Semper fi, this blog's for you



There's nothing more to say about this.



July 5 and I'm off to Sgt. Grit's this morning. It's about 107 miles from the hotel in Elk City, and I'm meeting my friend, Ruth, from Kansas there. We're riding to the Women on Wheels Ride In in South Carolina together, in a roundabout way. Where ever we go, whatever we do, we'll be doing it together, at least for a few days. Oh my, wasn't there a song about that?

Sgt. Grit's is a place where Marines and former Marines buy stuff that is Marine-related. Hobbs has never asked me to bring him anything EVER, but this time he asked me to stop there to get him something, anything. How could I refuse? And I'm happy to do it. I like having missions when I'm on the bike. It gives me a reason to ride somewhere, for something. Pizza 240 miles away, lunch 350 miles away, one-way.  Day rides, all.  I don't really need a reason, but it's always nice to be able to say that I have one.

The weather didn't seem so hot this morning, or maybe I'm getting used to it. It did end up being 101 degrees, but I had my hydration vest and neck snake, and they do help. When the weather is this hot, though, I feel the need to slow down because when passing along areas where it's green or where there's water, or if I'm under cloud, it seems to be a 10-degree drop in the temperature. I want to stay there to enjoy the perceived coolness for a while. But too soon, it ends, and off I go back into the blast furnace that is like the bowels of hell.

It really doesn't matter, rain, heat, snow, hail, cold. I've ridden in all of it. Mud, dirt, gravel, broken pavement. I've ridden in that, too. I don't always like what I ride in, but it continues to be an incredible adventure. Life is an adventure and that's how I live it, so let's ride, baby, ride.

I kept on until I found Sgt. Grit's although, being directionally-challenged, I went by it first and had to turn around and come back. Inside there is a welcoming rug with Semper Fi, the Marine Corps motto, meaning always faithful or always loyal.

And here I am, Sgt. Grit's.

This is what greeted me when I walked through the door of Sgt. Grits.  Ain't he cute?

There's also a small museum with memorabilia of various types, uniforms, knives, memorials. It was interesting although I didn't linger long. I knew it would mean something to the Marine I live with, so I snapped a few photos for him.

Sgt. Grit.  Must be himself.

These did not seem to be full-size, but they were in a case with other memorabilia.

A memorial to one who helped pay for our freedoms.

Inside the main area is the showroom there is anything and everything you could hope to purchase with a Marine logo or saying on it. I chose a few things for him that I didn't think he had, and yep, free mailing. Woo hoo. Something I don't have to pack.

Sgt. Grit's is packed with all that is Marine ... and some that is not, but has the Marine logo on it.

The place isn't big but it's packed to overflowing.



This flag hangs at Sgt. Grit's and is to honor those who died in the 9/11 terrorist attacks.  Now and forever it represents their immortality.  We shall never forget them.

And yes, I signed the guest book.

Ruth had gotten there a little before me. We were sweating unlike how girls should, but there was no helping it. It was hot.

We rode off down the road, heading for Lawton, for our first night together on the road. She uses a GPS and I'm not always real trusting of them. I think they play jokes on you and take you on longer routes than you thought you were going to travel.

We were close to the hotel, according to the GPS, when we spotted a sign for a Harley shop. We were in the wrong lane but turned around and went back. I never saw a Harley shop where I didn't want to stop to buy a shirt. This one was no exception. I can't help it. Harley shops draw me like a moth to the flame. I won't tell you how many I have, but it's the price of a new car, although probably a cheap one.

We arrived at our hotel for the evening, ordered in Chinese food, and then hopped onto the Internet. We sit across the table, hardly speaking, working on our computers, drinking our drinks of choice, Pepsi for her, water for me.

And that, folks, is an evening wrap.