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Sustaining Sanity in Iraq: What a long, strange trip it's been

By Major Jason A. Bryan, 101st Sustainment Brigade
Published: Jun. 12, 2006

Sunday - There’s a new crater from an incoming rocket just off myroute on this morning’s ride.

This afternoon, outside a company headquarters, there’s a makeshiftmemorial for a fallen Soldier, victim of a roadside bomb many miles away.The memorial - dog tags, rifle, boots, and helmet - were property of the Soldier only a day before. His teammates take turns standing guard, bravelymourning their loss.Sobering reminders of a reality we’d all rather forget.But life goes on. Cheers from a softball game echoed in front of the vigil at the company headquarters, the game a pleasant distraction from the sadness we all feel.I went for a ride in the evening, somber. A truck full of Iraq Army troops passed me on the road, headed toward the towers they guardalong the perimeter. They greeted me with full-arm waves and cheers, oblivious to my sadness. I was immediately comforted by their warmth and reminded of the appreciation many Iraqis show toward the Americans here.I sped up and they cheered me on. I hung with the truck for a moment before they pulled away, unaware of the impact they just made on my day.On the backside of the perimeter, completely isolated from the rest of the world and motivated by the support from my new Iraqi fan club, The Grateful Dead’s “Truckin’” came on my iPod and I left all my sorrow behind. I sang at the top of my lungs.What a long, strange trip it’s been.I finished the lap. Then, did another.

And now, for something completely different.Needs x Faith = Motivation.In this case, my need to fix my wheel was great enough to overcome total lack of faith in my mechanical skills and potential disaster, resulting in the motivation to take action. The image of my own personal resilience (and ultimately the ingenuity of all U.S. Forces deployed around the world) rested on overcoming the wobble of my back wheel.I found a friend and co-staff worker, CPT Eric Leiby, who had a confident twinkle in his eye when he accepted the challenge. Suddenly, my personal resilience, and ultimately the ingenuity of all U.S. Forces deployed around the world, rested on the skills of Eric Leiby.To say the project started slowly is an understatement. We took the wheel off, the skewer, the tire, etc. and began unscrewing anything with threads. I showed Eric the chain contraption tool that was supposed to release the cassette from the wheel. He laid it on the cassette and torqued until the chain snapped off the tool. Dammit! Resiliencelost in minute No. 3. I must note that Eric was not in good standing already,after sending a runner home on a fly ball with only one out… he thought there were two.What’s ridiculous is the fact that I had another chain contraption tool. To make a long story short, we (well, he) dismantled the hub, removed the cassette, and replaced three broken spokes. I must admit we spentabout 45 minutes looking for a ball bearing that wasn’t missing; evidently one side of the hub has eight and the other, nine (who knew?). After a few minutes of truing, we turned my potato chip into a wheel that Fausto Coppi himself would use to dance up the Col du Galibier with a smile.
My 15 minutes of VeloNews fame is better than EPO; I’m already over 400km for the month. Also, I’ve enjoyed helping a number of soon-to-deploy cyclists build their kits. Helping Soldiers get set up with the right gear is the most rewarding part of this whole adventure.I also must share a quick story regarding my brief moment in the sun and its impact on my cycling circle. I discovered the world of cycling and the merits of VeloNews from my cycling buddy and good friend, MAJ Glenn Gambrell, while we were stationed together at Fort Irwin, California.Glenn is what I would call “old school.” He pulled up to the corner of Goldstone and Outer Loop Road for our first ride on an ’85 Eddy Merckx with downtube shifters, wool jersey, and a leather helmet. We put in many miles around the Mojave Desert and I was happy to wait for him at the top of every climb.He taught me that there were races other than the Tour de France and cycling stories beyond Lance.We spent many, many evenings working on our bikes and drinking beerin his garage. Well, the truth is, he worked on the bikes and I drank the beer. My wife was quick to remind us before any garage project how we cross-threaded a pedal and had to replace a crank. Her only advice before a garage session: walk home.Then, in traditional military fashion, the Bryans transitioned to Fort Campbell. Then, he moved his family to Alaska and both of us were bound for Iraq. I was thrilled to find him at the same camp as me and we got to spend a few months hanging out here in Iraq. He moved to a new job in Mosul back in February. I sent him a brief e-mail to check out my good fortune on VeloNews.com.His simple reply: "YOU BITE ASS!"He is far better with words than I am.