Swine-Avian-Human flu seems to be spreading rapidly

The flu reported in the last few days, seems to have spread across not only borders, but oceans.

The flu that has killed approximately 100 people in Mexico, and triggered the Mexican government to start shutting down events in Mexico City, has shown up in the southern United states, New Zeland, parts of Europe and possibly Asia.

Mexican swine flu spreads to Europe

Spain became the first country in Europe to confirm a case of swine flu when a man who returned from a trip to Mexico last week was found to have the virus.

But his condition, like that of 20 cases identified in the United States and six in Canada, was not serious. A New Zealand teacher and around a dozen students who recently returned from Mexico were also being treated as likely mild swine flu cases.

Cases of the flu, which has components of classic avian, human and swine flu viruses but has not actually been seen in pigs, were also suspected in Britain, France, Italy and Israel.

This paragraph from he Reuters article was really interesting. Thermal devices looking for people with fevers! The technology certainly exists, but this is the first time I’ve heard of such use. Interesting!

Many countries have stepped up surveillance at airports and ports, using thermal cameras and sensors to identify people with fever, and the World Health Organization has opened its 24-hour “war room” command center.

With proper treatment, it seems to be easily survivable (the 40 some-odd US cases have not reported any fatalities).

I’m still not sure what to make of this, and with travel to Spain planned for myself in two weeks, I’m wondering how wise it might be to continue with the trip, considering my personal risk to flu (due to medical issues of my own).  I’m considering requesting a prescription of TamaFlu from my doctor as a prophylactic action, if that is even possible.   But the one thing I’m going right now is increased my consumption of Vitamin-C from 1000mg to 4000mg a day.

More news on this will be breaking all day long.  Hopefuly it turns out to be equivelant to the big flue outbreak in 1976.

747 flying off-course in NYC caused building evac

What the FAA indicates was a photo-op fly-by, coordinated with state and federal authorities, a Boeing 747 escorted by two F-16 interceptors, was flown down over the Hudson river (same approach pattern used by the killers on 9/11).  The sight caused a couple of buildings near the World Trade Center crater, to be evacuated.

Image from http://nyulocal.com

Since it was coordinated, it seems it would have been nice of them to tell the people in the buildings not to panic!   Geez.  Nothing like needlessly scaring the crap out of people.

Some photos have been taken of this event by paniced citizens, I’ll post links as soon as I can find them (they are doing multiple passes of the jets so I’m sure plenty of photos will be posted soon).

UPDATED:  5-May-2009

Related links:

Looks like spring is finally here!!

It’s about time.  Sunny skies all weekend, temps broke into the 70’s (pretty good for us on most any day!).   For me, it was a weekend of busy work around the house, husting kids around too and fro….  but.. I did mange to squeeze in a nice ride before the weekend was out.  An BOY was it worth it!

Bremerton 7:00PM

Rolled out of the garage, topped off the tank (1.9 gallons of high-test) and pointed west.  At this time of year, the sun is starting to say up well into the evening, leaving decent enough light for riding, even with a motorcycle headlamp, until at least 9:00PM.  This left me 2 hours of fun.

About 1/3 of the way into my ride, I was pleased to discover that Bear Creak – Dewatto Road was once again open.  The storms of 2007/2008 knocked it out (along with a number of other roads), and it had been closed all summer.  It’s a fine little ribbon with little to no traffic.   It’s also provides some very nice views of the Olympic Mountains as you meander along the ridge, once you get there.

Looking West towards Olympic National Park
Looking West towards Olympic National Park

There are not many places along the road to stop, and some of the best vistas are simply too dangerous to stop and photograph (unless you like being run down by a random pickup truck).   I was able to stop and snap this photo at the intersection of Bear Creek and Tahuya-Blacksmith.

Olympics at sunset.
Olympics at sunset.

One last photo, from the same location.   That neat little ribbon of road, and at least to me, a bit of the isolating sense of being out in this part of the county.

27 miles West of town.
27 miles West of town.

It’s days like these that I’m happy to live out here, on the edge of the ‘civilization’ as some would call it.  Great pieces of road, hardly offended by slow movers or Sherriff’s sniping with RADAR for tickets.   Just a man, a machine and some free time.   This is one of those incredible joys that makes my life so special to me.

I can feel the darkness of winter finally melting away.

Why bikers wave

I do not know the origin of this missive, but it’s nice little read, about why motorcycle riders wave at each other.   I’ve always had my own reasons, and they happen to be in 100% alignment with this prose.

Thanks to ‘Shrek X’ on PNWRiders.com for posting this:

The bike’s passenger seat swept up just enough that I could see over my father’s shoulders. That seat was my throne. My dad and I travelled many backroads together…searching for the ones we had never found before. Travelling these roads just to see where they went. Never in a rush, just be home by supper.

I remember wandering down a backroad with my father, sitting on my throne watching the trees whiz by, feeling the rumble of our bike beneath us like a giant contented cat. A motorcycle came over a hill towards us and as it went by, my father threw up his clutch hand and gave a little wave. The other bike waved back with the same friendly swing of his left wrist.

I tapped my dad on the shoulder, which was our signal that I wanted to say something. He cocked his head back slightly while keeping his eyes ahead…

I yelled, “Did you know him?”

“What?”

“You waved at him…who was that?”

“I don’t know. Just another guy on a bike….so I waved.”

“How come?”

“You just do…it’s important.”

Later, when we had stopped for ice cream, I asked him why it was so important to wave to other bikers. My dad tried to explain how the wave demonstrated comradeship and a mutual understanding of what it was to enjoy riding a motorcycle. He looked for the words to describe how almost all bikers struggled with the same things like cold, rain, heat, wind, and drivers who didn’t see them, but how riding remained an almost pure pleasure.

I was young then and I am not sure that I really understood what he was trying to get across, but it was a beginning of something. Afterwards, I always waved along with my dad whenever we passed other bikes.

I remember one cold October morning when the clouds were heavy and dark, giving us another clue that winter was heading in from just over the horizon. My dad and I were warm inside our car as we headed to a friends house. Rounding a corner, we saw a motorcycle parked on the shoulder of the road. Past the bike, we saw the rider walking thru the ditch, scouring along thru the tall grass, crowned with a touch of frost. Dad pulled over and backed up to where the bike stood.

I asked Dad…”Who’s that?”

“Don’t know” he replied…”but he seems to have lost something. Maybe we can give him a hand.”

We left the car and wandered thru the tall grass ditch to the biker. He said that he had been pulling on his gloves as he rode, and that he had lost one. The three of us spent some time combing the ditch, but all we found were empty cans and bottles.

My dad then turned and headed back to the car and opened the trunk. He rummaged thru various tools, oil containers, and this and that until he found an old pair of crumpled up leather gloves. He continued looking until he found an old catalogue. I understood what he was doing with the gloves….but I had no idea what he needed with the catalogue.

“Here’s some gloves for you” my dad said as he handed them to the rider…”and I brought you a catalogue as well.”

“Thanks”..I really appreciate it.” He reached into his hip pocket and pulled out an old chain wallet.

“Lemme give you some money for the gloves” he said.

“No thanx” dad replied as he handed them to the rider. “They’re not worth anything and they’re old anyway”.

The biker smiled. “Thanx alot.”

He pulled the old gloves on and unzipped his jacket. I watched as my dad handed him the catalogue and the biker slipped it inside his coat. He jostled it around, positioning it up high, centered, and then zipped it up. I remembered now making sense of why my dad had given him the catalogue. It would keep him a bit warmer. After wishing the biker well, my dad and I left him warming up his bike.

Two weeks later, the biker came to our home and returned my father’s gloves. He had found the address on the catalogue. Neither my father nor the biker seemed to think that my dad stopping at the side of the road for a stranger and giving him a pair of gloves, and that the stranger making sure that the gloves were returned, were events out of the ordinary for people who rode motorcycles. For me, it was another subtle lesson.

It was spring of the next year when I was sitting high on my throne, watching the farm fields slip by when I saw two bikes coming towards us. As they rumbled past, my dad and I waved, but the other bikers kept their sunglasses locked straight ahead and did not acknowledge us. I remember thinking that they must have seen us because our waves were too obvious to miss. Why didn’t they wave back? I thought all bikers waved at one another…..

I tapped my dad on the shoulder and yelled…”How come they didn’t wave back?”

“Don’t know. Sometimes they don’t.”

I remember feeling very puzzled. Why wouldn’t someone wave back?

The next summer, I was finally old enough to learn to ride a motorcycle with a clutch. Many an afternoon were spent on a country lane beside our home, kicking and kicking to start my dad’s old 1955 BSA. When it would finally come to a sputtering start, my concentration would grow to a sharp focus, as I tried to let out the clutch slowly enough, and bring us to a smooth take off. More often than not, I would lurch forward…..and begin to attempt to kickstart the motor again.

Eventually, I got my own motorcycle license, and began wandering the backroads on my own. I found myself stopping along sideroads if I saw another biker alone, just to check and see if he needed help…….and I continued to wave at other riders.

But I remained focused as to why some riders never waved back. It left me with almost a feeling of rejection, as if I were reaching to shake someones hand, but they kept their arm hanging by their side.

I began to canvass my friends about waving. I talked with people at biker events, asking what they thought. Most of the old riders told me they waved to other bikers and often initiated the friendly air handshake as they passed one another.

I did meet some riders tho, who told me that they did not wave to other riders because they felt that they were different from other bikers. They felt that they were a “breed apart”. One guy told me in rather colorful language, that he did not “wave to no wussies”. He went on to say that his kind of bikers were tough, independent, and they did not require or want the help of anyone, whether they rode a bike or not.

I suspected that there were some people who bought a bike because they wanted to purchase an image of being tougher, more independent, a not-putting-up-with-anyone’s-crap kind of person, but I didn’t think that this was typical of most riders.

People buy bikes for different reasons. Some will be quick to tell you what make it is, how much they paid for it, or how fast it will go. Brand loyalty is going to be strong for some people whether they have a Harley, Ford, Sony, or whatever… Some people want to buy an image and try to purchase another person’s perception of them. But it can’t be done.

Still, there is a group of people who ride bikes who truly are a breed apart. They appreciate both the engineering and the artistry in the machines they ride. Their bikes become part of who they are and how they define themselves to themselves alone.
They don’t care what other people think. They don’t care if anyone knows how much they paid for their bike or how fast it goes. The bike means something to them that nothing else does. They ride for themselves and not for anyone else. They don’t care whether anyone knows they have a bike. They may not be able to find words to describe what it means to ride, but they still know. They may not be able to describe what it means to feel the smooth acceleration and the strength beneath them. But they understand.

These are the riders who park their bikes, begin to walk away and then stop. They turn and look back. They see something when they look at their bikes that you might not. Something more complex, something that is almost secret, sensed rather than known. They see their passion. They see a part of themselves.

These are the riders who understand why they wave to other motorcyclists. They savour the wave. It symbolizes connection between riders, and if they saw you and your bike on the side of the road, they would stop to help and might not ask your name. They understand what you are up against every time you take your bike on the road…..the drivers that don’t see you, the ones that cut you off or tailgate you, the potholes that lie in waiting. The rain. The cold.

I have been shivering and sweating on a bike for more than 40 years. Most of the riders that pass give me a supportive wave. I love it when I see a younger rider on a “crotch rocket” scream past me and wave. New riders carrying on the traditions.

I will continue in my attempts to get every biker just a little closer to one another with a simple wave. And if they do not wave back when I extend my hand into the breeze as I pass them, I will smile a little more. Maybe their just mistaken about who is a “breed apart.”

Congrats US NAVY – Rescue of Captain Phillips.

Congratulation to the US NAVY for the sucessful rescue of the hostage, Captain Phillips.  With 3 of the 4 pirates killed and the 4th in custody, it seems that it was a very successful operation.  News still seems to be streaming in and accounts vary slightly by source.

MSNBC – ‘Captain was in imminent danger’

MOMBASA, Kenya – U.S. Navy snipers opened fire and killed three pirates holding an American captain at gunpoint, delivering the skipper unharmed and ending a five-day high-seas hostage drama on Easter Sunday.

Reuters –  ‘U.S. NAVY rescues captain, kills Somali pirates.

MOGADISHU (Reuters) – The U.S. Navy shot dead three Somali pirates and rescued cargo ship captain Richard Phillips on Sunday from a lifeboat off the coast of Somalia where he was being held captive, ending a five-day standoff.

[…]

“The on-scene commander took it as the captain was in imminent danger and then made that decision (to kill the pirates) and he had the authorities to make that decision and he had seconds to make that decision.”

President Barack Obama granted the Pentagon’s request for standing authority to use appropriate force to save the life of the captain, Gortney said.

Washington Post — ‘U.S. Captain Rescued From Pirates by U.S. NAVY SEALs

Washington Post Foreign Service
Sunday, April 12, 2009; 6:39 PM

Mombasa, Kenya, April 12 — An American captain being held by Somali pirates was freed unharmed Sunday in an operation carried out by U.S. Navy SEALs, U.S. military officials said. Three of the pirates were killed and the fourth was captured.

The captain, Richard Phillips, who had been held in a lifeboat adrift in the Indian Ocean since Wednesday, was initially taken aboard the Norfolk, Va.-based guided missile destroyer USS Bainbridge. He was later flown to the USS Boxer, where he received medical attention and phoned his family. The operation took place at 7:19 p.m. local time, the Navy said.

Bottom line is that our new President exhibited some stones, ordered the rescue and let the NAVY do what it needed to do, to make that happen.   Credit is due to all in this situation, including the President.  Why it took 10 days to put the operation together, or for the order to be made, I have to wonder.  But, it’s still great news!

The first US flagged ship comendered in 200 years and it was quickly returend to crew control, the the pirated/terrorists where dispatched.  No money paid.  This is message to the rest of the panzy nations worldwide that help to make piracy a viable business model.   GET WITH THE PROGRAM!   KILL THEM, DON’T PAY THEM!

Ride to Dewatto.

It seems like forever since I had the Ducati out for a real ride. Sure, a few bike nights here an there since the last big ride to SportBike Northwest, but nothing that any truthful person could call a ‘ride’. Despite the forecast of rain, I just had to go out and ride today.

At 6:00PM, under moody skies and hardly anything resembling Spring weather, the Ducati fired up and was pointed West. It was not long until I had clear roads before me and I could ride at exactly the pace I desired. Only one pass was required all day long. After that quick dispatch I saw hardly a soul the entire evening.

Over the years riding in Kitsap, I’ve passed a wrecked building out by the little hamlet of Dewatto. Until today I’d only briefly passed it by, thinking some day I’ll scope it out as a possible spot for some on-location photography. Today seemed like a great day to do this.

The building is located on a salt water inlet named ‘The Hood Canal‘.  Technically the body of water is a fjord. In fact it was originally named “Hood’s Channel” but Vancouver (whom named it) marked it as “Hood’s Canal” on his charts in the late 1700’s.  In 1932 the US Geological Board offically name it “Hood Canal“. 799px-hood_canal_07771

The area itself is approximately 2/3 of the way south along the Eastern short of the canal, located near the headwater of the Dewatto River.

Photo from Washington D.N.R.
Photo from Washington D.N.R.

Years ago the building itself was in far better condition.  Looking around it was clear that it’s used as a party spot for people.  There is evidence of make-shift fire pits, beer bottles and other trash litter the interior of the building.

ride_1232

The view from inside building is quite striking on a clear day.  Sadly today was not clear.   Behind the coulds seen in this photo, is the snow covered mountain range of the Olympic National Park.  With this year’s long winter the snow pack is quite deep and low along the sides of these rugged mountains.

ride_1241

It was good to get out on the road, blow the cobwebs out of my riding skills and enjoy some of the best local riding I’ve ever lived near.

2 hours and 70 miles later I rolled into home with a smile on my face and the feeling of a little rejuvination after what seems like the longest winter I’ve every experience in the short 44 years I’d inhabited this world.

Murder of a hero’s dog.

9 days after it happened, the mainstream-media are finally picking up this story.

Marcus Luttrell (American hero and former Navy Seal), is awakened at 1:00AM when a group of young men murdered his recovery dog, with a single gunshot.  The thought of what those wastes of skin did to this hero is nauseating.

They recently released the 911 tapes (I’m looking for the links) of his chase of these people.  It turns out these dirtbags had been murdering dogs for quite some time in the area, and that night they made the mistake of kill this man’s dog.

After the punks where captured, one of them had that audacity to mouth off to Marcus about ‘coming back to get him’. The restraint Mr. Luttrell exhibited upon confronting the punks is, amazing.

Additional Links:
Dallas News

Real Police

A parent’s terror – attempted kidnapping at Pike Place Market

Monday morning, a visit to the Pike Place Market was one of many highlights for visiting family from California.  My sister and her two girls joined myself and my two kids, along with our mother for a tour of Seattle.    One of the places we spent quite some time, was at the Pike Place Fish Market (home of the flying fish) watching salmon, crabs and carp being tossed back and forth for packing.

We arrived at the market at 10:00AM. While trying to purchase a parking sticker, a fight broke out less than 20′ feet away between two homeless people. Both of which seemed less than mentally efficient. When one of them started reaching into their jacket I shuttled the rest of the family up the hill, while I looked for a parking sticker dispenser in another location. This is the first time in years that I wish I’d had my firearm on myself.

Being ‘early‘ for the hippy-type vendors, most of the outdoor vendors were still arriving, and the market was not overtly busy, but still more crowded than I’m used, after spending 8 years living on the penninsula.   My son, age 6, is a pretty energetic and very independent, so he likes to try to go and check things out on his own.  It’s a full-time job keeping tabs on him, especially in crowds.

If I had known that right at the same time we were at the Fish market counter, with our 4 kids, I would have left immediately.   Another family from California, almost lost a child to a kidnapper at exactly the same time.  The child was only 1 year younger than my own!    I’m so glad this was did not happen to us, and thankful the pervert did not make it all the way to the bathroom with the boy before being foiled by the mother.

Just after 11 a.m., the boy’s mother stopped to remove a small rock that had become lodged in a cast on her foot, according to Seattle police. Her husband turned to help her and when they looked up, the couple discovered the youngest of their three children was no longer with them.

The family searched for the boy in the crowded market. The mother spotted her child being led away by a man, about 40 feet from where she was, police said. She called to her son and ran to him, with her husband and two other children, ages 6 and 7, close behind.

After watching a follow-up news cast this morning, I recalled that we actually encountered this individual while the Seattle Police where arresting them. It seemed odd at the time that there were so many Seattle PD at the market to handle this old man. Bicycle cops, patrol units and some sort of special ‘NCI TEAM’ members. He was in handcuffs and I thought little more of it at the time.

I’ll have to talk to my son today about this and try to make it clear why he just can’t take off without supervision, especially in crowds. He’s 6 and thinks he knows everything. Being a parent is by far the hardest job I’ve ever had.