I went down to a quarry in Alabama on Saturday to brush up on some of my diving skills and to get more familiar with my new BCD (buoyancy control device) and my new dive computer. Since I usually do a rerun on the weekend here is a chronicle of my last trip to the Alabama quarry.
This was the big event. My checkout dive. We had to go to a quarry in Alabama. So, I got up early Saturday morning and drove to the quarry in Alabama. It was 130 miles from my home. Got there half an hour early as did just about everyone else. This place was out in the middle of nowhere, but was evidently a popular spot for diving and snorkeling.
To get to the dock, I had to step up on a walkway. Got the first foot up, positioned my crutches and ... Bam! I fell. This isn't good. So I tried again with assistance (a helpful push from behind) and made it.
Got to the dock and unpacked my gear. Got everything ready: my exposure suit on, tank in the BCD (buoyancy control device), regulator in tank, inflator in BCD, air on, second stages checked, weight belt on, BCD on, and mask defogged. Let's go.
Into the water go our jolly band of five students and two instructors. First we work on buoyancy. Some of us descend too fast, others, after descending, got too positive and start to shoot for the surface. Oops. I have my own problems, but as the dive progresses my buoyancy control improves.
We arrive at an underwater platform, and practice mask clears and regulator purges. Also, more buoyancy practice. We have to stay on the platform. To make it a little bit harder, the platform has some gunk on it and slopes slightly, which means students slide.
After mask clears and regulator purges, we swim around the quarry for awhile. More buoyancy practice. Then, it's back to the dock. Dive one is done. Since we didn't go very deep, we didn't use much air, and we can use the same tank for dive two.
Here is where I make my first mistake of the day. ( Falling doesn't count. That's part of my life. Every step is an adventure. ) I take off my exposure suit. I wanted to go get my backpack where I had a couple of bottles of water. So, I took off my suit, put on my braces, and got ready to fetch my water. At that time, Ned, another student, asked if he could bring me anything. Sure, my backpack. He brought it. I sat in the sun and drank my water.
Before suiting up for the second dive, I noticed my shins were pink. Paraplegics have bad circulation below the level of injury, and we can sunburn faster. And, since I have no sensation in my shins, I didn't feel it. At least it was pink and not red. My shoulders and nose were slightly burnt also. Not unusual. My nose always burns. Anyway, time to get back in the water.
Back in the water. We practice ascents and buoyancy control. Off to another underwater platform. We swim past a sunken boat and a sunken car. This is Alabama after all. Now, we take off our masks completely, put them back on, and clear them. No problem. I was certified over twenty years ago so I'm used to taking the mask on and off underwater. Then we practice out of air. One diver signals out of air to his buddy who gives him his spare second stage (spare second stages were not required twenty years ago) and the two of them slowly ascend to the surface. After this we swim around more and go below the thermocline. Brrrr! It's cold down there. We swim back to the dock take the gear off and we're done. Getting me up on the dock is fun. Graham, one of the instructors, gets behind me and pushes me up the ladder and on to the dock, where I flop like a seal and bounce the rest of the way. I try to make seal sounds. Bark! Bark!
Get all the gear off, get my braces on, and head for the adventure of getting from the dock to the gravel walkway. Able to step off without falling. Success! Get up to my car and get ready to head back to Beautiful Dunwoody.
As I leave the quarry, I try to retrace my route back home. I screw up immediately by turning left instead of right. When that road runs out, I make another left and go to the end of that road and realize ... I'm lost. Omigawd! I'm lost in Alabama!
Wait a minute. I'm in Foggy Bottom (real name). I can ask one of the locals for directions. Foggy Bottom consists of one old style gas station with a small store. Think the 1950's version of Quick Trip. I get out of the car to walk inside and about that time someone walks out.
Me: Excuse me, could you tell me how to get to I-20?
Him:(Scratching head) I-20?
Me: How about 431?
A little interlude here for the requisite Alabama joke. The toothbrush was invented in Alabama. How do I know? If it had been invented anywhere else, it would have been called the teethbrush. (Rimshot) This next part is true. In Alabama they have dentists with one day false teeth services. I saw a sign offering this in Birmingham. This man, who was very nice by the way, had terrible teeth.
Him: To get to 431, you go back down that road until you come to a lttle bridge. Turn right on that road which will take you over the mountain, and that will run right into 431.
Me: Cool. Thanks.
Him: Oh, one more thing. You'll see a topped out tree right before the bridge.
Me: Thank you sir.
By the way. Real southerners (I'm from Missouri so I don't count) are usually very polite, so when I'm around 'em I try to be too. It's only booger eatin' moh-rons that I'm rude to.
Back down the road I go and looked for the topped out tree. Didn't see it and while looking, I cross the little bridge (and was it little) and missed the turn. Go another half mile and think, was that a little bridge I crossed? Didn't look like much of a bridge, Sho' nuff. It was. Go back to little bridge, turn on the road, and go over the mountain (wasn't much of a mountain either) and get to 431 and drive back to Atlanta. The trip was uneventful. Was tired. Went to bed early.
Get up early Sunday morning and drive back to Alabama. Ned, one of the divers, carried my stuff down for me. Ned, by the way, is from Bosnia, as is his wife. She's already certified and was there yesterday to refresh her skills. They're gonna go on a cruise in October and want to dive. She stayed home today.
Gear up. Graham wants me to put on my BCD in the water. Also, I discovered I can do a frog kick, so I brought my old fins with me today. Bert didn't laugh at them like he has at all my other old equipment. Into the water. Everything on. Let's rock! Today, Bert, the main instructor, wants us to try underwater compass navigation. I'm buddied up with Ned and Graham is right behind us like a shepherd herding his flock. Courtney and the other student (I never got his name) are on their own. We arrive at the dock and see bubbles about 20 yards away. Ooops! They missed. Graham, like a good border collie, goes over and herds them back to us.
Down on the platform we do more remove mask and put back on drills. We also go a little deeper today. It's cold below the thermocline. We come back up and do some controlled ascents. Careful, don't come up too fast. Look up.
We surface and then we do the tired diver tow. The qualification distance is 25 yards. I did it in the pool, just barely. Today we go from one dock to another and I get to tow Graham. Remember, I can only use my arms. I can't do a frog kick when I'm in an almost vertical position. I make it! That's more than 25 yards. It's somewhere between 50 and 75 yards. By now, I'm a very tired diver. Graham tows me back to the dock and we get out. One more dive to go.
Today, I only take the top of my suit off, put on a T-shirt, and put on a hat. I hate hats. I never wear a hat. I wore one today. My hair is not as thick as it used to be. Plus I want to protect my face. Drink lots of water.
Last dive of the day. The final exam. Off we go with some more underwater compass navigation. We all make it. Then we swim around some more. Look there's a truck. I mean a big truck. A big ol' truck trailer sunk in this quarry in Alabama. We find another platform and practice buddy breathing. Ned and I both live. Then we get to do controlled emergency ascents. You're out of air, but still don't ascend too fast. And exhale. If ya don't, your lungs will explode. We all make it with lungs intact. Then, we swim underwater back to the dock. We're all certified!
Even though Bert is giving me an open water certification (I passed all the skills), he's also certifying me HSA-B, which means I should dive with two other buddies. I'm on an honor system.
Get the car all packed up and I'm on my way. I make it to Anniston Alabama and my check engine light comes on. This can't be a good thing. I look at the temperature gauge and It's pegged. This can't be a good thing either. Better pull over to the side of the road, which I do and then Pow! and water spray on my windshield and steam coming from under the hood. I know this really can't be a good thing.
Pop the hood and get out of the car. Look under the hood. Hose from radiator hanging loose. This is really not a good thing. I have two cell phones. One from TCIDNN (The Company I Dare Not Name) and one for myself. For some reason, I have neither with me. I'm right in front of the Seven Seas Super Buffet (all you an eat for $5.95), which is obviously a Chinese restaurant. I'm just getting ready to go in and call AAA, when a nice lady stops and lets me use her cell phone. (I love living in the South!) I call AAA. I could write an entire blog about that conversation. Basically I tell her I'm about one mile north of exit 185 off of I-20, on 431 heading south. It's a gray 1992 BMW 325is. Repeat. Repeat. Yes, on highway 431 heading south. Yes, one mile north of I-20, exit 185. Yes gray BMW. Repeat. Repeat. Even then, they usually get it wrong. Listen. Just look for the bloody Seven Seas Super Buffet (all you can eat for $5.95). The parking lot is packed on a Sunday afternoon. Everyone in Anniston should know where that is.
About this time, Bert and Graham come along. They look under the hood and think they may be able to fix the problem. I don't think so. We look and see that it's the radiator outlet and too much has broken off. (BTW I later found out that this isn't a bug, it's a feature. BMW designed the cooling system to have this piece of the radiator blow if your water pump dies. That way you get to have both the water pump and the radiator replaced) I realize, it's either have the car towed to Atlanta or to Birmingham. I have a good BMW mechanic in Atlanta, so I've decided I'll just do that.
The AAA person said she'd try to expedite and have the tow truck there in less than an hour. Sho' nuff, in about 35 minutes the tow truck shows up and I tell the driver we need to go to Atlanta.
Him: Alanner?
Me: Atlanta.
Him: All the way ta Alanner is gonna cost ya a bit.
Me: (biting the bullet)Yep. But I don't really have a choice unless ya know someone who can replace a BMW radiator on a Sunday afternoon in Anniston Alabama.
Him: Don't reckon ah know no one who ken do that.
So Leon gets the car on his truck and off we go to Alanner. I know his name is Leon because it's written on his shirt. Leon is missing half of his teeth. This is Alabama after all. We start a conversation and since the truck is loud there are a lot of 'do what's'. For those of you who do not speak Southern, when someone doesn't hear you he usually says either 'say what' or 'do what'.
Turns out Leon is a retired over the road truck driver. He started work at eighteen and worked driving big rigs for forty years. For the last four years he's been a tow truck driver. He told me some neat stories about his forty years on the road. He drove rigs to every one of the contiguous 48 states. By the time we got to Alanner, I was calling it Alanna. Couldn't quite lose that last a.
About now you're probably saying, 'You elitist butthead. How dare you make fun of these Alabama good ol' boys.' This is the way it works. Everyone in Georgia makes fun of Alabama. Alabama probably makes fun of Mississippi and Mississippi probably makes fun of Arkansas. Anyway, I wasn't gonna do any politics, but here goes.
I like Leon. Remember the map of the 2000 election? Ya know, the blue and the red? Leon is one of the people in the red. He worked hard for forty years. He's 62 years old and is still working. He is one of the people who has made this country great. He lives in a small town called Cold Water. I'll bet he doesn't have to lock the doors in his house. He grew up on a farm and helped his 'daddy' on the farm until he was eighteen and then got a job as a truck driver. He's hard working, honest, and never took a dime of gummint aid. We need a lot more Leons in this country.
There are lots of Leons in Georgia. Right now whole big bunches of young Leons are enlisting in the Army to fight our war against terror. During Desert Storm, a lot of Leons joined up to serve our country in the military. I met a lot of Leons when I was in the Navy in the late '60's. Leons are very patriotic. They are also very polite with lots of yessirs and yes'ms. Their mommas and daddies slapped the shit out of 'em if they smarted off and back then no one called the cops for child abuse when people were disciplining their children. As a result, children were better behaved. I even met some Leons from Missouri. They were all country boys. I always liked to be around Leons. I still do. What you see is what you get. It's a shame Bill Clinton wasn't a Leon. But then he wouldn't have become President.
Back to the story. We make it to Alanner. He unloads the car at GOC Central in Beautiful Dunwoody. I pay him $278. I thank him. He thanks me. I shake his hand and thank him for the nice stories and he leaves. I feel poorer for the $278 (it's only money), but richer for having met this hardworking son of the South. My friend Wahoo (don't ask...that's another blog) who's from South Carolina and my brother-in-law, also from South Carolina probably have met lots of Leons in their lives. They grew up with 'em and went to school with 'em. Wahoo is still somewhat of a Leon himself. He and Leon would probably go out together for a few beers and swap stories.
So now I'm stuck. I started out this blog with my amazing dive weekend and how nice it is to be certified and I ended up talking about an Alabama redneck. How do I end my tale? I don't have a good ending line like I usually do (or at least try to). How about (if this isn't too sappy) this?
This country will stay great as long as we have Leons.
Posted by denny at September 20, 2003 11:01 PM