Next Stop: Adventure

About three years ago, my former Chief told me a few things about his experience in Afghanistan. He prepared for a rigorous trip packed w/ warfare and terror. What he hadn't counted on was a life-changing experience. He just hitched rides w/ various units, traveling across the land with his camera and documenting the beginning of the war in Afghanistan v2.0. The experience opened his eyes and mind. Says it changed the course of his life.

So he told me not to expect anything before I left for Cuba last year. I went high and right. I suffered for it too. Now I'm getting ready to head back out to my favorite places again, with some of my favorite people. But things have surely changed.

Some of these books are beat up because they got some heavy use on my previous trips to the region over the past three years. They opened up the fun and fascinating tips to get more out of the places the Navy takes me.

I found a custom sandal maker in Phnom Penh and Angkor Wat while visiting Cambodia.  I found the best trinket shops, massages, incense, temples and night life Thailand had to offer. I explored the intimate tie between the Philippines and US - and the stark contrast of life since the American departure there.

Now I have new adventures in new places. Hawaii. Okinawa. Vietnam. Indonesia. Malaysia. I've never been to these places. So I'm reading up.
 
Book after book and country after country, I'm finding the same story.

"despite many efforts to promote (insert SE Asian country) as a tourist destination in its own right - has little to offer apart from souvenir shops selling shells and some reasonable beaches outside town. It's a fast developing area, and the port has been upgraded to service the nearby industrial states." 

I'm jaded. It continues.

"The XXXX Navy has its principle base just outside town, and some 25,000 sailors make up the overwhelming majority for the town's inhabitants."

My previous trips to the region afforded me tons of freedom and latitude. It's incredibly difficult not to build expectations about what will and will not happen on my trip. Whether it's more of being in the back woods of a developing third-world country or Singaporean highrise condos - it will be an adventure. 

The Ensign and the Holiday Ensign

Yesterday was my first Sunday morning here on Oahu. I'll never forget it. The skies were a little cloudy w/ the occasional rain shower (which I'm quickly learning makes rainbows all over the place). But, as I crossed the bridge to Ford Island around 7:30, the sun lit up both the USS Arizona Memorial and USS Missouri. As awe inspiring as they are, they churn the pit of your stomach.

This photo shows USS Abraham Lincoln (CVN 72) sailing past the  USS Arizona Memorial  and USS Missouri moored behind it. Part of Arizona's forward turret is still above water and the flag flies from a remnant of the ships mast. 

Only one of these two ships was here on Sunday, December 7, 1941. And it never moved again. Arizona was sunk in the attack on Pearl Harbor. The ship is exactly where it was then and 1,102 of its 1,177 Sailors are entombed in it. Around the time of this photo, 0745, on that terrible Sunday, some men were sleeping off the previous night. Others had the dreaded weekend duty blues - and at least three of those guys were mustering for morning colors. It would be the last for USS Arizona.

My intention was simply to observe (salute the flag as it's raised for the day, every day at 0800) at either the Arizona or Missouri. Being that both ships are decommissioned, it was likely colors wouldn't be officially observed - but it was worth a shot and something I've wanted to do since sailing through the harbor in 1999, manning the rails of my first ship as a seaman recruit.

Seeing both these Navy ships from the deck of a Navy ship is THE most incredible way to visit Pearl Harbor. Driving a car up to the memorial and just isn't quite the same.

Stepping out, I expected silence in the somber mood. Even though I was hundreds of yards away, I could her her hum just like any Navy ship I've been on. The Mighty Mo' still sounds like it could get underway today. It was incredible to hear life coming from the ship - amidst the juxtaposition the sunk Arizona right in front of her.

The United States' role in WWII began on board USS Arizona with Japan's attack on Pearl Harbor and ended with the Japan's surrender in Tokyo Bay on board USS Missouri just under five years later. More than 1 million American service members were either killed or wounded from beginning to end. There is just no way to understand what that truly means unless you were part of it. I felt observing colors here was my way of respecting those who came before me wearing the same uniform I do.

Well come to find out, neither ship does colors. The Arizona memorial (above) always flies the ensign. A flagpole is affixed to part of Arizona's mangled mast. The Missouri staff (now US National Park Service), however, still hauls up and lowers the flag every day in unison w/ the active ships across the water in Pearl Harbor. So I went to go watch it.

You should have seen the looks I got walking up to the ship in my summer whites - the only person there at 7:50 a.m. Can you believe no one goes to see this happen?

The Missouri doesn't open for tours till 8 a.m., which would have been after colors. I explained my purpose to the pier guard, who radioed the topside guide and asked what they could do. The guide walked me to the fantail where his colleague handed me the flag and told me to raise it - something that hasn't happened on board by a military member in uniform in who knows how long...

I got so wrapped up in the moment of preparing, raising the flag and tying it off and rendering the sharpest of salutes, that I lost track of time. As the prep horns blew for first call to colors at 0755, Arizona would already have been hit. At 0800 the the national anthem begins. Everyone within earshot instinctively faces the flag, salutes if covered (wearing a military uniform w/ hat) and stands at attention until the end of the song. Three whistles will blow. By then an armor-piercing bomb would be headed toward Arizona. At 0810 the bomb would set off Arizona's forward battery, ripping the ship apart. At 8:05 a.m. I dropped my salute and the guide took a couple more photos of me standing by the flag - honored at what I was doing. 

In the time it took to do a military-wide morning routine, an entire fleet was bombed and more than a thousand men would die. There is no more humbling feeling or honor. I'd hoped to do colors at least one more time as it's generally done by junior enlisted folks. What an incredible experience.

The Vapors

At some point, probably in a daydream, I thought about a morning like this.

Started off with a short call home, followed by a workout, two-mile run and breakfast. Not just any breakfast, but one I cooked right here in my suite - egg sandwich w/ pepper jack cheese, avocado and pico de gallo. Then I topped it off w/ local Kona coffee and a dab of Vermont maple syrup, fresh local fruit and cottage cheese. Got a call from my grandmother and chatted about life for an hour on my balcony.

During my run, I heard a Biz Markie classic and can't help but think - are you catching the vapors?

A Welcome Change

All things considered, and over the past insane year right through this past weekend and finally today - sans the Fat Burger of course...

You Can't Always Get What You Want...

And you know the rest of the chorus to the song.

This is hardly the first time I've referenced these guys and possibly not the first time I've referenced this song. I guess the point is - I get it. I know what Jagger was thinking about when he wrote this little piece of genius. That's how life goes. We know what we want and we're heading toward it - that is until we realize we aren't getting it and end up getting what we need instead - usually unbeknown to ourselves.

And once again I'm reminded about the value of getting what you need and less what you thought you wanted. It's a good thing life has its way of making this happen for us. Otherwise, we might just be moving too fast in one direction to take in the things we truly need. Somewhere inside what is a disappointment or a shortcoming, there is truly an unforeseen value. I get it and I'm very thankful for that.

Racin' Jason: Life at Terminal Velocity

I got that name as a kid. Racin' Jason my uncles and aunts would call me. And if you know anything about me, you know I still uphold that title. While it used to cripple me as a kid, I've learned to harness it as an adult and focus most of it toward my goals.

My boss told me a few months ago he needed me moving at 90 mph and I was only doing 65. Imagine that - Jason Tross not going fast enough. I'm sure you're thinking what I was thinking then.

Well he'd be proud to know I far exceeded his (and my own) expectation by reaching terminal velocity through December and screaming into January and my time here and knocking out the toughest obstacles in groups of fives. But just as I figured, I'd have a hard stop at the wall when things simplified - and they're about to.

Being here and moving at this speed is putting forces on me I never anticipated, nor have I previously experienced in anything I've done. I'm reaching goals at record speeds and seeing instantaneous results. But then come the risks of being at terminal velocity - it's terminal right?

Imagine what a bug feels like at this speed. Then imagine how hitting anything feels. It's enough to kill you - let alone the ground that's screaming toward your face. It's now time to pull the chute and take in the ride. This won't be my last jump. I'm sure of that. If nothing else, I can feel confident that I can operate at this speed again later (which I'll likely have to) and I'll also be able to pull the chute in a moment's notice.

Lastly, it's the risk of the dives that keep people like me doing work like this. It's what I've wanted for so long. Now I'm finally here. Almost every year for the past five years, I've been at the Snowsports Industry of America (SIA) tradeshow hustling as fast as I could to make my mark on the ski and snowboard industry. These past two weeks while nearly everyone I know was doing the big show there and in Aspen at the ESPN Winter X-Games, I wasn't. And just as I presumed - I wouldn't rather be anywhere but here doing what I'm doing.

It's been one hell of a dive.

Motivating Motivational Statement

I was cruising around the interwebs looking for examples of successful motivational statements. Here's the best one I've found yet!

"I'm willing to play hurt and I like to blow things up. I like faster horses, older whiskey and younger women. I have a clean record when it comes to driving high performance cars in crappy conditions with little sleep. I know how to stick to my story when I screw the pooch. I don't screw over my buddy and will diligently resist screwing my buddy's wife. I think Ronald Reagan rocked and I can watch Animal House and Caddyshack repeatedly without getting bored. This is why I want to be a U.S. Naval Officer."

2010 - The Summary

Twenty-ten goes down as the best year of my life so far, slightly ahead of 2009 - which was the best year of my life exactly 365 days ago.

Of course that's really good news until you start thinking about the future. Scratch that. It gets a little scary when I think of today as the start of 2011. How am I going to make 2011 better than 2010?

It's not going to be easy - not that making 2010 a flabbergastingly surprising success was all that easy either. Taking a quick stroll through my blog entries over the past year, I'm still taken back considering I overcame what I did - especially in the fourth quarter.

I sat around today and watched/read interwebs stuff about great athletes and other very accomplished individuals. It only reinforced what I already know about achieving anything. It's not only "not easy," but it's absofuckinglutley grueling in most cases. The process of doing what it takes to make things successful is so much grimier and makes you so much more weary, exhausted and confused than I ever imagined.

That's what makes wins taste so sweet - I guess. Success always felt good, but in order to get really big successes you need to pour endless resources and failures into a bowl with glamorous and enviable ingredients in very careful portions to get it right. And that's before we put it in the oven. Lots of the success has to do w/ luck and trial and error. It also helps when you have good people help guide you. That's what I got in 2010. I had enough remaining talent and the best coaches in the world to help bring me to the majors. That's the biggest accomplishment of 2010. I'm finally eligible to play in the big leagues. Doesn't sound like such a big deal now does it?

Any of the great athletes and people I read about today always did one thing. They had killer numbers at the end of the year. More importantly, they had outstanding numbers when it mattered the most. I did that for the first time this year. I've always worked hard and done my job, but broadening my scope to see the entire field, division and league while learning how to interpret the intertwined web of action and reaction made the difference.

Pretty Much Sums Up My Ski Season

As you know by now (or should know), I'm deploying to Cuba in about two weeks - therefore effectively forfeiting my ski season as it begins. I'll probably get in a total of ten days for the 2010-11 season.

That being said, I couldn't have asked for better conditions than what I got during my five-day trip last week with Lance Rottger, Eric Yates, Rory Clements and Blake Henderson. There are a lot of people I wish I'd seen or seen more of, but I'm in no position to complain.

For the last four seasons, Lance and I have traveled to Lake Tahoe together and never struck less than five feet of fresh snow during our time in there. Last week was no different as we scored about 10 feet of wet, then dry, then rain and finally that perfect snow I've come to love in California. It was so good I bought an extra day in town and got this footage on my new GoPro camera. What an awesome Christmas gift.


One Day in a Five-Day Season from jason tross on Vimeo.

Seven Weeks and Counting

If you hadn't already heard or guessed, Lindsay is pregnant. Seven weeks to be exact and this is what our little "bean" looks like - a mix between an alien and a tadpole but much cuter in that fetal sort of way.

Much like our first time at this, I'll be away for the better portion of Lindsay's pregnancy. Luckily we've both experienced some form of this process while being apart. It's terrifyingly exciting - just as the last few years leading up to this have been. This may be our third trip along this highway, but things are very different. This time they're different in a very good way.

The baby is due what appears to be a couple weeks before I get home from deployment in Cuba.

T-Minus 20 Days Till Deployment

If you don't know already, I'm preparing for a six-month deployment to Naval Base Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. I report for duty January 15, 2011.

I've known about this for about six months now and have been making preparations accordingly. There are a lot of reasons to volunteer for this particular deployment and I could cover them for hours. If you really wanna know why I'm doing it - just give me a ring in the next two weeks. Better yet, hit me up while I'm down there. I'll be restricted to the base the entire time doing public affairs work so I oughtta have some time to write an email or two.

Despite being away from my family for six months (which sucks more than you know), I'm excited to do my job again. I'm a college graduate w/ plenty of experience doing more traditional public relations and public affairs. I think GITMO (as we call it) brings a lot of opportunity to both try something new and reintegrate into the Navy - which has been my plan for nearly a year now.

So let's meet up in the next two weeks if you live west of the Washington Cascades - preferably in the mountains.

Series Sweep

I forgot to follow up about what happened after I blew the first game of what was my first round of playoffs.

I decided to practice - twice as hard.

 The end result was a complete series sweep, having batted a thousand and put up numbers that far exceeded the requirements to win. I essentially did two entire semesters worth of college credit in a week. That's why you couldn't reach me.

And you probably won't be able to reach me any time soon either. This most recent playoff series was just the first. Now it's on to the quarter finals. With each series I complete, I have to up the ante and work that much harder to win. I'm not only out to win this, I'm out to destroy this!

"Talkin' Bout' Practice"

"Not the game..."



I guess that works for Allen Iverson. I wonder if he ditched practice time to catch up w/ friends and family. Probably not. He prolly just didn't feel like going.

"Hey Iverson, you've got one of the best jobs in the world and make an ass-ton of money. The least you can do is make practice dumb ass. Tell your mom you can't talk - and that goes for everyone else too. You have a job to do."

On that note, I skipped practice and blew the game today. Luckily this was the first game of the series. People don't know this, but they could be yelling the my Iverson rant right back at me. Actually they probably should but they likely won't have the chance. That's because I'll be at practice and games for the next two weeks.

So don't feel bad if I don't answer your call, email, voicemail, snailmail or the front door. Adios Facebook. I don't even have time to tell everyone not to take it personal. Just know that it's not.

I Had No Idea

About two weeks into my most recent trip to Asia, flakes started flying around ski areas across the Northern Hemisphere. I, however, was too engulfed in shooting photos and doing Navy public affairs in Southeast Asia to notice.

I caught the occasional Facebook or Twitter update, but it never hit me really - until now.

Now that I'm home there's nothing here that even signifies the start of a ski season the way it has for me over the past seven or eight years. No company or person has sent me anything. There's no waiting for my skis to get here or haggling for my assignments for the year from a magazine.

No "free" skis. No "free" magazines, movies, outerwear, goggles, helmet, under layer, tuning, bindings, mountings, ski passes - no nothing. Matter of fact I'm still hassling to get paid for a story I did last January. Now what?

Conversely, I've checked the weather once so far and only at Government Camp on Mt. Hood, Camp Muir on Mt. Rainier and Steven's Pass. I know it's snowing in the mountains right now but I'm not remotely interested in risking my ankle, nor am I packing up my family and broken car to head for the snow. Hell, I don't even have a pair of fitting ski boots. What happened?

Unwelcome

No matter how much I love about Cambodia, most Cambodian people people will never feel the same about me or the majority of people from my culture. We are human and do very human things. The local Khmers here in Phnom Penh and the foreigner visitors who frequent this place are not exempt. Their (including me now) relationship of tourist vs. local is really just a Khmer and Western version of any resort town across the globe.

My wallet is the only welcome guest here. My skin color makes me an outcast, thanks to the millions of people who've come here and exchanged money w/ the locals - who have in turn come to expect the equivalent of $100/day from any person who appears to be a foreigner. We're all dressed like Sana Claus to them and have simply come to expect we have a sack filled w/ those $100 bills.

This is a stereotype from both myself and the local merchants here in Phnom Penh. Crude and disrespectful Westerners are only matched in numbers by another set of Westerners who stubbornly insist they're "helping" when in fact they haven't the slightest understanding of what their actions will cause. Hence the anti-Western mentality here.

The vast majority of Khmer people here stubbornly insist I am both rich and obligated to pay more than double what they do for just about anything in this city. Part of me takes sympathy on their lifestyle and I want to donate money to help make their lives different. That's not what happens though. Once you donate, you are expected to give - it becomes your obligation.

I often relate to their situation having lived in a resort town as well. The people who visit and feel they bring something to your hometown are the same people who bring their indifference and attitudes and self-inflated views. The only difference is that we lived there by choice and our choice was so we could participate in recreation. Basically - we were voluntarily poor and living in substandard accommodations for the mountains. Yes. That's a very idealistic lifestyle.

Here the people can work their asses off and make the average wage for their area, kind of like me or Lindsay. We certainly don't make what most of our equally educated/experienced peers makes. We don't have the car or house we really want. All I have to do is press rewind and I'm living in a small apartment w/ no kitchen - just a room w/ a bedroom for my family and I w/ cars we cannot afford to keep running to the jobs we can hardly afford to keep and school we can only dream of attending. At that point I definitely looked at people who had good jobs and suitable living conditions and their shitty attitudes w/ resentment toward their sense of entitlement. I never lost that resentment and hope I never do. No one is promised anything - even Americans. I see those same people here at the Raffles. They are disgustingly content w/ what they consider to be suitable accommodations. In fact, this is the best hotel in Cambodia and essentially the Ritz-Carlton in NYC. No one I know will ever afford to stay there. And I have almost nothing in common w/ people who would stay there or here. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for the U.S. Government.

The minimum wage here doesn't buy what it buys in our country. Even though I feel the ratios between living costs and income are very similar, the acceptable standard quality of life here is just far below our own. This is because of a vast social difference between our society and theirs. Smelling sewage here is acceptable. Living multiple people to a room is acceptable here. Riding two adults and two infants on a scooter bike (by the thousands) is acceptable. Pissing in the road is widely accepted. Corruption and bribery are accepted here. Hundreds dying on the roads everyday because traffic rules are both few and not enforced is accepted. As Americans and Westerners, we have a very difficult time accepting these and many other common norms here. Then we also accept being overpaid for our substandard work, being mass consumers, feeling entitled to healthcare, comforts and our ridiculous "hobbies" that cost enough to educate two generations of one Khmer family. Talk about inequality.

This is where my urge to give money to level the playing field comes back in. It doesn't level the playing field. It breeds more entitlement by people either begging or price gouging. This is the micro example and the U.S. is a perfect macro example.

I feel I understand a lot about the dynamic between locals and visitors here and am very empathetic to the Khmers. However, no matter how empathetic I am, I will never truly understand their perspective and they will never understand mine. That's because we're all human. All the things that make us great are what make us terrible and vice versa. It all depends where you're standing.

Hillary and I

We're sharing a hotel and foreign country today. Pleasant surprise.



I'm very interested to learn about her experience at Angkor Wat yesterday vs. my visit last week. What did she think and what kind of affect has Cambodia truly had on her? How much does she know, or actually care, about Cambodia's history and culture. I'm definitely not making assumptions in any direction, but I'm just very curious what her thoughts and feelings are.

What a trip - I have breakfast w/ my boss and discuss a few intellectual topics, politics and my Naval career while the Secretary of State's staff and security detail choke down their breakfast for the next stop on Mrs. Clinton's schedule. This has been a very interesting morning at the Raffles in Phnom Penh.

One thing I can't seem to shake from my mind is wondering what both my (official) and Mrs. Clinton's true roles and affects are here? Why did our mutual boss send us to Cambodia?

Last Night

This is my last night in Sihanoukville, Cambodia. It's also likely my last assignment with the most incredible group of people I've ever worked with - in or out of the Navy. This is the Cooperation Afloat Readiness and Training (CARAT) group assigned to Commander Logistics Group Western Pacific in Singapore.

My first trip with this group was in Pattaya, Thailand last July. That essentially served as my reintegration to the Navy after both a disappointing departure from active duty and subsequent four-year hiatus. I resumed my Navy career simply to bring some much-needed stability and security to myself and my family. Being paid to travel around the world on someone else's dollar and shoot photos of people and culture was just the once-in-a-lifetime bonus. By the end of my first assignment with these folks (two-weeks in Pattaya) I'd done the most exciting and rewarding public affairs work I've ever done in my life and forged some of what would become my most cherished personal and professional relationships. I'd also come to the realization that the Navy and I were even. Then they sent me again this past June - this time to where I am now in Cambodia and then on to Singapore. The changes I've made as a result of my experiences, both personal and professional, have changed my life forever. That's no exaggeration. I fell in love with Southeast Asia (specifically Thailand and now Cambodia).

This most recent trip brought me back to the CARAT group again - this time in the Philippines. I'd never been there and experiencing both the work, the Navy and America's long and fascinating relationship w/ the people there and "living the life" just put things over the top. Then there's this trip.

Things have finally come full circle. When my boss here urged me to consider applying for a direct commission to public affairs officer last year I balked and thought he wasn't serious. Tonight we just finished a very good interview that will serve as the anchor of my application package. Wow. I never saw this coming in 1,000 years, but I'm so glad it happened.

This last night in Sihanoukville will end with a beer and a massage - the same way all of this unbelievably good change began 18 months ago in nearby Thailand.

 Of all the photos I took on all the trips out here with these folks, I never stopped to take a group photo. So far, that's my only regret.

I Got Navy Photo of the Day!

Today was off to a borderline catastrophic start. Then I got photo of the day on www.navy.mil.

I've had this happen a few times - both photo of the day and having a shitty day. Until now, however, I never realized that as of right now and for the next 24 hours, my photo IS what's happening in the Navy right NOW. Everyone who hits that site (which is millions) are seeing my work.

Lastly, I almost didn't get that shot. The Cambodian officers were all attending opening ceremonies on USS Crommelin's flight deck. W/out any warning, they all bolted for the quarterdeck. I had to push like a running back through them to get ahead and across the brow where I didn't even stop to salute or ask for permission to go ashore. I think the officer of the deck was kind of unhappy about that. Needless to say, I got my shot and now my boss is happy - which means I'm happy.

I Got Navy Photo of the Day!

Today was off to a borderline catastrophic start. Then I got photo of the day on www.navy.mil.

I've had this happen a few times - both photo of the day and having a shitty day. Until now, however, I never realized that as of right now and for the next 24 hours, my photo IS what's happening in the Navy right NOW. Everyone who hits that site (which is millions) are seeing my work.

Lastly, I almost didn't get that shot. The Cambodian officers were all attending opening ceremonies on USS Crommelin's flight deck. W/out any warning, they all bolted for the quarterdeck. I had to push like a running back through them to get ahead and across the brow where I didn't even stop to salute or ask for permission to go ashore. I think the officer of the deck was kind of unhappy about that. Needless to say, I got my shot and now my boss is happy - which means I'm happy.

Shoot Me Down

Stop right now!

Stop and think about how fortunate you are and how good your life is and all the things you're working toward. Then think about how fast all of it can and will change. You and I both are more than well-equipped to fuck all of it up. As a matter of fact, we are all but exclusively responsible for all the "getting screwed" that happens to us. I'll admit it.

All the analogies to great athletes and overachievers won't work for this entry. That's because I can't think of a case where the Champ deliberately either hurt himself or risked a match by willingly giving up control of the match or forfeiting strategy and pragmatism. Did Jeter ever deliberately swing strikes on the first two pitches just to make the World Series that much more exciting? Did Jordan ever just hand the ball over to the other team - or better yet score a basket for them?

I did.

The video below is the only one I could find of a fantastic Lil' Wayne song about exactly what I'm thinking about right now. It's not much of a hip hop song so don't be scared by the artist. In fact, I think you'll probably hear what he's saying and relate yourself.