who has ever ridden a motorcycle. The entire length skirts the coast of the Southern Ocean from cliffs high above.  “Breathtaking” doesn’t begin to touch how this feels, as every corner provides a new panoramic view of rock formations and ocean as bright green as you can imagine.

Occasionally the road cuts inland through thick rain forest. There are plenty of short hikes gushing waterfall views along these parts.  If you look closely you will likely find a koala bear lazily eating eucalyptus leaves in a tree high above.  Wallabies dance around your car, curiously peering in to see if anything is worth a closer inspection for something to fill their bellies.

Another beautiful feature of this paved paradise is the lack of people along the way.  Several campsites I visited had no one in them. I am certain it helped that it was offseason (that and my ability to find off-the-beaten-path locations).  It wasn’t odd for me to have miles of beach to myself while enjoying a cold VB Bitter beer.  I could stare along the endless coastline while listening to the waves crashing, with my surroundings devoid of any other creature (with the occasional exception of a kangaroo hopping by).

Upon driving along the Great Ocean Road my mind was in the right place.  I was filled with peace through the solitude I enjoyed from star-filled nights.  I felt as though my mental clarity was honed, and I was prepared for the next part of my journey (that being the vastness of the Outback of Australia).  On many levels, this would prove to be more challenging than I had imagined as I continued the long journey to my destination of Uluru, Ayer’s Rock.


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Memorial Day

By Mike Huber

Not being in the United States for Memorial Day and seeing our flag lining every Main Street throughout our country is one of those times I miss being home.  Having served as a soldier in the United States Army I have endless respect for those that lost their lives in defense of this great nation.  I now am learning how to respect it even more so from a global level.

This year on April 25th my travels afforded me the opportunity to celebrate a Memorial Day for two of our allies, New Zealand and Australia.  While on a guided tour through Frazer Island, a remote sand island off the northeastern coast of Australia, our tour was delayed an hour at the ship wreck of the TSS Meheno HMNZ Hospital Ship 1. The Meheno was a critical resource in WW I in retrieving the wounded from Anzac Cove in Gallipoli for both New Zealand and Australia.  When I asked why the tour was delayed the guide explained, “Today is Anzac Day,” and went into the meaning of this holiday.

Anzac Day is a combination of Veteran’s Day and Memorial Day for both Australia and New Zealand.  Well, once I learned this I left the tour group and made my way into the heart of the ceremony before it began.  I knew I was with my people here at this ceremony.  I am not quite sure how I knew, but I just knew.  It didn’t take me long to be welcomed by the Australian Army Veterans partaking in the ceremony. They eagerly invited me to stand with them front and center to pay respects to their fallen and veterans.  As many people know I only own two shirts, an 82nd Airborne Division shirt and a Boston University shirt.  This day I was lucky enough to have worn the 82nd shirt and it didn’t go unnoticed by the Australian Army veterans.  As the ceremony concluded, one of the veterans pulled me aside, thanked me and handed me an Anzac Day pin. I don’t travel with much, but that pin is now part of my sensitive items list.

I was beyond humbled to be standing there, shoulder to shoulder with our allies as they laid wreaths, gave speeches, and played both the Australian and New Zealand national anthems.  On more than one occasion I teared up, and for good reason.  These servicemen and women easily could have been backing any of our 6’s as Americans.  The ceremony resonated deeply within me in realizing that Memorial Day is much more far reaching than just our shores in the United States.

In the following month, I went further with what I took away from that Anzac Day Ceremony by taking the time to visit the Australian War Memorial in Canberra.  This museum was as moving as any of ours would be in the United States.  They have etched in the walls the names of each of their fallen from every campaign they participated in.  This includes The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier for Australia and an eternal flame.

I will forever remember my Anzac Day experience and although this day is for our American fallen, it is important to know that these ceremonies go on for all our allies across the world.  Please remember the reason for this holiday over the weekend and take the time to pay respects to our heroes of this great Country. God bless America, and God bless our Allies.


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Adventure Toward Ayers Rock

By Mike Huber

At the time of this writing I am sitting in my hotel room, which happens to be in an underground cave in the tiny opal mining town of Coober Pedy.  Normally this would sound crazy, but 50% of the residents in this town live underground so it’s perfectly normal to be living as someone on the desert planet of Tatoonie would live.  It is deep in the Australian Outback hundreds of miles from nothing. How I even ended up in this town is something I am still piecing together, but alas, here I am typing this up as an aboriginal drum beats from the distant hills and echoes into my cave dwelling.

I apologize for being on a brief writing hiatus. My travel schedule has been beyond nonstop (even for me). I have only had two days off since leaving New Zealand in early April.  In doing so there were multiple countries I toyed with visiting.  Australia was one that kept being recommended, but I didn’t really feel the calling for it. So was hesitant when I booked a one-way ticket to Sydney and was expecting a short stay to just check the box. Well, life had other plans for me as I am currently six weeks into this giant country with no end in sight.

When I say no end in sight, I literally mean no end in sight.  Having motorcycled much of the Southwestern United States over the past six years I think I have a pretty solid grasp on distances and expansiveness with large pockets of isolation and nothingness.  I knew what large areas were and how to negotiate them, even on two wheels.  I couldn’t have been more ignorant of what expansiveness really is.

Expansiveness is driving 100+ miles and not seeing another car and only a random oncoming truck towing three or four trailers that when it passes you throws your tiny rental off the road due to the wind gust.  Expansiveness is slowing down to some type of an unknown road hazard in front of you only to realize it’s an emu that decides to attack your car so you must quickly swerve and speed up.  Expansiveness is clicking search on both AM and FM radio stations only to have it indefinitely spin without a station to be found for hours.  Expansiveness is Australia.

Australia is my home for the time being and I am trying everything possible to do more than just scratch the surface of this foreign and incredibly large part of the world. With every type of climate you can imagine and wildlife that is other worldly, cute, dangerous, and some a combination of the three.  This article series will take you through my journey of Australia as I make my way towards Ayers Rock (Uluru) in the great Australian Outback.


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Tested to Destruction: Rossi Boots

We’re starting a new feature here on ExhaustNotes.us called Tested To Destruction. TTD will be a life-cycle product test from purchase to the dumpster. You’ll not find so complete a product test anywhere else on the Internet, go ahead and look around. Due to the long test periods involved some of the products may be discontinued and no longer available. There’s not a lot we can do about that. One other note: By definition we are testing to destruction so all products will fail in the end. It happens to the best. Nothing lasts forever.

I first became aware of Rossi boots in Australia. Nearly every tradesman wore the things and the ones I spoke to raved about the classic, made in Australia boot. I was on extended leave in the outback and needed a tough boot for hiking and camping so I bought a pair of Rossi Enduras. The Rossies aren’t cheap (like me) but I splurged and who doesn’t love having boots named after the greatest modern-era motorcycle road racer?

The Rossies were comfortable from Day One. No blisters or slipping, soft and flexible with pull tabs and elastic sides to make installation a breeze. No wonder the Tradies wore them. That first pair lasted through Australia and back in the States through several boat rewires.

In my real job I worked in very oily conditions. The bilge of a commercial fishing boat is full of slimy gunk. Unlike every other boot or canvas shoe I have purchased, the Rossi soles stayed firmly attached to the uppers. The Rossies easily outlasted four pairs of regular boots.

One thing that disintegrates after a couple years is the rubber liner inside the bottom of the boot. This liner is supremely comfortable when new and I guess you can replace it with another liner. This has happened with both pairs I’ve owned. When mine fell apart I pulled out the pieces and kept on pouring concrete. The boot is still comfy without the liner, just less so.

The boots in the photo are my second pair of Rossies and they have gone through the wringer on countless construction jobs. Imagine: 2 pairs of boots for over 5 years of hard use. I used to go through work boots every 6 to 9 months. My second pair, like the first, never came apart and I’m retiring them only because they look so bad people keep offering me money for a cup of coffee.

I wear these boots when riding motorcycles, dirt or street. The comfort is great and being able to easily slip them off on hot rides is so nice. I know slip-on boots may fly loose in a crash situation so save your breath: I make my gear choices for me. You make your gear choices for you. Anyway, Flat Earthers and Vaccine Deniers tell me it’s safer to be thrown clear of the boot in an accident.

You can buy Rossi boots online but make sure to get the ones made in Adelaide, Australia. They’re not very stylish and you can expect to pay a lot but it’s like you’re getting four pairs of boots for the price of one. There are several boots that look the same as Rossies but are lower quality. Shop wisely.

Back in the USA

Another day, another 14-hour flight, and another week, another time zone reversal.  I love traveling to Asia; I don’t relish the thought of taking a month to get back on US time.   That’s what happens every time I travel to Asia.  When I visit China, Singapore, Thailand, or any of the places I go to in Asia, I get adjusted to Asia time in one day.  Then it takes a month when I get home to adjust to US time.  It doesn’t matter if I’m in Asia for 2 days, 40 days, or 13 months (I’ve done all three); it always takes forever to get back on our time.   I don’t think it has anything to do with direction; it has everything to do with what’s home.  My Asian friends tell me they experience the same thing…when they come to America, they’re on our time in a day or two, and then it takes them weeks to get back on their home time once they’ve returned.

This adventure was two weeks for Susie and me.  It started with 4 days in Singapore, where I taught a class to folks working in the Singaporean defense industry.  I get invited to Singapore to do that a couple of times a year; the topic this time was Failure Mode and Effects Analysis.

Singapore defense industry engineers in an FMEA course. Good times!

It’s a 17-hour flight from Los Angeles to Singapore.   You’d be surprised; it goes by quickly.  The courses are fun to do, we always do them in 5-star hotels, and Singapore is a good place to have a good time.   I watched Crazy Rich Asians on the way over during that 17-hour flight (it’s the first time I’d ever seen the movie).  I was surprised at how many of the Singapore locations I recognized in the film.  I like Singapore.

Next, it was a 5-hour flight to Perth, Australia.   You’ve read the blogs about it and the reason we went (Susie met her pen pal Adrienne for the first time).  We had a hoot.   Gresh and Baja John both told me Australia was a lot like the US, and they were right.  Still, they do have a few things we don’t…

Freemantle Prison in Western Australia.   It’s a tourist attraction today.  Back in the day, it was where the UK sent its convicts.
Pouring a gold bar in the Perth Mint. The Nikon showing off its low light level abilities here, in this case at ISO 2000.
G’day, Mate…a python in a Western Australia wildlife preserve…more low-light-level Nikon chicanery.
Tie me kangaroo down, Mate. At one of the restaurants in Sydney, I could have ordered a kangaroo burger, but I took a pass.
Kookaburra, sitting in an old gum tree. We finally met. He wasn’t laughing.

The morning we left Perth, there was a big hub-bub going on outside our hotel as we got into our Uber car, and to my astonishment, the fellow getting into the car in front of us was Scott Morrison, Australia’s Prime Minister.  He had been staying in our hotel.  There were a few security folks around him, but nothing like you’d see in the US.  He looked right at Sue and me from just a few feet away as he passed.   Nope, I didn’t get a photo.  Maybe right now he’s telling people he met one of the two guys running the ExNotes blog.  His friends are probably telling him it didn’t happen if he didn’t get a photo.

From there it was on to Sydney (a 4-hour flight), and we had another fabulous visit.  We didn’t know anybody there yet, but we made new friends and we had a great time walking around in one of the world’s great cities.   Sydney is a beautiful city and it should be on your list of places to visit.

An iconic Sydney photo…the Sydney Opera House.
I spotted this scooter, a new Lambretta, in downtown Sydney and I struck up a conversation with Barry, the guy you see here. This modern Lambretta is manufactured in Taiwan. Now I know two guys named Barry who ride Lambrettas.  You see bikes and scooters in Australia at about the same frequency as you do in the US.
Our new friend Colin in Sydney’s Rocks shopping area.

And there you have it.  It was another 14-hour flight to get from Sydney to Los Angeles and we landed at about 6:00 a.m. today.  It’s good to be home again.