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"IN MEMORY OF MARY LOGSDON" - IN NOTE SECTION OF CHECK

JUNE 17, 2006 - ONCE UPON A TIME

I got rolling around 9:00 AM from the Sands. What a complete difference the Sands was from the M O T E L that I stayed in the previous night. I decided to take Route 9 out of town so that I wouldn't be slammed by tolls that New Jersey loves to hit drivers with. Well, it wasn't funny when I had to pay $1.50 to use the expressway OUT to Route 9. Cars were only charged 50 cents. I got hit because I had a trailer. New Jersey certainly is expensive for drivers. I was charged $8.50 to go 20 miles. That is as much as it costs to go across Pennsylvania and Ohio on the Turnpike. I had an uneventful trip down to the Cape May Ferry (see photos in separate entry) and was the last one on board. It is a very large Ferry that takes 75 minutes to traverse the 17 Miles across the bay to Delaware. It only costs $24.00 one way.

The weather was wonderful today. I was thinking about all those days of rain and am happy to report that most of my things are now dry. Just before I entered Maryland from Delaware, around lunch time, I could smell BBQ Chicken. In fact I could see the smoke from the BBQ. As I passed by, I could see that it was a fairly large cookout going on. The sign said "Kiwanis BBQ Chicken - $6.00", so I turned around, parked the bike, and grabbed a "platter to go". I found an empty chair at a table with two others at and asked if I could join them. They both accepted the proposition and I introduced myself and handed them a card, explaining why I was on the trip.

It was obvious that they were married and had been for a long time. I learned later that they had been together for 32 years. Based on hints in the conversation, I guessed that they were truck drivers. It seems they knew a lot about Kansas, California, Montana, Texas, and on and on. They were very informative and had some good points to make about certain aspects of moving the bike along the south border with Texas. Then, they started talking about living in Iraq for a year. You have to understand that they had charming southern accents, and were dressed in unassuming fashion. So, being curious, because there were questionable things about what they were saying that caused me to doubt the truck driver occupation. I asked them the obvious question. They sort of smiled at each other before they answered.

Well, we're UXO technicians. It seems that UXO technicians number under 500 in the world. This includes those in the military. This husband and wife team - and their daughter - work for a company that helps destroy UneXploded Ordinance. In other words, they destroy live ammunition, including bombs, rockets, bullets, mines, etc.etc.

That is when things got interesting. When I asked them their names, so that I could write this story - by far the most interesting one so far for me - I was told to just identify them as "Catfish" and "Goldfish". The daughter, who wasn't there, is known as "Little Fish". The fact that they are working in the United States had me concerned, and I expressed that concern. It turns out that tons and tons of munitions were buried or sunk at sea, after World War I and World War II. They are working in Delaware, because the Navy sunk "square miles" of stuff after both wars. When fishermen go digging for clams, they are apparently bringing up dangerous stuff along with the clams. The process also creates broken clam shells that for years have been used for driveways out here in the area. Catfish told me that they just dug up a WWI hand grenade buried in a guy's driveway just last week. They worked at other places in the US and overseas.

So how does one get into this line of work? It seems that Catfish was a Fire Chief. As part of his training, he went for explosives training. He got exposure to removing Beaver Dams, tree stumps, rocks, etc.  He mentioned to his wife, "Goldfish" that if he could make a living blowing stuff up, he'd be happy. In the back of the next issue of "Fire Chief", a small advertisement appeared that seemed to fit the bill. It turns out that Cat and Gold Fish are the first husband/wife team to ever be part of this very small industry.

And they are just very happy. They get to "Blow stuff up", all the time. They had some very interesting stories all told in the style of anyone who has been married for as long as they have. They could finish each other's thoughts and sentences. "Remember those Iraqi neighbors that got reported for shooting RPG's at each other?" "Yeah, the other neighbors were scared that they were going to blow up the wrong houses".

The largest cache of explosive stuff they detonated was a 440 ton batch over in Iraq. It seems they got in trouble for that one, because the shrapnel from that particular blast was still falling on their camp, a pretty fair distance away. This couple was so laid back and relaxed that I had a hard time understanding the magnitude of the job that they do. Cat, with a smile, said, "Hey, I get to blow stuff up, how good can it get?"

I have to say, that I agree. There is a school that teaches people how to do this safely, and after attending the school, they were hired by one of the very few companies that actually contract for Explosives Experts. They made sure that I understood that they don't disarm anything like that; they just get rid of it. …. Permanently.

I made my way through Delaware, and on into Maryland. I came across the Chesapeake Bay Bridge. I have new respect for engineering capabilities. This set of twin bridges is a monumental feat of design. I thought we, in Michigan, had the "Mighty Mac". I guess on the grand scale of things, it is no small matter, but the Chesapeake Bay Bridge is something else again. What an experience that was.

Back roads through Delaware and Maryland cut through farm land that for all practical purposes could have been in my home state of Ohio. The land is flat, here, and the farms look just like those of back home. I have to say that in moving through so many small towns as I have, I would have had a problem identifying the locations of these towns, were I to take photographs, and throw them into a pile. In a way, that is a good thing, but it also means that the geography of an area no longer seems to be as important to the "feel" of a place as it used to be.

Speech patterns are the best indicator of where in the country I am. Architecture seems to be more the same, regardless of where I am. There are some local differences, but not much. I stayed on secondary roads for as much of the 300 miles as I could, but got into major traffic as I hit Washington DC. While sitting at a red light, I noticed that an entire bridal party, parents, guests, and priest, were standing waiting for the light to change. The walk signal came on, and everyone began to trek across "I" Street. I couldn't help it, I started taking photos. See the other entry for this evening.

The GPS did a good job of getting me to Terri's house. After dinner of home made hamburgers, we took a spin on her electric pontoon boat. The lake she lives on is Barcroft Lake, which is actually INSIDE the Beltway. It is the only one in the Beltway. What a great place. It is very relaxing, here. Bailey, the Lab even accepts my presence. He's a good ol' boy.

It is time to relax, so I will close this submission for the night. No schedule for tomorrow. I have nowhere to be, nothing to do, except breathe and blink. Uh huh.