Wanderings of an Itinerant Zoomie

(Or a Conversation about Climates)

Oh, they still weren't done with me, Ed. When I left the Philippines in October of 1969 after three and a half years in the tropics, they shipped me to the sultry climes of Finland, Minnesota, where my unfortunate hips eventually became more thoroughly chapped than they’d ever been up on Easy Queen*.  The place had a curling rink, for Heaven's sake! I had never before seen a curling rink live and in person, so to speak, and I’ve never been near another one since I left the tundra of Finland Air Force Station.

I was driving back to the site one day in my trusty ’69 GTO when one of the troops, on a snowmobile, did an Evel Knievel up a snow bank and over the car. Scared the spit out of me. For a moment, I couldn’t figure out what was happening as he roared over the car. Needless to say, I cursed him out of sight, but he disappeared into Superior National Forest without hitting a tree, as I was fervently hoping he would. I took these kinds of carryings-on for about a year and a half. Then I threw in the towel and transferred to California, where there was no need for electrical outlets in the parking areas for heaters to keep car engines from freezing solid in winter.

Incidentally, one of my squadron mates made the mistake of blowing his horn at a moose that was ambling nonchalantly down the site access road. Wrong move - the moose took exception to his impertinence and proceeded to vent its ire on the car. After customizing the vehicle and nearly giving its unlucky driver a heart attack in the process, the moose continued on its way, apparently none the worse for wear. Left no doubt as to who was King of the Road in that particular part of the forest, though. I always gave moose (and bears) the right of way. Bobcats, too.

Some years earlier, I was stationed in Lewistown, Montana before heading for Nam.  One fine day I met a bobcat – that looked to be on steroids – standing in the middle of the road. It seemed to be daring me to run over it.  I was afraid it might bite a tire in two or slash something vital off my car if I tried, so I waited until it decided to stroll arrogantly on its way, triumphant. I then proceeded rather shakily on to the radar site.

I must say, I’ve been stationed in some interesting places. But I didn’t see another live moose after leaving Finland until I found myself in Tin City, Alaska, on the scenic shores of the Bering Sea, some seventy miles from Siberia.

Since I had come from Sunny Spain to northern Montana before heading for Nam, you might say the Air Force kept running hot and then cold on me.

*Easy Queen Mountain, located about two miles from the DMZ in South Korea. I spent Christmas 1968 there. The radar equipment was housed in tents.

http://www.8thwood.com/good_times_on_easy_queen.htm