Who called the police on me?

It was another hot day. I was trying to tell myself that excuse is enough for me not to exercise. But unfortunately or fortunately I can recognize lame excuses so I went for a hill climb.

It is interesting how I start out with the  goal of going to the top but mid walk I think it is hot or this is not the day. Last week I used the real excuse that my legs were tired but that excuse was past its expiration date. I decided to go to the top.

Compared to other days I was going to do it without a rest. I was going to walk a little slower on the places that were relatively flat. I made it!

What I didn’t foresee was the police coming.


I know I was a little winded but there was no need to have the Prefectural Police Rescue Squad come with a stretcher!

Actually these poor police officers were having to train today. They had packs and full uniforms. (I was in shorts.) The man in the second picture in the foreground with three “stars” was in charge.  Everyone was taking a rest. (I thought it was everyone.) That man started to go back down the hill and another police officer followed. It turns out a young police officer was still down the hill. He was stuck standing on some steps with his pack. I felt for him. It is embarrassing to be the lone guy out struggling when everyone else is at the rest stop.

To end this story, I was feeling pretty good about myself. I did the hill. I accomplished something but then Japan being Japan I was outdone by people not only climbing the hill but with packs and full uniforms. I didn’t even have a stretcher with me. What a loser!

I did meet one of these though.

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6 thoughts on “Who called the police on me?”

  1. A major Left goal is self-suppression of soft targets.  Each morning IngSoc had Winston do calisthenics By The Book, and woe unto him if he did not.  If Winston did not voluntarily contribute to Victory Parades, woe unto him.  Are you an Agent of Goldstein?  Everybody has a reservation in Room 101.

    Oh, wait – soft target police presence is coincidental.  They are really in Kenosha, Wisconsin overseeing volunteers emergency demolish dangerous buildings…like their precinct houses.

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  2. The C&O (Chesapeake and Ohio) canal runs 184 miles from Cumberland, Maryland to Washington, DC.  It was started under George Washington, but by the time it was finished, the competition from the Railroad was pretty intense.  It ran for a while, but eventually closed and is now a very long linear park.  There are “hiker/biker” campsites about every 10 miles and lots of people either hike or or bike along the towpath.

    When he was about 15, my son and I did the cycling/camping thing, starting at Cumberland (it is downhill from there).  Out at that end, you can go for hours without passing anyone.  Anyway, we were clanging along on our bikes (my son did a poor job of securing his cooking pot).  We came up on about a dozen National Guard soldiers “commando-crawling” along either side of the towpath.  Towards the end of this, a Lieutenant  stood up, saluted and said to me “Its all clear down below, sir”.

    It was a very surreal experience

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  3. WillowSpring:
    The C&O (Chesapeake and Ohio) canal runs 184 miles from Cumberland, Maryland to Washington, DC.  It was started under George Washington, but by the time it was finished, the competition from the Railroad was pretty intense.  It ran for a while, but eventually closed and is now a very long linear park.  There are “hiker/biker” campsites about every 10 miles and lots of people either hike or or bike along the towpath.

    When he was about 15, my son and I did the cycling/camping thing, starting at Cumberland (it is downhill from there).  Out at that end, you can go for hours without passing anyone.  Anyway, we were clanging along on our bikes (my son did a poor job of securing his cooking pot).  We came up on about a dozen National Guard soldiers “commando-crawling” along either side of the towpath.  Towards the end of this, a Lieutenant  stood up, saluted and said to me “Its all clear down below, sir”.

    It was a very surreal experience

    When I was younger I biked in the San Juan Islands. One takes the ferry from Anacortes, Washington. In fact I was up there when Mt. St. Helens blew.

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