Road King Blog

On August 19th, 2009, 4 members of the Army’s elite 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment lost their lives in a training accident in Colorado.  The family of SSgt Tucker invited the Patriot Guard Riders to attend the service and honor SSgt. Tucker.  We were privileged to be able to do so.

Some background on the 106th SOAR is probably beneficial here.  From the USASOC website:

The 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment’s mission is to organize, equip, train, resource and employ Army special operations aviation forces worldwide in support of contingency missions and warfighting commanders. Known as Night Stalkers, these Soldiers are recognized for their proficiency in nighttime operations. They are highly trained and ready to accomplish the very toughest missions in all environments, anywhere in the world, day or night, with unparalleled precision. They employ highly modified Chinook, Black Hawk and assault and attack configurations of Little Bird helicopters.

Soldiers of the 160th have been actively and continuously engaged in the combat operations since October 2001. Today, the 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment continues a sustained and active forward presence in the U.S. Central Command area of operations at multiple locations in support of operations Enduring and Iraqi freedom, in Afghanistan and Iraq respectively. Our crews also provide support to U.S. Southern and Pacific command.

These skilled aviators don’t push the limits of the envelope - they define the envelope. It was an honor to be invited to attend the service and pay our respects.

As is so often the case, a group of us from the area met up to ride to the church together.  Lisa and I met up with the group at a gas station on route 46 and rode east toward the shore and then down US 1 to Titusville.  Along the way, we passed over the wide, marshy bed of the St. John’s river and rolled by a large alligator sunning himself on the shoulder of the road.  In short order, we arrived in Titusville.

One thing that made a large impression on me was the dedication shown by SSGt. Tucker’s fellow soldiers from the 160th, who were acting as the honor guard and pallbearers for the funeral.  I got the impression this is not a duty they normally perform, but that the bond they shared compelled them to handle this final task for their fallen brother.  While we were getting organized and waiting for the family to arrive, the soldiers were practicing the drill for their duties during the funeral over and over again.  It was hard to watch, because you could feel the pain under their professional pride, and see the drive to make sure they performed their tasks to perfection because nothing less would do.

As the family arrived, we set the flag line and stood in silent respect as the honor guard performed the drill one final time, removing SSGt Tucker’s casket from the caisson and bearing it into the church with precision and reverence.  In due course, the service ended.  As is often the case, we sent several bikes ahead to the cemetery to set up a flagline there to receive the soldier and his family.  Lisa and I volunteered to go with the advance group, and we soon set off on the short trip to the cemetery.

At the cemetery, another group of soldiers from the 160th were rehearsing for their role in the internment service.  They displayed the same fierce dedication to making certain that they performed their duties flawlessly in final service to their fallen brother.  Once again, it was very humbling to watch.  And very inspiring.  These young men and women in our armed forces possess a quality of character all too seldom seen today.

During the internment service, a police helicopter overflew the grave site in tribute.  This was an emotional service, and I know that several of us - myself definitely included - got more than a bit of blurry vision from the tears that gathered but never quite fell.

After the conclusion of the service, each and every one of the soldiers from the 160th SOAR came over and personally thanked each of us for being there.  It was very moving - and very humbling.  I mean, compared to the hardships these young men endure and the sacrifices they make serving our nation, I’ve done absolutely nothing by riding a handful of miles to stand the flagline.  At one point, one of the soldiers shook my hand and thanked me for being there to honor SSGt Tucker.  Both of us were holding back the tears, and we kind of paused there for a second hanging on the edge.  I told him that the honor was mine for being there, and that I was grateful for all that they do.  As we were preparing to leave, one of the members of the 160th presented us each with a pin with the 160th SOAR unit crest.  It sits on my desk as I write this, and I will cherish it always as a reminder of the day.  I’ve not the right to wear it, and would never even consider doing so, but I feel quite honored that SSGt Tucker’s brothers in arms considered me worthy to receive it.

This was a tough mission for me, and it took me a long time to write it up.  It was just so humbling to have these dedicated soldiers thanking us for what we were doing, and it effected me for quite a while.

It is interesting how life often circles back around.  About a month ago, we found a lost puppy wandering the streets near our home.  He had no collar or tags, but he was well fed and looked cared for.  Naturally we assumed someone would be looking for him, so we picked him up and printed up some fliers with his picture and posted them at every intersection for a couple miles around.  Nobody called.

We called our local vet to see if they had someone in the office who could scan the pup for a microchip, and we were lucky enough to catch someone there.  Success! He had a chip.  Surely we would have him reuinited with his people shortly.  Or not.  The chip was never registered, and the trail dead-ended at a shelter in Oregon.  They had apparently adopted out the dog, but never recorded his chip number.

Days went by, and nobody called about the dog.  It was becoming more and more apparent that someone had just put him out rather than making an effort to find a home for him.  We could not keep him long term, because we already have two big dogs.  So we turned him over to a local rescue group, Pet Rescue By Judy.

Fast forward to this weekend.  The local Harley Owners’ Group held a charity ride to benefit Pet Rescue By Judy, and Lisa and I knew we just had to go.

We rolled into the starting staging area around 8:30, and joined the large group of riders already on hand to raise money for this worthwhile group.

The first stop on the ride was, appropriately enough, the Rescue’s main shelter.

The shelter doesn’t normally allow visitors in the animal lodging areas, but because it was a special event, they allowed us back to visit with some of the dogs. In the kennel area was a familiar face - little beast, the dog we had found and turned over to the rescue! He seemed to remember us, and promptly flopped over for a tummy rub when he saw us. The rescue staff told us they had a foster placement for him, and he would be going there soon. It’s good to see he’s with people who care about him and are taking care of him now. A horrific pox upon whomever dumped him….

The ride continued through a couple more stops, where the riders had to locate items of information about each of the stops for our ride forms.

The ride culminated at the Green Parrot in Fern Park, where the final turnout proved to be very impressive.

It was a great day for a ride, and a great turnout to support the work of the Rescue. Lisa and I were glad to be a part of it.

Well, it’s been a long couple of weeks, and Lisa and I really needed to get out for a bit.  So we decided to go somewhere for a ride.

We have a local travel book called “Best Backroads of Florida”, and one of the chapters discusses some of the roads in Lake County near Lake Miniehaha.  One road is identified as “the most scenic in all of Florida”.  Well, that sounded too good to pass up, so we put on our gear, gassed up the Road King, and hit the road.

As it turns out, the author of the book clearly had not been to the road he lauded so heavily in quite some time.  It is, perhaps, home to the most scenic landfill in Florida, but that’s hardly the same thing.

Oh, well, live and learn.  We headed North out of there along Lakeshore drive, which was in fact quite lovely.  A dense canopy overhangs the road, with long tendrils of Spanish Moss hanging down like party decorations long forgotten.  The views of the lake are spectacular, and quickly redeemed the trip.  We rumbled along around Lake Minnehaha, and then north along Lake Minneola and Lake Palatakaha before joining Route 19 northward toward Howie-in-the-Hills.

At this juncture I’d like to note that I’ve no idea what or who Howie is, nor why he / it is in the hills.

Route 19 wanders along past farmland and dozens of smaller lakes and ponds before crossing Little Lake Harris via a long bridge 2 lane with low railings.  The views of the lake from the bridge are strikingly pretty, and well worth the trip.  In due course, we arrived in Tavares, where we turned East along the north shore of Lake Dora and began to head back home.  It was our longest outing to date, with a little over 4 hours on the bike, and a great way to get out of the house for a while.

When I bought the Road King, it had a Harley Davidson Badlander seat on it.  The badlander was sleek, and it looked nice, but it was a bit on the firm side.  The passenger pillion on the Badlander is part seat, part medieval torture device.  Narrow, hard, and curved the wrong way for a person to sit on.

We’d compensated with an Airawk pad for me, and a Butty Buddy for Lisa, but I was still pretty sore after an hour and a half or so in the saddle.

The other day, I was at the dealership and saw a nice looking Mustang seat hanging on the rack.  After some research, I talked it over with Lisa and bought the seat.

Other than managing to drop and temporarily lose the seat bolt, installation was a snap, and the seat looks very nice on the bike.  More to the point, it is very comfortable for both of us.

This morning, we headed out for a ride to see how it felt on a ride.  We headed out from the house for a lap of Lake Monroe, orbiting the lake in a counter-clockwise direction starting from Route 46 and Route 415 in Sanford.  About a mile north of Route 46 on Route 415, you cross a small bridge over the St. Johns river and enter Volusia county.  The view from the bridge and route 415 is spectacular, with sweeping vistas of the St. Johns river and the marshy surrounding environs.

About a mile north of the bridge, Route 415 meets Reed Ellis Road.  Turning left onto Reed Ellis, the trip passes several horse farms, and the road becomes tree-lined with a dense overhead canopy.  Reed Ellis Road meet up with Enterprise - Osteen road.  Traveling in toward Enterprise, the road continues through a tunnel of palm trees, and eventually becomes Lakeshore Drive.  Suddenly, the trees on the south side of the road give way to views of the lake.

Caution is needed here, though.  Sandy patches in the road make the riding interesting, particularly as you near the boat ramp on Lakeshore Drive.  After a storm, you may also encounter detrial palm fronds in the road.  When moist, these can be quite slick.

Lakeshore eventually turns north and meets up with Debary Avenue in Enterprise proper.  Traveling west along Debary Avenue, you pass under I-4 and encounter Route 17-92.  A turn to the south on 17-92 quickly returns you to Seminole County, crossing over a much wider, more robust St. Johns and then turning along the southern shore of Lake Monroe for another very pretty shoreline ride.  As we traveled along the shore line, we noted a lone large storm cloud over the opposite shore (back where we started the loop) pouring down rain.  Timing, as they say, is everything.

All told, the ride was a bit over 1 1/2 hours, and both of us got off the bike well rested and comfortable.  The new seat makes a world of difference, and we’re both looking forward to the additional comfort on future rides.

Sgt Lewis “Doug” Bishop

United States Marine / LEO Ret.

Vietnam Veteran

Sanford, Florida

Bushnell, Florida

Friday, 07 Aug 09

Doug’s wife Janet has asked the Patriot Guard Riders to stand in honor of Sgt. Lewis “Doug” Bishop.  Doug served in Vietnam as a Marine and was the recipient of the Purple Heart, Combat Action Ribbon, Vietnam Service Medal, Vietnam Campaign Medal, National Defense National Defense Service Medal, and Good Conduct Medal.  Doug was retired Commander from the Sanford Police Department.  He was also was a member of Masonic Lodge 62, Scottish Rite of Free Masonry, SJ, USA, Bahia Shrine, American Legion Post 53, Veterans of Foreign Wars Post 8093, Disabled American Veterans Chapter 30, Honorable Order of Kentucky Colonels,  and Elks USA.

This has been a busy week for the PGR in Florida, and although I could not make all the missions, I did manage to get away for the morning to make this one.

It was an honor to stand for Sgt. Bishop.

A group of 5 of us linked up in Sanford to ride over to Bushnell for the PGR Honor mission for Specialist Coleman.  Our group consisted of the Rids Captain, Lee, riding his BMW R1100, myself and another rider on Harley touring bikes, and Carl and MaeLynn riding their triumph sidecar rig.  It was a warm but clear morning for a ride as we set off across the state along the back roads.  Our route took us through some scenic Florida terrain along Route 46, Route 19 and Route 48 through Howey-in-the-Hills and Okahumpka.  The bridge across Little Lake Harris is particularly picturesque.

With the APRS setup on the bike, I was able to reach the network most of the way, and produced a nice track.

Apart from one or two impatient idiots in cages, one of whom cut into the middle of our group in an unsafe manner after running out of room trying to pass, the ride over was relaxed and easy.  I was much more comfortable riding in the group after my riding time in Maryland with Sean, and the relaxed formation we were riding was a help as well.

The actual mission at Bushnell has been covered in a previous post, so I will not recount it here.  Following the completion of our mission at Bushnell, we headed out for some food and the long ride back home.  A gathering cloud mass in the West promised rain in the near future, but we figured we had enough time to grab some chow before we headed back.  The original five of us joined with another group of 5 PGR riders and we headed for Sonny’s barbecue for a little food and some fellowship.

A short while later, having been well fed and having swapped riding stories, we broke into our separate groups and headed out for home.  The storms to the West had gained ground as we ate, and a light drizzle began to fall as we mounted up in the parking lot.  To the West were dark skies laden with moisture and pierced with all too frequent strokes of lightning.  To the East, blue skies and scattered clouds.  Made one glad to be headed East….

We played hide and seek from the rain all the way home, receiving a good steady soaking on Route 19, followed by intermittent showers the rest of the way.  You have to love Florida summertime weather, where it is not uncommon to be under bright blue skies and pouring rain.  At least it kept us relatively cool on the way home.

Along the route, our group shrank down to just Lee and I as the others split off the route to go home.  We rolled into Sanford just ahead of the rain, moving out from under it between traffic lights, and then having it catch up when we got caught at lights.  Lee and I parted ways in Sanford, and as I headed South from Sanford toward home, the skies in front of my path began to look as dark and foreboding as the black skies in the rear view mirrors.  I cautiously made my way through on and off showers through the final few miles to home.  Soon, I was safely parked in the garage, and the Road King shut down for a well-earned rest.

Shortly after I arrived home, the heavens erupted with very heavy rain and intense, frequent lightning.  I was most glad I had beaten that mess home.

On July 29, 2009, a statewide email went out to the Patriot Guard Riders in Florida:

Friday July 24th SPC Justin D. Coleman from Spring Hill, FL and members of his unit were conducting security checks in a remote, mountainous region of Afghanistan where military officials believed the Taliban held captive Army PFC Bowe R. Bergdahl. PFC Bergdahl disappeared from his outpost a month ago and appeared in a Taliban hostage video last week.

Our soldiers were ambushed. Justin and three other members of his unit were killed in the attack. A week before Coleman’s death, he traded Internet messages with his father telling him he was leaving for a mission. The e-mail ended, “Alrighty dad, talk to you when I get back.”

One of Justin’s concerns was that if anything ever happened to him that he would be forgotten. His family wants to be sure that their Hero lives on in the hearts of many. They have invited the Patriot Guard Riders to stand in silent respect for their Hero at services for him Sunday and Monday in Spring Hill, Florida.

A TRUE SOLDIER
A little boy was born one day and grew to be a man.
His career was uncertain; but he had no concrete plan.
He wanted to go to college; but the money wasn’t there,
And to be a loafer, Justin wouldn’t dare.
He chose to join the Army to be all that he could be.
To show his love of country, and to help keep her free.
He went through basic training enduring the drill and the grind,
And furthered his education with a special goal in mind.
Holding steadfast to his faith, allowing God to lead the way,
He became and ordained minister and often stopped to pray.
When orders cam for Justin to fight in foreign lands,
He asked, God safe;y keep me in your loving hands.
He bravely faced his duty in Afghanistan,
Where life is so uncertain and you dare not trust any man.
Soldiers group together in this world so far from home,
Where things are so very different from the life that they have known.
Strangers become brothers; they watch each others back.
They give no though or whining to the comforts that they lack.
They cross unknown territory, enormous weight upon their back,
Where the enemy lay hid just waiting to attack.
While on a special mission Justin’s spirit quickly soared,
When an angel came to guide him through the gates at Heaven’s door.
God welcomed Justin home with a gentle warm embrace.
His soul was filled with peace; danger never again to face.
And though this Solder’s laid to rest, he still has things to do;
He’ll join the choir in Amazing Grace and walk each step with you.
He’ll stand guard as you are sleeping and watch over you each day,
And pray that you find comfort until you pass his way.
The meaning of a hero has gotten lost along the way;
A her9 is not an athlete that makes a living while at play.
A hero is a SOLDIER looking out for you and me,
Fighting for our country to preserve our liberty.
Our freedom is a gift forged by bravery and pride.
Many soldiers fought for it and many soldiers died.
As you enjoy your freedom, let Justin’s memory live on;
Pray for those still fighting and those already gone.

Leaving on a mission, can’t say more.
If you want more details, I’ll tell you at heaven’s door.

Written by Annie Brown Bonnett

The response from the PGR and other organizations was just outstanding.  All told, there were nearly 100 bikes involved in the escort from the funeral home to Florida National Cemetery in Bushnell and waiting in the flagline at Bushnell. As the processional rolled along from Spring Hill to Bushnell, the roads were lined with members of the community holding up flags and signs and paying their respects as the procession passed.