Categories: all aviation Building a Biplane bicycle gadgets misc motorcycle theater

Sun, 23 Dec 2007

Yep, definitely too much free time

That's right, some mad coincidence of fate and vacation time (and the fact that there's really nothing else to do) has allowed me to labor over my longest and most intensive CL175 video to date:

I kinda wish I'd had more time, but the 10 minute YouTube limit reigned me in. At the same time, it wasn't quite two episodes' worth of material. Still, I think it's neat to see film of building up a new wheel.

Posted at 17:14 permanent link category: /motorcycle


Sat, 22 Dec 2007

I must have had some free time...

Improbably, I have the fifth video in the CL175 series posted:

Ah, the many joys of knowing you don't have to go back to work for a week or two... 1:30 in the morning? Who cares! At this rate, I'll have two more installments up before I get back to the daily grind.

Posted at 01:27 permanent link category: /motorcycle


Tue, 18 Dec 2007

How not to do it

So, if you've been paying any attention at all, you'll be aware that I'm getting ready to race next year. Rather than leave it all to the last minute, I registered this week. It'd be really unfortunate to leave it and find that I was too late to get into the various classes necessary to get a race license.

I cruised over to the WMRRA New Racer page, and read through the whole thing. Ok, that all makes sense, I thought to myself. I was raring and ready to go, so I downloaded the application form, and started reading over it.

That's when things got a little unhappy. On the web page, it's plainly spelled out that there's a $50 fee, which covers the class and your membership in WMRRA. That's cool. But on the form I downloaded, there was no mention of $50. Instead, there was a $110 choice, and a $60 choice. If you're quick with your subtraction, you'll see that there's a $50 difference between those numbers, so fifty dollars was somehow involved, but not explicitly.

This got me grumpy. I don't like to be told one thing in one place, and a completely different thing in another place. If they'd just said right up front, "Send us $110, and we'll get started," I would have been perfectly happy. Instead, the website says:

NRS Classroom Session

The cost of the NRS classroom session is $50. This also includes your WMRRA membership fee.

NRS On-Track Segment

The costs of the NRS on-track segment can be found by visiting the websites for the WMRRA approved NRS on-track providers; 2-Fast or Sullivan Race School

Then, once all the apparently-pertinent information has been divulged, you get:

After passing both the classroom & on-track segments, you may purchase your Novice Race License for $60. An added benefit of WMRRA membership is that many local motorcycle shops offer discounts to WMRRA racers.

Naturally, my mind skipped right past this paragraph. Ok, that's my fault, but the wording is pretty clear: send us $50 and this application to take the class.

The application, then, details two possible fees: $110 for the class and your race license, or $60 for the license only. Ok, so there's no option for membership only? No option for "just the class please?" It's just sloppiness, but it's the kind of sloppiness that immediately raises my ire.

I got over that, although it still bugs me.

Then, I went on to the track sessions, once they were announced. This year, WMRRA is doing a new thing, and has outsourced their track school sessions, to 2-Fast, and Sullivan Racing School. I'd worked with 2-Fast before, and although I wasn't charmed with their organizational abilities, they were good enough, and once I'd cut through the crap, they were good at what they were doing. I looked up their offering.

Ah, good, I thought, March 19th. Excellent timing, just 10 days after the classroom time. Then I saw the price. $289. Ok, that's more than I paid for my track day with instruction last year, and, much more importantly, when Jesse did his track class for the race license, it was either $100 or $150. I'm not here to help you out with profiteering!

I looked up the Sullivan prices: look, I get two choices! $300, or $325! Fantastic. This whole thing is totally shaping up to be a ton cheaper than just doing track days. Sure is.

So, I'm signed up with 2-Fast, because I'm too far down the path to be deterred by an extra hundred bucks I wasn't expecting. I do, however, reserve the right to be supremely annoyed, and gripe on at least a solid handful of occasions. And if the 2-Fast school is less than stellar, turn on your naughty-word filters before you read the journal entry following that event...

Posted at 11:37 permanent link category: /motorcycle


Mon, 17 Dec 2007

Video the fourth

Posted at 08:43 permanent link category: /motorcycle


Sun, 16 Dec 2007

Hee

If you like motorcycles and/or video games and haven't yet tried Tourist Trophy, you owe it to yourself to give it a try.

I was randomly playing around with the "Grand Valley Speedway" track, which is a relatively curvy track, with a straightaway. Just out of curiosty, I tried out a few different bikes, to see what kind of time I could turn in with one lap.

Yamaha MT01 (88 HP, 240 kg, .366 hp/kg): 2' 25"

Suzuki Hayabusa (172 HP, 217 kg, .793 hp/kg): 2' 22"

Yamaha TZ125 (43 HP, 72 kg, .597 hp/kg): 2' 18"

I love that my fastest time was on the tiniest bike in the whole game. To be fair, it also has a fabulous power to weight ratio, but it's still funny.

All these people all worked up about getting the biggest bike they can. Of course, this isn't real life, they're not real bikes, and track riding is vastly different from riding on the street. Still. Funny.

(And as a PS, I just turned in a 2' 25" lap on the CB400SS, which is probably my favorite bike in the whole game; it's only 31 HP and 127 kg, for .244 hp/kg, but it's most like what I'll actually be riding around a real track next year.)

Posted at 00:48 permanent link category: /motorcycle


Sat, 15 Dec 2007

Oh. Huh. Yeah, that might be a problem.

I've been trying to track down this lack of power problem with my new/old motorcycle. It feels exactly like it's running out of fuel -- it just kind of runs out of steam, like it's an old man who's done a sprint, but that's all he's got in him.

So I've been tracking down the path of carburetion. It feels like a carburetion problem, like it's running out of gas. Obviously, if you run out of gas, you can't make power. Duh.

To that end, I rebuilt and replaced everything in the carburetion path that I could get my hands on. It's all shiny and new. So I went out last night to check it out, and... yeah, it's exactly the same. What's weird is that it's exactly the same problem. I made all these changes to the carburetion system, and it's still exactly the same?

So I sent a quietly desperate message to the F-160 mailing list last night, detailing my problem. I got some good suggestions back, and started going through them one by one.

The two big ones that I hadn't already tried were to test compression, and check the spark plug caps/wires. Since the compression test would be easier to do, I started with that one.

Test one, on the left cylinder: 110ish PSI. Hmm. Seemed a bit low, but I moved to the other side, since the real test is whether there's a big difference between the cylinders. Hmm. 90ish PSI. That's... well, it's not the 25% danger limit, but 90 PSI seems really low. So I checked the book.

I was just glancing over the Compression Test procedure as outlined. I spied a number, and started reading:

...For example, on the first kick the gauge might indicate 90 psi; teh second kick, 140 psi; the third kick, 160 psi, etc.

Woah. Back up there. 90 PSI on the first kick? Whaaa? Something is clearly wrong here. So I skipped a little, and read:

Normal compression pressure at sea level will be about 140-170 psi, decreasing with altitude.

Oh, hmm. That doesn't sound good. And I'm basically at sea level, so... I guess... Yep, I guess the engine's coming apart.

So, it looks like the CL project is on hold until January. I'm not about to launch into dismantling an engine with the holidays looming as they do.

Ultimately, I can't be too upset about this (and I'm not, just a little disappointed). I knew what I was doing when I bought a 36 year old motorcycle. There was a pretty reasonable chance that I'd need to rebuild the engine, even with low mileage. Fortunately, this engine is pretty simple to rebuild. Good thing I'm not trying to do this with a modern 4 cylinder engine, they're so complex I probably wouldn't try.

Posted at 12:22 permanent link category: /motorcycle


Sat, 08 Dec 2007

"On a lark"

If you've ever worked on an old vehicle (or really anything complex that's been out of production for a long time), you've doubtless encountered that point where you really just need a new part, and you have no idea how you're going to get that part.

I hit that point yesterday -- I managed to partially crush one of the floats in my carburetor. This is a sort of brass bauble which is shaped like a pair of round, lenticular pills scaled up until they're bigger than a quarter, connected together by an ornate bar. Each float in the pair is made out of very thin brass sheet, soldered together. It didn't take much pressure to crush the one.

As I yanked my fingers away from the damaged part, several thoughts cross my mind, none of which are suitable for a family-friendly journal such as this. After I calmed down a little, the thought crossed my mind, "Where am I going to get a replacement float?"

I could probably repair it. It comes in two pieces, and could at least in theory be popped apart by the application of a bunch of heat and the removal of a bunch of solder. Popping it back into shape then would be a simple matter, but the act of desoldering and resoldering the float doesn't actually sound that simple, and things usually turn out to be much more difficult than I think they will be.

There's a local 160 racing guy, Tim, who has a couple sheds packed to the ceilings with 160 and 175 parts. He'd probably have a float for me. There's a local motorcycle junkyard that might have something for cheap, and there's another which might have something for far too much money.

I joined Jesse today for a ride up to Cycle Barn. The expensive junkyard, Bent Bike, is on the way, so we stopped in. The guy behind the counter thought he might have a CL175 carburetor he could sell me, but not just a float. The carb, he said, would be about $60. Ouch. I passed, deciding I'd call Tim later.

We got to Cycle Barn, which is a huge multi-brand dealership with extremely sketchy salesmen, but usually friendly and helpful parts and accessories folks. One of their brands is Honda, so while Jesse went over to check out helmets, I drifted towards the parts counter.

One of the parts guys said, "How can I help you?"

"Well," said I, "I'm wondering if you can still get parts for a 1972 Honda."

He looked at me not quite like I'd just asked for a day-old dead fish. Instead of saying what was doubtless running through his mind, he said, "Let's see," and started typing on his computer. After a moment, he asked which model, and I told him what I was looking for. The dead fish look came back, but was quickly squelched.

While Guy #1 was typing away, Guy #2 looked over at me, and said, "Oh yeah, is that one of those Scramblers? I had one, a '68 or a '69. I loved that bike." Guys #3 and #4 looked on as if we were speaking Martian. Did they really make motorcycles in 1972? their faces seemed to say. That's so much older than me that it doesn't even make sense, their faces eloquently continued. Undeterred, I looked back at Guy #1, who had apparently located something.

With a look of surprise on his face, he said, "Um, yeah. Actually, there are 5 of them in California. I can have them here by Thursday."

I boggled. Was he seriously suggesting that Honda is still making (or at least stocking) weird incidental parts for a 36 year old motorcycle? "Um," I said eloquently. "Um. How much do they cost?" I was expecting the worst. Honda (literally) charges $1200 for the exhaust system of a 1982 Goldwing, although they no longer sell major chunks of it. But if they did, they'd charge you $1200 for it. I expected to hear, "Oh, it says here they're $150 each, but I can sell them to you for $100 each." 'Cause we're all pals, right?

He glanced down at his screen, and said, "$23.65 each." Our eyes met across the top of his stylishly out of date LCD flat panel monitor. "Huh," I said, wondering when he was going to add the one onto the front of the number.

With no extra digits forthcoming, I dithered for a moment, then said, "I'll take two." After all, you never know: those 5 floats might be the last five Honda will ever ship to North America. Who would have guessed I could actually get these things brand new, from a dealer?

Posted at 20:52 permanent link category: /motorcycle


Fri, 07 Dec 2007

The old fashioned, down-home jettin' blues

Jetting a carburetor, for all intents and purposes, sucks.

That's where the CL175 is now. I've tackled the big, gross problems, and I'm starting to move onto the smaller, subtler problems. In this case, jetting.

When I rode the bike into work a few weeks ago, it was fine, but I noticed it seemed to lack power going up a hill. Other than that, it was ok, and I figured maybe I was just getting used to it. Then I started riding it with a more critical eye toward the problem, and discovered that it was losing power at full throttle. Not just "You're riding a wimpy bike" losing power, but obviously "This bike should be making more power, but something's holding it back."

So, with a bit more research, I decided that it must have a fuel flow problem. It felt exactly as if it could sustain full throttle for a moment, but then it would run out of power, as if gas just wasn't arriving at the carburetor fast enough. If I let the throttle go, so that it was using practically no fuel, I could get another momentary burst of full throttle before it went all feeble again.

I pulled off the tank, and rattled around a length of chain inside it, trying to knock all the rust off. I flushed it with gasoline, through a series of coffee filters until there was nothing else showing up (and got a goodly collection of rust flakes and crud in the process). I pulled the petcock and carefully cleaned it out and blew compressed air through every passageway, although it was already pretty much spotless. I pulled off the carburetors, and checked the float height, which seemed to be spot on.

After all that, I went and rode it. It was, if anything, worse than before. I don't know if my expectations changed, or if the carburetion got even worse, but it was just terrible now. It'd run at a cruising speed and with mild acceleration, but anything close to full acceleration sapped its strength something fierce.

So, tonight, I pulled off the carbs and cleaned them thoroughly, getting off all the crud and making everything as beautiful as possible. I unclogged jets, and set float levels properly, and did everything. I even fixed a pinhole leak in one of the floats (although I also dented it, so that was definitely a "one step forward, two steps back" kind of operation). After all that, I went out and rode it up and down the block, and.... The exact same problem.

So now, I'm kind of stumped. It's acting exactly as if it's running out of fuel, but I've done everything I can to make sure it's not (even including filling up the tank). If I run it much more like this, I'm going to damage the engine from running too lean.

I've got a couple of carb rebuild kits on the way, but I don't think they'll solve anything -- the wear and damage in the current parts should be making it run too rich, if anything. The adjustments I've made should also be aiming it much more at the "too rich" side of things, yet it persists in running too lean.

When it has fuel, it runs really well (so I think the jetting is actually about right), but all too quickly, it seems to run out of fuel in the float bowls, and the game's all over. Very, very frustrating.

Posted at 09:14 permanent link category: /motorcycle


Thu, 06 Dec 2007

The Great Flood of Aught-Seven!

You may have been aware that this last weekend, there was record rainfall in the Pacific Northwest. In fact, we got just over 5 inches of rain in a 24 hour period on Monday. It was gushing.

In my house, where I've lived since mid-2000, the most dampness I've ever seen in the basement was a thimble's worth of water after a ridiculously heavy rainstorm. The garage occasionally gets a little water across the floor, but it's never very bad. So, I really wasn't that worried, since at the time, it was just heavy rain, not "record rainfall."

On Monday, I was scheduled to fly to San Jose for business. I would fly out in the afternoon, so I packed up my bags the night before, and headed out Monday morning to load up the Xtracycle. It was raining hard, which I was glad of, since it had cleared up any chance of the snow from Saturday being an issue on the bike.

I opened the door to the garage, and was greeted by the sight of 75% of the floor sitting under a half inch of water. Not a big deal, really, since there's very little in the garage that can be damaged by water. I kind of giggled about it, just because it was so unusual. I picked up a few things I'd rather not soak in water (because they might rust), and loaded the bike. The bags got wrapped in plastic bags, and I was fully kitted out in my rain cape and spats.

It was a wet ride in to work, but amazingly, I arrived with only the faintest dampness about me, and my bags totally dry. I was pretty pleased about that.

However, as the day wore on, I found myself worrying more and more about the basement of my house, which I'd neglected to check before I left in the morning -- I had just installed new carpet earlier this year to "help sell the house," and there were a bunch of boxes stacked up waiting to be unpacked. Finally, at lunch time, I couldn't bear the uncertainty: could I really fly to San Jose for half a week when my house might be knee-deep in water? Answer: no. So I borrowed Kristin's car, and drove up to the house.

I walked in, and thought, "Well, the upstairs doesn't look particularly damp," figuring I'd at least see some condensation on the windows if there were really water in the basement. Of course, by my clever, bludgeon-like foreshadowing, you know what I found.

The basement was indeed wet. Far wetter than I had ever expected, but not particularly "flooded." The carpet was sopping wet, but there was only about a square foot of carpet where I could see actual standing water. With far more under-the-breath swearing than was strictly necessary, I set about getting all the boxes up off the ground. I had one of those wire baker's racks sitting disassembled nearby, so the shelves became spacers to keep boxes off the wet carpet. Other boxes were moved to drier parts of the basement -- the water seemed to be coming in at one corner, and spreading from there.

My new storage room (full up with shelves) was fortunately dry, so at least I didn't have to move stuff in there. So was the to-be music room, although I still picked up the various instruments and put them on tables and chairs. The only thing worse than a German plywood cello would be a sopping wet German plywood cello (in my cello's defense, I really like the tone of it, it's just made with the wrong glue).

Having run out of wire shelves, I clumsily unfolded the clever folding ladder I have, and laid it out on the ground so I could stack boxes on it. This was actually much harder than I make it sound, since I foolishly first tried to unfold it in a room which was too small, and had to (after numerous grunting, swearing false starts) fold it back up and move it out to the big central room of the basement. I finally got it folded out, and boxes set up on it.

I now had all the boxes off the wet carpet, but the carpet was still soaking wet. I ran out to the garage, and grabbed the shop vac (a 10-gallon model -- this will be important later), which can safely vacuum up water. I even managed to locate the "squeegee attachment" to the shop vac, which I'd decided long ago I'd never use. Hah!

Then it was down to the squishy carpet. Earmuffs on. Vacuum power, and suck! I probably spent an hour energetically squeegee-ing the carpet with the vacuum running, and managed to make a visible difference in the carpet -- I got it several shades lighter, and by the time I was done, it was much better. Still wet to the touch, but no longer making squish-squish noises as I walked on it. I was sweating up a storm between the squeegee action and the warm, humid environment, but I'd made good progress. I emptied out the 2-3 gallons I'd sucked up, and mentally prepared a journal post about the huge, anticlimactic Great Flood of Aught-Seven. Time to go back to work!

Back to work I went. Finally finishing up around 7, I headed back home. I'd cancelled the trip to San Jose, even though it looked like I'd solved the immediate problem. I figured I still needed to unpack the dampened boxes to prevent mold, and although I had a bunch of fans running over the carpet at home, I really wanted to get a heater to put down there to help accelerate the drying.

I checked on the basement once I got home, and it looked much as I'd left it. I hopped in the awful minivan and headed to the store to get an electric heater. I wanted one for the garage anyway, so I didn't mind spending the twenty bucks.

I got home from my shopping trip, heater in hand, and unpacked the little metal appliance. I traipsed down the stairs, ready to plug it in and start unpacking boxes. Imagine my surprise when I turned on the light downstairs to discover a huge patch of standing water!

More cursing. Earmuffs. Squish-squish over to the vacuum, plug it back in. Power. Suck! I will say this: sucking up standing water is much more gratifying -- you can see the results immediately. Every 10 or 20 minutes, I'd lug the half-full body of the vacuum out to the back yard and dump it out toward the drainage ditch beyond the fence.

From 8:30 that night until midnight, I spent 15 of every 30 minutes sucking up water in the basement. Well, I took a break, but not a good one...

I decided to look outside, and see what kind of awful puddle must be leaning against the foundation to produce such a copious flow of water. I got out there, and found... nothing. Well, not exactly nothing, but no visible water. I found a bizarre 3" concrete pipe poking up out of the ground, broken off many years ago at an angle. I shone a flashlight into the pipe, and saw water. Hmm... I looked again. In fact, that water was moving... Hmmm!

I trudged back inside, threw an extension cord out a nearby window, and lugged the shop-vac down to the little pipe. Earmuffs. Power. Suck! With a little jiggling, I was able to get all of the vacuum hose, some light, and some vision down the pipe, and I could see that I was making progress, removing some of the water from whatever it was (I later determined with the help of my dad that it was probably a perimeter drain). At this point, the vacuum seemed to get less effective. It occurred to me that it might be full, so I turned it off, and checked. Sure enough.

Now, allow me to paint a picture for you. It's about 10 pm, dark, with rain that changes between persistent drizzle and torrential downpour about as fast as a kid with ADD switches video games. I'm standing in the five-foot-wide strip of land that separates my house from the next house to the north. The ground is uneven, with some clever previous owner of my house having stacked up low piles of paving stones near the house, which have since become covered over with grass and weeds. There is a 5" tall, 1" diameter stump where my neighbor cut off some aspiring tree, right in the middle of the obvious path down the middle of the strip. My exit from this strip of ankle-twisters is a narrow passageway between my deck and a prickly holly tree, perhaps three feet wide.

I'm standing there, probably steaming slightly in the rain, looking down at the body of a 10 gallon shop-vac, which is full of drecky water I just sucked out of a mysterious hole in the ground next to my house. Water weighs about 8 pounds per gallon. And it sloshes. Yes, I now have to carry an 80 pound, sloshing vat of disgusting water through this dark minefield. I could dump it right there, oh yes, but it would just soak into my basement, or the basement of the next house (which is much deeper than mine). The only choice seemed to be to lug this awful, heavy thing out to the street and dump it there, far from houses.

So, I did. It was about as awful as you can imagine. I only sloshed evil on myself once, and managed to not break any bones in the process, but there were a couple of iffy moments. I did the same thing several more times, but at least I was clever enough to not fill the vacuum completely full, afterwards. 40 pounds of water is much easier to carry. I found that my stopping point was pointed out when the vacuum started blowing a billowing jet of steam. That seemed like a bad thing, so I'd switch it off and go empty the bucket.

I did a few more rounds of this before it became clear that I was attempting to vacuum up all groundwater, 5 gallons at a time. It wasn't a winning proposition, so I went back inside to deal with the stuff that got past my foundation wall. Some time around 10:45, I took a break to eat a quick dinner.

By the time midnight rolled around, the incoming water seemed to have dropped off, and by 12:30 I was feeling confident enough that I could go to bed without awaking to find a foot of water in the basement.

Tuesday was better. I spent an hour in the morning, slowly running the vacuum over sections of carpet. There's a magic angle, at which the vacuum head is really effective (I assume this is the angle where the opening is flat on the ground, so the only way to get air in is via the carpet). Using the magic angle, I was again able to get the carpet shades lighter, but it was slow, uncomfortable work, since it also required that I put weight on the end of the vacuum, which had me bending over in an awkward posture.

I'd have to stop after 5-7 minutes of vacuuming, as the air outlet would start spitting droplets of water that were making it past the filter, although it didn't start steaming again. Tuesday night saw an encore performance with the vacuum, but I knocked off after a couple minutes, since I wasn't really collecting any water to speak of.

That is, so far, the end of the story. Between the fans and the heater, the carpet is now dry to the touch, and I was confident enough this morning that I switched off the heater, although I left the fans running. I unpacked a couple of boxes last night, but apparently I acted fast enough, and everything inside was dry. If we get more record-breaking rain, I'll see more water in the basement, but it's apparent that I don't have to worry about lots of water. I am going to be contacting a contractor about the perimeter drain and waterproofing the foundation.

Considering the awful damage that these storms wrought elsewhere around the state, I got off very lightly. I-5 is still closed, with 6-7 feet of water over the road surface at Chehalis. Countless thousands of basements are under many feet of water. There are no sump pumps to be found in any retail outlet or rental agency anywhere in Seattle, or presumably most other places in the state. So my carpet got damp, big deal!

At least, in the end, it makes for an interesting story....

Posted at 11:19 permanent link category: /misc


Mon, 03 Dec 2007

News flash: Ian uploads third boring video!

It's true. I finished another video on the CL175:

And there's more to come! So, for all 2 of my 10 readers who might enjoy hearing about the repair of an ancient motorcycle, stay tuned!

Posted at 08:27 permanent link category: /motorcycle


Sun, 02 Dec 2007

Young Milos in snow

Milos, Kristin's kitty, was fascinated by the weird white stuff falling outside:

Young Milos and his first snowfall

Milos observes snow

Posted at 10:02 permanent link category: /misc


Sat, 01 Dec 2007

Motorcycle show report

I just got back from the Seattle Motorcycle Show, and figured I'd write up the interesting stuff.


It's huge!

I don't know what he's looking at

2008 Ninja 250 instrument panel

Jesse and I rode down together. There was a forecast for snow, but it didn't look like it'd really happen, and we got down to the exhibition center without incident. We went in, and almost immediately met some of Jesse's friends near the front door. I went to drop off my riding gear at the gear check, and caught up with them a few minutes later.


My old (2001) Ninja 250

Me on the new (2008) Ninja 250

My primary goal for this show was to see the new Ninja 250. If you're not familiar with it, the Ninja 250 is a bike that was originally designed in the late eighties, and had literally not been touched since then, except for paint. That changed this year, when they finally announced a newer version for 2008. It was a really big deal in the Ninja 250 community, since some people figured they'd never change it, just removing it from the lineup if they made any change, and others excitedly whispered rumors every year, "I hear they're going to change the 250 this year! Should I hold off for the new model year?"

So, they finally did it. The bike now looks like any other modern sport bike, although if you look closely, it's got little differences. There's only one front brake (most bigger bikes have two); the rear tire's awfully skinny; the forks look kind of spindly. Little stuff like that. But the overall effect of the new styling is that it's very modern looking.

I had brought my camera, to take pictures of it, only I couldn't really get a clear shot. There was always a little crowd around the bike -- it was surprisingly popular. Lots of people were sitting on it, and making comments like, "Oh, it's actually comfortable, my hands aren't down by my knees!" or "Hey, you can flat-foot it!" With the new styling (and it's really only styling, with the frame and most major components remaining very nearly the same as the older model), it's newly attractive, but hasn't lost a lot of the good stuff from the older version.


Crowd

Crowd

Crowd

I did eventually get some pictures. I focused on the "Kawasaki Green" model because I figured it was the only one they brought. I found Jesse a moment later, and asked him to take a picture of me with my new bike (although I won't be getting one -- I like the 2006 model I already have too much). Then I realized he was standing in front of a red Ninja 250. And hey, there was a black one over there! When I finally moved on, I even saw that they'd put a blue Ninja 250 in their elevated podium, an honor only shared by their ZX-6R, one of the 600cc supersport bikes that's redesigned every two years. Kawasaki are taking this Ninja 250 thing much more seriously than I had expected them to.

I wandered on, but I wasn't much interested in any of the other big displays. Happening idly past the Honda display, my eye was caught by a strangely familiar bike. After a moment, I realized it was a Nighthawk 250, and went over to take some pictures. The Nighthawk 250 is, at least in theory, a contender with the Ninja 250, but you'd be hard pressed to find anyone who's actually ridden both who'd agree with that sentiment. They're vastly different bikes, with the Nighthawk losing on almost every important point.


2008 Nighthawk 250

1972 CL175

So, why was it strangely familiar? It looked a lot like the CL175 I've been working on. That is to say, the 1972 Honda CL175 I have, and the 2008 Honda Nighthawk 250 (aka CB250) share a striking resemblance in some important details. Put another way, Honda is still hawking the same technology in 2008 that they were in 1972. That's 36 years, and none too flattering on Honda. Drum brakes: the 72 bike has better drum brakes in front than the 08 bike does, with a larger drum and double leading shoes vs. what appears to be a single leading shoe. Frame: I actually suspect I could pull the engine out of the CL175 and it would fit into the CB250 frame. They're that similar. The engine looked nearly identical. The major improvement I spotted was that the clutch engagement lever on the engine is now mounted out where it's easy to get to. To be fair, the CL175 has an excellent engine, pulling strongly even in a 35 year old example, so that wasn't necessarily a bad choice on Honda's part.


2008 front brake

1972 front brake

2008 rear brake

1972 rear brake

Still, there was an air of surreality as I took close-up pictures of this new-production bike that shared so many elements with a motorcycle that's older than I am.

I wandered away, shaking my head at Honda's insistence on selling this bike, still for more money than the refreshed and newly more expensive Ninja 250.

I wandered the aisles of glitz and glamor for a while, and was considering leaving when I noticed the "Extra exhibits" banner hanging near the back. I headed back, and discovered what I'd been looking for: all the small booths. I wanted to check in with Seattle Cycle Center to see if they had any swingarm spools, since I want to add them to the CL175 for racing.

I got to the SCC booth, and looked around. Didn't look likely, they really only had bigger stuff there, clothing and luggage and helmets. I was about to wander on when my eye was caught by a stand supporting a variety of leather racing suits. Hmm! I'd be needing a racing suit, and had already determined that they carried one I'd like. I examined their selection.


Racing suits!

$100 off racing suits!

One of the sales vultures swooped down on me as soon as I'd rested my eyes on the suits for more than 5 seconds. "Can I help you with anything?"

"Yes," I said, my eye still on the Power Rangers looking thing in front of me, "I'd like to try on one of these suits."

"No problem, just give me your license, and I'll hold that while you try it on."

"Even though I have to get down to my skivvies?"

"Yep, there's a bathroom just over there. Don't forget to collect your license when you get back, I've had more than one person accidentally leave theirs with me."

So I grabbed the suit in the most likely size, and headed for the bathroom. I ended up having to wait about 10 minutes before the one large stall was free. I ducked in, and was quickly kitted out in the finest superhero suit money can buy, but it was too tight. A problem I never thought I'd have cropped up: I'm too muscular. The thighs of that particular size suit were too small for my bikey legs. Weird. It happened that it was also too short in the arms, and a little too small in the torso, so I peeled it off, and went back.

I was able to get the special deal ($100 off) on an ordered suit as well as what they had in stock, so I ordered the next size up (having already tried on the size beyond that and finding it too large) in silver, which looks like the color scheme least likely to absolutely bake me in the summer sun. It was expensive, but nowhere near what I'd feared: I figured a quality suit would run me $800-1200 dollars, but this was only $460 after tax. What a deal.

I tried to think if there was anything else I had to have, and decided there wasn't, so I kept up my circuit of the small booths. Lots of cruiser stuff, lots of "custom bike" stuff, with showy paint jobs and massively wide rear tires, but nothing that particularly appealed to me.

I made my way upstairs, past the rows of show bikes. There were some interesting ones, but one of the most interesting was a 125cc city bike with an ornate sidecar attached, apparently a common sight in the Phillipenes. I also spotted a motorcycle simulator that actually looked pretty cool at a Motorcycle Safety Foundation booth. I didn't stop long enough to try it out, though, since my feet were getting tired, and I was thinking about leaving.


Suzuki 125cc with hand-built stainless steel sidecar

Sidecar view

MSF motorcycle simulator

I went back downstairs, on my way to retrieve my riding gear, when my phone rang. It was Jesse, who'd found some exciting news about a helmet he mentioned a while ago: it used to be a Japan-only model, but they're actually going to start importing them next year. He'd been considering buying one from a Japanese Ebay seller, but hadn't quite made the decision a while ago. We agreed to meet up, and I found him a few minutes later.

I showed him the suit I'll be getting, and he was suitably (ahem) impressed. He wanted to find a jacket they'd had previously, to see if it was on sale. Following him, I spotted the back protectors (basically a fancy pad and system of interlocking plates to protect your spine in a fall -- also required by racing rules), and ended up getting the fanciest one they had.

My downfall, if it can be called that, when buying safety gear is that I only have to imagine the moment after I spring up from a fall, saying to myself, "Man, I'm glad I didn't get the el-cheapo [whatever]" and I find myself buying the best I can find. I guess, for the difference of $40, I'd rather get the best one. I'm sure the one I got (a Knox) isn't the best there is, but I also won't be riding at 180 MPH, so I don't need the super-duper racing version.

Business essentially concluded, I found Jesse, and we walked back to the gear check. I commented that I'd certainly spent my money -- I'd expected to maybe blow $20 on some swingarm spools, and ended up walking out with my wallet nearly $600 lighter between the suit, back protector, and subscription to the one motorcycle magazine I actually like (Motorcycle Consumer News). Still, it's all stuff I knew I was going to buy sooner or later, and it's usually cheaper at the show, so I ended up saving money on all of it. He was disappointed he hadn't spent any money -- all of the things he'd been looking for were either not there, or so close to the normal price as to be worth buying elsewhere.

We got to the gear check, and I retrieved my helmet and suit. Jesse tapped my shoulder, and pointed outside. It was snowing, hard.


Snow!

Lots of snow!

I'm sure you can imagine that on a motorcycle (or a bicycle, or even on two feet), any lack of traction can put you on the ground in a hurry. We'd both been concerned about the snow forecast, and it certainly came to pass. I bid Jesse farewell, and we headed to our bikes. Although it was snowing pretty hard, it wasn't sticking to the ground, so that was at least positive.

I clambered aboard my little mount (having ridden the Ninja 250 in to the show), and made my way out into the wide, white world.

The ride home was thankfully uneventful, but I spent a lot of time wiping the snow off my visor. As I passed the Seattle Cycle Center building on Aurora, I heard my name. I looked over, and spotted Ryan, one of the people who works there, and who must have been manning the store while most of its contents were down in South Seattle. I waved at him, and he held his arms out at me in a, "Whatta you doin'?!" gesture. I shrugged, then shouted back, "I had to go to the show!" He replied, "Be careful!" and I waved as I pulled away with traffic.


That's the bike slipping sideways

Poor, snow-covered Ninja 250

Poor, snow-covered Ian, making a weird face

The final half block to my house was the only part of the road where I actually saw any snow sticking, so I clicked on my hazard blinkers (I'm really glad I made that modification) and rode very slowly down the darker tire track through the snow. I pulled in front of my garage very carefully, as the bike slid an inch sideways coming down off the asphalt and onto the gravel at the side of the road. When I got into the garage, I realized that there was snow caked onto my riding suit, and spent a minute or two shaking, jumping around, and generally spazzing, trying to get it all off. I ended up leaving the suit in the tub, as the only place in the house that was sufficiently waterproof to let it dry off.

As I write this, there's a good solid two inches of snow on the deck, and my tracks from coming in are almost gone. The weather's supposed to warm up by 20 degrees or something tomorrow, so as usual, the Seattle Snow will be gone within 24 hours. At least it's very pretty right now.

If you'd like to see the other pictures I took, hit up the gallery.

Posted at 16:21 permanent link category: /motorcycle


Wed, 28 Nov 2007

Bonus update

And I didn't die! Considering all the possible scenarios, that was an absolutely problem-free commute into work on the new/old bike.

Notes for the future: jetting is wrong at mid and full throttle; probably too lean. Rear brake needs to be adjusted. Check play in the steering head bearings, might be a touch loose.

Posted at 09:13 permanent link category: /motorcycle


The fateful day

I believe the CL175 is finally in good enough shape to ride to work. Cue dramatic music

I got the new wheel set up this weekend, and last night I finally fixed the headlight to a condition safe enough for street use. With that, I've addressed every one of my initial complaints as listed in the servicelog.

Must be time to ride to work, and see what I've missed!

Posted at 08:11 permanent link category: /motorcycle


Mon, 26 Nov 2007

Of front wheels and headlight switches

The CL175 is steadily improving (well, "steadily" if you ignore the pause for Thanksgiving, anyway).

I got the new front wheel laced up and tensioned last week, and spent last night repeatedly levering the tire onto and off the wheel as I realized I forgot various important steps. Fortunately, it was much easier than the last time I'd tried, thanks to a hint from Jesse: tires are easier to work with when they're warm. So I set the tire in front of a heat register inside. Truly, that made a huge difference.

Finally, by 10:30, I had the front tire all set up and mounted. I gave it a spin, and although it's much straighter than it was, there's still a curious lump that you can see when you spin the tire. It's there whether it's inflated or not, so I'm finally sure it's not the tube binding inside the tire. However, with the newly straight front wheel, it's much better, and looks like I won't have major problems riding on it.

The new wheel, by the way, looks fabulous. I went from awful, dull, rusty spokes and a spotty, bent rim to a much cleaner, straighter rim, and brand new looking shiny chromed spokes. I even spent a few minutes cleaning up the outside of the brakes with one of those green scratchy pads. It's a huge improvement, and along with the front brake work, makes the front wheel one of the best parts on the bike.

I now only have one major impediment to riding the bike on the street: the headlight switch. It's very intermittent, such that the headlight is only on a very small percentage of the time, and that happens pretty much at random. That's not acceptable for street use, so that's my next task. I'm hopeful that it's just a matter of cleaning up the contacts and lubricating all the bits. I took a look at it earlier, but didn't really commit to cleaning it up at the time.

So, if I can get that cleaned up, and clamp a hose to the crankcase breather (which has been blowing oily mist at the underside of the gas tank for a while, judging by the sludge to be found there), it'll be ready to start riding. Then I can start finding the real problems. Whee!

Posted at 12:40 permanent link category: /motorcycle


Thu, 22 Nov 2007

Ze novel, she eez feeneesh!

That title pretty much says it all. I turned in the last 4673 words today, thereby completing the first draft of my latest novel, Hybrids (working title).

There were no particularly tough writing spots, but the conceptual leap I had to make as things started breaking down was extensive and difficult, including a couple nights' worth of weird, troubling dreams.

The final word count, according to the word counter used among my friends (The Only Count That Matters) is 77,633 words. That includes some extraneous stuff, such as parenthetical notes to myself about how things should go, or be fixed, or whatever, but those notes probably make up less than 200 words grand total.

As seems to be usual with me, I end the novel in the "wide open for a sequel" style, but of course I'll tell you little more than that, so as not to ruin the surprise. One of my enterprising fans has been reading every installment the next morning, and had made encouraging comments as I went along. Of course, this fan is my mother, so it's not altogether unexpected to get encouraging comments.

Last year, at this point, I turned around and started assiduously editing the completed draft. I don't know if I'm going to do that or not, at least not tomorrow. Tomorrow, being the day after Thanksgiving, may be given over to some kind of craven shopping nightmare, although I'm also debating begging off the whole thing. I don't think this would surprise anyone, and I could reasonably explain that I had to start editing, in addition to my general dislike of crowds -- particularly frantic pressing crowds.

In any case, it's nice to be finished, although this one will be a bigger editing job than the last novel, Troublesome Cargo. My editing job on that one kind of petered out some time early this year, but I should pick it back up and finish. I was nearly done with my second-pass edit to clean up awkward language and such, and then it'd be "publishable" enough that I could toss it up on Dangerpants (my "art" website) without being too embarrassed.

Now, I must away to my sleeping-chamber, to sleep off the ridiculous amount of food I ingested for this particular turkey day.

Posted at 23:47 permanent link category: /misc


Mon, 19 Nov 2007

New video

It's another thrilling episode of Ian Fiddles With Bikes:

Enjoy!

Posted at 08:13 permanent link category: /motorcycle


It's alive!

Today was a momentous motorcycle-day for me. I finally had (almost) all the pieces I needed to get the CL175 safely and legally on the road.

So, I hooked up all the bits and bobs, plugging the gas tank back in (and diagnosing a mysterious lack of fuel flow, which turned out to be basic, run-of-the-mill flakes of rust in the outlet) and getting it all ship-shape. It started, and once I'd sorted out the petcock's clogging problem, it ran pretty well.

I strapped on my riding suit, and headed out for the momentous first ride, trusty video camera riding on the handlebars. It actually didn't turn out to be that momentous: everything basically worked like I'd expected it would. The bike is loud, and surprisingly powerful for "just a 175," but it's still far behind the Ninja 250 in performance. That's fine, I would have been shocked and dismayed that a 1967 design of smaller capacity beat a 1987 design.

Most interestingly, the front brake works really well. I'd been concerned that it'd just be a slight improvement, but Metal Frictions really set me up with a good brake. It's not perfect: although it's now perfectly capable of locking the front wheel up, the transition from moderate braking to heavy braking is rather sudden. It'll take some getting used to, after the beautiful, smooth application and comparatively high power of the Ninja 250 brakes. It's humorous to me that all these comparisons elevate the little 250 (among the smallest bikes you can buy now) so high.

Unfortunately, there were definitely problems. The biggest one is that both wheels wobble like nobody's business (and I mean wobble -- I shot some video of the front tire, and it looks like the wheel is about to collapse; it's not, but somehow the tire is really uneven). I'll have to sort that out. One suggestion has been that I need to put some lubricant inside the tires so that the innertube doesn't bind. I don't know if that'll fix it or not. I hope so -- the other choice is that the new tires are severely out of whack, which would make me sad and delay further riding until replacements arrived. That assumes that I could even get them replaced, now that I've ridden 5 miles on them.

So, it was a mixed success. It ran, but the tires are a problem. I also, in my efforts to free the fork legs, managed to disturb the delicate network of rust holding the headlight to its moorings, so it's now essentially sitting loose in its brackets, held firm by gaff tape. That's like duct tape, but black and 5x more expensive (but right at hand). I have a new headlight (and blinkers and handlebar and speedometer, all hanging from a mass of wires), but it'll take some effort to get it mounted -- the bike is essentially grounded until I do that, since it gets dark so early. I also have to fix the headlight's off-dim-high switch, which is so intermittent that it's essentially impossible to keep the headlight lit except through occasional accident. This may severely limit my ability to ride the bike through the winter.

Anyway, it was nice to get the bike not only running, but riding, albeit a bit wobblishly. That's not a word, but it should be.

I will also have a new episode of the video series uploaded. I'm sure these will be a lot less popular than the countersteering videos, but that's fine. It's interesting to work on them, essentially making my own miniature American Chopper, vintage Honda edition.

Posted at 01:01 permanent link category: /motorcycle


Wed, 14 Nov 2007

Knocking down milestones

Tonight, I passed 50,000 words. My novel now stands at 50,412 words, more or less. I'm only part way into the "second half" story that I'm now telling (the first half of the novel pretty much being setup for the second half; ah well), so I'm still far from the end, but it's cool to see the milestone pass so quickly.

It's not the 12 days I did last year, but 14 still isn't too shabby.

Posted at 23:27 permanent link category: /misc


Tue, 13 Nov 2007

The agony of the forks

Tonight was fork-night for the old Honda. I tried to make yesterday fork-night, but the forks weren't cooperating, and I didn't have time or energy enough to figure out what was going on.

What I did do yesterday was to drain one of the fork legs of its oil. Well, I say oil, but what I mean is "oil" in big quotes. What actually came out of the fork leg was a quarter cup of water, followed by what appeared to be the original fork oil: dark green sludge that dripped lazily out of the drain hole in the fork slider. I didn't make any further progress than that.

Tonight, I drained the other fork leg. Instead of water followed by oil, what I got was a horrifying, thick white sludge that appears to be emulsified oil and water. The resulting mixture that's currently sitting in my oil drain pan does not look like anything I'd expected to get out of any part of any motorcycle, ever. It does look like something I'd expect to find along the Cowgate in Edinburgh, or outside frat row at any major university in the US. That is to say, something with disturbingly organic origins.

In any case, that decidedly distasteful topic aside, I set about trying to solve the problem of how to actually remove the forks. Each fork leg is held in place by two clamps, which are collectively called the triple tree. Triple because you've got the two fork legs, and the central pivot tube. The lower triple clamp had pretty obvious bolts, which I loosened. The upper triple clamp, unlike any other bike I've worked on, didn't have any clamps I could see, just a big bolt in the top end of the leg, which served as both the attachement into the top clamp as well as the plug holding in the "oil."

So, normally, getting a fork leg out is a simple operation: undo one clamp bolt, remove the top bolt, and pull. In my case? Naturally not that simple. I couldn't actually get either leg to budge until I'd entirely removed the top clamp from the bike, and spent several minutes' quality time with a big hammer. Finally, I dropped out the left fork leg, which was covered in rust.

Next came the curiously difficult task of removing the accordion-like fork boot. This is the piece of rubber that covers the sliding surface, nominally to keep it from getting dinged up by flying rocks or bugs or whatver. In the case of my bike, what it had actually done was provide an excellent container to keep several inches of water pressed against the very corrodable fork leg. Extrapolate that against 35 years of life in the great, rainy Northwest, and you can imagine what kind of shape the fork slider was in. Let's start by saying it was Not Good, and conclude by saying that one of the areas of pitting was so deep that a good-size grain of sand could have ridden from outside the fork leg to inside the fork leg without touching the oil seal.

The other fork leg, once I finally got it out (which involved considerably more time with my big hammer -- I'm going to get a blacksmith's arm if I'm not careful) was in much better shape, with only one comparatively tiny area of pitting.

I called Tim, the wonderful repository of all 160 parts, and asked if he had a spare set of fork legs I could buy from him. He said he might, but he'd have to figure out if another project required them, so I'll be calling him back on that front. However, he did suggest an interesting idea: rather than scrapping the forks (which was my only thought so far), why not try filling the pits with JB Weld? It's not as if the surface of the fork tubes actually has to be that hard, it just has to provide a smooth surface for the oil seal to ride on. It's an intriguing idea, and one I'll have to explore further.

Of course, the screws holding the slider to the tube are both completely frozen, so the question may be moot. If I can't get the sliders off, then I can't replace the seals, and there's no point trying to fix up the tubes. In that case, I might as well just refill the forks with oil and plan to spend a lot of time cleaning up oil gushed up past the ratty seals. Unfortunately, that will never pass the technical inspection at the race, so that idea's pretty much a non-starter.

So now, I've got the forks sitting on the workbench, with penetrating oil soaking into the frozen screws. I'll have to hit up Sears for a variety of replacement screwdrivers, as the ones I have are all starting to look a bit rounded. There's a lot to be said for that no-questions replacement policy...

But hey, progress is progress, even if it results in disgusting sludge and the feeling that I'm taking two steps back for every step forward.

Posted at 23:28 permanent link category: /motorcycle


Sun, 11 Nov 2007

Less frustrating

I made a little breakthrough today: I discovered another adjustment on the old Honda, which means that the clutch cable I bought (and which appeared to be the wrong size) actually does fit just fine. That was an immense relief, and considerably elevated my mood.

Yesterday, I actually got a good amount done, too. I pulled off the swingarm, in order to lubricate it, and ended up lubricating the pivot, but also wire-brushing the whole thing and repainting it. It's hardly perfect, but it looks better now, and is less likely to rust. I also cleaned and painted the chainguard, which has obviously seen a lot of splatter activity from the battery (delicious sulphuric acid!).

While I had the swingarm off, I took the opportunity to drill out the lower shock mounts, so that I can put the new shocks on. Even now, the bike is looking much better with its shiny new shocks in place. I ended up using pieces of plastic bottle as shims in the upper mounts -- the same material i've been using for rim guards while working on tires. It's handy stuff. Good thing I like the contents so much (Karam's Garlic Sauce).

I am going to see about putting together another video update today. Hopefully it'll be less time consuming this time, since I've already got a lot of the work started. I'll certainly post here once it's done.

Posted at 12:12 permanent link category: /motorcycle


Writing update

I have been alerted that the link I originally posted about my novel was wrong. Indeed it was. I'll correct it in the old entry, but the correct link is here: my novelling progress. That's just a page showing my wordcount progress.

If you'd like to read some of my text, you can read an excerpt at my NaNoWriMo.org page (click on the "Novel Excerpt" tab). If you really want to see the whole thing in its unorganized glory, click here. That link will be updated every night with new text as I write.

Be warned that you are looking at absolutely raw, unedited and poorly-conceived writing. As I've mentioned, I'm having trouble with the concepts, and I honestly have no idea what direction the story will take over the next few days. I had more dreams about the breakdown of civilization last night, trying to trace out all the paths of effect that the changes in the story will take.

Posted at 10:33 permanent link category: /misc


Sat, 10 Nov 2007

Novel dreams

So, in my novel-writing adventure so far (up to 33,310 words as of just now), the world is breaking apart. I'll spare you the details in case you decide to read it at some point, but this novel is considerably more about the world falling apart than I'd really considered when I started out.

What was a cool premise has turned out to be a really cool premise, but also much more comprehensive and a lot more mental work than I'd been anticipating.

Last night, I noticed that I was having dreams about the falling-apart aspects of the story. Dreams where I was exploring the ramifications of everything that might stop working. They're pretty all-encompassing.

One other interesting thing I've noticed about this novel is that it's affecting my perception of reality. I find myself planning for this falling-apart event, or pondering with sadness an activity that I do and enjoy now, and won't be able to do once the novel comes true.

Of course, the novel is a work of fiction. It contemplates a reality that's so far out in left field that it's not even in the running for a possible future. It's set 5 years from now, and the falling-apart-ness of the whole thing is actually somewhat real, in the sense that everywhere you turn now, people are talking about how unsustainable our lifestyle is. I think that message is getting wrapped into the story, albeit in a very roundabout way. In the story, we're forced out of our terrible, wasteful habits, but not in a way anyone would want -- there will be a horrendous reduction in population before the story's over, whether it's through war, famine, or disease (or all of the above). The novel's turning out to be a bit more of a downer than I'd anticipated, too.

Anyway, I've typed an awful lot lately. Sorry for the lack of updates here, but at least I'm getting stuff done.

Posted at 23:55 permanent link category: /misc


Wed, 07 Nov 2007

Frustrating night

I got all my new parts home last night, and started to install them. Unfortunately, my success rate wasn't very high.

The brake cable is 5" or so longer than the one that came off the bike. Not a big problem, but kind of annoying, since I think the Ebay listing description was inaccurate. I had already avoided several cables that were extra-long specifically because I wanted the stock length.

The clutch cable was simply the wrong thing. It's so close to the right thing that it fits, and can be installed, but the cable is just a bit too short for the housing. The cable is actually marked for a CL160, and I can't recall now if the Ebay listing was wrong, or if I overenthusiastically assumed a 160 part would fit a 175 bike. Either way, it won't work the way it is, since I think a full slack the clutch is still very slightly disengaged.

The throttle cable may or may not fit. The one that's on the bike was in such good shape that I didn't bother removing it. Just sprayed some lube in and called it good. No need to fix what's not broken -- I guess I have a spare cable now.

The new clutch lever didn't fit -- the pivot bolt hole is too small. That would be easily remedied if I had a drill press, but my drill press is still up at Jesse's house, buried in his garage. I was looking into getting myself a new drill press anyway, but I couldn't find the one I wanted locally, so that's a nonstarter. At least the lever looks otherwise like the right thing.

The new shocks look good. They'll require a little bit of work, but I was expecting that, at least. I found some bushings I thought might work for the upper mount (which is too large for the mounting pin on the bike), but although they're a good fit to the shock, they're too small internally for the bike. Again, nothing a drill press couldn't fix, but see problem A.

The other problem with the new shocks is that the lower mounting bolt is an M10 bolt instead of the M7 from the stocker. So the mounting hole on the swingarm is 3mm too small. This one's a job for a hand drill and a steady hand most likely, but by the time I got to that point last night, it was too late to embark upon high-precision tasks. I've learned the hard way that my ability to start up demanding jobs after about 9 pm is not very good.

So, that all put last night thoroughly in the "frustrating" category.

Fortunately, this morning went well, and I now have a shiny new front brake setup, with a round drum, and fresh pads, and everything. It was on the pricey side, at $125, but it looks like Metal Frictions did a good job, so I can't complain. At some point in the next few weeks, I hope to have the bike rolling well enough to check out the brakes, but I'm hoping they'll be a lot better than what I experienced that wet night in Indianola, checking out the bike.

Posted at 11:53 permanent link category: /motorcycle


Tue, 06 Nov 2007

It's like Xmas!

(By the way, that's pronounced "ecksmass".)

I arrived in the office today to find my mailbox overflowing with packages. A huge wave of parts off Ebay have arrived. I now have:

I'm particularly excited for that last one, as the shocks on the bike now are really crusty looking, and completely devoid of damping oil. The Redwings were almost scandalously cheap, just $63 after shipping -- I paid about $400 for a new shock for the Ninja 250, and the next cheapest shocks you can still get for the CL175 start at $194 (or presumably even more as the dollar falls further against the pound). Suspension parts can get ridiculously expensive. I could probably pay over $1000 just for a pair of shocks for this bike, if I were so inclined.

I also got a call that my front wheel is done, so I can go pick that up soon, and I'll have the bike back together, and nearly rideable! I'm still waiting on a replacement sprocket after the first one wouldn't quite slide onto the countershaft. I'm excited to check out the new brakes. I'm hoping they'll be an obvious improvement over what I felt before, and I'm sure that between the new cable and the fresh pads, it'll be like night and day. As good as the disc brake on the Ninja? Probably not. But way better than they were.

I've probably got enough video after making Part 1 that I could put together Part 2 pretty quickly, with minimal new footage, so that's a potential upcoming project. If I do that, the editing will go a lot faster, as I've already got all the footage on hard disk, and capturing from the camera takes a lot of time. I definitely need More Disk, though. My poor little laptop's running perilously low on free space. I'm not sure where it all went.

With all those new parts in my hands, I definitely know what I'm doing tonight: workin' in the garage!

Posted at 11:34 permanent link category: /motorcycle


Sun, 04 Nov 2007

CL175 video, part 1

I decided, as part of this CL175 vintage racer project, to document some or all of the process on video. Might as well. I've failed to do anything with all the vintage racing footage I shot last year, and this kind of makes up for it.

Anyway, without further ado:

Enjoy!

Posted at 23:01 permanent link category: /motorcycle


Sat, 03 Nov 2007

Workbench... of DOOM!

So, I just spent the last 4 hours building a workbench for the garage. I tossed the ex-Boeing computer table I'd been using before. It was too low, and not really the right shape. I knew what I wanted: a 2' by 8' table that was actually at my waist level, instead of some malnourished 19th century European craftsman's waist level.

Making it would be straightforward. I had a complete sheet of plywood left over from something, so I'd use that as the top. I could get a bunch of 2x4s to form the structure underneath, and voila! Workbench!

So, I checked in the shed. Yep, there was the plywood, but also... What's that up there? Oh, look, it's a 2x8! Oh, huh, and there are four more 2x8s! And, pull, it's 10 feet long?! So's that one! And look at that, some 8 foot 4x6s! Wow, I could build a bench out of all that!

So, I did.

The thing is, using 2x8s like I did is completely massive, dramatic overkill. That bench could probably support a car without creaking. It's way, way stronger than it needs to be. But I only had to buy one piece (a likely-redundant diagonal brace to keep the legs from wobbling side-to-side), and it cost $2.50. I even had all the screws I needed. The amazing, $2.50 workbench! The 3/4" plywood (which is very, very strong) is probably the weakest part of it. It kind of makes me giggle a mad, power-hungry giggle.

I really hope, if we have an earthquake while I'm still living here, that it happens when I'm in the garage. Ain't nothin' touching me under that bench.

Posted at 21:55 permanent link category: /misc


The madness

It's been a busy, busy few days.

First things first. I'm participating in National Novel Writing Month again. That's a link to the page of a small group of friends, but what's cool is that you can check it each day, and see how I'm doing. The goal is just this: wordcount. Nothing more or less. The target is to write at least 1667 words per day.

Last year, I ended up writing 50,000 words (the goal for the month) in just 12 days. I was finished writing on the story in 13. This is... unusually fast, let's say. I don't expect I'll finish that fast this time, but so far I've turned in over 3300 words per day, which will have me finishing in 15 days if I keep up that rate. We'll see.

The story this time is sort of modern fantasy-ish, kind of. It's called Hybrids, and involves a DNA scientist and a Wiccan. How's that for a description you can't really do anything with? I'll put up a link to the text later, so you can read along each day, and see how terrible my writing is when I write too fast.

The next thing I'm doing is working on that motorcycle. I've made good progress: the front wheel is in to Metal Frictions to have the brake shoes replaced, and the drum turned. I have a new rim in the garage, and new spokes on the way, to rebuild the front wheel once the brake work is done. I have a flood of parts arriving from Ebay over the next week. I spent a little bit of time, and was able to straighten up the spare rear wheel, which is now mounted to the bike.

What I'm doing with the bike that makes things so interesting is that I'm filming it as I go. I decided this would make great material for a series of YouTube shorts, so I'm shooting myself as I work, and narrate what I'm doing. It's fun so far, and I've got a bit over an hour of footage, which will reduce to the first installment, of perhaps 3-5 minutes. I expect, by the time I'm done, I'll have at least 5 installments, probably more. It depends a lot on how much work I have to do, and how much patience I have for filming it as I go. It'll also depend on my patience with editing down the footage to a standard of quality I'm willing to put out. On the plus side, I'm finally using the shotgun microphone I picked up last year. It makes the longer shots in the garage sound a lot less hollow.

The third busy-maker is that I'm still working on unpacking boxes. I've set myself a goal of unpacking at least a box a day. So far, I'm one for two, so not doing too well. Today should be a good day, though, as I don't have anything definite planned. I should be able to get in a lot of writing, some motorcycle work, and a few boxes, at least. And of course at some point I'll fall over, exhausted.

It's true what the say -- if you want something done, give it to a busy person.

Posted at 08:10 permanent link category: /misc


Mon, 29 Oct 2007

A new old bike

Picking up the new CL175 today was a highly scripted operation -- I used a Flexcar pickup truck, which is billed by the hour, so I wanted to make sure I had it planned out correctly. Turns out I left too much slop time in my planning, and I was done almost three hours ahead of schedule. Hopefully someone used the truck after me, so I don't have to pay for all that time I didn't use.

In any case, the pickup was easy. I grabbed Jesse, and we headed to the ferry, catching the 11:30 instead of the planned 12:05. Greg was ready for us, and it was a matter of minutes before we had the bike loaded in the back of the truck, and were headed out again. Jesse examined the front brake while Greg and I were completing our transaction, and declared that it felt awful because of the cable. That was encouraging. I'd had the thought, but didn't really know how well I was interpreting what I was feeling.

On the way back, we managed to roll into the Kingston ferry dock just as they started loading the 12:40 (or so) ferry, making us two ferries earlier than I'd planned on. I dropped off Jesse and went home to unload the bike. I was back at the Flexcar parking spot by 2:15, and feeling foolish for having so vastly overplanned the trip. Ah well, it was nice to be done early.

Once I got back to my garage, I started going over the bike, to see what I could do in the absence of parts. The first target was the battery. Somehow, in 71 miles and something like six months of ownership, Greg managed to go through two batteries. As soon as I put the battery on a charger, I guessed what the problem was: he was using a car charger on a motorcycle battery. Unfortunately, motorcycle batteries require a much smaller charging current than car chargers can do, and a car charger will quickly overheat the little motorcycle battery. The electrolyte was very low in all the cells, a likely sign of overheating. After I topped the battery up with water, it was reading just 10.1 volts, a good sign it'd never come back. Nonetheless, I hooked it up to the motorcycle charger, and set it going.

Unfortunately, I completely overfilled the battery, so it immediately started spluttering out dilute battery acid onto the bike. I pulled it out, and set it on the ground (and on a pile of baking soda, to counteract the spilled acid -- fun with hissing and bubbling!). It was producing a lot of hydrogen, so I'm guessing it's not going to come back. But there's no harm in trying -- the worst that'll happen is that the battery boils off its electrolyte again. I already assume I'll need a new battery, so if I can get by without needing one, I'll be up $50. (Greg, if you're reading this: for the next bike, get a Battery Tender. They're about $60, but they're excellent at charging and keeping up small batteries like this without damage.)

The next area that really needed attention was the front brake. When I tested it on Wednesday night, it was essentially useless. As hard as I could pull (and 8 years of motorcycling plus more of bicycling means I have a decent brake-pullin' hand), it barely affected the speed of the bike. I knew I wanted to replace all the cables, but I figured I could try lubing the brake cable, and see if that improved anything. Again, the worst that could happen was no improvement. Amazingly, the brake cable came to life (well, relatively) after a good dousing in TriFlow, and now I can actually get some stopping power out of the front brake. It's still not fabulous, but so much better than it was.

I decided to give the clutch cable the same treatment, and discovered that about half the strands in the cable are broken off right at the hand lever. I lubed it anyway, but that cable definitely needs to go. Jesse has a line on one of the vintage racers who has all the bits and pieces to make new cables, so I'm going to talk to him. Apparently the NOS (New Old Stock) cables you can get on Ebay aren't worth it, although they're certainly cheap.

At this point, I decided to head down to Seattle Cycle Center, which is so close to my house as to be "the local motorcycle shop." It's barely a 5 minute bike ride. I wasn't quite ready to replace the battery yet (that will be a day or two from now), but I wanted to order tires, and pick up a new chain. I had good success, ordering a set of BT45 tires, which are the same ones I run on my Ninja 250. They had a chain in stock, and I picked up a set of grips to replace the cracked, hard plastic things currently gracing the handlebars. Had I been thinking straight, I also would have ordered a new set of sprockets, but that didn't occur to me until I got the old chain off an hour later, and really looked at the state of the old sprockets. Ah well, that order can go in tomorrow.

I didn't do any more work than that, but I did check a few other things. The tires are excitingly cracked and ancient looking, although I don't know how old they actually are. I discovered that the rear wheel is actually missing a spoke, and neither wheel is particularly round. Looks like I'll be doing some wheel repairs before I take the bike at any speed. Fortunately, my bicycle wheel building experience puts me in a good position to deal with that. Even more fortunately, the bike came with an entire spare rear wheel, so I can just swap the new one on rather than repairing the current one. The spare looks to be in nice condition, so that's pretty handy.

Another thing I did was just get on the bike and make putt-putt noises while bouncing up and down like a kid. Gotta have some fun, right? I also discovered, while bouncing, that the rear shocks actually contain no oil any more. They're just springs. That'll make riding interesting, but also adds another item to my "must replace" list. It'll be a positive change in all ways, though, since I'll actually be able to get the correct strength springs on there for my gargantuan size. (If you've seen my centerstand video on YouTube, and thought I looked big next to the Ninja 250, the CL175 is smaller still. It's going to look like I'm riding a kid's bike.)

I took a closer look at the muffler as well, wondering what damage there was. I found not one or two, but three major holes in the muffler, accounting for the throaty roar put out by the little tiny engine. Fortunately, for racing duty, it's standard practica to just cut off the muffler and run straight pipes. Unfortunately, for street duty, I'll be pissing off neighbors and intriguing cops with my super-loud tiny bike.

Far from being daunted by all the problems I'm discovering, it's actually proving to be an interesting and engaging challenge. The bike is so simple that there's no anxiety about whether I can do a particular repair or not. The parts are all super cheap, since this was a ubiquitous bike in its day, and there are lots of parts left over. It's nothing like working on a BMW, where every trip to get parts results in a multi-hundred-dollar sting in the wallet region, even if you do thank your lucky stars that BMW still produces and stocks parts for a bike that's 40+ years old.

Anyway, a successful first day with the bike. The challenge now will be balancing the needs of unpacking boxes in the house with the desire to go tinker on the cool old bike.

Posted at 08:48 permanent link category: /motorcycle


Sun, 28 Oct 2007

New bike, day 1

I'll be writing more on this later, but I wanted to toss up some links:

The CL175 page.

Pictures from today.

I've already learned a bunch of interesting stuff, which I'll detail later.

Posted at 19:36 permanent link category: /motorcycle


Sat, 27 Oct 2007

Not again!

I hopped on my bike a couple nights ago, and got ready to ride: helmet and gloves on, pants cuffs rolled up, and various lights switched on. Something didn't seem right, so I looked down, and saw that my shiny new Nite Rider Minewt X2 was no longer illuminated. I switched it back on to the low-power mode (where I use it 99% of the time -- it's nearly as bright as the full-power mode, but uses half the battery power).

After a few seconds, it switched off. Wait a minute, I thought, it's not supposed to do that... I tried again, but it wouldn't stay on. With anger in my heart, I set out for home.

After stopping half way for dinner, I tried again. I discovered that if I switched modes back and forth a few times, I could sometimes trick it into switching on the red, "Battery low" LED, but not all the time. If I just switched it on, it would stay on for a few seconds, then switch itself off. Very frustrating.

I kept a close eye on it for the ride home, but once it was in the red-light mode, it seemed to be happy enough. I made it all the way home (about 30 minutes) without further degradation to the light -- at least, not that I could tell.

I tried switching it off then on once I got home, and it immediately displayed the low-battery indicator, so I theorized that when it was behaving strangely, it must have been at the threshold point between not-low-battery and low-battery. After an overnight charge (this time blessedly free of overheating batteries), it worked as expected.

So, maybe it was just in an odd spot when it started misbehaving, but it was still frustrating, and not the kind of behavior I want to see out of one of my primary safety devices. I've got my eye on you, little headlight.

Posted at 09:41 permanent link category: /bicycle


Fri, 26 Oct 2007

Goofing around with Tourist Trophy

Jesse and I were playing Tourist Trophy (an excellent motorcycle video game) the other day, and discovered that there's a "Seattle" track. Intrigued, we tried it out. It's actually based somewhat on reality, if you took downtown and made a racetrack out of it. It's terrifyingly dangerous, full of sharp turns with no runoff area. We both crashed an inordinate number of times.

Anyway, I went back and revisited the track tonight on my favorite bike in the game, a possibly-fictitious 1994 Honda CB400SS. I took a couple of pictures:


"Me" riding the CB400SS


A nice shot of the now-demolished King Dome

I'm still impressed by Tourist Trophy's ability to take very realistic looking pictures of the action.

Posted at 23:31 permanent link category: /motorcycle


Thu, 25 Oct 2007

A 35 year old motorcycle (updated with pics)

I rode out to Indianola today, which is on the Olympic Penninsula, not far from the ferry port of Kingston. There, someone had a 1972 Honda CL175 for sale. This is a motorcycle which Honda also called the CB175, when fitted with different handlebars and a different set of exhaust pipes.

The ride out was perfectly miserable. I managed to pick the one day of the week for which rain was both forecasted and ever-so-present. The rain was pounding so hard as I rode up Bainbridge Island toward my destination that I thought to myself, "There's no way to describe this so that anyone actually understands." My faceshield was a glittering starfield any time a car came the opposite direction, which was most of the ride. I spent almost the whole ride trying to keep the car in front of me from getting too far away, so I could tell where the lane was. My gloves had long ago soaked through, and my hands were increasingly cold and numb. Fortunately, the rest of me was pretty comfortable, so it definitely could have been worse.

I got to my destination (I'm so glad I have a good GPS for this kind of thing) without any trouble, aside from the rain. Indianola turned out to be a tiny bedroom community, with a 20 MPH speed limit and few streetlights. Two turns had me parking as Greg (the seller) waved up at me. He was standing next to the bike in a t-shirt, steaming slightly in the pounding rain.

I parked and walked down the hill to meet him. The CL175 stood, glistening with raindrops. Greg introduced himself, and explained that he was very sorry, he hadn't been able to get the bike to start. He felt like this ruined my trip out, although it didn't feel that way to me.

The little bike was very cute, if perhaps showing its age a bit. A 175cc motorcycle, when this was built, was considered a middleweight bike, falling between the 50cc beginner bike (like the Honda Cub) and the 250cc freeway cruiser. The CB175 was meant for around-town use, but would be the functional equivalent of the 650-900cc class now -- around town, but also freeway jaunts as required.

Of course, now, you're lucky to find any model smaller than 600cc, and the 1000cc bike are coming to be the middleweight class (well, in some cases anyway). If you're confused, just take my word that the more cc (cubic centimeters) an engine has, the more powerful it is, generally speaking. By today's standards, a 175cc bike is ridiculously small.

But I digress.

The little bike looked perfectly content sitting there in the pouring rain. The sun had set nearly an hour ago, so I got out my flashlight, and looked it over. It looked much like Jesse's race bike, but with more lights and appurtenances on it. (The primary difference between a race bike and a street bike in this class is whether it has turn signals and a headlight.)

We spent a few more minutes trying to kickstart the little thing. Every once in a while, it would make an encouraging "putt-putt" as the engine tried to fire, but it obviously wasn't going to happen. Finally we gave up, and adjourned to the inside, where it wasn't nearly as rainy.

Greg and I chatted, and I met his wife and young daughter. Their house was delightful, although the ceilings were designed for someone smaller than me. They had a miniscule wood stove going, which kept the whole house very toasty warm -- I'm going to have to look into a wood burning insert or something.

After a few minutes, Greg looked up, and announced that the rain had subsided enough, and that he'd try starting the bike again. The battery was flat, so the electric starter ("Works fine, when the battery's charged!") was out of the question. The rain had indeed ceased, although it sounded like it was still raining, due to all the water dripping off the surrounding trees. More minutes of kicking the little engine over resulted in both of us tiring out, but no life from the motor. Finally, we decided to try bump-starting the bike, which has the advantage of getting the engine turning for a much longer period of time, more like an electric starter. That worked, and Greg did a quick lap of the block to get the engine warmed up.

I got my riding gear back on, and took the bike out myself. The experience was fairly bizarre. The front brake was essentially useless. A full-force squeeze would bring the bike to a very gradual stop, but not on any kind of slope. The little motor pulled surprisingly well, much harder than I would have expected. The headlight switch (which presumably had been built with Off, Low and High positions, but seemed to consist of a gigantic Off position with randomly-placed Low and High positions) was dangerous to touch, lest the light go out and never come back on. The turn signals blinked once, then stayed on solid. I noticed as I took a more spirited run that the engine ran poorly when I'd accidentally left the turnsignal on -- presumably that extra 30W of lighting was enough to draw down the battery so that the ignition didn't quite have enough power.

In addition to all this, the exhaust seemed to have a sizeable leak just before the muffler, so it sounded just about as loud as Jesse's race bike, which has no mufler at all. I was afraid I was angering the residents of every house I passed, but no one came out to yell at me.

Frightening ride completed, I returned, and told Greg that I'd get back to him. I need to consult with Jesse on some of the bike's more glaring faults, mostly the front brake. In race trim, the bike's charging system will be completely disabled, so I'm not too worried about the apparent electrical problem.

Greg told me that he's done a good deal of work (mostly replacing parts) trying to get the engine running properly. He mentioned replacing the coil, points, condenser, and spark plugs. He's also been scouring Ebay, looking for cosmetic parts.

The bike obviously needs some things done before it'd be a safe street or track bike:

It'll more work beyond that to make it a safe street bike (which is my goal before I race-ify it):

There's probably more, but that's what I can think of at the moment.

I'm looking forward to discussing the bike with Jesse. He knows much more about them than I do (although not about street-legal bikes, since all his experience has been with the race-prepped bikes). I'm leaning towards getting it, but I need to figure out how much pain I'm in for with the front brake first. Who knows, by this time next week, I might have yet another way to suck down gas and destroy the planet. Huzzah! (At least these little bikes are supposed to get pretty good gas mileage...)

Update: I've posted the pictures I took last night:


To the gallery

Posted at 00:15 permanent link category: /motorcycle


Wed, 24 Oct 2007

Tuesday night news dump

There's been a lot of stuff going on, and rather than make a bunch of little posts about them, I figured I'd just wrap it all up into one.

Bicycles: I took those silly clipless pedals off. The final straw was when I realized that I'd put multiple, visible dents in my floor right where I put the shoes on. The cleats were clearly causing damage every day, and it wouldn't be long before I'd tear up thousands of dollars worth of floor work.

Yeah, grand, the system let me pedal a little bit more efficiently. Not possibly worth the trouble and annoyance of having to carry multiple pairs of shoes around.

Motorcycles: Surprisingly, there's activity on this front. I'm going tomorrow (well, today technically) to look at a 1972 Honda CL175, which is a very small "offroad" bike which can be easily converted for track use. I'm thinking much more seriously about doing vintage racing next year, and this would be a great bike for it. It's over in Indianola, which is a place I've never been before, so that should be an adventure all by itself. It's interesting to think I might own a motorcycle as old as myself.


The CL175 in question.

Nerdery: Bet ya didn't know that was a category. Well, it is for this post. Last week, I broke down and ordered an Alphasmart Dana, which is a sort of laptop-lite. In fact, I'm writing this entry on it. So far, I can tell you that the keyboard is quite nice, better than most laptops. The screen leaves a bit to be desired in terms of contrast and anti-glare. I'm going to have to get some kind of anti-glare shield for the screen.

The reason I was even thinking about something like an Alphasmart Dana is that I'll be participating in NaNoWriMo in November. I did really well last year, somehow finishing fifty thousand words in 13 days. At that rate, I have to try again. Last year, I used my trusty, dusty Model 102 for the task, but lamented that its memory was so small that I actually filled it several times, so that it got in the way of the writing process. I thought to myself, "If only this thing talked USB and could take modern memory cards." Well, guess what the Dana does? It's essentially a modern Model 102 with a bigger screen and more memory/connectivity options, but it's got the same long battery life (25 hours claimed). I was also tempted by the Alphasmart Neo (at 700 hours battery life -- sheesh!) but decided that 25 hours was "good enough" and that the ability to run Palm apps was pretty compelling.

Anyway, I'm not regretting the choice, and I'm looking forward to another speed-novelling adventure. I've got an idea for the next one, and it's even a bit more fleshed out than the first one was. We'll see how that works. Just don't expect a lot of posts here while I'm doing that.

House-ery: Or something. I sold the wardrobe on Sunday, so I actually have everything completely out of storage now. Of course, I've been busy enough at work that I've completely neglected to actually tell the storage place to shut down my account. Hopefully I can remember tomorrow.

Now, of course, comes the challenge of unpacking all those boxes...

I think that's enough for now. The clock tells me it's nearly 1 am, and I really really should be asleep. Should have been asleep hours ago, but sometimes you just gotta play with the new toys...

Posted at 08:42 permanent link category: /misc


Sat, 20 Oct 2007

Everything's* moved back in!

I passed a milestone today. Everything* is moved back into the house. Of course, it's basically still all sitting around in boxes, but progress is progress! At least I won't have to be making a bunch more trips out to the storage unit.

* Of course not everything. I'm selling my old wardrobe, and rather than move it to my house, I'll leave it in storage until it sells -- for free if necessary.

It'll be nice to get out of the $171/mo storage payment. Soon, yes, soon.

Posted at 20:32 permanent link category: /misc


Adventures in watts (warning, probably boring)

A while ago, I got a Kill-A-Watt, which is this little box you plug inbetween the wall outlet and a device, to see how much power it uses. I played with it a bit, discovering that my computer uses about 18W while just dinking around like I am now, or up to 45W while doing processor-intensive tasks like rendering video.

Now that I'm back in my house, I'm thinking about my electric bill, which has historically been pretty high. I was running as many as 5 or 6 full-size computers, plus some networking equipment. Each of those computers had a 250-350W power supply, although I doubt they were drawing that amount the whole time (but maybe they were...).

When I moved out to sell the house, I made the executive decision that maintaining computers at home was far too much like maintaining computers at work. I didn't want anything more to do with it. Thus you see the much faster speeds for obairlann.net that exist today, as I let Dreamhost take over the hosting. An added advantage is that I don't have the relatively humongous electrical load I had before.

Out of curiosity, I went around, Kill-A-Watting some New House Order devices. For computers, I now have the laptop, the DSL modem, a wireless router, and an external hard drive. The laptop, as I've already mentioned, runs about 18W normally, or 2W when sleeping and keeping the battery topped up. The wireless router, I was pleased to see (a WRT54G, for those keeping score at home) runs 2W total, ever. The DSL modem similarly runs 2W. The external hard drive uses 4W while standing by, or 12W while accessing the hard drive (it normally spins down, so average consumption will be 4.1W or something, based on how often I access it). So, the grand total computer power in the house is now an average of about 25W, since the laptop spends about 40% of its time awake, and 60% sleeping. That's a pretty sizeable jump from the 6 x 200W (not to mention monitors) I was running before, plus networking gear.

Of course, all is not rosy on this path. My TV system, although off 99% of the time, is horrible: a projector which uses 290W while on, and a surprising 4W just to sit in standby. The stereo stack (which includes amplifier, MD player, CD player, VCR, and PS2) uses about 11W on standby, including a 2W drain for the plug-in clock. That drops by about 2W per device that I unplug (most of this stuff stays in a standby mode to respond to a remote control). Switched on and playing a CD at a comfortable volume, the system uses about 80W, although it varies depending on how much noise comes out of the speakers. Listening to the radio at the same volume uses maybe 2W less.

The stack jumps up to about 104W while playing a DVD through the PS2 -- a dedicated DVD player would probably draw less power, since the PS2 includes a lot of fancy (and power hungry) electronics to make video games pretty. Interestingly, playing a video game only draws a little bit more, at 109W.

Fortunately, the stereo system is one which is only on a small amount of the time, and I only turn on the bits that are being used.

Charging things take a surprising amount of power, but not how you think. I checked a couple wall-wart power supplies, and they clocked in at about 2W each, while doing nothing but being plugged in. Of course, their draw goes up once they're powering their intended devices, depending on the device. The problem with the wall-warts is that they draw power whether they're doing anything or not, and many of them end up just plugged in by default, drawing power and doing nothing.

I haven't measured everything, but it looks like my normal "standby" power is under 100W. That's far better than it used to be, but 100W still adds up to 2.4 kWh per day. For that power, I have clocks, computer equipment, and other "always on" devices to thank.

For all that ~400W sounds bad to watch a DVD, I only do that about two hours every few days, for (let's call it) 4.8 kWh per month. On the other hand, the standby power for those systems (15W) is on 24/7, for 10.8 kWh per month. Yeehaw! I think I'll start switching off that power strip...

This leads to the question, "How much does it all cost?" My 2-monthly electric bill reveals the answers. It says the summer rate for power is 3.76 cents per kWh, and that for the 62 days ending July 10th, I averaged 4.43 kWh per day. Since I have a "base service charge" of $6, my actual cost per day for that period was 26 cents per day. Of course, for the same period last year (computers and all running), I was averaging 17.55 kWh/day. Last year, my average power bill was around $70 for two months, and this last July's bill is $16.37.

Hooray for less power usage! Now, how do I reduce it further?

Posted at 13:53 permanent link category: /misc


Mon, 15 Oct 2007

Clipless pedals: day two-ish

My ability to ride with clipless pedals is increasing. They are giving me noticeably more power as I ride.

But.

I'm now on my second pair of shoes. The first pair allowed a pretty dramatic amount of cleat to hit the ground, meaning I couldn't wear them at all in my softwood-floored house without causing lots of damage. The second pair look good, but with my weight on them, is still touching down the cleats. At least they fit better. Pity they're not returnable.

Despite fitting better, the new shoes aren't making my life much better. They still fit poorly enough that the toes on my right foot go to sleep in short order. Since they still grind the cleats into the floor, I can't wear them around, so they're "bicycle specific" -- exactly the factor I identified as one of my biggest reasons for not riding. I have to change shoes as soon as I get off the bike, which is making me unhappy.

The new shoes also are sort of "summery," which I don't need, but didn't have much choice in. That is, they're partly made with mesh, so they get some airflow. That's great and all, but I also ride in the rain. I don't want to have yet another piece of bicycle-only kit to put on in the form of rain booties, so that's working pretty hard against them.

While I appreciate the increased riding power, I still arrive at work/home winded, with tired legs. I'm not riding any faster (in fact, I'm riding a bit slower, as I get used to using new muscles), and really, I'm still putting out the same amount of energy to get where I'm going. Between that, the fact that I was already getting where I wanted to go with platform pedals, and the massively increased daily hassle of changing out of shoes, I don't think this setup will last the week.

I'll see how it goes, but right now, the prospects for clipless pedals on a 5 mile commute are pretty dim.

Posted at 12:04 permanent link category: /bicycle


Fri, 12 Oct 2007

What I shall call limited success

I actually had far better success with the clipless pedals than I'd expected. I stopped into Gregg's Cycles after work, though, to see if I could find better shoes. I did find some, sort of. I got a pair of Specialized shoes (model name already forgotten, naturally) which fit a lot better than the Cannondales I got last night. Unfortunately, the cleats still protrude just a little bit, so they're no better for the floors.

Ah well, at least they fit well.

Posted at 21:02 permanent link category: /bicycle


I remain skeptical

I've been riding bicycles since I was a kid. Someone convinced me, early on, that I needed to be riding with toe clips, so I installed some stamped steel clips on my pedals.

I rode around, wondering what the big deal was. I would try lifting the pedals with my feet, but in order for the clips to be loose enough to allow my shoe to be removed or inserted, they were also loose enough that there was considerable slack between pressing on the pedal and lifting on the clip. Lifting with my feet felt inefficient and silly, and I never got in the habit of it. It seemed to energy more than anything else.

Fast forward to this last year. I got on my bicycle again in a big way, and started riding to work daily in September, 2006. Once again, people started urging me to use clips, but this time they were advocating so-called clipless pedals. These are the serious pedals you see that just look like a shriveled, mangled corpse of a pedal. When the rider uses them, they engage with the shoes with a loud snap. They're clipless because they don't have that big, dorky clip running up over the rider's shoe.

Indeed, clipless pedals are supposed to be much better, because your shoe is fixed fast to the pedal, eliminating that slop-factor I discovered with toe clips. However, I had my doubts, and resisted the idea for more than a year.

Finally, some time this summer, I started thinking I should see what all the fuss is about. My friend Jesse, who was the biggest proponent of clipless pedals, compared the situation to watching a friend labor with a hand saw and insist that it was good enough, eschewing the electrically-powered saw that was next to him. A compelling comparison, if you've ever switched from a hand tool to a power tool.

So last night, passing conveniently by REI, I stopped in to check out clipless pedals and shoes. I'd done this before, but the consensus seemed to be that the only shoe that was possibly wide enough for my freakish feet was that $230 model there. Oh, I would say, and walk away dejected. $230 (plus $50-200 for a set of pedals) is far too much of an investment in some technology that I strongly suspect won't work for me.

What I found last night, though, was a set of $45 shoes that basically fit. They're certainly nothing fabulous, but they're "walkin' around" shoes, and they fit well enough to give it a try. I picked up my Cannondale shoes, and a set of middle-line Shimano pedals.

This morning, (while waiting for the DSL to be installed, which will doubtless be a story unto itself), I screwed the miniscule cleats into the shoes, and installed the little pedals on my bike. The very first thing I noticed is that the cleats do, in fact, protrude past the tread of the shoe, meaning that they are not actually "walkin' around" shoes. They still provide hardened steel edges to dig little crescent-moon shaped gouges in any soft floor, such as all the floors in my house, or half the floors at work. Strike one.

I spent a few minutes in the garage, balancing myself on the stationary bicycle, to get used to the pedal engagement/disengagement procedure. Everyone who's told me about clipless pedals has also told at least one, "So I came to a stop, and fell over, having forgotten how to disengage my feet..." story. I'd like to avoid that, if possible. Engaging the clips seemed to be more difficult than disengaging them, so that at least is somewhat positive.

Now confident enough to try riding around, I clipped in, and rode up the street for a few blocks. Nothing. Well, obviously, I thought to myself, if I ride the same way I always do, I won't notice it. So I tried experimentally lifting my legs as I pedalled. Yeah, ok, I can lift now, but the differential in muscle power between my pressing and lifting muscles must be 100:1 or better. Lifting won't gain me much if there's no power behind it.

I came in from the ride thoroughly disappointed. Treading with extreme care (noticing that the protruding end of the cleat was already shiny from walking on the concrete garage floor), I walked back into the house and changed back into safe shoes.

Right now, I am prepared to ride straight back to REI, and get my $145 back. I'm not going to, though. I realize that it'll take some practice to get used to this new world order, so I'll give it a try for a week. If, after the end of the week (and at least 50 miles) I still can't tell any difference, I'll return the whole shebang and never look back.

A power saw with no electrical connection doesn't really get me anything over the trusty old handsaw.

Posted at 10:42 permanent link category: /bicycle


Thu, 11 Oct 2007

More cuteness via the ol' felis domesticus

We brought Miloš out for lunch today. Sushi lunch. He was appropriately enthusiastic.

Of course, I took pictures:

Clicky-clicky for a little gallery

Posted at 13:41 permanent link category: /misc


Wed, 10 Oct 2007

Kitty update (so much cute!)

I am pleased to report that I'm not very allergic to young Miloš. Slightly, yes, but only if I actively try to induce allergies, like by rubbing my hands in my eyes, or inhaling through his fur. Since I'm not an idiot, that hasn't been a problem. I seem to be able to be around him without any adverse effects.

That picture is from about day two of his reign chez-Kristin. She is, of course, completely enamored. She's had him out in a little carrier, which apparently produces wild spasms from onlookers. He remains startlingly mellow through it all. All signs are that he's going to be a great cat.

Posted at 16:58 permanent link category: /misc


Mon, 01 Oct 2007

Home again

I finished moving out of the apartment and back into my house last night. My home environment currently consists of a great number of boxes.

Of course, since the decision to move back in was made in relative haste, or at least with little lead-time, I wasn't able to start ordering services like phone and DSL quickly enough. So, I won't have a phone there until maybe the 4th (no big deal, I've been living with the cellphone exclusively for a while now). More importantly, the DSL isn't scheduled to be installed until the 12th (or so; you never know with DSL installs).

Sitting at home without internet service is an odd feeling. I can't exactly complain -- my life is remarkably pleasant. It's just strange to be sitting at home, with the computer open in front of me, and not be able to get to all the stuff online I'm used to having available at a moment's notice.

The other very odd thing is to be back in this house, which I'd previously lived in for 7 years, yet be surrounded by boxes and strangeness. I still have many many boxes to retrieve from the storage unit, too. The house is no longer mine, in some important way -- it's someone else's; someone who never showed up to take it.

I'll get it back, no doubt. It's just going to take some work.

Posted at 11:02 permanent link category: /misc


Thu, 27 Sep 2007

Attention Comcast

When I call, and say, "I would like to set up internet service," I am not calling to say, "Please take all my identification data." I am not requesting the ID theft special. I want to establish internet service, and that's it.

No, I will not give you my social security number. As you should well know, it's against Federal law to use a SSN as an identifying number, except for tax purposes. Are you proposing to collect taxes on my behalf?

No, I will not give you my driver's license number and my date of birth. These are also identifying data sufficient to lose me a considerable sum of money and cause more real-world headache than I ever want to deal with. Yes, I do shop online, and hey, lookit that, my credit card number goes across the wires! But you know what? There are consumer laws in place to protect from that type of theft. My liability is actually quite limited there.

There are no established laws about what happens when some sloppy corporation goes and loses a laptop full of ID numbers for their customers. But when that happens, it usually goes down poorly for the customers, as fraudulent credit purchases are made in their name. That hand-out on "Protect yourself from identify theft!" is a poor substitute for not having the problem in the first place.

Because of your self-interest, I've already signed up for my old standby, the 144k iDSL through Speakeasy. Yes, I'm willing to pay more than your rate for 1/20th the throughput. Why? Speakeasy doesn't act like an evil corporation hellbent on all-out fiscal domination. Crazy, I know. You could maybe learn a thing or two.

Posted at 13:23 permanent link category: /misc


Track day summary

I went to a track day yesterday, and had a good time. I'll be writing more about it, but I wanted to get a quick summary out.

I was at the track by about 6:45 in the morning, having left Seattle in my friend Jesse's truck around 5:50. Tech inspection and registration was at 7. We did a ride-around of the track (via pickup truck) at 7:40, stopping at each corner so one of the instructors could get out and talk about it: lines through it, what to avoid, what to strive for, etc.

The day was broken up into 1/3 hours: first 20 minutes, the 300-level (expert) riders went on the track, and the people who'd paid for class time got instruction. The second 20 minutes, the 200s went on the track, and 100s in the class (I was in level 100, and took the class) were supposed to do Q&A with the teachers, but actually ended up working individually on the "lean machine" (a motorcycle on a tilting frame, to simulate going around a corner). The last 20 minutes of each hour, the 100s would have their time on the track.

For the most part, this worked. Unfortunately, late in the morning, people started getting too aggressive, and we had our first serious crash -- the father of one of the instructors did something that ended with three concussions, and being carted off in an ambulance. Unfortunately, that effectively cancelled the 100 session for that hour (noon, I think). There was another crash at the end of the day, cancelling the final 100 session.

Generally speaking, I found the classroom sessions to be review, and too fast to really get any points across in any case. I already knew everything they were teaching, because I've read so much about riding technique. That was a bit disappointing. However, the other valuable thing these training sessions offer is that skilled track instructors will ride with you, and let you know what you need to fix.

Unfortunately again, my experience with the instructors was essentially non-existent. I did, eventually, ride with several instructors in a confusing little pack. One of them gave me a thumbs-up after a particularly atrocious lap on my part, and I wasn't able to find any of them before it was time to go. So that was a bust, too.

Others I've talked to who've done track days and schools like this have always mentioned how much progress they make in the course of one day. I didn't really find that to be true. I started riding easy, but the other riders were all itching to go fast, so I ended up going fast pretty soon, and never really made progress beyond that point. I know I wasn't riding up to the bike's potential, but I didn't know how much further I could push it, and naturally when you push too far, you crash. Being rather keen not to crash (which would cause $500+ worth of damage to the bike for even the lightest crash, and probably ruin my $800 "one crash and it's done" riding suit), I didn't push any further.

However, even that level of riding had me keeping up with anyone I cared to pace through corners, and usually through the back stretch of the track. They'd always outdistance or pass me in the long front straight, because the Ninja 250 is not what you would call a powerful bike.

As the day drew to a close, two people in the class, also 100 level riders, commented that they had no idea the Ninja 250 could go that fast. Both were former 250 owners, and I think they both viewed the Ninja 250 as a little putt-putt beginner's bike, not worthy of their time. Both had quickly upgraded to larger motorcycles. I passed at least one of them on at least one occasion (it's hard to keep track of whose back is whose, when most people are dressed nearly identically, and most of what you see is their rear tire).

The biggest problem I had on the track was that I was fractionally faster through the corners (because of being on a light bike, mostly) than other riders. I had to slow down to their pace through the corners, but then they'd pull away from me as the corner ended, with their more-powerful motors. So I was left in this situation of perpetually having to slow down (bad) for other riders, without being able to pass them (which would have been good).

On the whole, it was a good day, but the disorganization, crashes cancelling my sessions, and lack of noticeable progress served to dull it somewhat. It certainly wasn't a waste, and I'll be back, but I definitely won't be taking the class again. I'll have a more comprehensive write-up (for you masochists) in a few days.

Posted at 11:42 permanent link category: /motorcycle


Tue, 25 Sep 2007

It's official: too late, house-shoppers!

Yep, the open house this last Sunday was a total bust: 3 groups through, two of which wandered idly around the upper floor without even checking out the basement. They're obviously committed to the house-shopping process.

My awesome real estate agent, Charlotte Killien (with Windermere, look her up!) was completely unsurprised when I called Monday morning, and said I was done. She got the keybox off the front door, and the for sale sign will come down soon. I'm movin' back in, baby!

So, yeah. That's kind of exciting, and kind of disappointing all at the same time. I was looking forward to finding a new house. But then, moving back into this house will be pretty awesome. I spent a ton of time and money fixing it up to sell, and it's much nicer inside now than it was when I moved out.

Plus, as I believe I've mentioned, it will be so nice to move into the house fresh. When I first moved in, the house was in such an awful state that I had to spend a couple days cleaning up, changing locks, and trying to make it bearable.

My favorite anecdote to illustrate this is the "taking possession" story. You may enjoy looking at some pictures of the house at the time of inspection. I got all the paperwork signed, sent in all the money, and we set the hand-off date. I was to take possession of the house on a Wednesday. I'd specified in the closing documents that the seller had to do a bunch of cleaning and stuff-tossing (such as the huge, rotting pile of wood in the side yard). Naturally, none of this happened, because the seller was somewhat desperate, being in dire financial straits.

In any case, I got my keys, and walked through the house on Wednesday, to see what needed to be done. I think I was planning on cleaning up so I could move in on the weekend. The house was pretty gross, the kitchen walls and cabinets covered in grease, random trash strewn about, etc. Their move-out had been so hasty that they'd left behind a hamper full of stinking, well-used diapers. That was a bit much. I think I did some cleaning, and went away disgusted.

I came back two days later, on Friday, with Brooke (my girlfriend at the time, who would be living in the house with me). What did we discover, but that some of the trash was gone, and the stinking hamper had disappeared. Ok, cool enough that I didn't have to deal with a steaming barrel full of feces-soaked diapers, but how exactly did they get in!? See, when I took possession of the house, I kind of figured that meant it was mine, and anything they left behind was also mine by default. Not that I wanted it, but I figured that taking possession also meant I got all the keys. Apparently not. I changed all the locks to completely new units the next day.

So, that may give you an idea of what I moved into. It was nasty, and moving in was this sort of disturbing process of cleaning an area before I could put stuff there. As a result of that, and not knowing what I wanted to do, I never really got the house set up like I wanted. Shortly after we moved in, Brooke broke up with me, which was quite a wrench, and effectively prevented me from doing anything domestic for quite a while. This was, of course, to the detriment of my living situation, as I never got to all the projects I was going to do.

In any case, now, the house is clean and beautiful. Compare and contrast these pictures from August this year to the pictures I linked above. Just a bit different, particularly in the kitchen. The clean house plus my new-found desire to have a lot less junk around means this next phase will be pretty cool. It's not quite a new house, but it's nearly as good!

Posted at 10:30 permanent link category: /misc


Sat, 22 Sep 2007

The perfect end to an imperfect day (or, Fall is Here!)

Today started poorly: at 7:30 am, with a phone call from work. "Sorry to call so early, but we have a P1 case you're responsible for." Grimacing through the haze in my brain, I said, "What's broken?" The guy said something along the lines of "According to this email, flooblejabble and spiffnorgle are missing." I had no idea what he was talking about.

I agreed to look into it after he promised to send me email with the problem files. I looked into it. Turns out it wasn't my problem, in that I could do nothing about it, but it was my problem, in that I was still responsible for it. So, that was pretty much my Friday. It was, shall we say, taxing.

I'd arranged with my friend Jesse to go somewhere for dinner. We didn't really figure out where we were going until after I'd left work, and we came around to the idea of Pete's Grill and Pub, in Carnation. This is a bit of a ride, but we were both in the mood for it.

The ride out ended up being rainy and difficult due to twilight visibility plus rain plus fogging helmet shields. We made it without trouble, but we were both more pleased to be at the restaurant than that we'd ridden there. Normally, the reverse is true.

We passed several pleasant hours at Pete's, discussing all sorts of things we haven't had a chance to talk about much due to full schedules. Eventually, long after the food was finished and the bill paid, we were ready to head back.

The evening had gone from soggy to dry, although there was still a heavy overcast. The temperature was pleasant, neither warm nor cold. There was a bit of bite to the air, pleasantly foreshadowing autumn days to come.

We set off, following the same route we'd used to get there. However, this time, there was a huge difference. For one, it wasn't raining, but mostly, it smelled like fall.

For whatever reason, fall is the one season that makes me absolutely giddy. I love everything about it, although I can probably trace a lot of my joy back to (nerd alert!) going back to school. Whatever the source of that happiness, tonight was full of it.

As we wound up the Snoqualmie Valley, the cool night air was scented with the smells of summer retreating before the cold. Vegetation was changing, and the recent rain had unlocked a kaleidoscope of smells.

The most prominent, to me, was the smell of the ferns cracking their knuckles and getting down to business. You other plants, you summery, sun-loving plants? You can back off. It's my turn now. That's what that smell said to me. Don't get in the way of those ferns.

It also brought other smells: falling leaves, just starting to turn red and orange; damp soil, claiming back the ostentatious growth of summer; sluggish rivulets and creeks; pine and fir trees shaking off the doldrums.

There's a particular aroma to fall, and I only ever smell it in Woodinville, where I grew up, and which we passed through this evening. I think Woodinville must exist in a particular microclimate that fosters some odd subset of plant life. Whenever I go back there, I can smell it, like a salmon finding its way back to the tiny tributary where it spawned. It's the smell of home, and the smell of happiness.

Finally, on the far side of Paradise Lake Road, the scent dwindled, and faded in the face of the freeway. Still, for those glorious 20 minutes, Jesse and I were riding through our own personal versions of complete happiness. We compared notes later, it's really true.

Now that is a great way to end a crappy day.

Posted at 01:00 permanent link category: /motorcycle


Wed, 19 Sep 2007

The new house plan

So, the house isn't selling. It's just not.

Rather than being upset about this, I'm actually kind of excited. This means that all the money and sweat I poured into getting it ready for sale goes to.. me! I still have to refinance it, but I get to refinance for a smaller loan, since I've been slowly paying down the principal over time. And when I move back in, I'll move back in to a gloriously clean, shiny new house!

New paint. New floors. Maintained yard. New curtains. Everything's clean. New faucet in the bathroom. Finally, finally installed undercabinet lights in the kitchen.

All the work I put into the house earlier this year was primarily to fix it up after 7 years of not caring too much about appearances, piled on top of the previous owners moving out in such a rush that they didn't even get all their junk out. There were still crayon marks on the walls from pre-2000.

So it's really hard to view this as being a bad thing. As I've argued with myself over and over again, I don't dislike the house, I just don't really actively like it. The kitchen's great, but everything else is too small. The basement's too short to be active down there, at least for me. Kristin doesn't like basements, so that makes the whole basement space kind of wasted.

Well, we've actually worked out some solutions to these problems. Probably the biggest (and riskiest) one is to put the bedroom down in the basement. Yes, it means darker and colder, but then, the only time I go in my bedroom is really to sleep. Why should I dedicate a bright, warm room to being unconscious for eight hours? Much better to use that bright, warm room for daytime activities.

Also, just because some previous owner built their own shed in the back yard 50 years ago, doesn't mean I need to keep it. Inspired by my own desire for a shop, and my friend Jesse doing this exact thing, I think I'm going to yank out the old crappy shack back there, and replace it with a shiny new one that's actually usable! Same size, but well built, not rickety, and at least temporarily not full of spiders. If I do things right, I can probably even use it as a tiny shop space (10x12 is not a very large space for much of anything, but I could put a little bench in there).

The final "maybe hopefully" thing I'm going to do is put a garden in the back yard. Right now, the back yard is full of grass I never use, which requires either mowing or watering, neither of which I'm keen to do. It'd be so much better utilized growing vegetables and fruits. We'll see if it actually pans out, but with any luck, I'll have some of my own vegetables to eat next summer.

Posted at 23:22 permanent link category: /misc


The myriad ways of bicycle maintenance

First off, happy birthday, bicycle! I bought my Gary Fisher bike just over a year ago, on September 16, 2006. Since that time, I've racked up 1484 miles. If I hadn't moved to Fremont halfway through the year, I'd be closer to 2000 miles.

In any case, one of the recommended maintenance items to do about yearly is to service the wheel hubs. I'd never done this before, so like all new things, it sounded ominous and complicated. Of course, like many things that sound scary, it was simple.

I read up on the procedure, and it basically boils down to, "Take apart the hubs, get rid of the old ball bearings and grease, put in new ball bearings and grease, and put it all back together." The only tricky part is adjusting the bearings. I didn't actually find it very tricky, I just followed the instructions Sheldon Brown had written up, and it all went quite well.

Of course, it wouldn't make an interesting story if everything went perfectly. (Even with this complication, it probably doesn't make a very good story, but you're sitting here reading it anyway.) In their efforts to keep the bike from being astronomically expensive, Gary Fisher did what many companies do: they used some cheaper/knock-off components. In the case of this bike, they used hubs from Bontrager, an OEM-only manufacturer which probably produces fine parts. They're cheaper because they don't say Shimano or something on them, not necessarily because they suck.

Since the instructions said to replace the bearings (except in very expensive hubs, the balls are actually sitting loose in the bearing), I went to the bike store and asked for new bearings. The first question was, "What size do you need?" I had anticipated this, and said, "I have no idea, but I have the bike here." The nice man behind the counter said "Yeah, bring it over, let's take a look," with his voice, and "Not another one," with his body. I felt sorry for him, but the bike didn't come with a manual so detailed as to list bearing specs on the hubs.

I wheeled the bike over, and he sort of threw up his hands without actually throwing up his hands. "I guess I can give you the Shimano standard, will that work?" I had no idea, but it seemed reasonable, so I came away from the store with 22 3/16" balls, and 20 1/4" balls -- the front would take 10 per side of the smaller size, and the rear wheel would take 9 per side of the larger. I also got a couple extra, because loose ball bearings are essentially tools of the devil, and will disappear at the least provocation, usually when you need them most. By buying extra, I was effectively guaranteeing that none would go missing due to that corollary of Murphy's Law.

Anyway, I got the bike up on the stand at work, and took off the front wheel. The advice is to start on the front, since it doesn't have the complication of dealing with all the gears and such. It came apart as expected, using tools that I had bought previously for exactly this task when dealing with the Xtracycle wheels. I got all the balls out, and collected on a paper towel which had been strategically crumpled up to keep them from rolling off. I confidently grabbed my trusty little ziplock bag of new balls. I pulled one out and carefully compared it with an old ball: a perfect match. Cool! I counted out the balls on the paper towel, so I'd know how many to put back in. 1, 2, 3... 22, 23, 24. Wait a minute. 24? I counted again. Sure enough, there were 24 balls that came out of the front wheel. 12 per side. And I had bought... 22 balls. 10 per side plus a couple spares. Argh! Of course I managed to buy too few, even having gotten extras!

I mentally revised my schedule for tomorrow, moving the Xtracycle into the "active bike" slot as I planned errands. I'd just go to the very close bike shop at lunch, and get the extra balls to finish later.

I decided, as long as I was at it, that I might as well try doing the rear wheel. Maybe it would have a more expected number, but also if I needed more rear balls, I wanted to know before I headed to the shop. I was strongly reminded of working on the Xtracycle as I took the back end of the bike apart.

Fortunately, the back hub used the expected number of balls (9 per side). However, looking at a piece called the cone, each side looked a little worn. The advice I've read is to replace anything that looks even slightly worn. I decided I should go to a more distant bike shop tonight, since I had two things I needed.

So, out came the motorcycle (the logistics of where my various vehicles live is complex), and off to the bike shop. I retrieved my extra bearing balls, and asked the mechanic there to look at the cones. He declared them fit, and I headed back to finish the job.

I finally finished up around 10 pm. I had started at about 5, but I was going slowly and methodically, and had taken a surprisingly long time to clean off the individual chain rings as they'd come off the rear wheel. That trip to the bike shop in the middle really added to the time, though; it always does. I always try to have everything on hand, and somehow, there's usually something that slips through the cracks. Nothing kills progress on a project like the necessary trip to the store.

And, of course, I did more than just repack the hubs. As long as I was doin' stuff I also cleaned and lubricated the chain, adjusted the derailleur, and adjusted the brakes.

The nice thing about doing preventative maintenance is that you know you're doing the right thing. The bad thing is that there's very little sense of accomplishment. I didn't fix anything that was broken, I just kept it going. Nothing really got better. It'll last longer, but that's a pretty cerebral reward. In this case, conquering the new task was rewarding, but on the whole, it was not my favorite way to spend 5 hours.

Posted at 23:09 permanent link category: /bicycle


Wed, 12 Sep 2007

Kittius Maximus

Or, you know, minimus, as the case may be. Kristin and I went to look at Siberian cats again, this time in far-flung, wind-swept Ellensburg. We took some pictures of the feline event. Oh yes, it was full of kitties.

Young Miloš (pronounced "Mee-losh") will be joining us come early October. I anticipate several dB of hearing loss from the cooing and squealing.

Posted at 22:35 permanent link category: /misc


Tue, 11 Sep 2007

It's so green, it's UltraGreen!

I had a random idea last night, as we were driving out to Ellensburg to look at another batch of Siberian kittens:

Wave-powered desalination plant.

Think about it. Desalination is an energy-intensive process, which makes it hard for poor countries to do -- they don't have a lot of energy to spare, or energy delivery is intermittent. Many poor countries also exist in arid parts of the world, where water is a constant problem. For those on the coast, there's an abundant supply of water, but it's effectively poisoned by salt.

Wave-generation of electricity isn't a new idea, and I don't think it's terribly hard to implement. Even better, some desalination systems use high-pressure pumps to do their work, which could use kinetic energy straight from turbines, rather than having to convert energy to electricity and back. Stack one on top of the other, and all you need to do is run a freshwater pipe out of the station. Make 'em relatively cheap (a few million dollars each), and they'd be within the grasp of even the poorest countries. The US could probably even figure out a way to donate such stations.

The output is clean water, which can be used or sold as needed. If you need more water, you can put out more stations. Coastal countries could become suppliers of water to nearby landlocked countries.

It makes a lot of sense to me, but I have to admit, I know next to nothing about either wave power generation or desalination. Maybe it's not practical. But it sounds like a good idea to me. I officially place this idea in the public domain -- I'd like to see anyone work with it (and in any case, it seems pretty obvious to me, so I'm sure I'm not the only person thinking about it). (Yup, sure enough, Google reveals the fallacy of ever thinking you've had an original idea.)

Posted at 13:41 permanent link category: /misc


Sun, 09 Sep 2007

Wait, why is he up there!? Shit!

There is a convention, in the theater world, called "calling time." It's pretty much what you'd imagine, and if you ever watched the Muppet Show, you've seen it. It was when Scooter would run up into the guest's dressing room and call out, "Five minutes, Mr. Belafonte, five minutes!" That's pretty much it. The stage manager runs around, and tells people how long they have until they're on, making sure everything's ready, and dealing with any problems that arise.

So, the final step in calling time is shoving the actor out the door (at least metaphorically) and onto the stage. If the stage manager isn't on the ball, actors end up going on late or early, and it can cause real havoc. If the actors don't pay attention to the stage manager, and cue themselves, it can cause at least as much havoc.

For the purposes of SketchFest, we don't have any internal cues to give actors, they all handle that themselves. However, we (well, the stage manager, R.) tells them when to go on, and she gets the next group ready, and so on. This year, we're also having a "host," who comes out and warms up the audience a little bit before the show, and thanks them after the show.

The hosts are stand-up comedians, which sounds like a good idea (why not introduce comedy with comedy?), but is having some teething troubles. The biggest one we've encountered so far is that stand-up people are not, by and large, theater people.

Imagine, if you will, that you're sitting in the audience at SketchFest. You've just watched a great show, Ten West. They put on a neat, basically mum show which might put you in mind of a Vaudeville act, including bowler hats and suits with suspenders. The lights go down after the performers bow, then a solitary light comes up, where the host stood before the show.

Seconds pass, finally what feels like a full minute (and when you're facing an empty stage, a minute is a long time) goes by. Finally, the host trots out, and gives the traditional, "Let's have a big round of applause for Ten West!" Everyone applauds, lights change, you get up to have some beer.

That's kind of annoying, but (at least to me), an acceptable mistake to make. It really only impacts the host, and chances are good that it was his problem to start with.

As it happens, there was a technical problem with our video intro for Ten West, and I was frantically conferring with our amazing video creator, Josh Knisely. (Really, I'm very very impressed with Josh's work, he's done fantastic stuff for two years now.) Anyway, the intermission flew by as I was talking with Josh about how to fix the video problem.

I heard R. call 10 minutes over the headset as Josh and I were talking. Then I heard a 6 minute call as we were wrapping up. I turned to start getting ready for the next show (Karla, as it happens, a culture-lampooning duo from LA). To my horror, I saw the host standing on the stage, hoisting the microphone up to his lips. Oh, no.

At this point in the process, I was frantic from the DVD problem, and had done none of my preparation for Karla's show. The prep isn't hard, and it's only about 30 seconds of work, but in the high-stress booth, that's not such a clear-cut thing. Now I was looking at this guy standing on stage, practically tapping his foot, waiting for his light to come up.

Not ready to do anything else, I grabbed the slider for his light and slammed it up. H., my delightful sound operator, looked over at me, and said, "Did you hear places?" "No," I replied, "and I'm not ready!" We wasted a few more seconds in a similar vein, confirming that neither of us had spontaneously lost our reason. As the host (who, despite a long and rambling introduction to the first show, had spoken for perhaps 10 seconds this time), turned to go, I keyed the headset and said in a low, urgent voice, "The booth is not ready. Send him back out or something, but we are not ready to go."

H. and I scrambled through the frantic urgency, and got Karla's show prepped (which involves doing ten seconds or so of actual stuff, and then double- or triple-checking everything -- the double-check has saved me more than once). The host slinked back out, and said, in a slow obsequious drawl, "Well.... I've... been asked to... come out... and... stall. Staaaaaaaaaalllllllllllllll. Yeah, so..." (I'm not making that up, that's reasonably close to what he actually said, including the 10-second long, drawn out "stall.")

At this point, I somehow signaled to him that he was done (I don't remember now what I did, but I wouldn't be surprised to learn that it involved rude gestures), and he slunk back off the stage as his light went out. Karla's video intro ran, and we got through the show without any further problem.

I had doomy thoughts running through my head as the first sketch ran, though, since the first time we did Karla's show, I clipped several of their sketches short accidentally, one of them about 10 seconds after it started. I figured for sure that between the DVD not working, the host showing up 5 minutes too early, and the screw-ups in the previous show, I was screwed. But, it went off without a hitch, and my hastily scrawled notes kept me from killing their show again.

As we were scrambling around getting ready for the next show after Karla, I passed R. (the stage manager) at some point, and said, "We'll talk later," as she looked like she was about to explain. I was actually too busy to talk at that moment, although I was burning to know what had happened. I suspect my voice and face had an ominious, glowering quality about them, although I didn't really intend that.

After the shows were all done for the night, and we were getting ready for PUSH! (the experimental, "bring what you got" cabaret at midnight on Fridays), R. came up and gave me the story.

Apparently, feeling bad for having missed his cue at the end of Ten West (I didn't get the story on why that happened, although the Ten West show is about 10 minutes shorter than normal), the host was bound and determined not to do it again. R. had circled around (as she does) to check on all the things she needs to check on -- the lobby, the actors, the booth, etc. She called 6 minutes over the headset (this was just shy of 9 pm, which is the nominal "go" time, although we usually end up waiting for 5 minutes to catch any straggling audience members), and circled around to tell the host 6 minutes, only to find that he wasn't there.

Right around that time, she would have been hearing his amplified voice jabbering about something, overlaid with my urgent, "The booth is not ready." He had apparently cued himself, in contravention of all ingrained theater habits. Except, of course, that being a stand-up comedian, he didn't necessarily have much theater experience, and so had no ingrained habit of obeying the stage manager.

After he confidently strode off, I'll hazard a guess that he got a look sufficient to wither men's souls from R., before being urged to head back out on stage and stall for time. R. is sweet, but I wouldn't want to be in her bad graces. Fortunately, we work well together, so it's not an issue.

The stress over, R. and H. and I had a good chuckle, and went on to have a great session of PUSH!

I can't honestly say that the stand-up comedians we've had so far are doing a bad job. I couldn't possibly do what they're doing. They just need to have a few theatrical habits ingrained. You know, with a stick or something.

Posted at 12:28 permanent link category: /theater


Thu, 06 Sep 2007

SketchFest opens tonight!

Drop on by. It'll be a right good time. You can find the schedule and everything else you'll need on the SketchFest website.

If you do come (and I have any idea who you are (yay for random strangers on the Internet!)), poke your head in the booth and say hi. It's just on the left as you go into the theater.

Posted at 13:05 permanent link category: /theater


Wed, 05 Sep 2007

It's a Limited Time Offer!

I have a Plan. It's a decent Plan, and one which may be necessary given how things are going.

Yes, the house is only on the market for a limited time. I've got a fairly pesky balloon loan payment coming up in a few months, and ya know, I just don't feel like waiting for my perfect buyer to come along until the last minute.

So the house will only stay on the market until about October 1st. If I don't have an offer by then, it's getting pulled, and I'm movin' back in. I figure if this house can't sell for $385k, it's probably not worth selling right now. There's a difference between "Not ekeing every last dollar out of the sale" and "Shooting myself in the foot."

So if you know someone who's in the market for a house, send 'em my way by late September, or they're out of luck.

After all, I just put all this money into making my house look pretty, why not hang around and enjoy it? I'm talking under-cabinet lights here, people. And just think of the "Moving back in!" party I can have!

Posted at 06:56 permanent link category: /misc


Tue, 04 Sep 2007

The Electric Kool-Aid Kitty Test

Ok, this really has nothing to do with Ken Kesey or anything, I just liked the title.

Kristin has been eyeing Siberian cats as being one resolution to the conflict of my raging cat allergies and her primal desire for something cute and fluffy in her life (I'm told that although cute and arguably fluffy, I don't count).

We finally arranged everything for me to go have an allergy test yesterday. That is to say, we went and hung out at a house in Des Moines, near the airport, and had reluctant cats draped over me. I spent about an hour petting four different Siberian cats, being shed upon, and generally living the cat-life. With normal cats, this would have most likely provoked sniffles and some lung constriction.

The results, however, were inconclusive. We had just spent the weekend at Kristin's parents' house, where they have a Siamese cat. I am normally quite allergic to Siamese, although their cat isn't as allergenic as I normally find Siamese to be. So, I started out with a relatively high background allergy level, and I'm not sure which allergic symptoms were caused by the Siamese, and which were from the four Siberians.

I continued to be stuffed up the rest of the day, although my lungs didn't close up at all. I also sneezed considerably more than I usually do, but again, I don't know the source of that sneezing. It could have been the Siberians, or it could have been left over from the Siamese.

So, overall, not a very conclusive test.

The practical outcome of all this? I think we're getting a fluffy Siberian kitty. I didn't have a strong reaction to them, if I reacted at all. It seems like a worthy experiment. The place we visited will take a cat back if it doesn't work (for a reduced refund, of course). The only question is, how will Kristin take it if I end up being miserable after living with this cute little ball of fluff for a month?

Posted at 15:08 permanent link category: /misc


Thu, 30 Aug 2007

1413 miles, and I finally get a real flat

Yep, my rear tire blew on the way ome this evening. For the first time, it was a "real" flat, and not one of that foul string of "Whoops, where'd the rim liner go?" flats that plagued me early on.

It was just a pinch flat -- I jumped up a curb a little bit too fast, and a mile later the rear tire was flat. Ah well. By the time I had to get off, I was close enough to just walk, so walk I did.

I was pleased to note that the bearings in the rear wheel still feel excellent and smooth, so a quick repack with grease soon should keep them running for a long time. I'm also pleased to report that in ~1400 miles of urban riding through all sorts of crap, nothing has gotten through the Vittoria Randonneur Pro tires. There are a couple of external nicks, but the inside surface is unmarred and perfect. Thumbs up on the Vittorias.

Posted at 22:08 permanent link category: /bicycle


Taildragger lessons, this time for sure!

It's going to be a very aviatory few weeks.

I've got my Biennial Flight Review coming up tomorrow, and then I'll be going up in a Cub I just discovered at Northwest Aviation Center, located next door to the place I've been renting all these years. Of course.

I'm looking forward to the Cub flight. I tried last year to get lessons in a Cub, but the guy I was corresponding with mysteriously failed to return an email, and I got busy with other things, so it was quietly forgotten. Since this Cub belongs to an organization rather than a person (and they appear to be well organized from what I can tell), I'm much more confident it'll actually happen.

A taildragger endorsement is something I'll definitely need if I pursue the biplane thing. It also sounds interesting, as taildraggers (vs. the now standard tricycle gear, where the plane sits level on the ground) are normal for older planes.

Taildraggers are harder to deal with on the ground, since the center of gravity sits behind the wheels. The center of gravity in a tricycle plane is forward of the main wheels. This means that in a tricycle plane, its natural inclination is to go straight when you land -- the CG pulls the wheels forward.

In a taildragger, just the opposite is true: with the CG behind the wheels, it really wants to swap so that the CG leads the main wheels. This necessitates much more conscious handling on the ground to prevent that end-for-end swap from happening (called a "ground loop" when it happens).

A good analogy is using a hand truck -- if you pull it behind you, there's very little thought involved, it just follows where you pull it (this is equivalent of a tricycle plane). If you push it in front of you (with the wheels in front of the center of gravity), you must pay attention or it'll suddenly divert off to the side.

This is all compounded by the fact that the taildragger airplane uses a little tiny wheel, with very little weight on it, to do the steering. Some taildraggers don't even have a steering tailwheel, you're expected to steer by applying brakes to one side or the other, or using the rudder.

So, for all that I can explain what the problems are, that sort of knowledge hasn't ever translated into physical skill, in my experience. It'll be interesting to see how it all applies once I get my feet on the rudder pedals.

Posted at 10:45 permanent link category: /aviation


Wed, 29 Aug 2007

The Housely shuffle

So, my house has been on the market since August 3rd. Only, for all the people who've been through to look at it, none of them apparently liked it enough to stoop to making an offer. Hmm.

My real-estate agent and I decided that, what with the awful news in the housing market right now (perhaps you've noticed that the news is chock full of stories about the sub-prime mortgage market? yeah, turns out that impacts normal mortgages too), perhaps a lower price was in order.

So, the house will be repriced to $385k just in time for Labor Day. Hopefully someone finds that a more appealing price.

It's a bummer, of course, because that means that my next house must necessarily drop $15k... Sigh.

Posted at 15:12 permanent link category: /misc


Tue, 28 Aug 2007

Biplane-ride postscript

A necessary post-script to the last entry is: Thank you John! I really appreciate his willingness to take me up and introduce me to both the world of biplanes and the world of aerobatics. I hope he isn't discouraged by my negative-sounding entry.

As I explained to him after the flight, it's very important that I get some experience with these planes before I go devoting a huge chunk of my time and money towards one. If it ends up I don't like them very much, well, thank god I found out now rather than 2 years, $3000 and 300 hours into the project.

For what it's worth, my thoughts now are more positive as I separate the aerobatic experience from the biplane experience in my head. I still know for sure that aerobatics aren't for me, but the biplane question deserves more research.

As I had somewhat expected, I dreamed about the experience, but not in the way I'd expected. Instead of dreams about falling out of planes, or anything obvious like that, I had a dream that I'd helped John refuel the plane, but in my ham-handedness ended up overfilling the fuel tank. He instructed me to just add a little bit, perhaps a quart or two, and I ended up spraying two and a half gallons in. I'm sure it's closely related to my inability to control the plane well in the air.

The nice thing about my lack of ability to control the plane in the air is, well, I've never flown that plane before. How should I possibly know how to control it well? I'm being too hard on myself to expect perfect, smooth abilities in a plane which everyone acknowledges is many times more nimble (and therefore sensitive) than anything else I've ever flown. That's a problem that can be easily fixed with practice. I did it to get where I am now with theater, writing, motorcycles and Cessnas, I can do it with a sensitive biplane, too.

Posted at 11:32 permanent link category: /aviation


Mon, 27 Aug 2007

My First Biplane (Ride)

I got a message on the Biplane Forum today, and it was John (a local pilot I've been chatting with about going up in his Christen Eagle II). He was confirming that we were still on for our flight today.

Doubletake

Hmm, I thought to myself. I thought that was in a month... Indeed, we'd crossed our dates up, and I'd scheduled for September 27th; he, for August 27th. No matter, I didn't have any firm plans for the evening, so I headed down through nasty commute-time traffic and met him at the Renton airport.

John is a genial guy, and I enjoyed talking with him. We discussed his plane, its history, the 10-way partnership which owns it, and its recent work -- they re-covered the wings. The plane was built in 1981 by a group of 10 people, and many of their changes were integrated into later kits. Apparently a lot of them were Boeing engineers.

He asked whether I wanted to just go up and cruise around, or do acrobatics. I thought for a second and said, "Acrobatics." I pretty much figured acrobatics weren't my cup of tea, but I wanted to find out for sure. We talked about what we'd do in the air: a 2-point roll, a loop, and a reverse cuban eight. He explained how the parachute worked, and how to fasten the straps.

Pre-flight discussion and check done, he rolled the plane out of the hangar. We climbed in, and he got me strapped into the plane: a belt over each shoulder, one to each side, lap-belt style, and one between the legs. Then, there was the redundant lap-belt, an extra safety measure instituted after one aerobatic competitor died from an unfastened strap.

He fired up the engine, and we taxied out. He positioned the plane on the runway. I saw the throttle lever move itself forward (the cockpits are positioned tandem, or front-and-back, rather than side-to-side), and I was pressed back into the seat, the engine throbbing loudly in my head. The 200 HP motor pulled the plane aggressively forward. It should, that's 2x the power and 90% of the weight of the 152 I've flown most recently.

The plane fairly bounded into the air, sprung up from a dip in the runway. We climbed quickly. I have no idea how quickly, as there was no vertical speed indicator, but it was fast. Clear of the airport, he gave me control of the airplane. The ride immediately went from smooth to bobbling and wonky. I overcontrolled, and basically ignored the rudder pedals. I felt like I was falling sideways out of the plane on alternating sides. I commented over the intercom that I wasn't yet a stick and rudder pilot, and John laughed drily.

He took the plane back, and cleared the area by doing a few turns. The nose of the plane is prominent, and blocks a good portion of the view. After the turns, and a few calls on the radio, he set us up for our first maneuver: a 2-point roll. This is a roll where you roll over to inverted, hold it, and then roll back to upright. He asked if I was ready, and I gave the thumbs up.

Suddenly, the plane twitched to the left, the world went upside-down, and I was hanging from the harness, the earth trying to yank me out of the plane. It twitched again, and the world was right side up again. John asked how I was doing, and I said I was fine. I was fine, but I can't say I was having a fun time.

Next was a loop. He reminded me of the magic word: "hook!" The idea is you say this word, which tightens up the diaphragm, and at the same time, tense up your legs and everything else. This keeps your blood from dropping precipitously out of your head during positive-G maneuvers. It's kind of a cheap version of the fancy high-G suits worn by fighter pilots.

He dove to pick up some speed, and pulled up. I said "hook!" and tensed up. My cheeks sagged and my head felt precariously heavy. The sky filled my view, and then we were at the top, and I sagged onto the straps once more, feeling like I was one thread away from falling out of the plane. We continued back out to level.

I asked how much altitude the loop had taken, and John said we'd entered at 3500 feet, peaked at 4100, and come out at 3600. That's pretty cool, and doubtless one of the joys of a powerful, light plane.

Our final maneuver was a reverse cuban eight, which is (as I understood it), a climb, with a roll to inverted, and then a loop back out to upright. Which is to say, roll over so gravity tugged hard at my harness, then remember to "hook!" and tense up as gravity pulled my face down into a parody of an 80 year old man.

We were done with the aerobatics, and my stomach caught up with me. I started sweating in a delayed stress reaction from the wildly variable forces which had been acting on me. John asked what I thought, and I gave him my assessment as far as I could make it at that point: "I don't think I like aerobatics much."

We headed back to the airport, flying under the Seattle Class B airspace. The landing was quite smooth, and I was interested to note that John touched the tailwheel down just before the mains. We rolled out and taxied back to the hangar.

We talked for perhaps half an hour after the flight, sipping water from a tiny refrigerator which seemed to be stocked for the purpose of cooling anti-nausea water. It did help. I wasn't exactly nauseated, but I wasn't really steady either. That was easily the most thrown-around I've been in a very long time. In fact, even now, hours after the flight, my stomach still feels a bit odd. John explained that for his first few aerobatic lessons he had to sit in the car for 20 minutes after the lesson before he felt up to driving home.

We parted company, and I rode home, thinking distressed thoughts about the folly of building a biplane. The time we spent in the air was essentially unlike what I'd been expecting, which bugged me. The problem is, I'd imagined aerobatics as basically feeling like sitting in a straight-and-level plane but with the horizon doing crazy things around me. I'd been intellectually aware that it must involve high G-forces, but the reality of it never really sank in until I was feeling my face sag as I tensed my body to keep the blood up in my head.

Similarly, despite all the pictures I'd seen, and the planes I saw at Arlington, the actual experience of sitting in a biplane was very claustrophobic and cramped. It wasn't uncomfortable for the time we were up, but it was obvious that flying to Portland would be pretty much out of the question from a comfort standpoint. The sound and vibration would team up with the one-and-only position you could sit in, and really make a long flight miserable. An open cockpit (the Eagle is fully enclosed) would make it even worse, from the standpoint of comfort.

The actual feeling of flying the plane, for the 4 minutes I did it, was depressing, more than anything else. I had no sense of how to get the plane to do what I wanted, with the result that we bobbled around the sky more like someone playing a video game than an experienced pilot guiding an airplane. I couldn't feel the rudder pedals, so the only way I knew I'd pressed on one was when I felt like I was being tipped sideways out of the cockpit. Flying with coordination was out of the question, I was just trying to keep it aimed in the right general direction.

From talking with John afterwards, this is pretty much how all first-time pilots treat the plane. I'm not alone. Even so, I prefer to think I fly pretty smoothly (which I do, in the big, dull Cessnas -- they don't give you the control response to make mistakes); it was a blow to my sensitive little ego to fly John's plane so poorly.

To be fair, the Christen Eagle is a very sensitive, sporty plane. It's not quite up to the level of a hot competitive aerobatic showstopper, but it's close, perhaps 80% up the scale from what I understand. The Acro Sport II, which is my theoretical choice, is not so far up, perhaps 60% or 70% (with the Cessnas coming in around 30-40%).

This is part of the problem: the Eagle is so vastly outside my experience that I don't really have a place to put it. It's just somewhere out there, well beyond what I'm comfortable with. Of course, if I only do what's comfortable in life, it's not going to be very interesting. I do need to push myself beyond my comfort zone once in a while.

As I told John after our flight, I now need to separate the "biplane" from the "aerobatics." More importantly, I need to see if I can get up in an Acro Sport II. I guessed, and confirmed, that aerobatics weren't for me. Now I need to see if biplanes are for me, without aerobatics getting in the way.

Posted at 23:45 permanent link category: /aviation


Every Passing Day Brings a New Waffle

Waffling. I'm definitely doing it. Yep.

Today's (well, this week's) waffle is this: building a plane. Pro: neat project, fun to work on, at the end of it I have a plane to fly. Con: expensive, hugely time consuming, at the end of it I have a plane which consumes money and petrochemicals.

I've mentioned this many times before, and it always comes down to this fundamental choice: is the task of building a plane worth the monetary, social and environmental cost of contributing another gas-guzzler to the world?

The math is pretty depressing. The very fastest I'd finish a plane is about 5 years. So, that'd be 2013 if I started reasonably soon. More likely, it would take me 7-10 years, which puts us as far out as 2017. What do you think gas prices are going to be like in 2013-2017? I'm guessing they're not going to be pretty, probably $5-7 per gallon of 87 octane auto gas. Aviation gas (which is what my flying money-pit will need) typically costs 150% auto gas, so I could expect to pay as much as $10-11 per gallon to fly.

So, that's one factor: an hour in my shiny new biplane could cost around $100 (10 gallons per hour, typically), just for gasoline. Oil will be another $10, give or take.

However, that ignores the consistent rumors that 100LL aviation gasoline will no longer be produced in the near future. I'm not talking idle rumors from cranks on message boards, either: AOPA is worried, too.

So, there's every chance that I could be spending most of my free time and a lot of money towards a thing that, when done, can't be used. Oh, there'll surely be some kind of compromise fuel discovered that will work, but I'd guess that 150% comparison to auto gas won't hold true any more. What will it be replaced with? Who knows! I'm guessing it'll exceed my recreation budget, though.

Does this all mean I'm giving up on building a plane? Not really, but it's not very encouraging, either. I keep hoping someone will come up with a breakthrough fuel cell or something, but I'm not holding my breath.

Posted at 14:37 permanent link category: /aviation


Wed, 22 Aug 2007

The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step

My first-ever airplane part arrived today:

[Indicator,
Airspeed, Used]

In case it's unclear, that's an airspeed indicator, registering 40 to 200 MPH (and 40 to 180 knots in the subscale). It's definitely used, but it was also cheap, at $50 plus shipping. I'm not absolutely convinced it works, but it'll be simple enough to check.

If it works, I saved $250. If it doesn't, I have a pricey conversation piece. Either way, I'm pretty pleased.

I might have to get a pitot tube set up on my motorcycle and do some "testing."

Posted at 15:45 permanent link category: /aviation


Tue, 21 Aug 2007

Teriyaki Burger Shakes

A picture, as they say, is worth a thousand words.

The signs, which leap out at me every time I pass this place, say,

Manna Teriyaki

Burger Shakes

Come in for a surprise!

Um. Yeah. (Is it any surprise the parking lot is empty?)

Posted at 13:48 permanent link category: /misc


Wed, 15 Aug 2007

Streaks in the sky

I was looking at the Astronomy picture of the day for today, and the ensuing discussion of what the streaks could be.

This reminded me of a period of about 20 seconds in the summer of 2004, when I saw what could only be satellites, but satellites as I've never seen them before: grouped into a diamond pattern, like planes flying in formation.

They moved very smoothly across the sky, approximately from south to north. I forget the exact count, but it was between 4 and 7. I could see them through binoculars, but they were essentially invisible to the naked eye. There was no vapor trail, and they were moving much faster than a commercial jet at that distance, so I'm sure they were in orbit.

The weird thing was, why the group? Who would set up a group of satellites to move in a delta pattern? The only probable answer is that they were spy satellites, or something like that, perhaps using their separation for parallax measurement. Iridium and other low earth orbit satellites travel singly in their orbits.

It was a very odd experience, and I avoided freaking out about it, since the only reasonable explanation was probably a government secret, and that left only unreasonable explanations as alternatives (aliens! super-high-speed jets!). Still, I wonder what they were.

Posted at 10:46 permanent link category: /astronomy


Mon, 13 Aug 2007

Look, there, on the horizon! It's SketchFest!

The time is fast approaching -- time for SketchFest Seattle!

I just sent out my intro email to the groups. I won't reveal who they are here, since it's not up on the website yet, but I can tell you that this year's lineup kicks ass. I'm really looking forward to the festival. Plus, at least one of them has already acknowledged that I am their Tech God, which is gratifying. I'm actually the Tech Director, but, you know, I'll take what I can get.

This year, we're soliciting video intros for groups. There's still time if you want to try your hand at the funny, without all that pressure of an audience staring at you. Plus, free tickets!

But, I'm not just here to shill for SketchFest, I'm also here to shill for me! Come watch shows at SketchFest so you can see my masterful tech work -- in fact, you'll barely notice it, which is how it's supposed to be!

The festival is happening on September 6th, 7th and 8th, and on the 13th, 14th, and 15th. Shows are at 8:00 on Thursdays, and 8:00 and 10:00 on Fridays and Saturday, with at least two groups per show. Every night is a different set of groups, so every night you miss is 2-5 acts you miss.

I'm sure the website will be updated soon, and you can see who all's coming, and what the schedule will be like. It's always fun to tech direct these things, and it's even better to be in the audience, where you don't have to worry about anything but laughing.

Posted at 16:03 permanent link category: /theater


Maybe I was Wrong

Seattle coping with I-5 traffic congestion through work site

Maybe, hopefully, I was wrong. Maybe Seattle drivers really can get out of their cars and take mass transit when they have a reason to.

Or, you know, maybe everyone will read that story (or others like it) and decide it wouldn't hurt if they got back in the car, just to see if they could sneak through while everyone is is on the train....

Posted at 15:46 permanent link category: /misc


Fri, 10 Aug 2007

A Jaunty Scenario

This is a local post, so if you're not from the Seattle area, it may not make too much sense. Sorry about that.

If you do live in Seattle, hoo boy. Be ready for some nasty traffic.

I-5 northbound is closing down to one lane, just south of the I-90 interchange. It's closing for 20 days, more or less. You can read more about it on this WSDOT page.

Now comes the fun part. 405 is also undergoing construction during this time, so it's gonna be packed. Most people will either take 405 if they need to go all the way north, or they'll take 99 if their destination is closer to Seattle.

Only, the northbound deck of the Alaskan Way Viaduct rates 9% on the same scale used to give the collapsed I-35W bridge in Minnesota a 50, according to this nationalbridges.com entry. So, the huge mass of traffic that normally takes I-5 has to go somewhere, and probably 50% of it is going to try cramming onto 99.

According to this page, there are 1663 vehicles per general purpose lane per hour, and 1230 vehicles per HOV lane per hour during the morning peak on I-5 at Corson Avenue, which is about where they're doing the construction. There are 4 normal lanes at Corson (roughly -- there's actually an onramp and an exit lane as well, but let's ignore those to keep the math realistic), and an HOV lane. So that's 7882 vehicles per hour across that section of I-5 north.

Then, according to this story, the Alaskan Way Viaduct (the excitingly dangerous 9%-rated part of Highway 99 that traverses downtown Seattle) carries 9000 vehicles per hour at peak. It doesn't specify whether that's one direction or both, so for the sake of argument let's say it's both directions. That means that northbound traffic on the viaduct is at least half that number, probably more like 2/3. Let's call it 6000 vehicles in the morning going north, for the sake of moderately realistic numbers.

So, we have 6000 vehicles per hour going north on 99, normally. We have 7882 vehicles per hour going north on I-5. Roughly half the traffic from I-5 should be spilling over onto 99; call it 3900 vehicles per hour during the peak. That's roughly another 2/3 more traffic than the viaduct sees now, for a total of 9900 vehicles per hour during the morning peak.

I don't know about you, but that sounds like an unwise burden on a bridge that's ranked in the 9th percentile. Because, of course, all those cars will be getting on the viaduct and parking, since it can't possibly carry that kind of capacity. Oh, but they'll move occasionally, just to make sure that they continue being a "live load" instead of a static load (dynamic loads are much harder on bridges than static loads).

Sounds like a pretty grim scenario to me. I'm not looking forward to the death toll when that bridge takes a dive mid next week. Thanks for the indecision, Seattle voters and politicians!

Posted at 11:03 permanent link category: /misc


Wed, 08 Aug 2007

Jerk or not?

Allow me to describe a situation.

Kristin and I are walking in downtown Fremont, the time is about 10:45 at night. Traffic is light, maybe a couple cars a minute. Streets are well-lit.

We walk down the west side of Fremont Ave, towards the water. Ahead of us is the bridge, and a weird intersection where no left turn is allowed from our direction, although the opposing direction can turn right. The cross street on which no left turn is allowed is 34th. You can see the intersection on this satellite photo.

We decide to cross Fremont Ave at 34th, taking advantage of a "green" light (white person-walking light). I see two bicyclists approaching down Fremont, perpendicular to our new path, parallel to our old path. They're riding in the inner southbound lane. There's one car stopped in the outer lane, and no one coming the other direction. There's no cross traffic, although cross-traffic has the green light.

Biker #1 rides casually through the red light, and turns left against the no-left-turn sign. I call out, "I guess the red light doesn't mean much, huh?" and get no response. Louder, I jovially call out, "Thanks for obeying the law!" and see that bikers #2-4 have now traversed the intersection against the light and against the sign. Biker #3 calls back, "You're welcome!" without any positive or negative inflection in his voice.

I'm sure that their interpretation was that I harbored ill will towards bicyclists, and was one of the grumpy people who thinks they suck (this city is rife with them, if you believe some of the comments that come out on local articles). Of course, on the contrary, I'm glad they're riding, but I wish they'd stop breaking the law, particularly in front of other people -- it dilutes any sense that bikers deserve equal treatment on the road.

So, the question is, am I a jerk for calling them on their illegal and questionably responsible behavior? I've started doing this more and more, and actually ended up yelling at the top of my lungs at a group of cyclists I was coincidentally riding with, when all but me blew through a stop sign in front of a car which would have otherwise had right-of-way.

I'm yelling at them because I want them (and me) to get more respect on the road, not less. However, there's no simple way to say that, so I have to resort to calling out "Stop sign!" or "Red light!" I feel like a jerk, but at the same time, I feel that if no one says anything, it's going to keep going until fed up drivers pay us no mind at all. Once that threshold is reached, injuries and fatalities will climb precipitously, and we'll likely lose any political headway made on things like increased bike access from the city. The image of the selfish, smug, insensitive biker is already present in most car drivers' minds, so it seems foolish to feed it.

I guess that, even stronger than my sense I'm being a jerk is my sense that if I don't start calling bikers on their bullshit, no one else will.

Posted at 23:56 permanent link category: /bicycle


Bikey product reviews

I've been buying stuff for a while, some of which may not be properly appreciated. So, I present my thoughts on a few of them.

Planet Bike Beamer 5 - Bicycle headlight. This is one of those lights which is intended to increase your visibility to other riders. It was hyped to me by a salesman at REI as being better than the CatEye HL-EL410 for two main reasons: it takes AA batteries instead of AAA, and it's got a better mounting system.

These differences are both true, plus his third point that the PB light doesn't blind you with its blinkiness (the CatEye has a ring all the way around to increase side visibility, but it also shines light into the rider's eyes). However, what he failed to mention is that the beam on the PB light sucks. Its main beam is very narrow, with these weird splotches of light created by the lens system. The resulting light is difficult to see unless straight-on. By contrast, the CatEye's lens-and-reflector system makes it more visible off-axis. The CatEye's beam is no larger than the PB's (at least, that of the HL-EL400, which is the previous model isn't), but it somehow manages to be a much more visible light.

I also find that, while riding along, I can't tell if the PB light is on or not. I have to move my hand in front of it to make sure, whereas with the CatEye, that's never a concern.

The Planet Bike light costs less, at $25 vs. $40, but if I had it to do over again, I'd get the newer CatEye. The PB light is a newer product, and it shows. Some features are better thought out, but the primary attribute -- how well it makes my presence known to other traffic -- is lacking.

R.E.Load Bags Civilian. I got this bag about 6 months ago, and have been loving it. R.E.Load will make a bag pretty much to order, including custom graphics and all. I opted for a simple burgundy and black bag, with grey edging, and I think it looks very classy. I also got the twin front pockets, and am very glad I did.

It's holding up well, and I feel that this bag compares very favorably with my older (and smaller) Timbuk2 bag. I highly recommend the R.E.Load bags, but be prepared for a few weeks' wait before your order is filled.

I'm not sure what else to say -- it's a shoulder bag. It seems to repel water. It holds stuff. I think it's very well designed, and is well-suited to use as a bicycle bag. The factories (well, rooms full of industrial sewing machines and tattoo'd hipsters, anyway) are located in Seattle and Philadelphia, and it's very much worth a trip in to see what they can do, if you're close enough.

Topeak Mini Morph small tire pump. I got this pump very soon after getting my new Gary Fisher bike. Very soon. It seems that the incompetent mechanic who installed my new tires (ie, me) screwed up the delicate, one-use-only rim tape supplied on the bike's rims, and started an epidemic of flat tires.

The first such flat, fortunately, happened near the REI flagship store, so I stopped in and bought tire-fixin' supplies -- of course, I had all this stuff at home, but I wasn't about to walk 5+ miles to get it. This pump was recommended to me over the others for one simple reason: it braces against the ground. Rather than mounting the end of the pump on the valve stem, you unfold a tiny foot, and brace the end of the pump on the ground. A short hose folds out, and attaches to the valve stem. The joy of this is that you can now use your weight, instead of your underdeveloped chest and arm muscles, to pump up the tire.

It works very well. I've been entirely pleased with this pump, and recommend it to anyone who needs a lightweight, carry-along pump. It takes a few minutes to re-inflate a tire due to the small pumped volume, but it works, and has no problem hitting the ~85 PSI I tend to keep my tires at. And, it's much easier to use than if I'd had to press against myself instead of the ground.

Posted at 19:33 permanent link category: /bicycle


Fri, 03 Aug 2007

The house, it is listed

I'm pleased to see that my house is now listed on the Windermere site, and will presumably be picked up by MLS any moment now:

My house listing

Looks pretty good. Anyone want to buy a house?

(See also my gallery of house pictures.)

Posted at 12:11 permanent link category: /misc


Thu, 02 Aug 2007

Protesting on Stone Way

The Cascade Bicycle Alliance and seattlelikesbikes.org set up a protest ride yesterday, around Fremont. Since it was so close to home, and is actually an issue I care about, I decided that, for the first time in my life, I would join in on a protest. It was helped along by the insistence that people behave legally, and by the fact that we'd be doing exactly what the city was asking us to do in order to demonstrate why it wasn't safe.

The experience itself was basically pleasant, riding around with a bunch of other bicyclists. What I found interesting was the number of people who were waving and cheering from the sidelines. Normally, I think of protests as being this big obnoxious crowd of people that nobody likes (thanks to going to Evergreen). I also think of them as being fractured and ridiculous, where you get people with "Free Mumia" signs at an abortion rally. Huh?

FOX news was there, smirking (or something)
It was a very large crowd
My friends Josh and Cam were also there
I saw exactly one counter-protester
Fremont Way, waiting for the left turn light
Fremont Way again
Waiting to cross Fremont Ave

Anyway, it was pretty cool, and I was pleased with how it went. I don't think it changed anyone's mind, but it was fun to do, and it probably opened the eyes of at least one or two car drivers. Opened them to what, I'm not sure, but hopefully to the existence of bicycles on the roads.

I only made a few laps, as I was meeting up with some friends who'd stopped half-way through to prevent a minor medical problem from turning into a big problem. Even so, I got to ride with some interesting people, and chat with them. Notably I rode the whole thing with someone who works next door, at the new Google office in Fremont. I also ended up riding with a pair of women, with whom I discussed cycling clothes and our decision to ride in whatever we were wearing rather than donning the spandex costume -- it really made a difference for me, and allowed me to ride daily. One of them was wearing mid-calf high, strapped motorcycle boots! Definitely not what you normally see on bicyclists.

So, yay for seattlelikesbikes.org for organizing a legal and safe protest, which effectively demonstrated why they were protesting. It was better than most, and I'm glad I participated. I hope it made a difference, but I'm not holding my breath.

Posted at 12:19 permanent link category: /bicycle


Mon, 30 Jul 2007

Well done, idiot thief

The Ignition Switch Mangler is back. I came home today to see the bike cover was too far up, suggesting someone had lifted it and incompletely replaced it. Indeed, the ignition switch was torn up. I was upset at the time, but already (about 5 hours later) I'm mostly laughing.

Ok, so this thief ('cause I'm sure it's the same moron) tries once with his screwdriver. Jam, turn, nothing happens. Well, he did break off the tip of the screwdriver, which was a real bummer for me. I get the bike back in shape, and decide that in order to provide extra incentive, I'll leave the cover on it at all times, and run a thick steel cable conspicuously from the bike to a nearby sturdy structure.

Moron boy shows up with another screwdriver, lifts the cover (having apparently missed the cable) and tries the exact same trick again. Shockingly, it fails again. Even if he did break the switch into a million pieces, he still has to deal with a cable lock fastened to a 4" thick steel structural member. I can't imagine what kind of stunning intellect would produce this action, but it puts me in mind of what someone told me was a Chinese proverb:

The true definition of madness is to do the same thing twice and expect a different result the second time.

Posted at 23:59 permanent link category: /motorcycle


House pictures

You may enjoy looking through some house pictures I took tonight as I was getting it cleaned up. The documents are signed, and we're on schedule to get the house on the market this Friday. It's priced at $399,950, so tell your friends.

House pictures

Enjoy!

Posted at 23:52 permanent link category: /misc


Thu, 26 Jul 2007

He was so lazy... How lazy was he?

I'm being sent to San Jose in a few weeks to help deal with a big thingy at work. I was informed that I might need to drive myself offsite to do some datacenter work, and that I should reserve a rental car.

So, I went to the site, and added a car to my reservation thing. There were two checkboxes under "Options:"

Air Conditioning
Automatic Transmission

I thought to myself, Huh, cool, maybe I can get a manual! I unchecked the "Automatic Transmission" checkbox to see what would happen. The form was rejected, saying "No cars meet the requested criteria" and I was urged to go try again.

Then it hit me: we are a nation so incredibly lazy, that we can't even be bothered to shift the gears of the transmissions in our massively wasteful labor-saving devices.

Posted at 14:18 permanent link category: /misc


Tue, 24 Jul 2007

Open Letter to Greg Nickels

I just sent this in to the Mayor's office, but I'm sure it'll be put in the circular-file long before Nickels actually sees it:

Mayor Nickels, why are you already backing out of the Bicycle Master Plan? I'm referring to the section of Stone Way between the Ship Canal and 50th, which has mysteriously reverted to a non-bicycle route (as detailed here: http://www.thestranger.com/seattle/Content?oid=267463). I thought I'd read that it was your priority to put in bike lanes wherever there was new road construction. I guess that was just something you said, to appease people, just like any politician.

I was so proud to live in a city which had committed to bicycle safety and a healthier environment. I was amazed at the forward steps which seemed to be shown in the Bicycle Master Plan presented earlier this year. Now, I find that in fact I'm living in the same politician-infested, corporate-controlled rat-trap I expect out of Washington, DC.

So, I will continue to bicycle along congested streets (have you ever ridden up Stone Way there? It's daunting, mostly for the complete lack of bicycle lanes). My cynicism about politics and government has proven time and again to be well-founded in reality, so that will continue as well. Thanks for "keeping it real," and crushing that glimmer of hope I had.

Posted at 09:34 permanent link category: /bicycle


Sat, 21 Jul 2007

New video

I've just uploaded my latest silly video. This one (strictly for the motorcycle geeks) shows how to roll up an Aerostich Roadcrafter suit to make it more manageable once you've taken it off:

Posted at 22:22 permanent link category: /motorcycle


Thu, 19 Jul 2007

All better (for now)

In a big fat hurrah for me, my new ignition switch arrived last night. The reality of doing the work hit me, and I made a pilgrimmage up to my house to collect tools. (Brief history: on July 4th, I discovered some moron had tried to steal my Ninja 250 by jamming a screwdriver in the lock and twisting -- he failed, but left the lock unuseable.)

So, I went up and collected all the tools I thought I'd need. I knew I'd forget something, but I didn't know what.

I got the bike apart with surprising speed. The Kawasaki tech I'd talked to apparently didn't have much clue about how to do this -- he said I'd need to take apart most of the bike's front-end, which just wasn't true.

Then, I was presented with the problem: Kawasaki uses "security bolts" where the grippable part of the bolt's head breaks off. It makes them harder to remove, but not impossible. For instance, I removed mine by drilling the heads off. I didn't do it well, but that was my attempt.

It turns out that although I was able to drill off the heads of the bolts, I also drilled too far into the bolt shafts. When I got the switch off, I discovered that there was essentially no shaft sticking up, which pretty much nixed my clever idea of just unscrewing the shafts with vice-grips. sigh.

So, it was trip number 2 up to my house, to get the drill and the screw extractor. As I'm sure you can imagine, there were a few impolite words uttered as part of this whole process. I stopped by the hardware store to get a propane torch (something I've been vaguely wanting for a while), since the bolts were held in with red thread locker, which is a really effective glue. Heat softens it, and increases the chances of success when removing things that have been threadlocked in.

Fortunately, I already had a screw extractor, this clever little gizmo that you drill into the broken-off bolt, and it seats and expands while turning counter-clockwise, until the bolt comes right out. Well, that's the way it should work, but naturally it didn't.

Due to the thread locker, I managed to damage the screw extractor. Not enough to destroy it, but enough to reduce its effectiveness. I had, perhaps foolishly, decided to see if I could get the bolt out without heat (thinking I could return the torch if it wasn't necessary). That obviously wasn't happening, so I re-drilled the extractor's hole, and played the torch over the area for 20 seconds. This time, it came out, although still reluctantly. The second one went easier, since I'd figured out the process on the first one.

Then it was back to the apartment, to install the new ignition switch. Putting it all back together was actually very straightforward. The only hard part was remembering the order in which the fairing screws go into the gas tank -- there's a particular order, and I got it wrong 3 or 4 times. I finally pulled all the bolts out and "reset" myself, and got it done. For some reason, the fairing never quite matches up to the gas tank, which was true on both Ninja 250s I've had.

Anyway, I was done by 10:30, and had the cover back on the bike, and a stout steel cable running to a nearby railing. I suppose someone might still come along and mess up the new lock, but if they did, it'd have to be out of pure malice.

Posted at 11:40 permanent link category: /motorcycle


Sat, 14 Jul 2007

Arlington, Part II

I was dissappointed that the gas welding forum wasn't happening, so I wandered. The weather was doing strange things, but the rain had stopped (I got to use my new umbrella for both rain and sun that day), and heavy clouds were visually duking it out in the sky.

Finally, and surprisingly quickly, 1 pm rolled around, and it was time for another workshop. I had a choice between TIG welding and fabric covering, and I vacillated for a bit, but finally decided on fabric covering. I know that's something I'll be doing, and I was really curious how it's done, since no one really talks about the process itself.

The workshop was presented by Poly-Fiber, one of the manufacturers of fabric and related chemicals, so I started out a little skeptical. However, the presenter himself (Gary, maybe? let's go with Gary) almost immediately explained that all the fabric comes from one mill, and the only difference is which stamp the put on it. That was good to hear, and he established that he didn't sell anything himself, so at least Gary wasn't completely biased. He's actually an aircraft mechanic in Canada.

Anyway, he talked for a while about the old way of doing it (cotton and butyrate dope) and the new way of doing it (unshrunk polyester and heat). A major difference between the two is that the cotton fabric had to be sewn into the right shape, and slipped on the piece to be covered (imagine sewing a sock big enough to fit around a wing or fuselage!). The polyester, on the other hand, can be adhered to the piece with glue. Gary allowed that now, it's likely we have adhesive sufficiently strong to adhere cotton as well, but cotton still lacks compared to polyester.

The other big difference is that polyester shrinks with heat. You apply a 250° iron to it, and it shrinks 5%. Apply a 350° iron to it, and it shrinks another 5%. Apply a 400° iron to it, and it starts permanently relaxing (ie, unshrinking), and at 426° it melts. So, obviously temperature control is important.

Cotton, on the other hand, is shrunk with water and about 27 coats of dope, each coat requiring sanding before the next. It's a lot more work. Apparently you can also finish polyester with dope, but it's still a lot of coats and sanding.

Anyway, the cool part of this workshop is that it was hands-on. Gary had a half-dozen steel frames on tables, and each was set up with a piece of fabric and a little tub of glue. We introduced ourselves to our neighbors, and set up two to a frame. In short order, we had the frame half-covered, and it didn't take long before it was entirely covered. The guy I was working with, Jim, and I managed to get the fabric fairly taut to begin with, but by the time we had it glued on and shrunk to fit, it was really tight. We were very happy with how easy and effective the process was.

The panel Jim and I worked on

The panel Jim and I worked on

Pressing down with about 10-15 lbs of pressure

Ian, happy with his results

The final task (as we listened to the airshow planes diving and twirling outside -- the workshop ran 30 minutes over time) was to remove the fabric for the next class. So, I pulled out my knife and slashed each section diagonally on one side, and we started pulling it off. The fabric was very difficult to rip, and only marginally easier to pull off the glue lines.

Most interestingly (I wish I'd gotten a picture of this), on the flip side, I'd just scored the fabric, without actually cutting through it. On the final panel, it was very lightly scored, and I tried punching through it. And again. And again. The scored line got wider, but it took 5 or 6 full-strength punches before it separated. That fabric is amazingly tough. Jim and I were both very impressed.

The final bit of presentation was on finishing the fabric. Interestingly, Gary said categorically that auto and house paint won't work because they'll crack from vibration. He also said that the scraps of fabric were souvenirs, so I grabbed a few, thinking I might do weathering tests with them.

It was funny, I could feel Gary's audience straining to go watch the airshow as he was standing there, explaining about paint, with the engine noises occasionally completely covering his voice. I'm surprised he ran over so far on time, since he'd done this same presentation at least 4-5 times already this week.

Getting out of the fabric workshop, I walked towards the airshow viewing area. There was (no surprise) an airplane flying around, trailing smoke. I guess I'm not very enthralled with airshow displays.

I realized at this point that I hadn't really eaten anything since 6:00 in the morning, so I walked back to the "food court" area (actually numerous carney-style booths selling corndogs and caramel apples). I was beginning to despair of finding food I might want to eat, when I spotted a place claiming to sell Mexican-style food such as quesadillas and soft tacos. I ordered a cheese quesadilla (yes, I know, redundant) after establishing that it wasn't made with that horrible plastic squirty cheese (I think I asked exactly that question: "Is the quesadilla made with that horrible plastic squirty cheese?" pointing at a display dish covered in flourescent orange goo). I also got a can of coke. Total bill? $7.50. Sheesh. Oh, but it included "salsa," which seemed to be ketchup with corn and black beans in it, and no spice whatsoever. It was acceptable as food, but definitely overpriced.

I watched the airplanes cavorting overhead, and chewed on my cheese-thing. It felt good to sit down, as this day entailed a lot of walking around.

I walked back and sat down to watch the airshow for a bit after lunch. It was impressive to watch the airplanes dancing around the sky, flying straight up for quite a distance before kicking the tail over. Perhaps most impressive about the displays is that the majority of the acrobatic planes were home-built.

The airshow concluded with a "military parade" which left me with mixed feelings -- my inner savage-child was screaming "Cool!" and the thinking upper layers were getting that sinking feeling of looking at instruments of death.

Military parade

Light tank?

Yes, he's holding up a Tommy gun

Ah, airplane, I like airplanes

Mmm, radial engine

Wait, is that Russian?

What is that thing?

The late afternoon involved a lot of wandering around, looking for biplanes, but there just weren't many to be seen. I did find the acrobatic section, with a number of Christen Eagles painted in the distinctive color-burst scheme, which I really dislike.

Acrobatic biplane

And its panel

Christen Eagle

Eventually, I found myself back at the Chapter 84 tent, talking with Tom about his plane. Specifically, I asked him about welding, which seems like it's going to be in my future. He suggested, in short, that I should start with gas welding. That's the conclusion I'd been coming to, but it was very nice to hear a real person say that. I find myself distrusting semi-anonymous Internet postings on what appear to be contentious topics. TIG vs. gas welding seems to be one of those topics.

Tom, working on his Starduster Too wing, while Guy With Hat looks on

Tom working

Guy With Hat looks on

There was another person who was hanging around the 84 tent, who was one of those people who just talks and talks. As it happens, that's a habit that really gets on my nerves, so I was kind of annoyed to see he was still there -- he'd been there, talking at Tom before the fabric workshop as well. Still, I was very happy to have met Tom, and am looking forward to attending Chapter 84 meetings.

Finally, it was time to go. I'd been there since 7:30 in the morning, and it was now past 6, nearing 7. I walked towards the parking lot, and diverted when I realized that I'd never investigated the airplane rides being offered. I would kick myself if getting a ride in a biplane or a Beech 18 was available and I didn't even check it out.

I hit the Biplane Rides! booth, and saw that they were charging $60 per person. I asked a bit about the plane (some 1929 era plane I'd never heard of), and we established that $60 bought you 10-15 minutes in the air. I thought about it, and decided that was a waste of money -- I'm going to be getting plenty of biplane rides for $100+ per hour some time in the future if I proceed with this airplane project, so the $360/hr rate seemed a tad steep.

I did take the opportunity to take pictures of the plane, though. It was in excellent condition, and surprisingly had a four-place front cockpit: it'd been designed and built for taking people up on rides.

The ride-giving biplane

Now that's a simple panel

A front cockpit built for 4

Dramatic sunset light

Ok, really, time to head home. I walked back to the parking lot, going by way of the biplanes, when of course I noticed a new one. I went to look at it, and ended up following the pilot and a helper as they pushed it to its parking spot. It was a modified Acro Sport II (a plane which is, coincidentally, looking more attractive for my purposes), painted a very deep red, with black scallops on the wings. Pretty sharp looking. The pilot immediately took off, but said the builder would be by in five minutes. I waited a few minutes, but hunger and the desire to not be standing any more got the better of me. I walked back in the direction of the parking lot, stopping to take a few more pictures.

Modified Acro Sport II

Modified Acro Sport II

Modified Acro Sport II

Modified Acro Sport II panel

I was hailed at this point, "What are you going to do with all those pictures?" I walked over and started chatting with the guy (who was selling his Starduster Too for a mere $36k), and we ended up talking for about an hour. During that time another Starduster Too pulled in, and an extremely tall man climbed out. He explained that he'd gotten his tailwheel endorsement on July 4th, which means he had about 10 hours in a taildragger, if even that much. Daring, but I guess you gotta do what you gotta do when you buy a new plane.

I looked at my watch and realized it was almost 8 pm. I excused myself, and walked back to the sidecar rig. It was definitely time, as the sun sank below the trees. I had fun, but it was time to go home.

Posted at 11:34 permanent link category: /aviation


Fri, 13 Jul 2007

Oh Arlington, my Arlington

See all the pictures I took in the gallery.

I took the day off from work today, and toddled on up to the Arlington Fly-In, which the promoters claim is the 3rd largest fly-in in the US. Hard for me to know whether that claim is true or not, as this was my first fly-in.

The gates opened at 8, and not wanting to be stuck behind a huge crowd, I arrived around 7:30. This involved waking up at the incomprehensible hour of 5:45 am, but it wasn't so bad, since I didn't comprehend it. I made the trip on the sidecar rig, since the Ninja's down with Idiot Thief problems.

I needn't have worried about the crowd. I have the impression that the crowd was actually unusually sparse. There seemed to be maybe several hundred people there, and I had the impression they usually expect 5-10x that many people. Good for me, but bad for the EAA, I guess.

Beech 18

Beech 18

Beech 18 engine

Beech 18

Anyway, after wandering past a display of several Beech 18s (my favorite pipe-dream/alternate reality plane), I wandered until I found the biplane section. Unfortunately, there were only a few, and they all seemed to be exactly the same model. I was really hoping to see a variety of different planes up close, but my goal was thwarted. They were all Starduster Toos, which are a pretty plane, but too heavy, and very complex-looking to build.

Starduster Too

Also a Starduster Too

Another Starduster Too

Yet another Starduster Too, this one based in St. Helens

No, wait, this one's an Acroduster II (closely related)

One thing I found very interesting is that all these biplanes seemed really small. I'd had this impression that all the biplanes I was looking at were absolutely huge, but in reality they were quite small. It makes sense, when I think about it, but it was a surprising (and somewhat encouraging) realization.

Too soon, the first forum I wanted to attend was upon me. I ducked into an unnaturally dark tent, and listened to an uninspired man talk about tailwheel flying. He had good information, but it was mostly stuff I already knew, so I've probably finished the "ground school" portion of my tailwheel education. Interestingly, he's based out of Scappoose, which is very near my parents' house. Hmmm.... (One of the Stardusters was based out of St. Helens, which is near Scappoose. Double-hmm!)

During the talk on tailwheel flying, the weather decided to assert itself, and we heard rolling thunder getting closer. Then it got really close. Moments later, fat, heavy drops of rain started hitting the tent, and it got even darker as a huge thunderhead must have passed overhead. The rain resolved into a steady patter. The tent filled up with extra people who'd decided that listening to tailwheel droning was better than getting wet. (The guy was actually fine to listen to, but his style of presentation could have used some work.)

Tailwheel man ran over by 15 minutes, but I had some time to wander. I continued along the way I'd been going, and went through all the vendor tents. Nothing too exciting, although I'm sure that'll change (mostly my attitude will change, I mean) if/when I start building.

After the vendors, I found the EAA chapter 84 tent. This was pretty interesting to me because EAA chapter 84 is full of people who are actually building airplanes. Chapter 26, which is the Seattle chapter, and meets at Boeing Field, is full of people who.... meet once a month, as far as I can tell. Chapter 84, which meets in Snohomish, at Harvey Field (likely future home of any biplanes I happen to build), is much more active.

In fact, I met a man named Tom, who's building a Starduster Too (same as all those biplanes I saw out in the judging area), and has been for 15 years. He said he's been at it off and on during that time, it's not as if he's been working diligently for 15 years. He and I ended up chatting about a few things before it was time to excuse myself for the gas welding forum. I wandered over to the tent (conveniently just next to the tent I was already in), but there was no evidence of gas welding.

I asked the person who looked to be in charge whether he would be teaching gas welding, and he said no, the gas welder was off doing something else, and he'd be teaching sheetmetal bending. Dissapointed, I wandered off to find something else to do -- sheetmetal is low on my list of priorities.

The St. Helens Starduster Too

The St. Helens plane's panel

And its passenger panel

The next hour or two consisted of wandering around and looking at planes. I chatted some more with the guy from St. Helens (me: "I'm thinking of building a biplane." him: "Gee, you look sane enough [why would you want to do a thing like that?]").

Next episode: I learn that punching out airplane fabric is harder than it looks.

Posted at 23:59 permanent link category: /aviation


Sat, 07 Jul 2007

As I type this, I'm sitting on a ferry

It's been an eventful week. I haven't posted much because I've been doing so much. Let's catch up.

Monday and Tuesday were spent working on the house, primarily getting trim sorted out. I had it cut to fit by Saturday, but couldn't get to the store to buy the stain until Monday. That was fine, since Sunday was the day I applied the pre-treatment (Benite) to the wood, getting it ready for stain, and it needed a day to dry. Monday saw the stain all trimmed, and Tuesday saw it all installed. Installing baseboard trim isn't as difficult as I would have thought, but I definitely took shortcuts -- for instance, I really should have shaved the trim so it matched all the waves and whoop-de-doos in the floor... Ah well, it still looks a whole lot better than it did.

Wednesday was the really notable day. I had this great plan in mind: I would ride up on the motorcycle (I'd been bicycling previously), so I'd have my riding gear with me, and I'd take the sidecar rig out for a ride. So I got myself all dressed up for motorcycling, and went out to the bike. Set my stuff down, and started to get ready, when I noticed a glob of something on the ignition switch. "What's that? Caulk?" I thought to myself, apparently having home-repair materials on the brain. On closer inspection, I realized that no, it wasn't caulk, it was mangled metal. Yep, someone tried to steal my bike using the old standard "hammer and screwdriver" method. It still doesn't work. I swore under my breath and tried my key. No go.

After some investigation, it turns out that they mangled the first wafer of the lock, which completely prevents the key from going in, or the lock from ever turning again. This is a bad thing in two ways. First, and most obviously, it means the bike is unrideable. Secondly, and less obviously, the forks were locked (the ignition switch drops a pin into the frame, which prevents the handlebars from turning); this was good in that it prevented the idiot with the screwdriver from simply rolling the bike away, but bad in the sense that fixing the busted lock is considerably more complicated when the forks are locked. It looks like I can plan on spending about 4 hours on the job, once the new lock comes in....

Wednesday, however, continued pretty well. I grumpily changed out of my motorcycling gear and got out my bicycle. The ride up to the house was no more difficult than it ever is, so at least that wasn't a big deal. Once there, I finally tackled the job I should have finished in 2004: installing under-cabinet lights in the kitchen. It ended up taking all day, but I got a late start. When I was done, it was a beautiful thing to finally see that second switch, which had so long sat idle, flip on those lights. It's not quite the perfect system I might have wished for, but it works pretty well -- mostly, I decided against putting lights over the sink, which had been part of the original goal.

If you check your calendar, you'll see that Wednesday was the 4th. Of July. So, naturally (weather permitting), I wanted to go flying. As I mentioned previously, I did go flying, and we had a great time. Kristin and I went up by ourselves, despite invitations to a few other people to join us. Ah well, it was a lot of fun, and I like flying the little Cessna 152 better than the bigger 172s. We brought along the video camera, and Kristin shot 50 minutes of footage, including my atrocious landing. I clearly need to practice night landings. Scroll down to see a link to that video.

Thursday dawned well enough, my mood having been lifted by the success with the under-cabinet lights and the good flight the night before. I bicycled up to the house (still grumbling under my breath that now I was bicycling because I had no other choice), and got to work. The big event for Thursday was taking some trash up to the dump. In particular, that awful latticework under the deck had to go.

I had tried to arrange a truck for a dump run, but my friends with trucks have stopped paying attention to voicemail and never answer their phones, so I decided I'd better just do it myself. I laid out one of the canvas dropcloths from painting in the back of the minivan. Floor successfully covered, I started loading in chunks of lattice, which had largely disintegrated as I pulled it off. In the end, I probably had 500 lbs of lattice, and other junk I've been meaning to throw away forever. There was a tremendous line at the dump, and it ended up taking 20 minutes to get in once I'd arrived. Fortunately, that line was keeping people from actually getting in and dumping, so once I got in, I was quickly done.

Thursday night culminated in downloading the video from the 4th, and cutting it up for YouTube.

Friday was the Day of Paint. I had one coat left to do in the bathroom, and three coats to do in the stairway down to the basement. It took me a long time to decide to do the stairway, since I was really quite sick of painting. However, the walls in there were pretty awful -- not only ugly stucco, but with mysteriously unpainted sections, and lots of crayon marks and other violence from previous residents. So, pretty much all I did on Friday was paint.

The other, non-house thing I did, was to cart my motorcycle gear up to the house, so I could ride the sidecar rig. I caught the 5:30 ferry, and finally met Kristin's brother Paul, who recently returned to the land of the living after a years-long drug binge, living homeless in Hawaii. He seems to have recovered quite well, and the sober lifestyle is sticking. It was pleasing to finally meet him; I've heard lots of stories from when Kristin was younger.

Which brings me to now, riding the ferry back to Seattle. Today will be a day full of paint and little jobs, I suspect. The stairway needs its last coat of paint, and there are a ton of little things which need to be done. But, and this is important to me, the stairway painting is the last "big" job I have to do on the house. Everything else is little stuff, which can be successfully completed in an evening, if necessary (meaning I don't need to take more days off to do them). Something like painting or dealing with trim can be tried in an evening, but it'll either be very long, or necessitate cutting it off half-way done to come back the next night. I'm glad I'll be past that point.

But now the boat is pulling into Seattle, and I'd best get my helmet on and get ready to go. Here's to progress!

Posted at 23:37 permanent link category: /misc


Fri, 06 Jul 2007

Night Flight (with video!)

Kristin and I went up in a Cessna 152 for the fourth of July. As I commented to her after the flight, "We only spent $150 on that for both of us -- we got off cheap!" She replied, "Yeah, my neighbor must have spent $200-300 easily on fireworks..."

As you can see, the view was pretty good:

The flight is from Paine Field in Everett, down to Seattle, back and forth over Ballard, Fremont and Wallingford, then back to Everett. If you listen carefully at the end, you can hear me say, "That was a terrible landing!" It wasn't that bad, but I flared higher than I'd wanted to, which resulted in a fair bump rather than a nice slick roll. Oh well. It's one of the perils of night landings, although interestingly not one I've ever suffered from before.

Enjoy! (No, the sound never gets more interesting. I may re-cut it later with music.)

Posted at 10:04 permanent link category: /aviation


Mon, 02 Jul 2007

I Bought a (Dream) Plane!

Of course, the experience was basically stressful, so it was more of an anxiety dream than one of those good dreams.

On a whim (in my dream), I decided to buy a plane. I don't know what the reasoning was, but awake-logic suggests that $20k spent on building a plane vs. just buying one for $20k might suddenly make sense. In any case, I suddenly owned a plane. Perhaps it was a Cessna 152. I was overjoyed!

Then I started looking closer. Apparently, I had bought a plane without even doing a rudimentary pre-flight inspection, much less done any of the research one would normally do. The prop had a sharp wave in one blade, as if it were folded back on itself, then inexpertly straightened again. I realized that this had to have been a prop strike, which is not only a problem for the prop, but a death knell for the engine.

Then I realized that I hadn't thought to check the log books (assuming the plane even had log books). Nor had I hired a mechanic to look it over for me (which I do with motorcycles). In fact, I had effecively walked up to this plane with barely a glance and said, "I'll take it!"

Then, of course, the anxiety really set in, as I started spinning over the fact that I had just bought this plane at full market value for a functional, airworthy airplane, but had in fact purchased something which was barely worth anything as scrap. (This situation is actually a reflection of my waking life, where I bought a minivan for the "functional" price, then found it had a broken head gasket; but that's a different story, and only involves $3k.)

By the time 5 am rolled around, I was awake enough to start planning out this very journal entry, having realized it was a dream and that I was not in fact out twenty grand for a jumbled pile of scrap aluminum. Hooray?

Posted at 08:56 permanent link category: /aviation


Sun, 01 Jul 2007

It's time to say goodbye

I realized today that I haven't fired up the sidecar rig in something over a month. It'd been a long time before that. Really, it just doesn't fill a need for me any more.

So, I've decided to put it up for sale:

http://seattle.craigslist.org/see/mcy/364370224.html

If you know anyone who's interested, pass them my way. Notably, the rig includes the full "normal" Goldwing fairing and a variety of windshields for the sidecar. It'd make a great cheap touring rig for someone (still seems to run well).

I'll be kind of sad to see it go, but also kind of relieved I don't have to worry about it any more. My next sidecar rig will be lighter and newer.

Posted at 21:32 permanent link category: /motorcycle


Wed, 27 Jun 2007

Ok, yeah, scary

I found this video linked on one of the airplane forums I frequent:

Me, personally, I find that video to be full of the scary. Horrible portents and all that, dystopian sci-fi films, all the way down to the ominous Soviet-sounding march/dirge in the background. The over-zealous announcer clinches the deal.

I mentioned this on the aforementioned airplane forum, and was reminded that, whatever I may prefer to believe, I'm probably the only guy interested in building an airplane who's also interested in seeing us stop building more and more efficient ways to kill each other (since we invariably use them -- one reason I never want to carry a gun, ever). The response of everyone else was overwhelmingly positive on the new plane.

So yeah, note to self: don't engage in political discussion on Internet forums. Check.

Posted at 18:11 permanent link category: /aviation


Tue, 26 Jun 2007

A vignette: traffic

For various and sundry reasons, I was on the motorcycle today. I finally extricated myself from work around 5:45, and headed for home. This is a silly ride, since I now live 5 minutes walk from work, but I had the bike, and wanted to get it home.

I travelled by scenic byway for the most part, but the last 1/4 mile was by the relatively heavily-used Bridge Way. Bridge Way is not only busy, it is relieved by a short traffic light at Fremont Ave, meaning that backups are common, particularly at commute times.

So, background laid. I left turn onto Bridge, and match up with traffic. Into the right lane -- the left lane railroads you onto Aurora southbound, which I definitely don't want. Traffic comes to a stop ahead, but I get through the light before Aurora. But traffic is stopped.

I notice that there's a truck in my left blindspot which hasn't passed me yet. He probably wants over, but I wasn't sufficiently aware of him not-passing until I was stopped with no room for him. Tough luck, I guess.

I look up as he passes, and see a puffy, fat face with a wannabe-policeman moustache and tousled brown hair sitting at the steering wheel. He's driving one of the recent-model trucks, maybe a Ford, with the step-side bed; the kind that makes me think of ex-frat boys with baseball caps and beer bellies. He inches forward until he's wedged his truck in between the island on the left, and the Subaru Forrester on the right. The Forrester doesn't move, because, of course, there's nowhere for it to go.

Suddenly, I'm aware of the loud, barking sound of a sportbike with a racing exhaust ("OFF-ROAD USE ONLY") behind me. I hear it pull up, and then it's next to me. I look over.

"Yo jamba wonga doo hee?" asks the rider. I have no idea what he actually said, but I'm sure he's asking permission to pull in front of me in the traffic line. I shrug non-committally, because I know it won't matter what I say; he would pull in front of me anyway. In he pulls, the exhaust yipping and snarling at me. I see that he's wearing thin-looking bowling shoes with no socks, nylon running shorts, a T-shirt, a full face helmet, and chunky, high-bling motorcycling gloves. His one-strap backpack rests listlessly across his back. Classy.

He sees the truck wedged in ahead of us. I can see his helmet move as he checks it out.

The traffic starts moving. Truck-man has sufficiently cowed the Subaru driver, who sits still and waves him in. The truck wobbles forward, into the newly empty space. I see Mr. Sportbike shake his head in despair at the rude truck driver.

He rides off, with his right blinker incessantly signalling, from back when he pulled in front of me. His mind is full of despair at the state of drivers today.

Posted at 18:33 permanent link category: /motorcycle


Sun, 24 Jun 2007

Quickie: carbon fiber cello pics are up

Just a quick note that my pictures of the Luis and Clark carbon fiber cello are up:

Posted at 18:42 permanent link category: /misc


Color me photographed

Just for randomness value, I set up a Flickr account for myself, since I want to start posting photos. Figured I'd give it a try.

Posted at 00:49 permanent link category: /misc


Sat, 23 Jun 2007

Crazy plans, crazy planes

I feel like my "maybe, could be" plans about building a plane are starting to firm up. To recap:

Mid-July last year, I had a sudden and powerful yen to build an airplane. I talked myself out of it as being too expensive (which it is) and horrible for the environment (which it is). Then, in June this year, I came back to the idea, and it started to sound good again. It's still expensive, but has always been manageable. It's still bad for the environment, but I'm kind of looking at it as using my "gas ration" that I'm not using any more (the last time I bought gas was... weeks ago, maybe?). Between living in Fremont (ie, 5 minutes' walk from work), and being able to bike damn near anywhere I need to (including Boeing Field and the top of Queen Anne hill -- I'm almost invincible!), I'm not feeling so bad about the whole fossil fuels equation any more.

Anyway, so now, I'm starting to develop a coherent plan. The most appealing choice of plane so far is the Ragwing Special II:

This is a plane which is only available as plans (which I previously considered extra-crazy, but have come around on), and the plans are $100. That means it costs me $100 to dip a toe in the water and see what I think. First thing I can build is a rib, which is a built-up structure about 3 feet long and shaped like a geometrical fish. I'll eventually have to build ~40 of them, so building one gives me a taste of what I'm in for without spending more than a few bucks in wood and a couple hours of time.

The plane that eventually springs forth, fully formed from the aether (ahem), flies at around 90-100 mph cruise, and will use around 3.5-4 gallons per hour. That's over 25 mpg in reasonble circumstances. I'll be doing better than the majority of cars.

It'll have two seats, and the weight capacity to carry a moderately heavy passenger, particularly if we make it a short flight with minimal fuel (to keep weight down). That gives me a chance to fly my dad around, which is one of my definite goals, even if I only ever do it once or twice.

The current engine of choice is called a Jabiru 2200, and is an 85 HP four-cylinder, designed specifically for airplane use. It's spendy, but over the likely 2-4 year timespan of building, I can probably find one used for a lot less than the new price. I read somewhere that the recommended maximum weight for the engine is 180 lbs, so that knocks out most of my other choices, such as the Rotec R-2800 radial, or a Continental C-90/O-200. Besides, if I keep the engine light, then I have that much more weight capacity available for passengers.

I know I'm going to want at least a basic electrical system (I could in theory build a plane with no electrical system at all, and hand-prop the engine -- it's lighter, but I'd rather not). I'll want electric-start on the motor, as well as lights so I can fly at night, and enough equipment to fly over Seattle (a transponder and a radio).

I've had some interesting thoughts about lights using some of the new super-bright LEDs they're putting in flashlights. I figure that using 6 of them together is enough for a landing light, and they can also be used for position lights on the wingtips and tail. A major advantage of LEDs is they use much less power, so the wires don't have to be as fat -- and that means less weight (see where I'm going with all this?). Also, the less equipment I have to run, the smaller the battery can be, etc. etc. Light weight is key.

A worry I'd had on this project was pondering spending $8-20 a foot (not board-foot either!) for aircraft-certified spruce. That is, until I found out that the local lumber yards carry spruce, and for about 1/8-1/15 the cost. I can self-certify the wood according to the same spec and methods the Army and Navy used in WWII (when a lot of wood went into a lot of airplanes), and come out spending much less money. I even have clever plans for how to test ultimate strength on the wood I choose, so I know how it compares to the wood with the official seal on it. That combined with information on wood equivalencies make me pretty confident I can do this without breaking the bank.

In fact, the only big tool I "need" which I don't already have is a table saw (or radial-arm saw, I'm not sure which is a better choice yet). There are also about a million clamps and doubtless a small truckload of other things I'm not thinking about, but none of it feels overwhelming or scary.

After all that, the one thing I haven't decided yet? Whether I'm actually going to do it. It sounds grand, but I haven't come solidly to the conclusion that it's a project I should undertake. That one will come with time. Check back in a year or two, and the answer should be clear.

Posted at 23:33 permanent link category: /aviation


Wed, 20 Jun 2007

A little light practice

The weather was so nice today that I dropped everything, and headed for the airport after work.

I took a Cessna 152 up, and practiced steep turns. I also flew over Harvey Field, trying to find it again by pilotage (no GPS; shocking, I know). I found it, partially by aiming for the hot air balloon:

[Picture of hot air balloon]

I found myself over Harvey, and snapped a few pictures from the air for the heck of it. None of them turned out very well, but this one is kind of clear:

[Picture of Harvey field]

Then I flew back to Paine, and flew some touch-n-goes. I must have been distracted for a few of them, because my patterns sucked and my touch-downs sucked. When I actually paid attention, I was able to set the tires down without a problem, but a couple of those landings were atrocious. 5 landings, with only two of them worthy of the name. Ah well, I got other stuff right. It didn't help to hear the grinding noise wind up as the tires got up to speed -- them's some dying bearings.

After I got the plane back to its spot and tied down, I was struck by the casual symmetry of all these airplane tails alternating down the line:

[Picture of airplane tails]

It was a pretty nice flight. Landing goofiness aside, I did well. Thinking about it consciously this time, I definitely think I would have enjoyed the flight more if I'd been in an open-cockpit plane. I'll have to work on that.

Link to all the pictures from that flight

Posted at 23:33 permanent link category: /aviation


Thu, 14 Jun 2007

A pretty night

I was riding back from Boeing Field tonight, and re-discovered to my dismay that the Fremont Bridge was closed. Being on a bicycle (and lemme tell ya, Fremont to Boeing Field and back is no slackerly ride), I was, shall we say, dismayed. I had to ride up the hill to the Aurora Bridge to get across the water.

Rather than gripe about it, though, I took advantage of the opportunity to take a picture of the singularly pretty evening we had:


Seattle's Lake Union at night

This picture was taken looking east over Lake Union. The hill with the towers on it is Capitol Hill. Downtown is just visible on the far right edge of the picture.

I just got a fancy schmancy new camera, so this journal may be the vessel of further Attempted Art. You've been warned.

Posted at 23:45 permanent link category: /misc


Mon, 11 Jun 2007

A Day in the Life

I was working on the house yesterday, having ridden myself there on the Xtracycle, laundry in tow. Painting and doing the thousand tasks you forgot you have to do is tiring, and around 2, I decided it was lunch time. I considered my options, and decided that the Subway shop a few blocks away sounded good.

In a fit of laziness, I decided to ride there instead of walking -- I also didn't want to waste too much time, since all this house work seems to be at least 50% wasting time anyway. I mounted up, and started riding.

I came to a stop at the stoplight, and waited for it to turn. There was the typical weekend rush of cars headed for Ballard on 105th, which I ignored. The light changed (if I hit the sensor just right, this is one of the lights I can actually trigger on a bicycle), and I started across the intersection, looking for moving cars.

I heard a short horn-honk, and looked up. I was expecting to see someone mad at me for some reason, but instead I saw a bright red convertible. There was a woman sitting at the wheel, with blond hair and large sunglasses. She was waving at me, that sort of palm-formard, fold-at-knuckles, "Heya sailor" wave. I didn't recognize her, and am pretty sure I don't know anyone with a red convertible. I nodded, and rode on. I thought half a block later that I should have honked back, but it was too late.

I don't know what to make of it, but there are some funny spins: does she dig pasty guys on cargo bikes? A fan of the environment, cheering on alt-transport? Beer goggles? The mind reels at the possibilities.

I'll just assume for now that she's a fan of pasty bicyclists with oversized legs. Everyone's ego needs a little support now and then.

Posted at 09:52 permanent link category: /bicycle


Sun, 03 Jun 2007

A good day

Finally, things pretty much went right today. Not that things have been going horribly or anything, but it was somewhat remarkable to have a day where everything just clicked.

The day started with a 9 am meet-up with my house painter. He was already going at it, as I pulled up at 9, and we chatted briefly. Things looked to be on track, so I left him to it.

I got myself inside, unsure if I was going to be overwhelmed by fumes or not. "Not" ended up being the answer, so I pulled on my paintin' clothes and went to town. The bedroom is fully primed, and the hallway and the office are fully painted... well, pretty close, anyway.

After lunch, I didn't have enough time to start painting with real paint, so I got up on the roof and started pulling down antenna wires, so they wouldn't be painted onto the house. As long as I was up there, I also took down two of the three antennas on the house (the last one will take more than one person).

That accomplished, I cleaned up a little bit, and saw that I was exactly in time to head home, take a shower, and get ready for a performance in the afternoon. I played cello in a brief song at a wedding. Not actually anyone I knew, but the singer in our group was presenting the song as a wedding present, and I was in the band, so I performed too. It was interesting and fun, and that was my first public performance on the cello since about 10th grade. Didn't do half bad, either.

Music done, Kristin and I had a lovely dinner at Paddy Coynes, our favorite Irish pub (if you go there, try the potato leek soup; yum!). Suitably stuffed with pub food, we went home to relax for a bit.

Now, I've had airplane on the brain for the last week or so, and I finally decided to do something about it. I scheduled myself for two hours of airplane + instructor at my favorite FBO this evening, after dark, so I could re-certify for day and night flight.

So, I sat down to do my homework before the flight. I checked the weather by web and by phone, and reviewed the various speeds for the airplane I was going to be in. The weather looked ideal (warm and clear with minimal wind). The speeds were quickly memorized.

I packed up, and hopped on the bike. After a frustrating circuit of Wallingford due to repaving work on 45th, I was on the freeway, headed for Everett. The ride out was nice, the temperature perfect, and traffic relatively light.

The flight itself went off perfectly. I finally found an instructor I like, and I grabbed his card this time. He had me do some stalls and steep turns, and we did some stop-n-goes to get me night legal. I got my sign-off, and happily tootled back home on the motorcycle.

Finally, a positive flight experience! It's almost enough to get me all atwitter about flying again. It certainly doesn't dampen my resurgent enthusiasm for building a plane.

Posted at 00:44 permanent link category: /misc


Wed, 30 May 2007

Waiting for the Interurban is back, mostly

Just in case you've been keeping track of the progress in Fremont, the Waiting for the Interurban sculpture is even now being put back in place:

[Waiting for the
Interurban partially installed]

[Close-up
of same]

Posted at 15:21 permanent link category: /misc


Mon, 28 May 2007

The build bug

The idea of building an airplane hasn't gone away entirely. I was struck by the idea again recently, and looked around a little bit. Since I didn't stick strictly to my prejudice about building an all-wood design, I came across the Sherwood Ranger, which is an aluminum and wood design.

The key trick to the Ranger is that its wings really fold. No rigging, no re-attaching stuff. You pull four pins and swing 'em back. You're done. Setting it up again is the opposite -- pull them forward, insert pins, done. Now that's my kind of setup!

I was thinking, previously, about building a biplane that would fold up, that's nothing new. The problem is that every other design I've come across has a folding process which takes 30 minutes, and involves re-attaching controls, tension wires, electrical wires, etc. It's an involved-enough process that it would quickly become a mental barrier to flying, and it would either languish in a garage, or I'd end up blowing $300+ per month on a hanger for the plane.

The Ranger is no more of a travellin' plane than anything else I've been considering. Its economy cruise speed is 60 mph, and max cruise is around 85. Climb is impressive, though, and its payload is actualy more than its empty weight. Being a two-seater with 460 lbs payload capacity, it's actually got enough weight-room for me and another person and a couple gallons of gas.

Unfortunately, there doesn't seem to be much expertise about it available on the web, although I'm sure a few of them must have been built in the US. Unfortunately again, the kit maker is in the UK, and our exchange rate is terrible right now. I wouldn't do anything about it in any case for a year or so, but it does mean that purchase and shipping would be expensive.

So, it's interesting to have found such an appealing kit. I'll have to see if I still find it interesting when I'm in a better position to start such a large project.

Posted at 00:16 permanent link category: /aviation


Sun, 27 May 2007

Xtra-problems

The Xtracycle is having teething problems. It turns out, due to the way I have to attach it to the frame, the chain is grinding into the frame. The Xtracycle attachment can be attached either above or below the frame behind the crank. Right now, I have it below, because that makes a favorable angle with the frame, so that the attachment point of the X's nose is naturally self-tightening. If I put it on the other side of the frame, the angle is such that it's naturally self-loosening, which is definitely not a good situation. This picture shows the mounting angle reasonably well:

I'm not sure how to solve this problem. The real, correct solution is to find a different frame. However, this is an expensive-sounding solution, because I'm unlikely to settle for a cheap frame. The much cheaper, but technically more challenging solution, is to move the X to the other side of the frame, and figure out some kind of angled spacer to eliminate the self-loosening problem.

For a very short-term fix, I've put a series of zip-ties around the X's frame, where it's being abraded by the chain. However, that won't last for long, and they'll need to be checked frequenty. I have pondered getting a piece of teflon to go there, which may end up being the best/easiest solution. It's far from ideal, but it would solve the problem in a permanent-enough way that I could live with it.

I'll have to check in with the local plastics store, and see if they can sell me a small strip of teflon.

Posted at 23:52 permanent link category: /bicycle


House-paintin' progress

So, for a few weeks now, I've been working towards painting the inside of the house. It's been delayed by all sorts of things, including flooring work (fumes!), schedule conflicts, and pure laziness. However, I've finally gotten to it.

My first room, which was something of a test, is basically done. A solid wash with mineral spirits, followed by a coat of primer and two coats of paint. We'll see if that's enough; hopefully I don't need to put on a third coat (that'd throw my paint quantity estimation all out of whack).

It's pleasing to finally make visible progress. Still, it probably took over a week from the first wall-washing until now. That's not very encouraging. Of course, once I had all the bits and pieces together, things went a lot faster for subsequent work. I expect, for instance, that I can have the hallway (which is the next area to be painted) completely primed if not with a first coat of color by the end of tomorrow. As a bonus, I might even get room number two ready for wall washing (it still needs random stuff like shelves, hooks and curtains taken down). My ambition knows no bounds! (Unlike my actual abilities.)

Anyway, yay progress!

Posted at 23:41 permanent link category: /misc


Tue, 22 May 2007

It Lives!

Around 11 last night, I got the Xtracycle finished. Well, "finished." There's more to do, but it was finally to the point where a bike shop would have been comfortable selling it as a complete bicycle.

Its first ride was a very brief ride from work to home (around .7 miles -- maybe a whole kilometer!). No headlight, no mirror, but it was all there.

Its first real ride was tonight. I rode the four and a half miles from my temporary dwelling to my house. It was something of a non-event, really. Everything just worked like it was supposed to, for the most part. The rear derailleur isn't adjusted quite right, so there were a few spastic moments as the chain jumped between gears, but I think I got that sorted out. The seat wasn't adjusted exactly right, so I shifted it around -- it's still not right, but it's closer. But, other than that, everything was fine.

The bike definitely feels different. Compared to my commuter, it's a bit more steady (due to the considerably longer wheelbase), but turns feel odd. There's something strange about the geometry, but I can't quite figure out what it is.

After its proper inaugural ride, I spent a few minutes installing the horn. This is a great horn, I'll have to take a picture of it in daylight. I got it at Aaron's Cycle Repair, at the same time I got the Xtracycle add-on. It's a hand (or foot) operated manual pump, which directly operates a pair of car-type air horns. It's impressive looking, with two full-size air horns strapped to the legs of the fork, and this big red plunger up near the steering head. Once you get over how it looks, the sound is even more impressive. It's deafening, and being a two-tone like it is, sounds exactly like a car horn.

I'll have to see if my installation will be durable or not -- the horns are strapped to the unsprung side of the forks, and they may bobble too much in actual use.

In any case, a pleasing enough first ride. Hooray for cargo capacity!

Posted at 23:22 permanent link category: /bicycle


Mon, 21 May 2007

Cello search

Finally, years and years after getting my first cello, it's time to get a better one. My current cello was a gift from my parents, and one for which I hope I've sufficiently expressed my gratitude. However, it's actually decreased in value since they bought it for me, which is not really how these things are supposed to go.

Add to that the fact that I'm actually playing again (not good, just playing), and I find that I'd appreciate having a better cello.

So, I spent some time on Saturday in David Stone's shop in the U District, playing some cellos (celli? cellae?). This one in particular caught my ear and my eye:

It's a pretty cello, in addition to which, it has a very nice, open tone. It was made in Budapest in 2004, so it doesn't have any cool antique value, but that probably also means I can afford it. ;)

David had another cello which has potential. It was made by a Boeing machinist in 1991, in Kirkland. That is, about 5 miles from my house. It needs to have the neck shaved down, and some other modifications, but it seemed like it might be pretty nice once it's ready. I'll be headed back in a few weeks to try it out next to the Hungarian cello.

I'm curious to try these next to my cello. I know I want to sell it, if only to avoid the pain of any future repairs (I found out that it was put together with some very unfriendly and difficult to work with glue, which will dramatically increase future repair costs, or may rule out repairs entirely). I'm just interested to hear the difference in tone right next to each other. Certainly when I went home and picked up my cello, I couldn't really tell a difference, but a good hour or two had passed since playing the Hungarian.

Anyway, it'll be interesting to see what happens. My mom (also a cellist, and considerably more skilled than me) advocates getting a carbon fiber cello. I'll have to hear one in person, although their testimonial list is pretty impressive.

Posted at 14:15 permanent link category: /misc


Sun, 20 May 2007

New video

This weekend was a total bust for working on the house -- the newly finished floor produces such fumes that my eyes and lungs were burning within a minute of being inside. So much for any plans to get painting done!

So, I had what amounted to a free weekend. Lacking anything else to do, I decided to put together another video.

Enjoy!

Posted at 23:36 permanent link category: /motorcycle


Fri, 18 May 2007

Xtracycle pictures

Ok, I've got an unannotated gallery set up.

Check it out.

Posted at 10:08 permanent link category: /bicycle


Thu, 17 May 2007

Xtracycle update

I was chastized tonight for not writing in my journal about the Xtracycle build. Allow me to correct that!

I have been making slow but sure progress. It seems like most of my progress is being hampered by a lack of parts, at this point. Something about using specialized parts like tandem hubs and disc brakes makes everything more complicated.

Two nights ago, I had a very frustrating evening of working on the thing. I had just received the adapter which would allow the rear hub to use a disc brake, and eagerly spun it on. In my eagerness, I also cinched down the set-screw, and immediately bent the hub enough to cause considerable drag when spinning the wheel. I swore under my breath, and tried to get the bend out, but only succeeded in making it worse. Totally grumpy, I strapped the raer wheel onto my shoulder bag, and rode over to Recycled Cycles for help -- I was missing one of the wrenches I needed to take things apart enough to fix it myself. 10 minutes of work later, and the problem was sorted out. I was not best pleased with that little episode, although the tech at Recycled was (as usual) great to work with.

Yesterday, my new tires finally arrived (again, using funny parts means waiting for things...). I brought the bike, sans tires, down to the shop at my work on Sunday night, and very gingerly set it down with glorified paper towels wrapped around the rims and a large "please do not touch" sign laced into the spokes -- I could just imagine someone rolling the bare, aluminum rims across the hard, knobbly concrete and making them impossible to ever true again. Fortunately, there was no problem.

Once the tires were on, I gingerly sat on the saddle and paddled down the length of the bike cage -- no chain, no brakes, only one derailleur hooked up. It was still pretty cool to be rolling on this weird frankenbike. The rear disc rattled slightly as it wobbled on its un-tightened bolts (I couldn't find a Torx driver among the bike shop tools, so finger-tight was the best I could do). Fortunately, the bike looks a bit more normal with tires on the rims. The bare rims looked weirdly small, particularly with the huge 8" brake rotors on them. My other bike, with 29" wheels and 6" rotors, appares to me now to have comically small brake rotors.

I've been taking pictures as I make progress, and I'll try to get them posted later.

Right now, although it's not done, I've got the cargo carrying hoops attached to the rear frame for Bike To Work Day tomorrow. I'm going to bring the mostly-complete bike up to the lunch and show it off. Already tonight, I've spent a good solid 30 minutes talking to 5 or 6 interested people who were passing by. I figure at lunch tomorrow, I'll be lucky to shovel any food in my face for all the talking I'll be doing about it.

As it stands right now, the bike has the following major problems to address:

Once I get those things taken care of, the bike will be essentially done. I'll have lights and such to install, but nothing else will prevent me from riding the bike around normally.

And now, downstairs to take some pictures!

Posted at 20:06 permanent link category: /bicycle


Mon, 14 May 2007

Photoshop fun

My copy of Photoshop arrived today, and I was playing around with filters. It's hardly art, but I thought this was a cool effect:

Posted at 23:02 permanent link category: /misc


Fri, 04 May 2007

What's He Building In There?

I realized that I dropped the Xtracycle project on here yesterday as if I'd fully explained it. Apologies, it's been running around in my head for long enough that I figured I'd bored everyone to tears with it.

The background is this. In September last year, I went to set up my old Norco Cypress mountain bike with a disc brake front end. I wanted to get back into bicycling more, and what better way than with a bit of bikey bling. In readying the bike for the swap, I noticed a little crack in the head tube (where the steering tube goes). A moments' thought made me realize that the bike was condemned. I lost hope of utilizing the lifetime frame warranty, figuring I'd never find the receipt for it, so it was just trash. I went out and bought a new Gary Fisher bike, which I've been riding a lot since.

The Norco sat in forlorn dispair in the basement for a few months. As I was cleaning out my house in preparation for a move (an entirely different story), I chanced across the original purchase receipt. Hooray! I taped it to the bike, and resolved to deal with it Real Soon Now. That would have been about December. Needless to say, I did not deal with it for a few months. Finally, around March, I pulled it out, stripped off all the extraneous stuff, and took it to a local shop for the warranty replacement.

Said local shop basically sat on it for a month, and after some vicious prodding with a sharp stick (including several calls to the Norco headquarters, one to retrieve the correct correspondence email address... sigh), they finally got off their asses and got the warranty replacement going. I got my new frame after forking over $25 plus tax for the favor of doing the free warranty work. Great. I'm not going to mention their name, because they were kind of out of their element on this, so it's not entirely their fault, but I'm still pretty annoyed that I had to do almost all the work for them.

Anyway, Norco sent me this beautiful new frame, from a Bigfoot model. Apparently they don't sell any $400 bikes any more, so I got a frame from a $900 bike. Darn?

Somewhere along the way, I'd formed the definite idea that I wanted to turn this windfall bike into an Xtracycle. In summary, it's a neat attachment that moves the rear axle back 15 inches, and adds some massive cargo capacity by way of giant panniers and a sturdy frame. My friend Josh built one up, and seems to love it, and I liked the idea of being able to carry big stuff, like my cello, on a bicycle.

So, about a month ago, I started researching and buying parts. I now have a bunch of parts (listed yesterday) with a few more on the way, and more yet to be ordered. I'm reusing some of the stuff from the old Norco, which is still perfectly functional. I don't even want to think about what all this is costing, but I should get a really nice bike out of it. In particular, the rear wheel is composed of a $140 hub, about $45 in spokes, and a $35 rim. However, being a 48 spoke wheel (the more spokes, the stronger the wheel, basically), it should be able to handle anything I can throw at it.

And throw I will -- I weigh about 220 lbs in normal clothes, and the Xtracycle attachment is rated for 150 lbs of cargo. So that's potentially 370 lbs of static load, and when you add in dynamic stresses, I could be putting thousands of pounds of load on that wheel. It'd better be strong.

So, that's the Xtracycle project, to which I will be referring with increasing frequency as I start to actually put things together. This is the first bicycle I've built (not terribly daunting) and the first wheels I've built (much more daunting, but not all that hard now that I've given it a try). I'm sure I'll end up turning this into a slightly easier-to-read web page detailing the build process and with the pretty pictures and all. Check in here for updates.

Posted at 10:32 permanent link category: /bicycle


Thu, 03 May 2007

Wow, 48 is sure a lot of spokes

I have successfully laced both wheels, and started tensioning them. I don't have an adjusting stand at home, so I'll take them in to work tomorrow or over the weekend and work on them there.

The rear wheel, at 48 spokes, is pretty impressive. It's not any harder to work with than a 36 or 32 spoke wheel, except that there are more adjustments to make, and the finger clearance is less. Lacing it up was exactly the same procedure, except it took longer. I was wrong to think a 48 spoke wheel would be hard to deal with.

I'm taking pictures as I go, but bed sounds a lot more appealing than uploading pictures right now. Later.

Posted at 23:04 permanent link category: /bicycle


It Begins!

All my wheel parts arrived today. I now officially have enough parts to start building things for the Xtracycle.

I'll probably put together a webpage about all this, but for now, you'll have to be content with a list, and maybe a picture later on.

Things I have purchased specifically for this project:

Things I already had for whatever reason:

Tonight, I'll try lacing the wheels. With an offset front wheel and a 48 spoke rear, I have set myself an excellent challenge. Oh my. I'll be posting here more or less frequently as I make progress. I know a number of people have said, "Oh, let me know how that turns out." I will, in future, direct them here.

Posted at 17:58 permanent link category: /bicycle


Wed, 02 May 2007

Bad Night

As we all know, the real reason anyone reads blogs or journals is to revel in others' misfortunes. Well, have I got an entry for you!

The night started well enough. I had brought up laundry to do at my house, as long as I still own the washer and dryer. I was going to meet my friend J. and try riding his new motorcycle, a KLR650. He arrived a minute or so after I did -- I was a bit late because I was frantically taking notes on what I wanted to film that evening, in case I got inspired to do some talkie shots for the next video.

I excused myself, and dashed into the house to drop off my laundry. I figured I might as well start it, so it'd be done earlier, and quickly got the laundry in the machine and set it going. I must have set it just on the "waiting" side of the dial -- it'll wait up to 6 hours before starting the cycle, and if the dial is on the "wait" side, it'll wait a couple minutes before starting. Whatever. I ran back up.

We rode down to his destination, me on his bike, he on mine. It was fun. The KLR is a pretty cool bike, although it's very very different from my current motorcycle. I could probably easily live with it for a trip to somewhere rugged like Alaska, though.

That done, I headed up to a gas station, to fill my bike's tank and gather some footage. Within 10 seconds of starting the tape rolling, my phone rang. I stopped the camera, and answered the phone. It was work, calling to tell me that a server was down, and could I please take a look at it? I explained that I was 30 minutes from a computer, and asked them to call a coworker. I hung up and continued filming.

The phone rang gain. Coworker said it's not a big deal, downgrade the urgency (as I had initially asked them to do), and I get to deal with it. Ok, sure. I hung up and finished up the fliming, packed up, and headed down to work. The last thing I wanted to do was go back into work -- I was planning an evening of doing laundry and working on the house. But into work I went.

The problem wasn't a difficult one to fix, but it's the kind of problem that indicates the machine needs to be replaced soon, so that resulted in a generalized sense of doom forming. I finished up, turned in the virtual paperwork, and headed out. I considered getting dinner near work, but decided it'd be better to get to the house and put some stuff in storage before the storage place closed. I could get dinner on the way back from that.

I headed up to the house. Packed up a few things, rolled up a rug. I loaded it into the van, damaging a finger on the shredder that was coming back to the apartment. Not too bloody, but surprisingly painful. I washed my hands and went down to change the laundry into the dryer.

Wait a minute, why is that light still on? Oh, crap. The laundry never started. The door was stuck open. Glance at watch: 8:40. I had to get moving, the storage place closes at 9. Laundry actually going this time, I headed upstairs, took a quick look around, and decided I was ready. I got in the minivan, and turned the key.

Click!

Blackness.

Ohhhhh-kay. It's done this once or twice before. Usually it comes back on the next key turn. There's some loose relay or something. I tried again, foot off the brake this time. Nope. Shift to neutral from park? No such luck, it's locked. This sure looked like a dead battery, so I grabbed the charger out of the garage, and set it to the "jump start" mode. Hooked it up, got back in the driver's seat. Turn key. Click! Hmm, those lights on the dash are really bright... I've never seen them so bright! Try again, turn key, k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k! That ain't right.

I spent the next 10 minutes trying different combinations of charger and starting, to no avail. I opened the relay/fuse panel and swapped around relays, trying to feel for which one was doing the cricket impression, but nothing made a difference. It was now 5 minutes to nine, and I clearly wasn't getting to the storage unit. The charger kept its "charged" light on no matter what I did, suggesting that the battery was actually in fine shape, but it definitely acted like a dead battery. I even got to experience the joy of a weakened alarm siren going off 3 feet from my head as I was working. And it won't. Listen. To. The. Off switch! I was returning with a very large wrench (to detach the battery terminal, I swear) when it finished its cycle of different obnoxious alarm sounds ("weeoooweeeooweeoo! beep! beep! beep! beeeeee boooo beeeee boooo! aank! aank! aank! booooeeeeee! boooooeeeee!"). I need to find that alarm control box and throw it in the garbage.

Enough. I left the battery charging, and headed to the pizza joint that's walking distance and open late. I needed food, the nine hours since lunch were taking their toll. I ordered a couple slices of pizza and a fountain drink. I grabbed the cup, and hit the ice dispenser, accidentally brushing one of the taps with my knuckle. My hand was covered in Diet Pepsi, while the cup filled with ice. Grand. I selected Sierra Mist, in the mood for something new and not based on the kola nut. Filled to about an inch from the top, not interested in sucking down an entire huge cup of sugarwater. I turned back toward my table, when I heard a spattering noise, and felt my hand dampening. The soda was volcanically overflowing the cup, drenching my hand and spilling all over the floor.

Ok, really. What did I do wrong? This is payback for... what, exactly?

The pizza lackey grabbed me a clean rag, and I cleaned myself up. Dinner was very subdued. Amazingly, I managed to eat the pizza without choking to death, or having it squirt an ecstatic gush of tomato sauce and grease all over me.

I walked back, speculatively sucking on my now-quiescent sugarwater. The van received another bout of sullen attention, but it still wasn't starting, just clicking relays at me like a gigantic angry insect. I left it charging.

Determined to get something positive out of the evening, I swapped the laundry (finished this time) into the dryer, and loaded my "to the apartment" stuff into the sidecar. Ah, the trusty rusty sidecar. I thought evil thoughts toward the 1995 Toyota van in my driveway that was doing considerably worse than the 1983 Honda with the unexpected, off-balance weight it'd been draging for its entire life. Simplicity has its virtues.

Fortunately, the trip to the apartment and back was entirely without incident. I didn't even get bitten by the shredder again.

Back at my house, I pulled my clean, dry laundry into its mesh bag, and gave a last check before leaving. The laundry safely loaded in my little rear-seat basket and bungie'd in, I rolled the bike out and got ready to leave. Then noticed, in the final being-pissed-upon moment, that it had just started raining. On the clean, dry laundry.

Hoo boy, did I ever get what I deserved. Or something.

Posted at 11:18 permanent link category: /misc


Tue, 01 May 2007

The Worst Ride of Them All

Yesterday, I had a dentist appointment. Normally, I'm not a huge fan of the dentist. It's uncomfortable and expensive (since they always seem to find cavities no matter how careful I am about brushing), but that's a story for a different time.

My dentist is what I have in the past considered to be a kind of frightening distance from my workplace -- all the way to First Hill, which is, as it turns out, about 5 miles. It's not so much the distance, though, as the hill.

Since I've been going there, I've ridden my motorcycle to get to the dentist, which most commonly involves taking I-5 downtown, and then going up what must be an 8% or more grade, James Street. At the top, after having worried that my bike might stall in first gear on this hill, I've made it to the dentist's office. It feels like a long slog on the motorcycle, although it's probably only a lateral distance of 3 blocks.

So, that's a pretty daunting idea on a bicycle.

I was prepared for the worst. I left myself an hour to get there (I normally cover the 5 miles between house and work in around 30). I went at a very even pace instead of pushing myself, so I'd have energy for the inevitable hellish hill-climb. I made sure the water bottle was full.

Then, I was on top of Capitol Hill before I knew it (First Hill and Capitol Hill are divided by a hazy sense of where the hipsters stop and the hospitals begin, more than any actual geographical feature). First Hill was just over there, only there wasn't actually any more uphill to do. Huh.

So, I ended up getting there 20 minutes early, even after slowly locking up my bike and heading to the wrong floor on the elevator.

I guess it wasn't so frightening after all.

Another strike against riding the gas-guzzlers (although the Ninja 250, at 48-55 MPG, is hardly a gas-guzzler).

Posted at 15:53 permanent link category: /bicycle


Wed, 25 Apr 2007

Video the Third

I got a new copy of Final Cut Express a week or so ago, and between that and some really neat new footage I'd shot with the camera strapped to the side of the bike, I needed to make a new video. So, I did. It's been very well received, once you discount the weird people who need to get a life ("please pronounce centrifugal differently" and "centrifugal force doesn't exist" are my favorites).

How many times can you say "countersteering" before it starts to sound really weird?

Posted at 10:04 permanent link category: /motorcycle


The new bathroom door

So, if you've been to my house, you've certainly seen the broken-down old piece of junk masquerading as a bathroom door. It's one of those cheap, hollow doors which are the favored choice of slumlords and homeowners too strapped or oblivious to get something better.

Some time in its past, before I owned the house, it acquired a hole. I never noticed the hole when I was looking at the house, because when it was on the market, there was a little piece of framed art (needlepoint or something) hanging over the hole. I even thought to myself, "What a weird place to hang a little framed artwork."

The approximately fist-sized hole

The previous owners were a contentious-sounding family of five: mom and dad (dad being the agent who listed the house and parked his 7-series BMW in the little shack of a garage), angry teenage son Tyler (who left his name scrawled in various places in the room that once housed him), rebellious tween-aged daughter (who apparently painted her room entirely in graffitti, which dad made her paint over before the house went on sale -- I wish they'd left it), and infant of some variety (the worst parenthetical note of the lot -- baby's diaper hamper, full and stinking, was left behind after I took possession of the house; two days later it disappeared (after I had possession of the house, mind you!); needless to say I immediately changed the locks). I'm guessing that either of the teenagers was responsible for the hole in the bathroom door.

So, I thought to myself from day one, "Maybe I should get that door fixed." It took me a long time to come around to the idea that I would have to replace it, and then that was at least as daunting as trying to figure out how one would repair a busted hollow door.

Yesterday was my day to take some stuff (notably two other doors and the old kitchen sink) to a place called the Re-Store. They buy and sell used building materials, although they only wanted one door, and not the sink or other door. Ah well. But I figured that as long as I was there, I'd look and see if I could find a new door for the bathroom.

I looked for a few minutes, thoroughly daunted by the collection of perhaps 200+ doors lined up and down a couple of aisles. I figured I'd poke through, not find anything, and have to order a door at Lowes or Home Depot (for which I was expecting to pay about $150). Imagine my surprise when I found a door which was close to the right dimensions, and pulled it out to find a perfect stylistic match to the rest of the doors in my house, and including a mirror on the inside! Now compound that surprise with the pleasure of seeing a $30 pricetag on it, and thinking about the $10 in store credit they'd given me for my old door. It was pretty nice.

So, I bought the door, figuring I'd get to it in a few days. Not to be. I immediately scraped some paint off, then lugged it around to the bathroom to see how well it'd fit. Actually, it was really close. It almost looked like it would fit without trimming... Hmm....

I called my dad, and got his advice on how to proceed with the task ahead of me, and he set me up. I rolled down to Home Depot and rented a hand-planer, and picked up a new doorknob (the old one was of a matching slumlord quality to the hollow door). I cleared out the garage as a workspace, and set the door up on some sawhorses. The planer took a moment to figure out (the depth-of-cut adjustment being somewhat obscure despite the theoretically clear label on the knob). Zip zap, off came a few 32nds from the bottom of the door, and I tried it out.

Around this time, I started to realize just how much a solid wood door with an inset mirror weighed. The door fit pretty well, but wasn't perfect yet, and I knew it'd need several more round-trips between the bathroom and the planer. I eyed the recently-emptied office next to the bathroom speculatively for about two seconds before I trotted off to retrieve the sawhorses and planer.

New door in place, on its hinges

About half an hour of planing and fitting later, the door fit about right, and I set about cutting mortises for the new vintage hinges I'd picked up. My poor solitary wood chisel has definitely seen better days, and the edge was starting to roll under. Of course, I packed all the sharpening supplies weeks ago, so I was left with the little file on my multitool. Cringing a bit, I sharpened a chisel with a fine-tooth file. It worked well enough to keep me going.

The too-long hinge mortise

I set the door up on some shims I had left over from the kitchen project, and marked where the hinges should go. Then it was down again (I can definitely feel my arms this morning) for the chiseling. Fortunately, hinges are very standardized, so I was able to get the door frame set up by simply squaring the corners of the mortises and screwing the new vintage hinges into the existing holes. The door's old hinge mortises were in the wrong place, but provided an excellent guide for cutting the new ones.

Next, I marked and drilled the hinge holes, and got the door up again on shims so I could attach the hinges. Amazingly, it only took about 10 minutes and a lot less grunting and swearing than I had expected to get it hanging and swinging freely.

I broke the lockset out of its packaging (fortunately of the "snap together" dangerplastic instead of the "cut open and reveal self to plastic razor edges" dangerplastic), and read through the instructions real quick. Hmm. 2 and 1/8" hole saw? I cursed a bit under my breath -- I knew I had hole saws, but a 2 and 1/8"? I ran to the two or three places I had them. Nope, the first was a 1 and something. Out to the garage, where I picked up a 2 1/8" hole saw. Amazing! The absolute bane of doing any kind of project like this has always been that I end up spending more time driving back and forth between the store getting stuff I'm missing than I would on doing the work at home had everything been in place to start with.

Oooh, mirror!

I chucked up the serendipitous tool in the drill, and had at it. It was a bit touch-and-go at first, as the door already had an odd oval-shaped doorknob opening, and I was cutting around that. So the first thing to touch wood were the outside teeth on the hole saw, which is not the way it's really supposed to work. I got the kinks worked out, though, and a few minutes later there was a shiny new 2 1/8" hole in the door.

The lockset was simplicity itself to fit, and the door swung shut with a satisfying click! I pulled out the camera and snapped a few shots. I was amazed it went so smoothly. I'd had horrible visions of endless fussing to get everything lined up, and nothing going right. Just the opposite was the case.

It was even pretty cheap. I paid $23 for the door after tax (including my $10 trade-in credit for the old kitchen door). The hinges were $7. The lockset was $15. The planer rental was $14. And that's it! The rest was reused hardware or tools I already had. Grand total for a new bathroom door (and a considerably classier one than I had anticipated being able to get): $60. Whee!

I should have done this years ago.

Posted at 09:48 permanent link category: /misc


Wed, 18 Apr 2007

Gun control

The Virginia Tech shootings seem to have re-invigorated calls for gun control. I'm sure you can find the articles, they're all over now.

It's an interesting thing for me. I own guns, although I haven't used any of them for years, and no longer particularly care whether or not I do. So I have at least a theoretical interest in keeping guns available. I also grew up in a very anti-gun family, and I retain a lot of that sentiment -- the only things I've ever shot at have been made of paper or clay on a controlled firing range. The thought of killing anything, no matter the method used, is repulsive to me (part of the reason I'm still a vegetarian).

So, I guess I'm what you could call a neutral party in the gun control debate.

This provides me with the perspective to say that, honestly, it's never going to work. Gun control in this country will never be successful, if they keep going at it the way they are now.

Let's go on a little historical journey. This is all from memory, so I'm probably getting some parts wrong, but the gist of it is accurate, and that's all I'm trying for.

Back in the day, say, 600 years ago, your average European person (who would have been a serf or peasant in most areas of Europe) was not allowed to possess weapons. Tools were fine, which is one of the reasons you think of pitchforks and scythes when you imagine "popular revolt" -- people didn't have swords and daggers, so they used what they had.

In order to carry a weapon like a sword (or, later, a gun), you had to be in one of several special classes: noblemen, military, some sort of guard function (which is close enough to military that I'll just lump them together) or an outlaw. This meant that your average person (roughly equivalent to today's middle class, although the comparison is only apt in terms of percentages of the population) went their entire lives without being allowed to legally possess or carry a legitimate weapon. Only a few priveliged people were allowed to carry weapons, and only a subclass of those people (ie, the nobles) were allowed to carry them while "off-duty."

Fast forward a few hundred years. Europeans start colonizing America. It's a wild frontier. Not only is everyone allowed to possess and carry a weapon, it's practically mandatory, what with all the Indians and bears and moose and rabid killer squirrels and whatnot. It's a wild adventure. Everyone loves a wild adventure, and the country grows. As it grows, the mindset is firmly cemented that in America, everyone carries a gun. No longer is it forbidden for the average person to arm him (or even her) self. In fact, it's encouraged. Finally, everyman has one of the rights of a gentleman. But only in America.

Now kind of fast-wind your way through history in America. Guns continue to feature in a lot of things that happened. Guns, in fact, are an integral part of the culture, all the way up to the present day. It's every person's right to carry a gun; it's right there in the constitution, right?

Sure, you can read it that way. You can read it other ways too, but I'm not about to touch that debate.

My point is that America was, in some very literal ways, founded on this idea of everyone being armed. In America, everyone has that previously "nobles-only" right. It's built into the culture. Anyone who wants to, provided they're not a convicted criminal or crazy-person, can buy a gun. Even convicted criminals and crazy-people can buy guns, if they go about it the right way. Why? Because the culture in America assumes that guns are a basic right, just like liberty and free speech. Even more than that, they're a means of distinction from "everyone else" (ie, other countries).

Ok, so where does this leave us? There's a movement to "ban guns." They're dangerous -- they are: the only point of a gun is to put big, angry holes in things, and the only way that's really useful is if you're doing it to destroy something. So, granted, guns are dangerous. On that basis, they should be restricted (no one is actually talking about banning guns, they're all talking about restricting them to some sub-class of people who are allowed to have them). Everyone knows that an outright ban would never work.

Other countries (take Britain or Australia, for instance) are held up by the pro-gun folks as shining examples of why it's bad to ban guns and take them away from everyone. Suddenly, a guy with a knife is a major threat to public safety. A whacko with a barely-tolerated hunting rifle is unstoppable.

And that's the thing: barely-tolerated. People don't like guns in those places. People in America like guns. Guns represent our power, and our independence. Taking away Americans' guns is tantamount to emasculating them and enslaving them, or so goes the train of thought. The culture of America believes it, so it's true.

The change isn't that we need to ban guns. The change is that we need to change our culture. It's a big, big task, bigger than any one person or even large group of people can do. It's a task which will take everyone in the country, and we're already evenly split on whether to vote for Awful Politician #1 or Awful Politician #2 for president every four years. If you want to get rid of the guns, you have to change the culture. It has to become not-ok to own or use guns, and it has to be a universal change.

When we become a culture in which it's a faux-pas to own, carry or use guns, the gun control advocates will get what they say they want. Until that point, attempts at gun control will be just that -- attempts, and probably failed attempts most of the time. Crazy-persons will still be able to get guns, because some of them aren't crazy enough to register on our meters, like happened this last Monday in Virginia. Don't try to feed me a line about putting more and more restrictions on the sale or whatever. Not gonna work. If you don't change the culture, the guns will still be there, and anyone who wants one will be able to get one. Regulations are made to be circumvented, and you're talking about a country full of people who are proud of their circumvention skills.

I'm not trying to advocate either the pro- or anti-gun position here (although as I re-read what I've written, I realize that I'm really writing to the gun control advocates of the world). I'm just throwing up a reality check. Shout all you want, protest and lobby Congress and do whatever, but until our culture changes, guns will be available. Until we stop glorfying guns, and start villifying them, nothing will change.

Posted at 18:05 permanent link category: /misc


Tue, 17 Apr 2007

Video the Second

I've finished up the second countersteering video. (Did I mention the first one? I think I did, but just in case, they're both on this page.)

I'm pretty pleased with it, and decided I might as well take the plunge and become one of the YouTube generation. With any luck, my new video is linked below:

There you have it. I have huge hair.

Posted at 10:08 permanent link category: /motorcycle


Thu, 12 Apr 2007

Product reviews

This is a collection of thoughts I've had bumping around in my head for a bit. Just figured I'd get them out.

CygoLite DualCross 200: I've already got a review up here. This is additional thoughts.

The DualCross, now that I've used it, has some notable weaknesses. Probably the biggest one is the ridiculous mounting bracket. Some genius at Cygo decided to have the light cantilevered out way in front of the bar. It keeps your bars flat, certainly, but it also means that the light head has a huge lever arm when, say, going over bumps. I don't know about you, but bumps are an unavoidable part of riding a bike for me. The result? I've grown used to rotating the bracket back up to a useful position. (It's as tight as I can make it, too -- the bracket design suffers from more than one flaw.)

The light, as I mentioned in the review, has multiple modes. The "primary" modes are accessible by briefly pressing a button. One button scrolls "up" through light levels, the other button scrolls "down." (I put those in quotes because in the secondary mode, up and down are meaningless, but the buttons work the same way.) The secondary modes are accessed by pressing either button for a few seconds, and then releasing. Then, it's a quick button press to scroll through the modes.

What I find myself disliking is the unnecessary complexity of the interface. It offers four levels of light, which sounds great until you think about how you'll actually use it. For myself, I want the lowest level most of the time (the "being seen" level). If it's dark or I really want to get a car's attention, I want the highest level (which is bright enough to see where you're going). The middle levels never ever get used. Fortunately, with the two buttons, you don't have to scroll through all of them to get to high or low. Still, I'd rather just have two levels, or some way to program it so i could skip the middle two.

In the secondary set of modes, you get four "special" modes: quick flash, slow flash, "walking" (or "very dim") steady light, and SOS flash. Here again, I only want two modes, but only one of them really exists. I want a medium-fast flash (fast is epilleptic-seizure-fast, slow is really too slow), and I want the super-dim mode. The SOS mode (at least for me) is the dorkiest waste of programming I've ever seen. I'll never use it, although I can see some mountain biker being really glad to have it, assuming he hasn't bobbled the light head straight off the bars.

So, if I were in charge of this product for Cygo, I'd drop it to two modes (high/low and flash/dim), and I'd change how the buttons work. One button (pick one at random, I don't care) would switch back and forth between high and low beam. Hold it down to turn off, just like now. The other button would immediately switch to (or switch on) flash or dim mode, again hold down to turn off. Every once in a while, I want to switch from primary to secondary to get that fast flash, but I want to do it right now. Unfortunately, I have to hold the button for 2 seconds to switch it off, then hold it for two seconds again, to switch it on in secondary mode. Unacceptable, so I don't futz with the light and grab for the horn instead.

The battery mounting system (consisting of some single-sided velcro and a strip of foam tape on the battery case) leaves something to be desired, but it generally seems to stay in place. It's not too big, and doesn't take up a water bottle cage.

For all that's negative, the light has some phenomenal positives. In particular, the beam is huge, and really lights up the road on high beam. It spreads quickly, but has enough of a hot spot to be useful. I don't know why they crossed the beams like they did, that just seems like a gimmick, but the beam pattern is really good. The battery life is also excellent, particularly when you always use it on the lowest light level or one of the flashing modes like I do.

Although I dislike the mount and the UI, I'm keeping it.

Delta Air Zound: This is a horn which you fill up with a tire pump. It has a remote bottle that looks for all the world like a 500 ml pop bottle without a label (in fact, I'm pretty sure it is). This horn is functionally identical to one of those boating horns with the 6" long trumpet and the can of compressed stuff underneath.

But WOW what a sound it makes! I was all proud of my motorcycle horns (I always replace the stock motorcycle horn with a louder unit, so I can actually be heard), but this thing is about twice as (apparently) loud as those motorcycle horns. I don't know who's got the right dB rating, but the Air Zound is at the top of my list for horns now. I'll never have another bicycle without one of these (at least, if it's destined to be in traffic). $20 at Amazon. Go buy one, right now, and put it on your bike. You will be amazed. Now, if only I could figure out how to mount it where I can reach it immediately.

REload Bags shoulder bag: REload is a company that I first heard of when I passed by their little factory space on Capitol Hill last year. A bunch of young hip biker people were sitting around industrial sewing machines chatting and sewing together bags. It seemed cool, and when the time came recently to get a bigger biking bag, I decided to give them a try.

Every bag they make is custom -- you choose the colors and the extra features. I ended up with a burgundy and grey bag that looks really good. I'm very happy with it so far. The strap hardware is a little funky, in that it's chrome-plated metal instead of the more normal nylon, but I guess it's more durable when it's cold out.

So yeah, thumbs up on the REload bag. The one I got is the Small Civilian model, and I added dual front pockets, pen pockets inside, and a ballistic nylon base. My total price after tax was $140 or so. Their website is nowhere near as slick as Timbuk2's site, but their bags are of at least comparable quality, and REload will sew artwork onto your bag (for a fee). If you see anyone running around with a shoulder bag with art on it, that's probably a REload.

Mountain Mirrycle mirror: This thing rocks. It pokes up where I can see it, and the mounting system is very solid. Complete and total thumbs-up on the Mountain Mirrycle mirror, if you like handlebar-mounted mirrors. Of course, you'll also want to have flat bars and a grip with a hole in the end. With all that, I don't have any problem with the mirror shifting unexpectedly, or even vibrating too much. I'd even consider putting one of these on a motorcycle. Very good stuff.

Posted at 22:40 permanent link category: /bicycle


Your website is your business

So, I came across an interesting situation today. I was thinking about a trip I might want to make, and went to the website of one of my favorite airplane rental places. No comment on who, because he's a good guy, and I don't want to bring him negative publicity. This is a commentary on business practices and websites.

I went to the website to find prices. I found my plane, and was pleased to see that the rate hadn't changed. Woo! I remembered that the last time I was in, there was a fuel surcharge, though, so I called to ask about it. Sure enough, there's still a surcharge of $10 per hour.

That's all fine, but the website actually says, "All our prices include fuel" and strongly implies that other rental agencies have hidden fuel surchages and insurance fees. The fuel surchage isn't mentioned on the website.

So, think about that for a minute. There's text on the site that says, "We don't have hidden fuel fees!" and there's a hidden (at least on the website) fuel fee. It's very obvious when you get in the office -- there are signs around saying "$10 fuel surcharge applies" and it's listed on the printed price sheet. So it's not exactly hidden to a walk-in customer.

But what this guy doesn't seem to realize is that the whole world minus walk-up and current customers sees his business through the filter of that website. Say I'm a private pilot from New York, and I'm planning a trip out to the Seattle area, and am looking for a place to rent a plane. It's going to be a bit of hassle anywhere, so I want low rates and my particular plane type. He's got one, and his rates are pretty good. Neat! Imagine my surprise when I get there and discover that there are hidden charges.

Yes, current customers and people who call or walk in will get the whole story. But if they saw your website first, they're going to be annoyed, and might even be distrustful -- you said right on your site, no hidden fuel surcharges!

If you're reading this and you have a business and a website, you might keep that in mind. Your website is your storefront to the entire world. It says a lot about your business. Don't let it mislead your potential customers.

Posted at 11:52 permanent link category: /aviation


Mon, 09 Apr 2007

Transportational Cycling

Apparently, without knowing it, I've been part of a group all these years: a group of people who are making it their business to use cycles (I'll use the generic term, since I'm referring to both motorcycles and bicycles) as their daily transportation.

I'm not sure that there are any clever websites out there that I could link to which describe this, but it does seem to be something of a movement. I'm getting this impression from reading BikeForums and other random places.

The bicycle contingent is more vocal, probably because they really get that self-righteous "I burn no fossil fuels" attitude worked up. But really, both groups, motorcyclists and bicyclists, seem to exist.

What's interesting to me is that I came to it out of my own reasons, and without really being prodded by anyone else. I was proud to be able to say, "Actually, I haven't owned a car since [whenever]." But then, I like being weird, and living without a car is definitely weird.

It's kind of a pity that being carless is such a weird thing, though. Our appetite for easy transportation seems like it's bound to be our undoing, as we fight wars and slowly destroy our living environment to facilitate the pratice. Fortunately, we're not "killing the planet" or any such nonsense. The Earth will survive, as will a lot of interesting life forms. Just maybe not us, and maybe not a lot of the life forms we value.

For all that, this insatiable appetite for energy is long-standing. The whales were almost hunted into extinction because of demand for whale-oil for lamps. (Either the first or one of the first lighthouses in the Puget Sound area, on Whidbey Island, ran on whale oil for years, for instance.) That was in the middle of the 19th century, and it's easy to find other examples further back: Scotland was once entirely forested until all the trees were cut down for firewood and buildings. Now, it's a barren-looking land of low scrub and peat moss for the most part; it's been that way for millenia.

Anyway, to bring this all back around, I'm looking forward to a neat future, if only I can help convince everyone else to reduce their energy usage. With things like transportational cycling, decentralized power generation (think solar panels and little wind turbines on every house, or even methane-powered fuel cells, running off garbage heaps), and better urban planning, we can go a long way towards fixing up a future that could otherwise be viewed as pretty dismal.

Gotta run, it's bicycle time!

Posted at 17:58 permanent link category: /bicycle


Wed, 04 Apr 2007

The end of another era

If all goes right (cross fingers), I'll be getting an Apple Macbook tonight. So, that's significant for a number of reasons:

That last point is the exciting one. I have a Plan.

Until now, I've been a many-computer person. It's practically been a defining feature of who I was. Go into my house, and there are computers everywhere. An old laptop there, a tower case there, etc. When I moved out a few weeks ago, I had 8 computers, not counting things like the Tandy 102 or palmtops.

The Plan is this: get rid of everything. Just use the Macbook. Radical, eh?

The rationale is that in the last two years, I've used a computer for the following tasks:

Well, all those things are easy to do with a Mac. In fact, the Mac excels at some of them, while some of those tasks are so lightweight as to be simple for even a generations-old computer such as I use.

The key breakthrough was realizing that where before I thought I'd need Windows to run the audio editing software I had (which is almost the only reason I still have a Windows machine at all), actually I could do it on a Mac too. And hey, a Mac is essentially a Unix machine (my preference is to use Linux for most things). So, a Mac would actually make a decent computer for most of the stuff I want to do.

Then I started looking around, and found a great deal (which turned out to be so great it didn't exist, but that's the "joy" of Craigslist, I guess). Then I found another great deal, and spent my monies, and here I am. (Since I started writing this, I have concluded the purchase of my new Macbook, and am using it to type this even now!)

I guess the next step is to get all the stuff I care about off the myriad computers I have lying around, and get rid of them! Hooray for simplification!

Posted at 19:53 permanent link category: /misc


Thu, 29 Mar 2007

The end of an era

I'm definitely moving forward on the whole "selling the house" idea. Sunday, I packed the minivan full of my daily-use stuff, and carted it all down to Kristin's. Sunday night was my first night of being officially moved out.

Of course, I haven't moved out in the sense of getting everything out yet. There's still plenty to pack up and move. Getting myself out of the house means that I no longer have real limitations on what I can and can't pack, though. If I feel like packing dishes and kitchen stuff, it's all open game, where before I would have had to think about it -- "Oh, hmm; am I going to use that before I move out, or not?"

Now? Problem solved!

So, the next task is to get everything else packed up and moved out. I have a depressing amount of stuff, even after cleaning things out and tossing all manner of things. It'll get better as I pack enough to get big furniture out. Moving tables and bookshelves will really look like progress, which will be encouraging. Right now, for every box I get packed, I end up making 3x more visual mess as I break things down into packable components.

My grand plan didn't go quite as I'd hoped, unfortunately. I guess I'm still kind of in the packing section, but the plan changed from the original idea. Way back in 2006, I had this clever plan all worked out in my head:

Toss/donate/sell unwanted possessions: 6 months.

Pack everything: 6 months.

Prep and sell house: 6 months.

That was around June, 2006, and the goal was the have the house sold by December, 2007. That's still the goal, but a few practical concerns sprang up. The most important one is that houses sell way better during spring and summer than they do in winter. I also wanted to have those six "selling" months primarily consist of having the house on the market, rather than actually doing any prep in that time. So, packing got accelerated, and I'm hoping to have the house on the market by June 1 at the very latest, more likely mid-May.

In any case, it's all a bit strange -- I've been living in that house since mid-2000. It's interesting to look back and think about what's changed and what's remained constant in that time, but that's a subject for a different post.

Posted at 11:19 permanent link category: /misc


Sat, 24 Mar 2007

I broke a spoke/it's not a joke!

Poetry! Run! (Eeeeek!)

Yes, last night Kristin and I went out on her first real bike ride. It was fun, but dark. I think she said the last time she rode a bicycle was in her teens, so it's been a few years.

Everything went quite well. No troubles with balance, and I saw marked improvement just in the few quick miles we rode. Now we have to follow up on all that to get her confidence up and work on the skills necessary to riding in "the real world."

While we were out, I heard an odd pang! noise come from my back tire, and I thought I'd rolled over a rock or something. It was accompanied by a weird jarring sensation that was completely unlike rolling over a rock, though.

After a short while, I noticed my bike was making a periodic rubbing sound as if there was something wrong with the wheel. Indeed, yesterday morning, I looked again and quickly determined that I'd broken a spoke on the rear wheel.

I pondered for a moment, and decided that this probably wasn't a deadly condition, and rode into work as I'd been planning. No trouble. Then I did some poking around on our friend the internet, which suggested that actually, that whole riding-on-busted-spoke thing was a bad idea. Hmm, I did ride in with an expectant air of "When will this thing explode on me?"

I called Free Range Cycles, my local bike shop, and asked them how difficult it would be for them to replace a spoke. The answer was swift: "We can do that, sure, just come on down." Easy.

I walked the bike down to the shop (fortunately close to work), and let them have at it. Other than removing the gears (naturally, the spoke which went pang! was on the drive-side), it looked fairly easy. Easy enough that I'm much more comfortable with the idea of doing it myself next time it happens. Hooray!

An odd thing the mechanic said: "You've got a leg up on most people -- you know how to change a flat." I looked incredulously at him. "You're kidding, right?" "Nope," he said. "It's all those fancy racer-guys in the spandex. Someone I knew was riding along and came across one of these guys who was sitting by the side of the road, bemoaning his [flat tire] fate. He had all the tools and patches, he just didn't know how to use them." Goofy. I'm sure that's not generally applicable to all spandex-clad racer-guys, but it's a funny image.

Posted at 13:33 permanent link category: /bicycle


Wed, 21 Mar 2007

Settin' us back by decades

So, I was cruising around Ye Olde Internette, and came across this blog post. Just one of those random things. Go give it a glance, at least the first section and the comments.

I'm right there with the poster. Sanctimonious bicyclists (of whom I've fortunately met none here in Seattle, although I've seen a few on the road) are annoying. Whining about not being afforded the rights of a vehicle and then breaking the laws which apply to those same classes of vehicles? Yeah, that's pretty annoying.

One of the comments, however, really got me. I won't quote the whole thing, it's at the link, from Michael. Here's the part that's bugging me:

The main example of this is running red lights. I will grant that many bicyclists do this in an unsafe manner, blowing through lights without stopping. But I think that as long as a cyclist comes to a stop and looks both ways before crossing (as a pedestrian would do), it is preferable to waiting for the light to turn green.

I cannot disagree more. He goes on to justify that position, but it's a weak argument. If you want to be treated like a valid road user, you act like a valid road user. I don't blow red lights on a motorcycle. I don't do it in a car. Why should I be allowed to do it on a bicycle? I'm in traffic, expecting respect from the other road users, aren't I?

One of his supporting arguments is that if he waits for the light to turn green, he's going to slow down other drivers, or get dangerously passed. Well, you probably have other choices. Maybe a different road would be better? Perhaps a different commute time? Just because I can legally ride on the nearly-freeway road that's a straight shot from my house to my work doesn't mean that I do. I pick the road with considerably less traffic, and a bike lane. Don't have bike lanes? Maybe you should be lobbying your town/city council about that.

The bottom line is that, until there are traffic laws which apply only to bicyclists, people on bikes have to follow the laws of regular traffic, or they have to follow the laws of pedestrians. New laws which apply specifically to bicycles (and are sensible) need to be made, particularly as the new awareness of foreign oil dependency and climate change from fossil fuels grows. There are going to be more bicyclists on the road, and if they all learn from the lawless ones, it's going to be a problem sooner rather than later.

It's something of a topic switch, but I'll get us started. Here are some suggestions for laws we might make to apply to bicyclists.

So, that's a start. Am I wrong about some of them? Probably. I'm not offering this as anything other than a seed of discussion. Tell me why I'm right or wrong. I welcome any feedback at reaper at obairlann dot net.

Posted at 13:31 permanent link category: /bicycle


Sun, 18 Mar 2007

The mysterious flat of mysterious (flat) mystery

I mentioned on Friday that the rear tire on my bike was strangely flat. I had no idea what would have caused it, but figured that it was something I'd run over.

I went out to the garage tonight to see if I could figure out the problem.

Off came the wheel, and out came the innertube. Looks ok. A bit of pumping usually shows the leak, no problem. Oh, hmm. No leak. Pump more. Nope. The tube appeared to be whole and healthy, yet the tire was flat. Maybe it was a fluke?

So I put the tube and tire back on, and pumped up the tire. It seemed to hold air just fine. Weird. Maybe it was a slow leak. I left the tire to sit for a few hours, perhaps it would feel more like talking after a bit of the old solitary isolation.

Several hours later, I went to look at it again. Nearly flat. Hmm. There are two likely explanations for this: one, the tube spontaneously failed. It's possible, and I wouldn't put it past these cheap Specialized tubes which keep ending up in the rear tire. Two, I picked up something pokey in the tire, at least temporarily, which put a miniscule hole in the rear tube.

I pulled out the tube, and discarded it, figuring that pretty much takes care of option one (he said, pulling out another cheap Specialized tube... sigh). I'd checked the inside of the tire after I had it apart the first time, but I didn't find anything then.

So, off came the tire entirely (so to speak). I carefully ran my fingers along the inside of the tire, feeling for anything pokey or out of the ordinary. I got 90% of the way around the tire when I felt it -- something sharp poking through the tire. I looked at the spot, and could just barely see that the inner surface looked disrupted. Whatever it was, it was small.

I flipped over the tire and looked at the tread. There was a spec of dust, and something white in about the right spot. The dust brushed away, but the white thing didn't. Ah-hah! On closer inspection, "white" turned out to be "shiny." That's not right.

With a bit of fiddling, I pulled the foreign object out of my tire: a 3mm length of about 22 gauge wire. It'd gone in at an angle, and was just barely poking into the innertube, and was just barely visible on the outside. Bleh!

Well, I'm glad that one went flat after I got home. It would have been a really annoying repair to make on the road, just because finding that little thing would have been difficult. So, hooray for small favors! And (solvable) mysteries!

Posted at 00:19 permanent link category: /bicycle


Fri, 16 Mar 2007

Bikey tune-up, a new horn, and a flat

Around the 650 mile mark, the bicycle started doing some weird things. Mostly around shifting -- shifting got harder.

So, I started poking around, and realized that, with the amount I've been riding in the rain, the ol' drivetrain has been basically washed free of lubrication, with road grit deposited in its place. Hmm, that might have something to do with it!

I made a temporary fix by shooting some WD-40 (I know, not the right choice, but it's a quick fix) into the rear derailleur and shifting through all the gears a few times. I'm glad I've got that bike stand at work. Much better now.

Then, the next day, I noticed that my shifter was behaving strangely. It has an index-finger trigger which upshifts, and then a thumb lever which downshifts. The trigger was working fine, but the thumb lever would sometimes just get stuck, and not spring back. This made it difficult to downshift again, such as when coming up to a stoplight. I kept having to downshift, then wonder why I couldn't downshift any more, then spring the thing back with my index finger so I could keep going.

I figured (correctly, as it turns out) that the shifter was low on lubrication, so I tried the WD-40 trick again. This didn't work so well, and even after I got the little cover off and shot the oil exactly where it needed to go, it just wasn't working. Obviously, it needed to come apart and get some grease in there.

Now, I'd never seen the inside of one of these shifters, but it obviously had a spring inside it, so I had a certain amount of trepidation that I'd open the thing up, and it would go SPROING! Springs and pieces everywhere!

As it turns out, that fear was at least partially justified.

The very first thing I did, in pulling off the cover, was to fumble the little tiny black screw the held the cover on, and see it dissappear somewhere on the ground. Hmm. The ground which is covered with little tiny black spots where people have dropped chain grease. Damn! Fortunately, it only took about 10 minutes' searching before I found it, where it'd skittered off a few feet and hidden under a table (naturally).

Next, I got off the central nut that was holding the whole shifter mechanism together. Amazingly, I didn't drop anything else. Feeling emboldened, I started pulling out pieces, and was immediately greeted by the sickening SPROING! I'd been dreading. Nothing flew out, fortunately, but I knew a spring had just unwound, and I didn't have any idea how much pain I was in for to get it back together.

I got everything apart, and surveyed the damage. It looked like I'd just pulled apart the world's weirdest clock. There was a heavy (well, heavy for a clock anyway) spiral spring, the two control levers (one of which had a spring-loaded pawl swinging aimlessly), a sort of central bushing, and two hair-fine washers. I didn't actually get all that out at first, thinking I could put it back together with some of the parts in place -- wrong, as it happens.

I had to remind myself several times, "Someone put this together in the first place. There's got to be a reasonable way to do it." It's easy for me to get into the mindset that I just have to put it together exactly the way it came apart (ie, if you take off pieces A and B, you can't take out piece C in order to aid putting it together). This is not correct, and after 15 minutes of fiddling with the spring and the thumb lever, it became clear that I was making no progress.

Pulling out the other lever was the key, and with that in hand, I was able to put it together in such a way that it seemed to work correctly. I even remembered to get some grease in there (which was the original goal before I got sidetracked by figuring out reassembly). It only took two tries before it was back together, and even seemed to be working right. Amazing!

Only half an hour had elapsed. After I felt that SPROING! I figured I was going to be standing there for hours. I happily put it all back together, and wiped off the excess grease I'd gotten all over. Back in action.

The night before I tried greasing the shift lever, I was huffing and puffing my way home in the final stretch. This is about a mile of "main" residential street, where a lot of intersections have yield signs for cross-traffic. I was approaching one of the yield-marked intersections, and I saw a car coming up on an intersecting path. I had right of way, so I kept plugging along, but kept my eye fixed on the car, and my hands on the brake levers. This is exactly the kind of situation where bicyclists get killed or injured, so I was ready. I thought of yelling to get the driver's attention, but decided it probably wasn't necessary.

I watched the driver slow down for the yield sign. She craned her neck around and looked up the street, away from me. Nothing. She looked back forward, and instead of continuing the turn, her head stayed forward, and the car started moving faster. I slammed on the brakes (probably 15-20 feet from the car at this point) and came to a stop 5 feet before I would have T-boned it. I yelled, "HEY!" at the top of my lungs, which is my sort of default "horn" noise.

The driver's head spun around, and she tapped her brakes. Her hand came up to cover her mouth, her face a perfect mask of "Oh my god!" horror. She sped off across the street.

That was the point at which I decided I really did want a horn. So that night I ordered one of these air horns, which arrived yesterday morning. I got it installed on the bike (I really have to take a picture -- that bike is more gadgets than bicycle at this point), and ended up giving a lot of drivers a quick "Hey, I'm here" double-honk on the way home. It's definitely loud enough, although I wish it wasn't such a high tone.

I would have used it this morning as well, but when I got out to the bike, I was greeted by a flat tire. My first "real" flat, I suspect, since that rim tape solved my flat-every-two-days problem back in October. I was already running late, so I decided that it wouldn't kill me to ride the motorcycle in this morning. I guess I'll have a flat tire to fix over the weekend. Hopefully the tire isn't too damaged.

On the other hand, I realized that I've been basically riding a bicycle every day for a couple of months. That's pretty gratifying.

Posted at 11:12 permanent link category: /bicycle


Thu, 15 Mar 2007

Commentary on the previous entry

The entry just before this one (chronologically, at least -- it's the next one down the page) is a letter I sent to Alex Edge of Motorcycle Daily. Part of the reason I'm so unhappy is that I've previously seen MD do good articles that take a very "normal person" point of view -- that is, they don't bow to the pro-motorcycle freaks, and they don't bow to the anti-motorcycle freaks.

To see them write up this loud exhaust system as if it were the best thing in the world is frustrating (as I'm sure you will get/have gotten from reading my email to them). I don't know MD's stand on EPA or loud pipes, but I expected better reporting from them. The token line about picking a different exhaust if you don't want to wake up your neighbors doesn't cut it.

I had long considered MD to be a source of sane motorcycle news. I don't suspect they're going to stop being that, but this is a step in the wrong direction. If I wanted articles about InSaNe Power Mods! I would be looking in the appropriate publication (and there are a lot of them).

So, I guess it's more of an "I expected better" letter than anything else. 'Cause, you know what? I expected better.

Posted at 11:17 permanent link category: /motorcycle


To: Alex Edge <alex@motorcycledaily.com>

Referring to:

http://www.motorcycledaily.com/07march07_zx14update2.htm

I'm glad you're enjoying the bike, but I have a gripe.

I know you've heard of the EPA and what they're doing, but for a quick refresher, take a look here:

http://www.mrf.org/epa.php

I'm not offering an opinion either way on EPA's actions.

My complaint is that by selecting a self-proclaimed "loud" exhaust system to fit onto your long-term ZX-14, and then talking it up like it's the best thing since sliced bread, you're doing motorcycling a major disservice in two ways.

The first way is that you're feeding the "gotta make it louder/faster" frenzy which has been lately demonstrated in the ever-larger motorcycles pushed by manufacturers. It's also demonstrated by people swapping out stock mufflers and intakes for aftermarket "off-road use only" (which I'm *sure* yours says as well) equipment. I don't suspect that particular trend is growing, but it still demonstrates the popularity of this kind of selfish bigger-better-faster attitude.

For what it's worth, yes, I understand that people are buying the bigger/faster bikes (so the manufacturers are arguably meeting a market demand), but it's led to a dearth of reasonable-sized motorcycles, particularly for beginners. Doubtless this is mostly due to the small profit margins available on small bikes, but it's something of a crisis when the average beginner considers a CBR600 a good first bike. (This is a tangential issue, but I don't want you to think that I'm unaware of market pressures.)

The second part of the problem is that every car, pedestrian (and most importantly) non-motorcyclist you pass with your new (and widely publicized) loud exhaust system is another pissed off voter. Worse yet, they're a lawyer or politician, and your growling rumble generator interrupts their self-important cellphone call or something -- now they're pissed, and all they see is some guy on a motorcycle. They don't see you, they don't see ZX-14, they just see "motorcycle."

That happens enough times, and we get the superbike bill again. Seriously, do you think it won't pass this time? Our only real defense against anti-motorcycle legislation is to keep ourselves off the radar. It's very hard for motorcycles to make brownie points; it's very easy to gather negative points. Loud pipes and all the hooliganish behavior conjured by them (whether the rider actually being a hooligan, or onlookers just thinking he is) paint all motorcycles on the radar with a huge blip. This is not about personal freedoms, it's about everybody working together. In the same way I don't blast music on my stereo at midnight, I don't put loud pipes on my bikes. I could, but it would be really antisocial.

If you want your ZX-14 loud and fast, great. Put it on a trailer, strip off the street gear, and run it on the track. It'd be a fabulous track ride, if a bit porky in the corners. That's where the loud exhausts belong. Not on the street, pissing off voters who only notice a motorcycle when it makes itself noticeable.

I am a motorcyclist, myself. I've been riding since 1999, and if you're curious about me you can see all my different bikes on the link in my signature line, below. I would like to keep being a motorcyclist. I think that flaunting the EPA's laws, and flaunting public annoyance (whether statute or actual angry people) is a good way to stop me being able to ride a motorcycle when and where I want. Writing about it as if it's this fabulous thing is among the more negative contributions I've seen in a while. Please consider your words and actions more carefully next time.

--
Ian Johnston http://www.obairlann.net/~reaper/ reaper at obairlann dot net

Posted at 11:00 permanent link category: /motorcycle


Tue, 06 Mar 2007

6 months and 600 miles

I just checked the odometer on my bicycle's computer: 601 miles. Plus about 20 before I got it installed, but who's counting? Me.

I bought this bike on the 16th of September, 2006, which is close enough to 6 months ago that I'll just call it that. In 6 months, I've ridden about 600 miles. That's not bad!

Particularly considering that my other bike, which I bought in January, 1999, has 900-some miles on its odometer. If I keep going at this rate, I'll have surpassed that number before June. It's impressive to think that by my own leg-power alone, I've traversed those miles. On top of that, there's a lot of up-and-down that's not accounted for in a simple monodimensional number like miles on an odometer.

This realization came about when I was filling out the calendar for Adobe's commuter bonus program for February. If you bike more than 50% of the time you come into work, they give you a little token, a gift certificate to REI or a local bike store. But in order to qualify, you have to fill out this form, including writing on every day that you took non-motorized transportation to get to work. As I was filling out the form, I realized that I commuted to work without a motor on 18 of the 20 working days in February. Wow!

When I started out, I was kind of aiming for bicycling to work 3 out of 5 days in a week. That wasn't much trouble, and after a while I stopped thinking about it. Then, a few weeks ago, I realized that it'd been several weeks since I'd fired up either the motorcycle or the sidecar rig. That was when it first dawned on me: I've been bicycling a lot.

I'm pretty happy about that. It's nice to know that it can be done. I'm no longer thinking, "I'll need a motor for that," and have started thinking, "I'd rather be on a bicycle for that."

Next up: let's see if Norco will honor their theoretical lifetime warranty on the old bike, and give me a new frame. I brought in the old one a couple weeks ago, so here's hoping!

Posted at 23:00 permanent link category: /bicycle


It's official

Yep, I've actually started moving.

After a surprising amount of calling around and gathering pricing and availability, I decided on a storage space 50 blocks north of me, on Aurora. Storage is damned expensive, at least in Seattle. Even so, I got what appears to be a reasonable deal, and I'm at least moderately confident my meager possessions will stay where they're put.

I loaded up the minivan (busted head gasket and all -- at least it still runs) tonight: two sets of herculean-strength shelves, and 8 boxes of books which are destined for Deep Storage. Kristin and I drove up the ever-sign-encrusted Aurora Avenue, and turned into the deserted loading bay of the storage place.

I got out, and typed in my fabulously long (8 digits!) gate access code. A moment passed, and the gate started grinding up. Success! I spied three cargo carts hidden behind a locked door, and confidently keyed in my code again. Failure! The "Call Manager" light blinked silently at me, the door remaining resolutely locked. I tried again; maybe I'd mis-keyed. Again, the red light winked at me, refusing to let me in on its secret. I jabbed the unlabeled button in the center of the little console. Nothing happened. I tried my code again. Again the imperious little light. Again with the button-jab. Still nothing. Apparently when they say "On-site managers" they're actually kidding.

Remembering the Chinese definition of madness ("He who repeats the same actions expecting a different result is mad"), I moved on. Maybe the elevator would reveal a hidden treasure-trove of sturdy carts. Up to floor 4, where my unit is located. Nope, no carts there. Down to floor 1, below where we'd started. Ah-hah! Two carts, lurking nonchalantly outside the elevator door. I snagged one, and dragged it back into the elevator. Back up to floor 2, where the van waited.

Cart successfully in hand, we loaded up the boxes of books, and trundled the gravid cart out to my space. Out with the lock, and up with the door. Behold! There is a small table-tent paper-thing. "Just like a hotel," remarked Kristin. The table-tent assured me that some lackey had swept the floor and greased the door, but had neglected to check that the light bulb was functional. Slackers! Fortunately, the light was working, so they were spared my considerable wrath.

We loaded the boxes into the space, where they looked small and huddled. I went back down and retrieved the disturbingly dense (but oh so strong) shelf units. These are sold at Costco for $50 each, and claim that each shelf can hold 1500 lbs (which is to say, two portly motorcycles, or 1/2 of the average family sedan). Each shelf. Not each unit, each shelf. That's a pretty sturdy device. I'm unlikely to be testing those claims. But I know where I can keep my valuable lead ingots!

I briefly considered trying to actually construct one of the shelving units, but was overcome by hunger and Kristin's sad look as she pondered waiting around uselessly while I swore and made clanking noises at her. We adjourned to the van, locking the unassembled shelf things and the forlorn books in their corrugated steel cage.

So it's official. At a rate of $180 (plus tax, of course) per month, I have a new home-away-from-home for all my weird stuff. Better get cracking; there's nothing like spending money to get me in gear.

Posted at 22:35 permanent link category: /misc


Wed, 28 Feb 2007

I am nerd, fear me

I did my taxes early this year, and it was plain that I was getting a little something back from the IRS. Enough to justify a completely frivolous purchase: a Nintendo DS. I've vaguely wanted one for a while, and that extra cash plus a looming trip to San Jose (which would involve long hours in airports waiting for the probulator) pushed me over the edge.

So, after a bit of digging, I picked one up used from Craigslist. It came with one game: Bust-A-Move, which isn't real compelling for me. It's fun enough, but my forte doesn't lie with quick-reaction games.

I cruised the reviews a bit, and settled on a different game I was interested in: Animal Crossing: Wild World. I picked up a copy at Fry's (already being there for a different mission). I haven't really been able to put it down since.

It's a strangely compelling game. It's a sort of "life simulation," in which you're a character in a little town. You play the only human (unless you have friends who also play), and everyone else is a computer-controlled anthropomorphized animal. There's a koala, a frog, a chicken (confusingly named Goose), a duck, and so on. The whole thing happens in real-time, which is to say that the game's clock is tied to the real clock. It gets dark in the game approximately when the sun goes down outside. There was snow on the ground until February 26th, at which point it was suddenly spring-like (maybe the Japanese have an odd idea of when spring starts).

You can go fishing, or hunt bugs, or dig for fossils. These things can then be sold for money (to pay off your mortgage, of all things), or donated to the museum, or given to other characters in the game, who usually respond with some other item. It sounds simple and silly, but if I'm not careful, two or three hours can slip by as I play.

Anyway, I wanted to put up some news that wasn't all depressing like the last few posts. I'd definitely call this good (or at least engrossing) news. Just in case any of my half-dozen readers also plays this game, drop me a line with your friend-code. I'd love to try out the Wi-Fi connection, but trading codes with JoeCool2143 from some Animal Crossing chat board seems like a questionable idea at best.

Posted at 14:58 permanent link category: /misc


Fri, 23 Feb 2007

Let the bad news continue!

So, you remember that minivan I bought a few weeks ago? Yeah, the one that was the nice, reliable Toyota, that despite nearly 200 thousand miles, didn't seem to have any troubles?

It has troubles.

While I was running around in Oregon recently, I noticed that the heater wasn't working all that well, then later noticed it was nearly overheating. I stopped at the nearest place which had water and antifreeze, since it was obviously low on coolant. I waited the requisite 30 minutes to open the cap, since I didn't want to compound the situation with steam burns on my hand.

Filled the tank (there's no radiator cap), and drove on. No problem.

Then, on the way back home, it did it again. This time, if I shoved the heater control all the way to "hot," the problem went away. The rest of that trip was spent with the temperature gauge as part of my instrument scan, and a quick hand for the heater lever.

A week ago, I had another occasion to take it out, and when I got to one of my destinations, I heard an ominous bubbling as I pulled to a stop -- and realized I hadn't been keeping the temp gauge in my scan. I clicked the key momentarily back to ON and sure enough, the temperature gauge was pegged. I went off and ran my errand, and an extra one a few blocks away, to pass some time. I filled the tank (having kept the antifreeze and water handy), and proceeded home.

So I brought the van into a very reputable shop yesterday, and described the symptoms, and what I thought the problem was. The man behind the counter kept this bemused expression on his face which said, "You have no idea what you're talking about." I assured him that I did know what I was talking about, but agreed that I didn't want him to blindly fix what I thought it was. Rather, I wanted him to find the real problem. He said he'd get to it around midday today, most likely.

As I was riding home last night, I heard my phone ring, so I pulled over and flipped it open.

"This is Ian."

"Hey, this is Nathan, from the shop. I'm calling about your van. I'm afraid I've got bad news."

"Lay it on me," sez I.

"Well, we started looking at it, and decided to do the head gasket check first. It failed. Badly."

"Oh."

"Yeah, so this problem usually totals one of these cars: it's a $2500-3000 fix. You have to drop the motor, blah blah blah," he went off into technical details.

Bottom line, my $3k investment ("Hey, I should be able to sell it for about what I paid when I'm done, right?") is gone. Three grand essentially wasted. I might be able to sell it for $500-1000, maybe, or it may be that I'll have to sell it to a scrapyard for a couple hundred dollars. It's got a lot still right with it, so I'm also going to look into finding a used engine, and I may just drive it as-is and top off the coolant every time I drive it.

Anyway. So much for selecting a brand known for longevity, and a model reputed to be without problems. So much for paying a mechanic to do a pre-purchase inspection. Have I ever mentioned how much I hate dealing with buying and selling vehicles? Yeah.

Posted at 09:51 permanent link category: /misc


Tue, 20 Feb 2007

Welcome to your new Stadtsflughafen. You will obey!

I took a flight recently for business. I came away with a few impressions.

The first step of the journey was to visit our friendly government website describing which substances, devices, and articles of clothing were allowed on a plane that day. Hmm, although there's only about .7 ounces of deodorant left, that container is a 5 oz container, so it's on the no-fly list... Ditto the toothpaste, guess I'm checking a bag...

3:30 am: the alarm goes off, and I stumble out of bed. The taxi will be here in 30 minutes... Blargies... Food. Peanut butter, sure. Apple juice. Augh! Why is the refrigerator light so bright? The sun won't be up for another 3 hours, I don't need this kind of blindness right now.

The phone rings, and I answer. "This is Ian."

"Hello, this is the Greytop/Yellow cab company calling."

"Hel--"

"We are calling to let you know that your taxi will be there in two minutes. Click"

Urgh. Slam remaining apple juice. Say goodbye to blissfully-sleeping Kristin. Into the cab.

"Good morning, Mr.. Ian, right?"

"Yeah, that's me."

Forced, too-chipper conversation. This is the cabbie's first time? Oh, today. He knows how to go, right, because he went to college down that road. Ah, a BA in Poly-Sci? Wow, that's... yeah, you're driving a cab.

Seattle is pretty before sunrise. I wonder what the other drivers are doing on the road at... Ugh, 4:20 am. No one should be awake at this hour.

Fiddling with the tiniest credit card device in the world. Receipt. Shuffle forward into the line... Line? Check watch -- yep, 4:30 in the morning, and there's a line at the ticket counter. Must remember: never travel on a Monday morning again.

Plastic smile on the person behind the counter. She labels my checked bag. "Sir, would you mind just pulling this off for me?" The strap has offended her. Into the side-pocket with you, non-TSA-compliant strap! Little bag (with potentially deadly .7 ounces of deodorant! and toothpaste! inside) dissappears into the krill-straining maw of the metal whale.

Security line. Long tape barriers stretched out to keep the mob in line, only there's no mob. Stentorian voice: "Remove your shoes. Take off any metal objects and place them in your bag. Place your laptop in a separate bin. Place your shoes in a separate bin. Your belongings will be searched. Your orifices are ours for the probing." What? The Orwell is strong with this one. A low-production-quality video accompanies the Big Brother speech, showing a lifeless automaton obeying the stern commands. A suspiciously phallic "metal detector wand" sweeps over the dull subject on the screen, but the scene cuts before anything "happens."

Shuffle forward. No crowd, but you still have to wait. "Sir, do you mind if we re-scan this?" "Do I have a choice?" I don't say. "Of course not," with a plastic smile. Can't upset the TSA people, or they'll have that "wand" out. Citizen, relinquish all freedoms! Your flight might take off without you!

They didn't find any bombs or 3.1 oz bottles of hair gel, and hand my bag back. I re-attach all the metallic fiddly-bits to myself, and shuffle down to the subway to the N gates. Frightening, Stalinist mosaics of frustrated travelers, straight from Monopoly money, stare down at me, mocking the shuffling pre-dawn zombies.

Automatic, driverless subway train pulls up, and the zombies swap places. I sneak a glance at the robot's guidance system -- those rails are only a foot apart! Who decided on such a narrow gauge track? What am I, some kind of subway-track nerd? The robot drives us on, along an Oruboros track to nowhere.

Up, up, into the N gates! Two sets of escalators and one set of stairs. I'm the only person who opts for the stairs. So static and unpowered. How will I ever manage?

The sign points thataway, at the furthest corner of the building for my gate. The Alaska Airlines tuba song from their 80's ads plays in my head, replacing the Communist Russia march which had been playing. I march forward, sweating under my bag, past the sports bar (open), bagel restaurant (closed) and the newsstand (closed). What's wrong with this picture?

At last, rest. At my gate, with only... Check watch. Oh look, I'm an hour and a half early. Sigh. Ah, the gate attendant is here, I can check to see.. if.. That sign-board they're booting up is showing the Windows XP startup screen. I should have known, we're all doomed! And it's throwing errors! Ugh.

...

So, yeah. It could be safely said that flying is not the most enjoyable thing I've ever done.

Posted at 22:19 permanent link category: /misc


Wed, 14 Feb 2007

Kjersten's memorial service

Just in case any of my (and Kjersten's) old friends are reading this and getting timely information from it, I have word of her memorial service:

Forwarded message:

A memorial service for Kjersten Oquist will be held on Saturday February 17, 2007 at 2:00PM at the Portland Golf Club.

5900 SW Scholls Ferry Rd
Portland, OR 97225

Club phone # is 503-292-2651 if you need it for directions.

Those in attendance are invited by Kjersten's husband Collier, to share a thought, memory, reading or the like if they choose. He asked that you RSVP so they can be prepared for any amount of attendees.

RSVP by Friday 2/16/07 2:00PM if possible to:

Janet George
minifddlr at verizon dot net
503-319-3310

Posted at 14:28 permanent link category: /misc


Mon, 12 Feb 2007

Saying goodbye to someone I hardly knew

(I've updated this entry a bit as memories clarify themselves to me.)

I found out today, as described in this article, that my old friend Kjersten Oquist died yesterday.

I first met Kjersten when I was in 7th grade. She was in 9th grade, and played the violin, although even at that age, she was starting to tend towards viola. We played together for a year in the school orchestra. She was one of the better players in the orchestra, and I think held first chair of the second violins. We got to know each other a little bit over the year, although the difference between a 7th grader and a 9th grader was sufficiently huge that I perceived a huge gap between us, even though there wasn't really one. The year ended, and she went on to the high school (I was in junior high, which goes from 7th to 9th grade, and the high school covered 10th through 12th).

Despite being in different schools, we still saw each other on occasion. I know we met at the odd orchestra festival, and we may have attended each others' performances. She had apparently marked me out as someone to watch, as I recall meeting up with her specifically at festivals, where other people from the orchestra passed by with a nod.

A couple years passed in this fashion, as we met occasionally, and we maintained a sort of loose friendship. I always admired her, for her musical abilities, her intelligence, and increasingly for her sheer attractiveness. (As I've previously mentioned, I seem to have had something of a scattershot approach to crushes in my early "love" life, since they seemed to be confined solely to my own mind. Kjersten was, in retrospect, a very worthy subject of my admiration.)

We met up again in high school. I was now in 10th grade, and she in 12th. We interacted through the orchestra, as well as through mutual friends in the drama department, and through the school paper.

She was the editor of the school paper, and I quickly signed on to be Photographer General. Actually, I was just one of the photographers, the other was a young woman whose name I've momentarily forgotten, who was also a senior. I credit her with teaching me a great deal about how to develop black and white film (yes children, back in the day when a camera used an arcane chemical process, rather than an arcane electronic one!). In any case, I wanted to be on the paper because they needed a photographer, and I was deeply into photography. It was a pleasant bonus that Kjersten was the editor.

I could describe all sorts of things about being on the paper, but all of the memories of Kjersten are pleasant ones. She was a very forgiving boss (if boss is the right term). We would commonly stay late (I think we had a staff of about 5 people, and getting the paper laid out and together would commonly take until 9 pm with all of us working hard from the end-of-school bell at 3-something), getting the paper ready for the printers. This involved these obnoxious and universally-reviled wax applicators, which were supposed to roll sticky wax onto the back of copy, so it would stick to the layout sheets. Instead, they seemed to apply wax to anything which came within a few feet of them: clothing, hair, hands, shoes, all over the table, all over the layout paper, etc. Finally, we resorted to using the wax roller as a heating pot, and were just applying the wax with brushes. It was easier, cleaner and neater.

Throughout it all, Kjersten maintained a wry sense of humor that kept everyone going. There were tense moments, to be sure, but we were all having fun. It didn't take long for me to develop a full-blown Deep Crush<tm> on her, although I never did anything about it (since it was all inside my head).

Late one night, we were alone in the newspaper room, everyone else having finished their jobs and gone home. Kjersten and I were finishing up the layout, and she would drive the assembled sheets over to the printer in the morning. Something had just happened which put me in a bad mood, probably a mis-placed 1 pt line (imagine nearly hair-width black tape used to outline stories). Utilizing my new Adult Vocabulary, I exclamed "Fuck!" about whatever had just gone wrong. She looked up from the table, smiled sweetly, and said, "Maybe later." Stunned at the potential implications of this (having taken a minute to work out what the implications were), I must have smiled shyly at her, and continued about my job, the tension having vanished. (This may have been the moment when the mere Crush turned into a Deep Crush<tm>.)

I have, etched permanently in my memory, an image of her leaning over a layout table, with a grey felt fedora perched incongruously on her head, smiling back at me. Her smile is sweet, her eyes twinkling despite the dull flourescent lights glowing from the ceiling.

Between late nights working on the newspaper (copies of which were usually found littering the halls of Woodinville High School mere minutes after it came out) and orchestra, we saw a fair amount of each other. Looking back on it, we were actually pretty good friends, although the age gap was enough at the time to prevent me from thinking of her as one of my social circle. She was, but I wasn't experienced or mature enough yet to figure that out.

Kjersten had a face like those excessively cute Campbells cherubs from a contemporary ad campagin, cute dimples and all. Except, she looked more grown-up, as if one of the rosy-cheeked cherubs had gained about 12 years but kept the innocence. She had blond hair which fell straight down to her shoulders. I don't specifically recall her height, but it strikes me that she wasn't tall. Mostly, I was perpetually aware of the simple presence of her.

I don't recall, now, if I attended her graduation or not. It seems likely I did, although it was probably in my capacity as a cellist playing Pomp and Circumstance with the orchestra, and I certainly don't have any reliable memories of the event. I had a surprising number of friends who were 2 years ahead of me, and it was within that circle that I found myself most comfortable. My own classmates were never very interesting, although that may have been a case of the grass looking greener over there.

Fast forward many years, to 1997. I'd just graduated from college, and was living in Seattle. I got an invitation to Kjersten's wedding. I was pleased she still thought of me, and gladly attended. I was late for the majority of the service, probably because of traffic. She got married in Bellevue, which can be quite a trip from Seattle if it's a high-traffic time. But I was there for the recessional, and the reception afterwards. Of course, it was nearly impossible to get near her or the groom (who I didn't know), but I got a moment to say congratulations and give her a hug.

Practically speaking, that's the last time I saw Kjersten Oquist. About 4 years ago, I got a note from her, passed by my mom, that she'd like to hear from me, accompanied by a phone number. Perhaps a year later, I finally tried calling the number, but it rang with no answer, and I put it in the back of my mind to try later.

Of course, now it's too late. I don't feel too bad about that, we chose our separate paths, and I don't think she felt neglected by my lack of contact (I didn't feel neglected by hers). I was pleased to know that she was working with my mom, and I'd hear of occasional sightings as they passed at rehearsals. As has happened with many people in my life, she drifted out of it, but I was still happy to know that she was around. Now, that happiness has drained away.

When I read the article I mentioned at the top of this entry, it had been forwarded to me by my mom, with the simple title "Bad news multiplies." I read through the headline, thinking one of her orchestra companions (largely unknown to me) had passed away -- some of the players in orchestras can be quite elderly, and indeed that's sometimes how new players get openings to join orchestras.

When I started the first paragraph, a little chill came over me, and my eye skipped down. When I saw Kjersten's name, I felt a physical shock, like I imagine it would feel if a ghost flew through you (see the Harry Potter movies). It was this enormous, unreal moment. The conference call I was on became so much buzzing in the background as I read through the details of the article, and realized the enormity of the sudden change in my life.

It's a little bit too late, but, thank you Kjersten, for helping me get through the morass which was secondary education. I am very happy to have had you as a friend. I hope that, whatever happens after this life, it's pleasant for you; you deserve it. Fare well.

Posted at 17:54 permanent link category: /misc


Thu, 08 Feb 2007

Alternate realities

North West, North America

Seattle Calm as Nationalists, Loyalists Talk in Spokane

by Eric Westervelt and Ian Johnston

Alternate Reality, February 8, 2007 - A tense calm has taken hold in the Washington city of Seattle as residents await the outcome of crisis talks between radical factional leaders in the holy city of Spokane. The negotiations between senior Loyalist and Nationalist officials are seen as a last-ditch effort to form a unity government after months of internal fighting, which has left scores dead -- including more than one hundred in the last month.

Many on the streets of Seattle see the talks in Eastern Washington as the last best chance to avoid a full-fledged Washingtonian civil war in this densely packed coastal strip.

The University of Washington, Seattle's largest higher education institution, shows the deep scars and intensity of the recent Loyalist-Nationalist clashes. Wednesday, thousands of shocked and curious students toured the devastation. Late last week, Loyalist gunmen stormed the 25-acre campus, and set fire and bombed almost every building here -- classrooms, offices and large parts of the library are in ruins. The walls are charred. Burnt computers and broken glass litter hallways.

Tracy Arrington, 20, was snapping pictures with her cell phone in stunned disbelief at the massive damage. She said,"To know how it was and to see how it is now, I cannot recognize it. It's totally destroyed."

Arrington, like most here, is keeping a close eye on the crisis talks in Spokane aimed at forging a unity government and averting more internal violence. But she says the destruction of her school leaves her distrustful there will be a lasting breakthrough.

"I'm not very optimistic," she said. "I hope they'll be able to agree, but I don't think so because this shows that some people in the Loyalists want to destroy any kind of agreement!"

The University has strong ties to the Nationalists, the militant Liberal movement now in power here. But the school serves 17,000 students, secular and religious -- a majority of them women. Witnesses say members of Leonard Smith's Presidential Guard did the damage. The Guard claimed the Presidential compound was taking mortar fire from the campus. But there are no signs of firefights here: witnesses say Loyalist men simply went on an arson and bombing rampage.

Nationalist gunmen retaliated but did less damage when they attacked the Seattle branch of the Nationalist-affiliated Seattle Pacific University. Roger Blenheim, the University of Washington's President, says it almost doesn't matter which faction did what. The attacks, he says, delivered more self-defeating blows to Washingtonian society.

"These universities are the cornerstone of all society to develop," he said. "So to have somebody attack these universities, to burn, to demolish everything, I think it is outside any logical, any justified basis."

Political analyst William Fordham, from Seattle Pacific University, says despite the optimistic signals coming from the Spokane talks, the fundamental gap between the Loyalist and Nationalist parties remains enormous. The Loyalists' leader Jim Highman has said he'd only sign off on a unity government that meets demands by Europe and Washington, DC, the capitol of the former United States -- that the Nationalists recognize Utah, renounce violence and recognize signed agreements. Fordham says the Spokane talks will produce a long-term truce only if the Nationalists make a clear ideological and financial break with their main sponsor, California, and embraces the two-state solution political platform of the Loyalists.

The two sides continue talks Thursday in Spokane.


With thanks and 99% writing credit to Eric Westervelt and National Public Radio. Original story appears here. This version is intended as political satire.

I was listening to this story this morning, and was inspired to try making a "local" version. It's about as frightening as I thought it would be.

Posted at 09:44 permanent link category: /misc


Wed, 07 Feb 2007

A picture is worth a couple hundred words, at least

I can already tell that you, my clamoring public, demand the very best. And there ain't nothin' better than pictures:

[1995
Toyota Previa]

That's the van as I looked at it on Saturday. It looks pretty much the same now, but not quite so surrounded in speedboats on trailers.

Posted at 12:04 permanent link category: /misc


Tue, 06 Feb 2007

I am soccer mom. Fear me!

I've done it. I bought a minivan.

What's funny about this is that everyone I know has asked me questions like, "Why are you buying a minivan?" and "Are you crazy?" These are closely followed by, "I wouldn't want to be caught dead driving a minivan!"

Then they lose a bit of hyperbole, and just start making jokes about soccer balls.

As I've mentioned before, a minivan is actually a really excellent match for what I want to do: haul boxes and building supplies, and later maybe people and theater stuff. And, I've actually dreamed, on and off, of having a minivan for a number of years now. Strange as it sounds, they've long appealed to me for their immense practical value.

Anyway, the van I picked up is a 1995 Toyota Previa. It's the rear-wheel drive version (versus the all-wheel drive version), and being a 1995 model, includes a supercharger. Yep, I own a supercharged minivan. Dear god. I actually can't tell there's a supercharger there, although I'm assured there is. It doesn't make that cool turbo whine or anything.

My new minivan (which I shall call any of "TIE fighter," "Godmobile" or "The Jelly Bean" -- the first due to its license plate, the second due to its previous owner (a Brazillian missionary), and the third because it looks like a jelly bean) came with 198 thousand miles on the odometer, but doesn't really look like it. That is to say, it's in very good shape. It drives like a minivan, and not like a tired old minivan. The inspection revealed almost no problems.

One very interesting problem is that the windshield washer doesn't work. "Interesting?" I hear you mockingly ask. Actually, yes. I popped the hood, and peered down into the washer tank. It was bone dry. "Oh duh," thought I, and grabbed a pitcher of water to pour in. I started pouring, thinking "This is going to be the cheapest repair ever!" Then, I noticed the noise. It was the sound of water pouring onto the ground. Apparently the reservoir tank has a hole the size of Michigan in it. I wonder if epoxy will stick to that plastic... (Ok, maybe it's not interesting to you. It was to me.)

Anyway, when it's all said and done, I'm really glad to have that off my mind. I was spending too much time cruising Craigslist and Auto Trader looking for minivans. Now I can get my mind back on more important things, like packing, and writing journal entries.

Posted at 23:36 permanent link category: /misc


Sun, 04 Feb 2007

The reality/virtual divide

So, take a look at this:

[Ian riding a
CB400... Or is it?]

Pretty neat, really. If you ignore the text in the corner, you could almost believe that's a real person riding a real motorcycle.

What it actually shows is a collection of pixels generated by my PS2 as I played Tourist Trophy, which is the best motorcycle videogame I've ever tried. That's "me" riding a Honda CB400SS, which may or may not be a real bike. Available evidence suggests that it's not real, but I'd love to be proven wrong on that one. Whether or not it's real, it's very cool. I was riding on TT's representation of the Infineon Raceway.

I actually saved a whole slew of pictures like this, just to see how it'd work. They're all of roughly the same quality -- a little bit too perfect, but close enough to reality that you have to look twice to make sure. I'm fairly impressed.

So yeah, TT is a neat game. It's still plainly a video game (for instance: you can grab your brakes full-force while leaned over as far as possible -- in reality, this would immediately dump you on the ground, but in the game, it tightens up your line nicely), but it's the closest to reality I've found yet.

Of course, now I'm afraid that it's training up a bunch of young potential motorcyclists who are going to think it's just hunky-dorey to grab a handful of brakes to tighten up their line through a corner. That group is in for a few hard lessons if common sense doesn't take over quickly.

Posted at 21:44 permanent link category: /motorcycle


No. Just, no.

There's apparently a new record shop opening up in Greenwood (a neighborhood of Seattle).

A Golden Shower of Hits

I could not make this up if I tried.

Posted at 14:21 permanent link category: /misc


Sat, 03 Feb 2007

How not to do it

I should just start a series, entitled "How not to do it."

Anyway, I went down early this morning to look at two Previas. Both were in Tacoma (well, one in Tacoma, one in Gig Harbor). I had arranged to meet with seller #1 at a YMCA in Fircrest, which is a suburb, perhaps, of Tacoma. We were to meet at 9 am, which was early, but made space in the day for other things I had to do.

It happened that I talked to someone about another one in Gig Harbor, which is close enough to Fircrest that it'd be silly to pass up the chance to see it too. I arranged with seller #2 that I'd call him after I was done with #1.

Kristin, in a fit of boldness, decided to come with me, which made the trip a bit easier -- it takes 45 or 50 minutes to drive to Tacoma, even with no traffic.

We arrived at the appointed spot after a bit of confusion -- he'd given me the address as 1102 S Pearl St, but the YMCA was plainly at 1002 S Pearl. Oh well, I got into the parking lot, and cruised up and down. And up, and down. And sideways, and some more up and down. Damn, that's a big parking lot!

We spotted two Previas, but no one was hanging out by either one. I pulled out my phone, and called the number I had for him. No rings, straight to voicemail. Ok, that's not cool. I left a message saying I was waiting for him.

We eventually settled in a parking spot to wait to see if he'd call back. I called him perhaps 5-6 times, each time greeted by his voicemail prompt. Finally, having patiently waited until 9:30, I called him again and left a message saying I was off to look at #2, and he could call me until 10:30. After that, yeah, don't bother.

So, I have to say, if you're trying to sell a car? Maybe try showing up for appointments. And even so, maybe keep the phone on. That kind of treatment is bad enough that I wouldn't buy his van even if it was the perfect thing.

Fortunately, #2 (a 1995 model) turned out to be in very good shape, even though it had 198,638 miles on it. The AC didn't work, and the driver's side mirror wobbled, but those were the only two complaints, really. I was impressed.

Fortunately again, while I was calling dork #1, I got voicemail from someone else who was selling what I'll call #3, a 1991 Previa with about 140k miles. I'll be looking at that tomorrow. Best of all, it's been maintained by Highroad Automotive, who are famous for doing preventative, "keep it running forever" maintenance. Cool! Between numbers 2 and 3, I feel like I've actually got choices. Maybe it'll even be a hard choice.

Posted at 13:53 permanent link category: /misc


Fri, 02 Feb 2007

Finally, progress!

Well, it's not a lot of progress, but it is some.

Wednesday evening, through the exceedingly kind graces of Cascade Auto Clinic (who stayed open 40 minutes past their normal closing time for me), I was able to drive a Toyota Previa.

The one they have for sale is busted down and overpriced, but that's not the point. The point is that the Previa, as a model, is perfect for what I want. It's got a little engine (and so won't be terrible on gas mileage), a timing chain versus a belt (no changes every 90k, or worrying about whether it's been done), and it's huge inside. They're also available for around $3000-4000, which is about what I want to spend.

So I have finally made the decision on which model to look out for. That is an unreasonably large relief, I think I was starting to go crazy trying to balance all the tradeoffs and options available.

The particular one I drove was in kind of a sad state. The salesman (who, again, was very nice and pleasant to work with) said, "One of the rear wheel bearings is starting to go, and for our price, we'll replace that." So I was prepared for a bit of bearing noise.

I got out to the van (in a pitch-black lot to the side of the building), and started going over it with the little keychain flashlight I had handy. Generally looked pretty good, although the front right tire was a touch low on air, and there were numerous slow leaks apparent on the engine case.

I got in and started the engine. It turned over and caught with no trouble, and ran a little rough for the first few seconds. Nothing too unusual. I started playing with controls: heater, fan, lights, air conditioning, turn signals, radio, etc. That's when things started to get pretty wonky.

The hazard flasher, which was the first thing I tried, didn't work right. The lights would blink on and off once, then stick on. Try again, they just came on without blinking at all. I tried the normal turn signals, and they seemed to work alright. I turned the lights on, and movement on the dash caught my eye: the engine temperature gauge had flickered from "cold" to "mid." I noticed a minute later that it was back down to cold.

The radio, although lit up, wasn't making any noise. I played with a few radio controls, but it was obviously having none of it. Several control backlights (apparently a weak feature for Toyota) were non-functional. One of the brake lights wasn't lighting up when I stepped on the pedal. The "Oil Change" light was illuminated on the dash. The air conditioning button produced no change whatsoever. No indicator light, no change in engine speed, no change in temperature (the heater was blowing warm by this point). At least the fan worked.

I got permission to drive it after a couple minutes' wait in the office while my driver's license was photocopied. I climbed back into the driver's seat and got myself adjusted. Oh, and the electrically-operated outside mirrors weren't working. They were close to the proper adjustment, at least.

I put the transmission in drive (alas, manual transmission is pretty much unheard-of any more; another sign that the average American consumer is getting less and less connected to anything), and rolled out. Immediately, the back of the van emanated a loud noise.

I pulled out onto the road, and it got louder, but then when I took my foot off the gas pedal, it faded to nothing. Oops, that's not a wheel bearing, that's the rear differential! That'll be the difference between a $5 part and a $500 part. I'm not so sure of the techs at Cascade Auto Clinic, now.

The rest of the drive (brief though it was) passed quickly. The rear differential was clearly on the verge of failure. The turn signals ended up having the same hanging problem as the hazards. Otherwise, it handled really well for a big van-thing, and I was surprised at how easy it was to drive (or I was totally distracted by the loud banshee-wailing coming from the back of the van, I'm not sure which).

I was very pleased with visibility out of it, and it was pretty obvious to me that, for my purposes, the Previa was the best compromise I'd find. It lacks in the "dirt-hauling" category, but at least one review I read suggested that they all come with a trailer hitch receiver, and even if they don't, it won't be too expensive or difficult to fit one. Toyota apparently rates towing capacity at around 2500 lbs, which is more than I'll even want to haul behind it.

So, hooray for narrowing my choices! Now I just have to find one that doesn't have a gazillion miles on it.

Posted at 12:44 permanent link category: /misc


Tue, 30 Jan 2007

It's the choice of no choice

Researching things on the Internet is making me crazy. Consumer Reports (which I've long subscribed to online) will only show used car information back 10 years (to 1997). They won't even publish their road tests of older cars, which would be incredibly useful to me. So, I'm left to research based on much more... variable, I guess, data sources.

The chief vexation is coming from the "user reviews." Of course, the only people who write them are pissed off that their car just broke for the 10th time. But when I see 326 pages of reviews (and 90% of them are of the "arg, the transmission fell out again" variety), it gets depressing fast.

Add onto this that I have this weird set of conflicting priorities, and things get messy fast. For instance, I want a vehicle which:

Problem is, there is no vehicle which meets all those requirements, period, the end. If there is, no one's let me in on the secret.

Little truck? Can't carry people at all. Cheap and reliable cancel each other out.

Minivan? Apparently it's impossible to buy a minivan for under $4500 which isn't a horrible pile of scrap. I'd live without the dirt-hauling capability, but still, they're either $6000 and up, or prone to the transmission falling out (why can't anyone figure out transmissions?). Against all odds, something like a Chevy Astro (which is otherwise about right) has the worst crash test results in the world.

Full sized van? Neither cheap nor fuel efficient, and not necessarily all that reliable. Probably not all that safe either, but then I'd have mass on my side.

Station wagon? Not all that capacious for either cargo or people, although something like a Corolla Wagon hits cheap, reliable and efficient pretty well. So I'd still have to rent a big truck (or get a trailer) for moving anything bigger than boxes, which kind of negates the benefits.

Another key part of this whole thing is that it changes by the minute. For instance, between when I wrote that last paragraph and started this one (about 10 minutes), I've come around to the idea of getting a small station wagon with a trailer hitch, and just renting a lightweight trailer from Uhaul when it comes time to move the sofa or any other big things. It's very confusing.

So, the short version is, "I don't know." You've seen the long version above. Rest assured that whatever I do, I'll doubtless report it here.

I definitely remember why I hate buying vehicles.

Posted at 15:14 permanent link category: /misc


Sun, 28 Jan 2007

The elusive truck

If you've been following along, you'll have at least some idea that I'm looking around for a truck or something. I'm headed back into the 4-wheeled world, at least for a while.

Anyway, my search for a truck has been difficult, at best. I found one that looked really promising, but an inspection revealed that it needed $400 minimum in work, with $900 in recommended work (timing belt and associated stuff). It also had a leaking rear main seal, which would have been another $900+ job in 0-10,000 miles. Not the best deal in a $3000 truck.

I looked at a few others, but none of them really stood out as being worthy. Finally, this weekend, I came around to the idea of a minivan instead of a truck.

The minvan has a number of compelling features:

So, I went and looked at this one today:

V6, 3.0L, Automatic, Rear wheel drive, auto windows and door locks. It
runs good and looks good. It's a teal green color with grey interior.
The interior is good with no rips. It has 131,800 miles but has always
been taken care of. My grandpa has owned it for years and only drives
it around his town to do his errands. Kelly Blue Book is $2140 for good
condition so it's a steal at $1900. Come take it for a spin.
714-928-2118.

It was much as described, although "always taken care of" may be stretching it a little bit: the air conditioning didn't work, and the airbag light had been covered over with a piece of black electrical tape. It was flashing a code 41, which apparently means "PRIMARY CRASH SENSOR CIRCUITS HIGH RESISTANCE OR OPEN." Presumably grandpa didn't feel like shelling out the big bucks to have the airbag fixed, so he just covered the light.

It was heavier than I was expecting, although that makes sense: the Aerostar was built on a truck frame. Of course, that also means it's got a 4400 pound towing capacity, which might come in handy. It's certainly got plenty of room, being literally a scaled-down full-size van.

Other than the AC and airbag fault, there didn't seem to be much wrong with it. The engine block had a bit of oil on it, but nothing extreme, and not bad for a 23 year old car. Overall, I came away from it feeling it was a "not bad" choice. Of course, coupled with a price of $1900 (more than a thousand dollars cheaper than the roughly-equivalent Toyota truck I looked at before), "not bad" starts to look "pretty good."

Factor in things like the fact that insurance may be less (lower market value), and gas mileage will be about comparable, and it sounds even better. Of course, it's still a big fat gas guzzler, and I'm not excited about that, but it sounds a lot better than renting a truck every time I'm going to need one.

I'll have to think further on this.

Posted at 19:37 permanent link category: /misc


Wed, 24 Jan 2007

Snow tires, baby, yeah!

My snow tires arrived today, in a freakishly small box:

Of course, it's 47° out there right now, so my prediction of the warmest winter ever is coming true. Hooray for irony!

Posted at 19:33 permanent link category: /bicycle


Mon, 22 Jan 2007

I am slacker, fear me!

So, I finally finished up the review of the Electric GPR that I started a year ago, and then promptly forgot about. Sheesh.

Anyway, there it is, enjoy!

Posted at 11:53 permanent link category: /motorcycle


Sun, 21 Jan 2007

Welcome to the big leagues, baby

What with a bunch of upcoming craziness, which will include me having to shut down my server for a while, I decided to try the hosted life for a bit. I started small, and got dangerpants.com (my "art and stuff" domain) set up. Worked well. Speedy.

Getting obairlann.net working (the site you're looking at now), was a bit more daunting. I finally figured out all the wrinkles, and it's now hosted as well. Well, it will be by the end of tomorrow, anyway. Propagating that kind of information can take a day or two.

So, as you read this, you should be noticing that it's not all as slow as it used to be. In fact, if you've got a fast connection to the Internet, you should see really fast performance. Oh glorious bandwidth!

If you see anything odd, let me know. The scanner stream changes a little bit, but should still work. Unfortunately, it's still one listener at a time, since my hosting provider doesn't have any way to restream an MP3 stream.

Posted at 19:23 permanent link category: /misc


Sat, 20 Jan 2007

On being an adult

[Ghirardelli Square]
Ghirardelli Square
Over Christmas, I was in the Bay Area, and we made a day-trip into San Francisco. One of the places we visited was Ghirardelli Square. Of course, at Ghirardelli Square, one of the shops is a Ghirardelli shop, where you can buy any manner of chocolate.

As we walked into the shop, an employee indicated a tray of free samples she was holding. "Would you like to try a Murfle Bleegee Bam?" I don't remember what it was, some kind of new chocolate they were pimping, in little packages that reminded me of the mints they put on hotel pillows. I debated for a moment, and decided in favor of wild and crazy. I thanked her, and picked one up.

I found the seam on the package, and pulled it up to rip open the top and release the petit morseau inside. Something seemed odd, and the package felt lighter than it should. I took a closer look.

They'd already opened each package, cutting one end clean off. I had chosen the closed end, and tried to open it, inadvertently and silently letting the little square of chocolate drop to the ground. I had that sinking "Oh great," feeling, and picked up the dead chocolate, tossing it in the garbage.

My brother had looked on to this miniature drama, and said, "They'll probably give you another one." I shook my head, and said, "No, it's fine."

And that's exactly what it's like to be an adult.

Posted at 14:43 permanent link category: /misc


Tue, 16 Jan 2007

Snow tires

So, the extended craziness with the snow and the ice and the FREEZING! and glaven... (Think Jerry Lewis as channeled by Professor Frink.) I'm getting fed up with it. That's right, I'm getting snow tires for my bicycle.

700c Nokian Hakkapeliitta W106 35mm, image courtesy Peter White Cycles

Crazy? Maybe. Crazy like a fox! At least I won't feel so trapped in the snow and/or ice. The sidecar rig is fine and all, but the only tires I can find for it are terrible in the rain much less snow or ice. I'd rather ride the bicycle more anyway. It just works. Well, hopefully it'll just work.

They should be here in about a week, which, according to cosmically preordained laws, will mark the beginning of the warmest stretch of winter weather Seattle has ever seen. I'm looking forward to the irony. Stock up on warm-weather clothing now!

Posted at 14:52 permanent link category: /bicycle


Sun, 14 Jan 2007

DEEP FREEZE 2007!

DEEP FREEZE 2007!

I'm sure that's the title the local news is using to describe the weather we've been having for the last few days. Since Tuesday evening last week, it's been at or below freezing. I saw maybe 3 inches of snow at my house, but the temperature is what's important.

I've been seeing between 19° and 28° F here. That's unseasonably cold for Seattle, the lowest we normally see is just a bit below freezing. Then, this morning, I awoke to find the scene you see above, where every tree has been coated in a layer of beautiful frosting. The thermometer tells me it's 24° F as I write this.

Of course, all this has more or less shut down the city. We're not used to the cold. Our pathetic fleet of sanding and road clearing trucks is just barely enough to cover the arterials, which tend to be cleared by traffic anyway.

Of course again, this has left me more or less locked in my house. Half of my transportation options are two-wheeled, which is pretty much a non-starting idea when the road is randomly as slick as an oil patch. Oh, I could certainly ride the sidecar rig around, but something about climbing aboard a device which is going to increase my perceived wind into the road-speed range sounds improbably and numbingly cold. That leaves riding around in Kristin's car, which, while not exactly a 4WD traction monster, at least sports a healthy heater and a set of crumple zones to protect against other idiot drivers. The biggest problem with that is that Kristin has her own life, so she and her car are only here part-time.

The forecast is for the temperature to rise above freezing on Monday. Well, it was a few days ago, when word was that Monday would see 40°. Now, the forecast is just for "highs in the 30s," which could mean anything. I may be locked in for a while longer.

Perhaps the oddest thing about this weather is how suddenly it came on. On Monday and Tuesday last week, it was in the mid 40s, and clear. Then, all of a sudden, the weather story was all about this horrible cold front that would be coming through. They weren't kidding.

That seems to be the theme of the weather lately: suddenness. I'm so accustomed to weather which tips its hand hours in advance of actually doing anything. Is it raining? Then you could probably see huge, lurking clouds for hours beforehand. Snow? Yeah, you could smell it half a day ago, and see the clouds scudding in from the north.

Lately, the weather has all been happening very quickly. The best example is that on Tuesday, I went into a meeting at 2 pm, for which I had to cross the street at work. At 2, it was slightly overcast, calm and dry. The meeting wrapped up quickly, and I was out by 2:20. When I got out, the rain was pouring, and strong, gusty winds were blowing the raindrops up the street. I don't think I've ever seen weather develop that fast in Seattle.

All of which ties in neatly with increasing evidence for global warming (cue ominous music). I have no concrete proof or anything, it's just a feeling I get. Certainly one of the side-effects of increasing heat in the environment should be more exciting weather (not just generally being warmer). More heat in the atmosphere means more energy to evaporate water, and between heat and evaporating water, you've got the prime motivators for the world's weather. More weather is probably not the kind of excitement we really want.

Posted at 11:13 permanent link category: /misc


Fri, 12 Jan 2007

The hosted life

Of interest to almost anyone who attempts to access my website: I'll be going hosted soonishly. That is to say, instead of my datas travelling across my miniscule and bravely struggling "144k" iDSL line (remember 56k modems? my DSL line delivers data to you at about half that rate!), they'll be living on a hulking, overpowered machine somewhere in Los Angeles, to be blasted into your browser at approximately the bandwidth of pure sunlight. That is to say, right now.

Most people should notice a considerable speed-up in accessing my eclectic ramblings and amateurish photos. With the tremendous surfeit of space, I might even be able to start hosting the odd video clip. (Oooh! How 2003!)

The transition will be happening slowly. It turns out that my website is a brain-smashing 7 GB in size (go look at what I have, and you'll see why it's so brain-smashing -- it's not like I've got that much). Suffice to say that transferring that data via my little 1/2 56k modem will be slow and painful. I'm going to investigate burning the whole thing onto a slew of CDs and sneaking into an unsuspecting coffee shop to upload it, or something. Pity I can't just send the CDs down to LA, that'd probably be a lot faster.

Posted at 13:58 permanent link category: /misc


Tue, 09 Jan 2007

Paying off a karmic debt (at least partially)

Way back in 1997, after I graduated from college with a bunch of friends, my friend C and I got an apartment in lower Queen Anne together. It just made sense, neither of us had much money, and we were long used to having (and being) roommates from college. We even both got jobs at the same company, F5 Labs.

I only lasted 4 months at F5 before being laid off, and he lasted about a year, hating every minute of it. But that's not the point of this story.


Note: not this actual car; one like it
Being flush with the phat cash (after college, any income at all seemed like phat cash), C decided he wanted to buy a car. Not just any car, he found a 1970 MG Midget (or something very similar), a sporty, fun convertible. The guy selling the MG was over in Bellevue, and we headed over to check it out.

The seller lived in a shi-shi part of town, and told us he was a lawyer. The car looked pretty good, with no obvious defects. It was definitely from 1970, the engine compartment was a study in simplicity. It had a trip permit rather than a conventional license, and the seller explained that he hadn't had a chance to get the license renewed, so he'd just gotten a trip permit.

We took the car out for a test drive. It was a blast. The exhaust note was incredible, it pulled hard, and it cornered very crisply (well, crisply for a 1970 MG, anyway). Very nice, and we were both thrilled with it. I had a vague twinge in the back of my head that I should tell C to get it inspected, just in case. I'd recently started on the habit of getting any used vehicle I bought inspected at a dealership or mechanic before buying it. It was a little bit more trouble, but seemed like a good insurance policy. In any case, I either forgot or elected not to pass on this bit of advice to C.

He bought the car, and brought it home. He'd tool around contentedly, the exhaust rumbling, and the wind in his hair. It was a really neat car.

Of course (you knew this was coming), when he took it in to get the license tabs renewed, he was told he needed an emissions check. He took it to the nearest inspection station, and got the bad news: it didn't pass. He had several choices: he could repair it up to some dollar limit (perhaps it was $400), or he could replace all the missing emissions equipment (mostly an air pump, as I recall). Either option ended up costing about the same, but it was money he couldn't afford to spend.

The last word I heard on that car was that, disgusted with it, he sold it to some car broker on Aurora for $300, a tenth of what he paid for it. I felt horrible, because, of course, it had occurred to me to say he should get an inspection done, but I'd never actually uttered the words. Who knows if an inspection would have found the problems it had, but a trained mechanic would certainly have a better chance of finding the issue than we would. In any case, I felt like it was at least partially my fault.

Our lease came up, and we parted ways in 1998, moving on to find different living situations. I quickly lost direct contact with C, although we kept in touch online for a while longer via IRC. In 2003, C got married, and that was pretty much the last I heard from him. Presumably the married life was engaging enough that it occupied all his time.

Over the next 4 years, I invited him to the various parties I threw, but never heard back. I was sad to see him dissappear out of my life, but we'd been good friends since 1993 or so, and so I wasn't too surprised to see us take different paths after a decade.

Fast forward to last week. I saw him pop up on IRC again, and mention, among other things, that he was getting divorced, and getting into vinyl records, and motorcycles. Ah-hah! thought I. A chance to renew my acquaintance!. I didn't really know how to pursue it, but by chance he responded to another email I'd sent to a large group, and we started talking bikes.

He mentioned that he was going to look at a temporary, "tide me over" bike (he's on the list to get a new Honda 919) last night, and I asked if I could come along. I love doing this kind of thing, plus I felt like I owed it to him after the MG debacle.

He sent me the link to the listing (that link will be dead in a week, sorry in advance), which includes the following gem:

* Has a rebuilt title because it was backed into and fell over - not
stolen or wrecked. Minimal cosmetic damage. No engine damage. Rides
extremely well. 

I sent C a bunch of links on salvage titles, and how he should be very wary. (For what it's worth, a salvage title means that a vehicle has suffered damage bad enough that it would cost more to repair than the vehicle is worth. On motorcycles with fairings, this can happen very easily, and without impacting the bike's safety or handling, since the fairing plastics are stunningly expensive. On a motorcycle like the SV650, which has no fairings, you'd have to do bad things to it to achieve "salvage" status.)

The appointed hour arrived, and I headed over to the meeting spot, a supermarket parking lot north of the University district. I spotted C leaning against a railing wearing a riding jacket, with his helmet sitting nearby. I looped around and found a good parking spot, and we got to chatting. It was almost as if there had been no pause in our friendship, which was very nice. Since the divorce seemed like a potentially sensitive subject, we just didn't talk about it, which seemed to practically erase the missing years.


The seller's picture of the bike, from the Craigslist listing; obviously pre-tipover
The SV650 seller arrived, and we started looking it over. He seemed really nice, and I didn't get any creepy vibes off him, which was very good (some people selling used vehicles really rub me the wrong way). He explained how the knock-over had damaged the bike, pointing out a dent here, a crack there, and so on. Nothing terrible, and nothing that really leapt out at me, at least initially. The worst part was probably the broken instrument cluster, which was covered by a particularly ghetto length of duct tape.

After a bit of a chat, C climbed aboard and rode off. I chatted with the seller, and ended up giving him advice on how to look at used bikes. This SV was his first bike, and he was more than happy to get pointers on how to evaluate the purchase of his next bike. I drew his attention to the obvious things I could think of.

C returned, and proclaimed that it was nice, but felt completely different from what he's used to -- he's currently riding a 20 year old Honda Rebel 250, which looks like a really tiny Harley. It's the other end of the motorcycle spectrum from the SV650. In any case, he was enthusiastic about it. The seller asked me if I wanted to go for a ride, and I agreed that I did.

Immediately, I noticed that the handlebar was bent, with my left hand lower than my right. I mentioned it, and both C and the seller agreed after looking at it. Neither had been aware of it, but it was obvious as soon as I sat down. That was the first real danger sign.

I rode off, and down Roosevelt. I took a number of turns at a very moderate speed, but the handlebars pressed hard into my hands, wanting strongly to fall into the turn. That's not normal, and it's definitely not good. Danger sense quivering!

The engine felt fine, actually quite good. I do love the SV650 engine, they came up with a real winner there. The clutch was a bit strange, but only from the standpoint that I wasn't used to it. No indications of trouble. The brakes were fine, in fact everything else about it seemed great. That front-end problem weighed heavily on my mind, though.

When I got back and stood back from the bike, I thought I could see a slight bend in the front forks, as if someone had rammed the bike hard into a wall or something. Neither C nor the seller could see it, and I started to wonder if I was imagining it. The seller assured us that the bike had never been in a front-end collision. I told C that I would be very wary of the bike.

Despite my warnings, he gave the seller a generous (and non-refundable) deposit to hold the bike until he could take it to be inspected. It felt strange to me, but I'm not C, and he's not me, so I kept my mouth shut. He and the seller stood talking for a bit longer, and as I was letting my eye rove over the bike, I suddenly saw it. "It was in a front-end collision," I said. I pointed at the front wheel, and they both crowded around. The front wheel had an obvious flat-spot where it had smacked whatever bent the forks. C confirmed that it was on the other side as well.

The seller packed up and left, having given a receipt to C for the deposit. C and I chatted some more until his taxi came to take him to his next appointment.

I went home with misgivings. C seemed really excited by the bike, despite my words of warning. However I felt like I'd already delivered the gloomy news, and he had to deal with it however he wanted to. Repeating that gloom wouldn't earn me any points, and wouldn't help him at all.

And so, I was very relieved when I opened my email program this morning to see a message from him, which basically said, "Now that I'm over the 'gotta have it' fever, I think I agree. Do you think I should walk away from this deal?" This was followed by several other messages full of other potential bikes from Craigslist. Phew! (I did reply with a "Yes, walk away" message, just in case the decision wasn't firmly made in his mind.)

The moral of the story? I guess that it's never too late to make up for past mistakes.

Posted at 12:18 permanent link category: /misc


Thu, 04 Jan 2007

Acoustic bass guitars, part II

Well, that was "easy." I went back into Dusty Strings today, and played around with the Tacoma again. After the experience in Guitar Center, I felt much better qualified to judge the Thunderchief's tonal quality and volume (although I do feel silly typing Thunderchief).

In a word, beautiful. Nice projection. Full tone. Really, quite beautiful. No fret buzz. It was even easy to play, seeming to be more compliant, despite a higher action than most of the other basses.

I came away from that thinking, "I should just get the Tacoma and stop worrying about it," but I wanted to check out the Epiphone that American Music had mentioned.

So I bided my time, and waited for 4:30 to roll around, which was when I was told to call. I dialed, and talked to Kim, the woman who'd helped me on Tuesday.

"So, did you get that shipment of new bass guitars in?" I asked after introducing myself.

"Oh, actually," she said, "I was wrong about that. There's this show that's happening in a few weeks, the [name of show] show, and we're probably not going to get anything in until then, or even after then. Look, let me take your name..."

I cut her off. "Actually, that kind of makes the decision for me. See, there's this Tacoma Thunderchief down at Dusty Strings..."

She went on to say that, oh yeah, the Tacoma pretty much blows the Epiphone out of the water anyway. That was enough. I was working on the nearly-paranoid assumption that there were 20 other bassists casing Seattle instrument shops looking for this very thing, so the thought of waiting weeks to check out an inferior bass just didn't make sense.

The Thunderchief (bad, bad Native American stereotype jokes keep occurring to me) really was the best bass I'd tried. It was too expensive (or at least more than I wanted to spend), but it was the best thing.

I restrained myself to a walking pace going back to Dusty Strings after work. As I walked in the door, the woman behind the counter asked, "Can I help you with anything?" I replied, "Yep, I'm here to buy a bass!" as I breezed past and to the corner where the Thunderchief was residing. I heard her excited sort of clucking noises in the background as I picked up the instrument, and plucked out a few halting blues riffs on it again.

Kristin came down (deeply needing an excuse to stop working), and I played for her, as she'd become my extra ears at Guitar Center. "Oh yeah," she said, "that's way nicer." I'm pretty sure she wasn't just egging me on so I'd shut up about it already. I also blew $25 on a stand, which is a luxury I've never had before, as I didn't realize they could be had so cheap. I even spent a dollar and six cents on some picks (why the guy behind the cash register didn't offer to toss them in after I paid nearly $850 for the bass and stand is slightly boggling). I've never tried using a pick before, and figured I might want the volume enhancement at some point.

Anyway, the group I've been playing with (no name, just two or three other people who like to mess around making music) met tonight, and I was able to put my new WampumBuster to work right away. It's pretty nice. I've wanted an acoustic bass guitar for... [counts on fingers] 14 years. I'm really glad I finally have one.

Posted at 22:30 permanent link category: /misc


Wed, 03 Jan 2007

Acoustic bass guitars, part I

I've been to look at several different acoustic bass guitars now, and I figured I'd note my impressions of them. This is partly for my own reference, so I'm not going to dig up links to each of them. If you're not interested in ABGs, this is going to be a boring post.

The first thing I played was an Ibanez AEB30, which was used at $399. It seemed very quiet, but the acoustic environment at Trading Musician was pretty loud, so it's hard to say objectively how loud it actually was. I could barely hear myself against a background of several other people playing amplified instruments. I also know now that $399 for that bass used is a terrible price. You can get an AEG10 (which seems to be about the same thing) for $350.

Next I played a Dean Playmate, which was a bit better, but not by much. It was new. Similar price, too. It had a considerably larger body than the Ibanez, but didn't make a correspondingly more impressive sound. The Dean was $419.

Finally at that store, I tried an Ovation something or other, with all the funky soundholes up in the corner near the base of the neck. It sounded brassy and bright, and noticeably louder, but I hated the tone. It was $500 or $600, as I recall.

I was pretty dissappointed after that, and figured that would be about the end of my search. I did some digging on the old InterTubes, and found that the mythical beat-all ABG is a Tacoma Thunderchief, but of course they're not making them any more. I found a couple on Ebay, but they were $900 or so, except the one for $200 with the broken and (ugly) repaired neck and head.

Yesterday, I stopped into Dusty Strings, which is the nutty/crunchy acoustic music shoppe in Fremont. I didn't have high hopes, but it's right there in my regular lunch prowling grounds, so what the heck. I was about to leave, when I spotted the odd offset soundhole of, whaddaya know, a Tacoma Thunderchief. I sat down and played it a bit, and it sounded pretty good. It had a faint buzz somewhere inside, but made a good volume, and had a good tone. I was favorably impressed, and this one was only $750. Hmm. (Still too much money, but it might be one of those things where I kick myself later for not jumping on it.)

On the way home, I pass right by American Music, so I stopped in there to see what they had. Turns out they had a Breedlove 5-string (only $1200!) and an Ibanez AEB10 ($350 or so). I tried them both, and found the Breedlove to be nicer than the Ibanez. Duh. The Ibanez was fine, but unimpressive. The Breedlove was nice and a bit louder, but not $850 louder. The person who helped me out there said they'd be getting in a few more on Thursday, and that an Epiphone El Capitan was definitely worth looking at.

Today, I made the mini trek to Guitar Center, to see what they had in stock. They had two Michael Kelly (a 4-string and a 5-string), two Breedloves (4- and 5-string), and an Ibanez AEB10. I played them a number of times, finally with an audience (Kristin) to tell me how the projection sounded.

I'll take them in order.

The Ibanez sounded a bit flat, and quiet. It was the least favorite there, and also the cheapest, at $350.

The two Michael Kelly models sounded nearly identical, brassy and bright, and much louder. Neither Kristin nor I liked the tone, though, as being too brassy and obnoxious, or too much like Gilbert Gottfried's voice, or something. The 5-string's lower two strings (E and B) were difficult to play at any volume without a lot of fret buzz.

The Breedloves ($800 for the 4-string and $1200 for the 5-string, same as at American Music) were interesting. The 4-string sounded almost identical to the $350 Ibanez. Quiet and kind of flat tone. The 5-string was the favorite tone, fuller and louder, and without all the fret buzz.

Interestingly, fret buzz was prevalent on all of the basses I've tried, with the exception of the Thunderchief. That's the biggest thing to recommend it, now that I think about it.

On an amplified bass, you don't have to hit the string too hard to make a lot of noise. Need more noise? Just turn up the amp. On an acoustic, you have to whack the string pretty hard to make a big noise, so you end up running into fret buzz. I'm sure if I were a better/more experienced player, I wouldn't have as much trouble with it.

I'm interested to see what I think of the Epiphone tomorrow, and to go back and play the Thunderchief if it's still there. Going to Guitar Center tonight was pretty informative, since I finally had a number of different basses all together, and could play them back to back to see what the differences really were.

Another thing I need to keep in mind is that apparently (according to the all-knowing internet) there can be significant differences among different serial numbers of the same model. Everyone who claims to know anything on the topic suggests that it's best to play every one of a store's selection once you've found a model you like. I guess the differences can be quite remarkable, although no one's offered a really good explanation of why it happens.

Posted at 22:20 permanent link category: /misc


Tue, 02 Jan 2007

Christmas quickie

In the spirit of crass commercialism which is Christmas, I put the following verbiage on my wishlist:

I am told my classical selection is "gloomy," focusing as it does on
requiems and organ music. I'd love help expanding my classical CD
collection.

I received a CD from my mom (who is infinitely more knowledgeable about classical music than I am). I had a guess that she'd read my wish and was going to impart something light and airy, or a nice chamber quartet. What did I find when I opened it?

Carmina Burana, by Carl Orff.

(Note: I love it, but it was completely opposite of what I was expecting, and merited several laughs.)

Posted at 14:56 permanent link category: /misc


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