Mike D started out as a coworker, but it didn’t take long before he became a true friend and brother. One memory that always brings a smile happened on a trip to a new tower site in Colorado. We were trying to navigate with a spotty cellphone signal while Mike was driving the rental SUV like the madman he always was. At a fork in the road, the map said go right—so right we went—straight up the side of a mountain on a road that had no business seeing a rental SUV.
We eventually reached the incline of all inclines and the vehicle finally gave up halfway. After a few choice words and Mike calling me a “dumb haole” a couple of times, he asked how we were getting back down. I told him, “Slowly… and in reverse.” He looked at me and said, “You want me to back two miles down this hill?” I said, “Yeah… and if you can’t, I will.”
In true Mike fashion, he grabbed a pack of donuts, started shoving them in his mouth until they were gone, and then slowly and nervously backed that SUV down about half a mile until we could turn around. From that day forward we knew to stay left at that fork, and we named it “Mike D Adachi Road.”
From that point on he hated whenever I’d say, “Mike… go right.”
Mahalo, my brother. I love you, and I’ll carry those memories with me always.