7 Years
I had my Leatherman tool, on my belt, for seven years. My soon-to-be-PhD-advisor-at-the-time, Dr. Steven Siciliano, gave me a Leatherman Charge TTi - a top-of-the-line multitool - before my first field season with him and his research group in 2009. He gave it to me around March or April of that year, and I've worn it on my belt nearly every day since then.
That's around 2500 days of that lump of complex, hinged, bladed metal on my left hip. I've gone through three sheaths and I don't know how many subconscious hand-passes over my belt to make sure its still there.
Early this year I accidentally tried to take it through security at Pearson International Airport, on my way to visit Charlie in February. The security personnel were quite nice and polite about it, and let me mail it back to myself in Waterloo; it was waiting in my mailbox when I returned a week later.
At the end of my 6-week-long bookended-by-conferences early-summer-2016 fieldwork I sent it in to Leatherman's facilities in Burlington, Ontario, for warranty repairs. Before I flew from Calgary to Fredericton, I went to Canada Post and sent it to Ontario. Tonight, it has been returned to me.
Or rather, an updated substitute has been returned to me, and my Leatherman is no more. Because the Charge TTi has been replaced in the Leatherman Inc. lineup by the Charge Titanium, that is what I now have. This new Charge Titanium is a thing of beauty, a tool of vast utility that fits perfectly with the accessories (sheath, screwdriver bits) I was instructed not to send in. But it's not my Leatherman (yet).
The knife blade is flawless, not the chipped, scratched, and haphazardously-sharpened blade I used to cut ludicrously-fresh tomatoes and pears on the top of an Arctic mountain.
The saw blade is perfect, not the scratched, difficult-to-open tooth I used to cut branches and an uncountable number of zipties (using the sharp hook on its tip) on seven years of Arctic expeditions and Prairie Rivers canoe trips.
The file - both sides! - is clean to the point of optical illusion along its cross-hatched surface, and bears no trace of the steel soil-gas probes I filed and filed and polished and cursed before fitting their machinist-perfect but field-work-distorted hammer-cap on to drive into the rocky soil of the Arctic polar deserts.
The pliers are smooth and shiny, not the sticking, misaligned grip I pulled endless nails from endless boards with.
Even the scissors, tiny and sharp, are quite excellent, and not the cutters I pushed and squeezed through paper, string, cardboard, and plastic over the majority of a decade.
I'm going to enjoy and appreciate this tool over the next seven years - or more! - but I do feel like an old friend has been lost, and a concrete symbol of my PhD has disappeared.
Thank you, Leatherman, for making such fine tools. I hope my use of this new multitool lives up to the legacy of the previous one. And thank you, Dr. Siciliano, for sending me down this pathway seven years ago.
Showing posts with label Stuff. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stuff. Show all posts
Friday, June 10, 2016
Saturday, February 27, 2016
Betty Crocker Cookbook #33: Spiced Corned Beef Brisket with Horseradish Sour Cream (pg. 156) - 160204
I
chose this recipe to use up the rest of the very-salty "navel"
beef I'd bought for recipe #21. I washed the beef chunks in running
water for about 10 seconds to remove some salt. As with nearly
everything I put into my slow cooker, everything emerged after 9
hours that same colour of brown, and quite soft.
Despite
my slow cooker's tendency to colour everything the same, the taste is
more robust. Especially salt. This was still pretty salty. Also, I'm
now convinced that I have, at some point, completely ruined my
ability to taste the hot/spicy part of the flavour of horseradish. I
glopped a huge amount of the horseradish sour cream on this, and it
was delicious but completely non-spicy.
Also!
I finally bought a freezer. $60 from a person moving out of a house
in Cambridge.
Sunday, January 17, 2016
Betty Crocker Cookbook #13: Mashed Potatoes (pg. 464) - 160110
I had some leftover
Christmas turkey & stuffing taking up valuable room in my
'fridge's freezer - I still don't have a proper stand-alone chest
freezer - and I didn't really have the ingredients necessary to
tackle any of the recipes in this book designed to use up leftover
cooked turkey or chicken. I also had a good supply of potatoes and
this easy recipe is very similar to how I would prepare mashed
potatoes anyway, before I started this project.
I did not substitute
any ingredients, but I cooked the potatoes slightly differently than
how the book instructs. Rather than boiling whole potatoes, I sliced
them up and cooked them in my pressure cooker. Mashed potatoes is
pretty much the only thing I use my pressure cooker as a pressure
cooker for, rather than simply as a medium-large pot. Despite being
about as old as me (or possibly older), the seal is in good shape and
it builds up enough internal pressure to set the vent swinging
noisily back and forth, a sound I associate with my childhood because
this pressure cooker was given to me by my mother after she had used
it for years. Thanks, Mom!
Wednesday, January 06, 2016
Betty Crocker Cookbook #6: Chai (pg. 61) - 160105
We had intended to make Chai yesterday, to provide us with some caffeine to stimulate our cleaning-and-organizing activities on Charlie’s last full day here at Skootamatta. We forgot to even consider beverages – hot or cold – until most of the day’s tasks had been completed, including the overwhelming majority of the physical activity. We got most of the tasks that directly benefit from daylight – chopping and bringing in firewood, fetching lake water (Charlie had to chop ice with an axe), and setting up the heating system for Tarrandus, my truck (her cabin-heating system is broken due to a jammed-in-the-cold-position blend door, so I used a small space heater that runs off household 125v alternating current to pre-heat her before today’s 2.5 hour drive to Ottawa International). Thus we felt we wouldn’t need a caffeine fix at 5:00pm and opted for an alcoholic choice, instead (wine!).
Also, we’re
pretty frickin’ Canadian around here.
No photo
again, because, again, I forgot to take any while Chai was being prepared. The
recipe is basically “add milk to brewed tea” plus some spices – though we
didn’t have any cardamom so that was omitted. The hot, sugary (sweetened
condensed milk accounts for about 1/9 of the total dairy in this recipe) tea
went into a big thermos we had with us and we drank it as we drove down Ontario
Highway 417 eastwards into Ottawa. It was, once again, really, really good.
***
Charlie
provided me with an Excel file that includes all 634 recipes in the 2006
edition of the Betty Crocker Cookbook. So this cup of tea represents six down,
628 to go. Clearly, I need to increase my average rate to around two recipes /
day if I’m going to complete this project in one year. Charlie convinced me
this time limit should be my goal, because if I allow the project to drag out
longer from the outset, I greatly increase the risk of never actually finishing
it. A deadline is a useful thing for focusing my mind, and I’m already
pondering options for completing some of the more ambitious recipes that
require techniques I’ve never tried before such as deep-frying and candy-making
as well as what to do with the tremendous amounts of food that some recipes
will generate – there are three recipes that are built around whole turkeys
(one involves a turkey-swallowing, propane-powered deep fryer), for example, plus half a chapter of
casseroles. Not to mention the cakes, pies, batches of cookies, and general
make-supper-for-your-whole-family recipes that form the backbone of this book.
I will be
buying some non-food items to support this project, obviously. First on the
list is a chest freezer, an item I’ve wanted ever since I gave my old one to a
friend-of-a-friend when I left Saskatchewan. Other things I’ll be searching for
include a candy thermometer, more plastic storage containers (to put in the
freezer), and a waffle iron – I’ll be browsing the local thrift shops for this
and a few other items, with Walmart and its ilk as my backup plan. I’m pretty
sure I’m not allowed to have a BBQ at my apartment, so either I’ll be using a
friend’s (helping with the what-to-do-with-all-this-food problem) or buying one
for a friend, and visiting often.
Monday, October 12, 2015
The End of (My) Summer
Tomorrow I will pick up my rental trailer, fill it (and my truck) with my abundant possessions, and drive East. This marks the final stage of my move to Ontario - started at the end of March, and I've been between homes (or simply homeless) since then. I measure this by the time elapsed since I last paid rent - unless I find an apartment for half-way through October, I will have avoided paying rent for 7 months by the time this move is complete.
A quick bit of googling (google-mapping?) leads to an estimate of 31 hours total driving time from Regina to Kitchener/Waterloo, taking either of two entirely-Canadian routes that diverge near Nipigon, Ontario. Highway 17 follows the north shore of Lake Superior and around Georgian Bay, while Highway 11 takes an inland route further north. I took 17 the last time I went that way - back in late March. This time I plan to take 11 because there are fewer elevation changes along the inland route. There are a few roads that connect 11 and 17 in their western parts, which will allow me to revisit this decision if, for example, weather conditions at Longlac are very poor.
I received an email from U-Haul today informing me my reserved trailer would be guaranteed available at noon tomorrow, which is later than I'd like to pick it up; hopefully they'll let me have it tomorrow morning. Then I need to pack it and get moving. Kenora, Ontario is approximately 8 hours away, and I am fine with arriving at a hotel in that small city at some late hour. I am also fine with a lesser drive tomorrow, so I might end up merely somewhere east of Winnipeg, or even in that city.
My planned stops - and plans are slippery fish that change and change again - are Kenora, Longlac, and North Bay. That places me within about 5 hours of K/W on Friday. I get a free month of storage with U-Haul, that I have already arranged for a drive-up locker at one of their facilities in Kitchener. Rather than struggle to move my possessions, that I have been apart from all summer anyway, into my friends' basement (up the stairs, through the doors, down the stairs) I can just dump the contents of the trailer and most of what's in the truck into this storage locker and then leave the empty trailer.
If I don't make this schedule I will be disappointed because there are people in Ontario waiting to see me, and a birthday party and other festivities to attend this upcoming weekend, but it won't be the end of the world. Assuming no serious problems on the road, and I fully plan to take it easy and slow, I think I am in danger of losing at most a day, and if things go very well I could conceivably arrive in southern Ontario late on Thursday. Rather than put in a punishing 12-hour day followed by at least an hour to unload, I'm OK with paying for a hotel room in Barrie or wherever if I'm in very good shape as I pass North Bay.
I don't have a picture to go with this post, so here's a shot of the delicious saskatoon-berry pie and coffee I had at Ness Creek back in July.
A quick bit of googling (google-mapping?) leads to an estimate of 31 hours total driving time from Regina to Kitchener/Waterloo, taking either of two entirely-Canadian routes that diverge near Nipigon, Ontario. Highway 17 follows the north shore of Lake Superior and around Georgian Bay, while Highway 11 takes an inland route further north. I took 17 the last time I went that way - back in late March. This time I plan to take 11 because there are fewer elevation changes along the inland route. There are a few roads that connect 11 and 17 in their western parts, which will allow me to revisit this decision if, for example, weather conditions at Longlac are very poor.
I received an email from U-Haul today informing me my reserved trailer would be guaranteed available at noon tomorrow, which is later than I'd like to pick it up; hopefully they'll let me have it tomorrow morning. Then I need to pack it and get moving. Kenora, Ontario is approximately 8 hours away, and I am fine with arriving at a hotel in that small city at some late hour. I am also fine with a lesser drive tomorrow, so I might end up merely somewhere east of Winnipeg, or even in that city.
My planned stops - and plans are slippery fish that change and change again - are Kenora, Longlac, and North Bay. That places me within about 5 hours of K/W on Friday. I get a free month of storage with U-Haul, that I have already arranged for a drive-up locker at one of their facilities in Kitchener. Rather than struggle to move my possessions, that I have been apart from all summer anyway, into my friends' basement (up the stairs, through the doors, down the stairs) I can just dump the contents of the trailer and most of what's in the truck into this storage locker and then leave the empty trailer.
If I don't make this schedule I will be disappointed because there are people in Ontario waiting to see me, and a birthday party and other festivities to attend this upcoming weekend, but it won't be the end of the world. Assuming no serious problems on the road, and I fully plan to take it easy and slow, I think I am in danger of losing at most a day, and if things go very well I could conceivably arrive in southern Ontario late on Thursday. Rather than put in a punishing 12-hour day followed by at least an hour to unload, I'm OK with paying for a hotel room in Barrie or wherever if I'm in very good shape as I pass North Bay.
I don't have a picture to go with this post, so here's a shot of the delicious saskatoon-berry pie and coffee I had at Ness Creek back in July.
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
Vanquishing Evil
This summer, during fieldwork at Alexandra Fjord on Ellesmere Island, I made a disturbing discovery. I found a collection of old leg-hold traps in the toolshed while searching for some other thing. This discovery of hateful, cruel, stupid objects weighed on my mind for several weeks until I was able to deal with it, through the careful application of violence.
Seven leg-hold traps, of the approximate size to capture Arctic Foxes, Arctic Hares, and similar-sized animals.
I hate the idea of some person eventually re-using these awful objects for their original foul purpose, and images of desperately trapped foxes, hares, falcons, and other animals haunted my mind. I puzzled over the best way to ensure their complete destruction; they are constructed in a simple and robust fashion, without any obvious weak points that might be susceptible to say, a bit of work with a hacksaw.
The spring mechanism is based around a curved piece of steel held in tension by a plate/latch. No part is obviously fragile enough to be easily broken by simple techniques.
I determined these traps were still functional - for their cruel function - by carefully setting one and releasing it with a broom-handle I found.
Fortunately, brute force was quite up to the task of annihilating these traps. I found a large pick-axe in the same toolshed where the traps had been hanging, and when placed upon the soft gravel of the ground outside that toolshed, the traps were easily broken apart with a few swings. I don't think I broke any individual parts, but I did separate each piece from nearly every other piece.
The end result: 7 ruined traps.
When I told my companions of what I had found and what I planned to do, there was some discussion of the ethics of the situation. For example, somebody suggested these traps would be best left alone as representative of the history of the Arctic and of Alexandra Fjord. While there is merit in this argument, and in the related argument that they should be turned over to a museum, I felt the risk of their eventual re-use by some person at some point in the future (things decay slowly in the High Arctic) was too high, and I couldn't rely on a complete cultural change preventing any future return to the stupid cruelty and idiot economics that drove (and still drives, to some extent) the fur trade.
Seven leg-hold traps, of the approximate size to capture Arctic Foxes, Arctic Hares, and similar-sized animals.
I hate the idea of some person eventually re-using these awful objects for their original foul purpose, and images of desperately trapped foxes, hares, falcons, and other animals haunted my mind. I puzzled over the best way to ensure their complete destruction; they are constructed in a simple and robust fashion, without any obvious weak points that might be susceptible to say, a bit of work with a hacksaw.
The spring mechanism is based around a curved piece of steel held in tension by a plate/latch. No part is obviously fragile enough to be easily broken by simple techniques.
I determined these traps were still functional - for their cruel function - by carefully setting one and releasing it with a broom-handle I found.
Fortunately, brute force was quite up to the task of annihilating these traps. I found a large pick-axe in the same toolshed where the traps had been hanging, and when placed upon the soft gravel of the ground outside that toolshed, the traps were easily broken apart with a few swings. I don't think I broke any individual parts, but I did separate each piece from nearly every other piece.
The end result: 7 ruined traps.
When I told my companions of what I had found and what I planned to do, there was some discussion of the ethics of the situation. For example, somebody suggested these traps would be best left alone as representative of the history of the Arctic and of Alexandra Fjord. While there is merit in this argument, and in the related argument that they should be turned over to a museum, I felt the risk of their eventual re-use by some person at some point in the future (things decay slowly in the High Arctic) was too high, and I couldn't rely on a complete cultural change preventing any future return to the stupid cruelty and idiot economics that drove (and still drives, to some extent) the fur trade.
Monday, March 05, 2012
Monday Rant: UPS
About a week ago, I bought a new computer from a company in Calgary. They shipped it almost to me by UPS. UPS has never successfully delivered anything to me. Unlike other couriers, UPS company policies are all perverse when applied to residential delivery. They take as long to get an item off the truck and into a depot where it can be retrieved as they do to carry the item hundreds or thousands of kilometres. They only deliver during business hours, and the depot is open fewer hours in a week than an average bank. The website lies about the hours of the depot, which is located far away from anything in an industrial zone in Saskatoon.
The computer I bought arrived Friday, while I was not at home (of course). They gave it to my neighbour, a person I've never met. She hasn't been home since Friday, apparently, and still has it. I'm not worried about her, but it's annoying that UPS let her sign for it. I called and filed a complaint, which was less than satisfactory; the computer voice that speaks to me before I can talk to a real person informed me I can request the second attempt at delivery be with a neighbour. But in the follow-up call from the local depot I was informed it was company policy to ask a neighbour to accept the package, even on the first delivery attempt.
I don't actually care what UPS corporate policy is, I don't expect them to change at all because of my experiences. I want the ability to specify DO NOT SEND UPS when I buy something on-line - I will gladly pay more (and wait longer) for a different carrier. I've received packages carried by Fedex, Canada Post, Purolator, and DHL, and never had the kinds of problems I've had with UPS.
The computer I bought arrived Friday, while I was not at home (of course). They gave it to my neighbour, a person I've never met. She hasn't been home since Friday, apparently, and still has it. I'm not worried about her, but it's annoying that UPS let her sign for it. I called and filed a complaint, which was less than satisfactory; the computer voice that speaks to me before I can talk to a real person informed me I can request the second attempt at delivery be with a neighbour. But in the follow-up call from the local depot I was informed it was company policy to ask a neighbour to accept the package, even on the first delivery attempt.
I don't actually care what UPS corporate policy is, I don't expect them to change at all because of my experiences. I want the ability to specify DO NOT SEND UPS when I buy something on-line - I will gladly pay more (and wait longer) for a different carrier. I've received packages carried by Fedex, Canada Post, Purolator, and DHL, and never had the kinds of problems I've had with UPS.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
ZOMG
OK, it's been more than 7 months, and for that I apologize. It's likely the majority of my posts around here will start with an apology like that, but them's the breaks.
Anyways, just a quick note to say "still alive". Not sure why I'm writing right now, I just felt like writing I think. Which is odd, considering how much writing / rewriting / analyzing / reanalyzing / proofreading / editing / designing / et cetera on my computer at school I've been doing for the past... say... 7 months or so.
News, I suppose, is in order.
1. Not going North this summer, which is sad. Everything was lining up nicely for me to spend an excessive amount of time at Resolute Bay, but funding fell through at the final hurdle.
2. On the other hand, this does give me time to get some serious lab work and data generation done here in Saskatoon. Back to the molecular grind, in other words - which I'm actually looking forward to, I've been telling people "yes, I do PCR" but in that uncertain, hypothetical sense that I'm sure came through in my tone of voice and body language. It's one thing to say "I do PCR", it's another to say "I'm running a PCR right now, stop bugging me this damn pipetting robot is trying to kick-start the inevitable robot uprising again and I'm a little busy suppressing several of the metal ones".
3. I have been on many Sunday Drives since my last post, and I have not improved noticeably in my ability to edit & upload the photographs (and rare video) in anything like a timely fashion. However, I have taken steps that I feel are starting to address this imbalance.
3.1. I have purchased a "pro" Flickr account, visible here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/49837331@N06/ Link for those whose browsers don't like that URL.
3.2. I have purchased Lightroom 3.3, for about $100 using the 'education' discount. I will argue that my educational position fully qualifies me for discounts on photo-editing and photo-management software - a handful of my photos have been published by University publications!
4. I guess I should follow up that last point - back in the fall, a person whose job description includes publicity things for the Faculty of Agriculture and Bioresources approached me about having photos from the 2010 field season in the High Arctic. I did indeed, I put some together and sent them to her, and a few showed up in an article about our work in the University's internal newspaper - uncredited, of course. Oh well. Minor additional upside: she also shoots a Pentax, so there's a possibility for further gear-geekery in future.
5. More driving: I joined the Saskatoon Sports Car Club, and was nearly immediately elected to the exective (with only 17 active members, pretty much everybody has to take turns as director at large, or president, or treasurer, sooner or later). We've got about 18 autocross events planned between the end of May and the beginning of September, and I'm planning to get to every event that I'm in town for (and that my car is up for). New tires are in order, anyways.
6. Good news on the funding / scholarship side of things, but it hasn't been officially announced yet so I can't talk about it. It's very good news, though, and I am pleasantly surprised. Also, somebody done screwed up, 'cuz I sure don't deserve it.
7. Plenty of other things are in the works for the coming year. No promises, but I plan to avoid neglecting this place for quite so long an interval.
One of the reasons I like Flickr is because it supposedly streamlines linking pictures to a blog, as I will now attempt to demonstrate.
Yes, my Flickr username is "Execudork". I chose that name long before I considered the possibility that one day I'd have to spell it out over the phone to my mother. Could have been worse, I suppose. Thanks, Internet!
Anyways, just a quick note to say "still alive". Not sure why I'm writing right now, I just felt like writing I think. Which is odd, considering how much writing / rewriting / analyzing / reanalyzing / proofreading / editing / designing / et cetera on my computer at school I've been doing for the past... say... 7 months or so.
News, I suppose, is in order.
1. Not going North this summer, which is sad. Everything was lining up nicely for me to spend an excessive amount of time at Resolute Bay, but funding fell through at the final hurdle.
2. On the other hand, this does give me time to get some serious lab work and data generation done here in Saskatoon. Back to the molecular grind, in other words - which I'm actually looking forward to, I've been telling people "yes, I do PCR" but in that uncertain, hypothetical sense that I'm sure came through in my tone of voice and body language. It's one thing to say "I do PCR", it's another to say "I'm running a PCR right now, stop bugging me this damn pipetting robot is trying to kick-start the inevitable robot uprising again and I'm a little busy suppressing several of the metal ones".
3. I have been on many Sunday Drives since my last post, and I have not improved noticeably in my ability to edit & upload the photographs (and rare video) in anything like a timely fashion. However, I have taken steps that I feel are starting to address this imbalance.
3.1. I have purchased a "pro" Flickr account, visible here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/49837331@N06/ Link for those whose browsers don't like that URL.
3.2. I have purchased Lightroom 3.3, for about $100 using the 'education' discount. I will argue that my educational position fully qualifies me for discounts on photo-editing and photo-management software - a handful of my photos have been published by University publications!
4. I guess I should follow up that last point - back in the fall, a person whose job description includes publicity things for the Faculty of Agriculture and Bioresources approached me about having photos from the 2010 field season in the High Arctic. I did indeed, I put some together and sent them to her, and a few showed up in an article about our work in the University's internal newspaper - uncredited, of course. Oh well. Minor additional upside: she also shoots a Pentax, so there's a possibility for further gear-geekery in future.
5. More driving: I joined the Saskatoon Sports Car Club, and was nearly immediately elected to the exective (with only 17 active members, pretty much everybody has to take turns as director at large, or president, or treasurer, sooner or later). We've got about 18 autocross events planned between the end of May and the beginning of September, and I'm planning to get to every event that I'm in town for (and that my car is up for). New tires are in order, anyways.
6. Good news on the funding / scholarship side of things, but it hasn't been officially announced yet so I can't talk about it. It's very good news, though, and I am pleasantly surprised. Also, somebody done screwed up, 'cuz I sure don't deserve it.
7. Plenty of other things are in the works for the coming year. No promises, but I plan to avoid neglecting this place for quite so long an interval.
One of the reasons I like Flickr is because it supposedly streamlines linking pictures to a blog, as I will now attempt to demonstrate.
Yes, my Flickr username is "Execudork". I chose that name long before I considered the possibility that one day I'd have to spell it out over the phone to my mother. Could have been worse, I suppose. Thanks, Internet!
Sunday, April 04, 2010
Sunday Drive 10: Back to Saskatoon & Spreading the Meme
Saturday, January 10, 2010
I didn't keep very careful track of kilometre-age on my way back to Saskatoon from Calgary, nor was it a particularly interesting voyage – essentially nothing happened. If you don't count the near-miss I had when trying to pass. I saw a vehicle in the left (oncoming) lane far ahead of me, but because it was not showing any lights, I (foolishly) assumed it was the back end of a vehicle also travelling my way, also passing slower traffic. I was incorrect; it was the front of an oncoming pickup truck, one built before daytime running lights were mandated in Canada. My Prelude also predates that legislation, but I run with my headlights on when on 2-lane highways (and most other times, too).
Note the lack of danger, excitment, or anything at all interesting.
Rather than put up a tiny little post and call it a Sunday Drive, I thought I'd try to spread the meme a little. Despite my rather pathetic update schedule (or distinct lack thereof), I'm pretty sure I still have a few readers from various far-flung places. Of course, I could be delusional in this respect.
Most of my Sunday Drives take me on loops into the countryside with total drive-lengths of a few hundred kilometres. Since driving straight back on the same road I went out on is more boring than finding a different route, I tend to stray no further than about 150 km from my home in Saskatoon, as the proverbial corvid flies (NB: around here, the corvid in question is more likely a Magpie (Pica hudsonia) or a Raven (Corvus corax) than a common crow (Corvus brachyrhynchos)).
So, taking a few other locations that I think some of my readers may call home, let's see if I can spot any places I'd visit on a Sunday Drive were I in that part of the world. Maps are from Google Maps, using the "Terrain" option.
Rockville, Maryland.
Well, this is pretty obvious, I think. Rockville is very close to Washington, D.C., where there are of course a large number of world-famous places to visit. I probably wouldn't want to drive to most of them, though, given the reputation for traffic jams and parking difficulties that Washington has. Sunday Subway, then.
But, more suitable for automobile travel are a large number of places outside of Washington. There must be some great beaches along Chesapeake bay, and I've long wanted to see that storied body of water in person. The western foothills of the central Appalachians are nearby in the opposite direction, and I'm a fan of a couple of TV shows set in Baltimore; it would be interesting to drive through the harbour area with a couple of screen shots of the second season of The Wire in hand, for example. And there surely are old American civil war battlefields around, so one could visit a re-enactment on the appropriate date.
London, Ontario.
I have relatives who live in or fairly near London, so of course if it was me, I could visit them. Of perhaps more general interest, I know there are some excellent vinyards and wineries nearby; I've been on two wine tours in my life (Okanogan Valley, BC, and Niagara Peninsula, ON), both times were great fun. There are also the shores of the great lakes Erie and Huron, plus the smaller-only-in-a-relative-sense Lake St. Clair. Some interesting Canadian history happened in this part of the country, and I expect there are a number of Provincial Parks and the like not too far away, as well. Also: the only Pilot Truck Stop in Canada is on the outskirts of Tilbury. Pilot are the best truck stops.
Coquitlam, British Columbia
Again, the list of obvious places to go is very long. Hope, at the point where the Fraser river spreads onto its floodplain from the mountain gorges, is only 134 km from Coquitlam. And I know from living in Burnaby that there are a large number of dirt and gravel roads among the hills and valleys lining both sides of that floodplain. A vehicle with better ground clearance might be a better choice in that environment than my Prelude. On the other hand, the Mission Speedway allows owners of sports cars (and wanna-be sports cars) to drive on a real racetrack (not just a boring oval) for a fee. But for no-fee just driving around, pretty much the entire Fraser valley is accessible even to an econobox.
Austin, Texas
There's a place called "Bee Cave" very close to Austin, plus a place called "Nameless" (it doesn't show up on the map at this scale, but Nameless is on Nameless Road! It would be worth the expenses to get vanity plates "NONE" and then get a speeding ticket on Nameless Road). Need I say more? Well, I will anyways. There are hills, lakes, creeks, and forests nearby, as well as a number of small towns that probably have The World's X-est Y in them. In my travels through the southeastern states, I found many interesting things in the triangles of land between portions of the Interstate network - and the way home can be express, because of those interstate highways. I'd be very surprised if central Texas was different in this regard.
Geelong, Victoria, Australia
Yes, I know somebody in Geelong now, and yes I know this person has read and commented on this blog within the past year. So it counts.
The Great Ocean Road starts in Torquay, just south of Geelong. This is one of the World's Great Roads, and is reason alone in and of itself to visit the island continent. The fact that a Nissan Skyline can be purchased in Australia without onerous import restrictions and modifications is a significant bonus; heck, the R32 is now approaching 20 years old, one shouldn't be terribly expensive. New lifetime goal: I want to drive the Great Ocean Road in an R32, R33, or R34 GTR.
Plus, the zillion other things to see in southern Australia. From the coast to the desert is only about 100 kilometres, from my estimations - prove me wrong!
I didn't keep very careful track of kilometre-age on my way back to Saskatoon from Calgary, nor was it a particularly interesting voyage – essentially nothing happened. If you don't count the near-miss I had when trying to pass. I saw a vehicle in the left (oncoming) lane far ahead of me, but because it was not showing any lights, I (foolishly) assumed it was the back end of a vehicle also travelling my way, also passing slower traffic. I was incorrect; it was the front of an oncoming pickup truck, one built before daytime running lights were mandated in Canada. My Prelude also predates that legislation, but I run with my headlights on when on 2-lane highways (and most other times, too).
Note the lack of danger, excitment, or anything at all interesting.Rather than put up a tiny little post and call it a Sunday Drive, I thought I'd try to spread the meme a little. Despite my rather pathetic update schedule (or distinct lack thereof), I'm pretty sure I still have a few readers from various far-flung places. Of course, I could be delusional in this respect.
Most of my Sunday Drives take me on loops into the countryside with total drive-lengths of a few hundred kilometres. Since driving straight back on the same road I went out on is more boring than finding a different route, I tend to stray no further than about 150 km from my home in Saskatoon, as the proverbial corvid flies (NB: around here, the corvid in question is more likely a Magpie (Pica hudsonia) or a Raven (Corvus corax) than a common crow (Corvus brachyrhynchos)).
So, taking a few other locations that I think some of my readers may call home, let's see if I can spot any places I'd visit on a Sunday Drive were I in that part of the world. Maps are from Google Maps, using the "Terrain" option.
Rockville, Maryland.
Well, this is pretty obvious, I think. Rockville is very close to Washington, D.C., where there are of course a large number of world-famous places to visit. I probably wouldn't want to drive to most of them, though, given the reputation for traffic jams and parking difficulties that Washington has. Sunday Subway, then. But, more suitable for automobile travel are a large number of places outside of Washington. There must be some great beaches along Chesapeake bay, and I've long wanted to see that storied body of water in person. The western foothills of the central Appalachians are nearby in the opposite direction, and I'm a fan of a couple of TV shows set in Baltimore; it would be interesting to drive through the harbour area with a couple of screen shots of the second season of The Wire in hand, for example. And there surely are old American civil war battlefields around, so one could visit a re-enactment on the appropriate date.
London, Ontario.
I have relatives who live in or fairly near London, so of course if it was me, I could visit them. Of perhaps more general interest, I know there are some excellent vinyards and wineries nearby; I've been on two wine tours in my life (Okanogan Valley, BC, and Niagara Peninsula, ON), both times were great fun. There are also the shores of the great lakes Erie and Huron, plus the smaller-only-in-a-relative-sense Lake St. Clair. Some interesting Canadian history happened in this part of the country, and I expect there are a number of Provincial Parks and the like not too far away, as well. Also: the only Pilot Truck Stop in Canada is on the outskirts of Tilbury. Pilot are the best truck stops.Coquitlam, British Columbia
Again, the list of obvious places to go is very long. Hope, at the point where the Fraser river spreads onto its floodplain from the mountain gorges, is only 134 km from Coquitlam. And I know from living in Burnaby that there are a large number of dirt and gravel roads among the hills and valleys lining both sides of that floodplain. A vehicle with better ground clearance might be a better choice in that environment than my Prelude. On the other hand, the Mission Speedway allows owners of sports cars (and wanna-be sports cars) to drive on a real racetrack (not just a boring oval) for a fee. But for no-fee just driving around, pretty much the entire Fraser valley is accessible even to an econobox.Austin, Texas
There's a place called "Bee Cave" very close to Austin, plus a place called "Nameless" (it doesn't show up on the map at this scale, but Nameless is on Nameless Road! It would be worth the expenses to get vanity plates "NONE" and then get a speeding ticket on Nameless Road). Need I say more? Well, I will anyways. There are hills, lakes, creeks, and forests nearby, as well as a number of small towns that probably have The World's X-est Y in them. In my travels through the southeastern states, I found many interesting things in the triangles of land between portions of the Interstate network - and the way home can be express, because of those interstate highways. I'd be very surprised if central Texas was different in this regard.Geelong, Victoria, Australia
Yes, I know somebody in Geelong now, and yes I know this person has read and commented on this blog within the past year. So it counts.The Great Ocean Road starts in Torquay, just south of Geelong. This is one of the World's Great Roads, and is reason alone in and of itself to visit the island continent. The fact that a Nissan Skyline can be purchased in Australia without onerous import restrictions and modifications is a significant bonus; heck, the R32 is now approaching 20 years old, one shouldn't be terribly expensive. New lifetime goal: I want to drive the Great Ocean Road in an R32, R33, or R34 GTR.
Plus, the zillion other things to see in southern Australia. From the coast to the desert is only about 100 kilometres, from my estimations - prove me wrong!
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Parka
Today I recieved, after a wait of about 3 weeks, my new Canada Goose parka, style "Expedition". This is the same parka issued to United States Antarctic Program personnel, and beloved of cold-weather travellers everywhere. Normally they retail for about $600, assuming one in the correct size and colour can be found in a store - stores often seem to carry only a handful of individual parkas - but I bought mine on an eBay store for about $350. Weirdly enough, these parkas are manufactured in Canada (as befits the name) but I bought mine from a fishing store in the United Kingdom. The reason it took so long to get to me is it had to cross the Atlantic; I gather the store was able to purchase a lot of these (literally one lot, rather than the vague "a large number") at some very low cost.The annoying thing now is the weather. It's too freaking warm! Since I ordered this parka, we here in Saskatoon have had exactly 1 day colder than -20; Monday morning was -24. But it warmed up by Monday afternoon to about -10. This parka is too heavily insulated, too extravagantly down-filled and fur-trimmed (coyote fur) to be worn in anything but the most frigid Arctic-front kind of weather.
Look at this. According to the CBC, Saskatoon is sitting at -9. And look at the rest of the week! Highs of zero! It's late February! Why am I not watching the tip of my nose freeze, die, and get blown away by the harsh North Wind?
Monday, February 15, 2010
New Computer
I bought a new computer! My old home computer, an Acer 2200 Travelmate that I originally purchased in early 2004, finally succumbed to the onslaught of really nasty viruses. I picked up the third “rogue antivirus” in three months last week, an obnoxious beast calling itself “Antivirus Soft” that combined with Microsoft Windows Update in an unholy union that completely disabled the computer – it can no longer boot at all.
Anyways, in looking into the cost of professional attention for my computer, I discovered the price of laptops has dropped precipitously in the last few years. There’s a computer store not far from my home, a branch of Computer Trends, that offers repair services and sells new and factory-refurbished computers. I went down there on Thursday (they’re open until 8:00, happily) and dropped off the old machine. Complete virus removal and clean-up costs upwards of $150, but just pulling data off of an otherwise inaccessible hard drive costs between $40 and $60; they’ll drop what they can recover onto a DVD, but won’t go through the trouble of actually bringing the machine up to workable condition. I figured I’d just buy a new computer, and put what files I want from the old machine onto the new one and reformat the hard drive of the old computer. I don't know what I'll do with the old computer once I get clean and working.
So, the new beast is home. It cost only $400, which is amazing to me. From googling for reviews of this thing before I bought it, it seems like this machine was cutting edge about a year ago, and considered highly desirable about 6 or 8 months ago. Mine is a factory-refurbished individual, which is fine by me – I don’t need the newest game monster, but I would like to play some games newer than, say, 2004.
The new machine. An Acer Aspire 5532, with a 1.6GHz Athlon 64 TF-20 processor. I think processor numbers have become nearly meaningless in the last couple of years – my old computer was supposedly something like 2.0GHz, but this machine is much faster when it comes to actually doing things.
My choices were pretty good at the under-$600 range, but I went with this one partly because it was the cheapest (there were several attractive machines at around $500) and partly because it has Windows 7 and NOT Windows Vista. The salesman initially tried to convince me that Vista is a fine program and does not deserve its reputation (that reputation is: it’s complete crap); I was unconvinced. So far, Windows 7 is fine, and I was able to quickly turn off the Vista-style paranoid nanny-nagging fairly easily.
After messing about with it for a couple of days, I decided I wanted a new game. So I bought The Orange Box.
I put the “system requirements” sticker on the front of the box because it seems useful and was holding the case closed.
I played Half Life on my Playstation 2 a few years ago, on loan from Carlo. I know The Orange Box was a big deal because it includes Half Life 2: Episode 2, which was anticipated with near-feverish excitement when it was released (plus the sleeper-hit Portal). But, I’ve never played Half Life 2, nor either of the sequels, but all are included in this box! Five games for $30, not bad at all! I’m well into Half Life 2, and enjoying it greatly.
The one flaw with this computer I’ve detected so far is the shortage of USB ports. I bought a powered hub so I can simultaneously use an external hard drive (which require two USB ports because of power demands) and my proper mouse; I am not a fan of the touchpads on laptops.
Further contribution to the rat’s-nest of cables on my kitchen table.
Anyways, in looking into the cost of professional attention for my computer, I discovered the price of laptops has dropped precipitously in the last few years. There’s a computer store not far from my home, a branch of Computer Trends, that offers repair services and sells new and factory-refurbished computers. I went down there on Thursday (they’re open until 8:00, happily) and dropped off the old machine. Complete virus removal and clean-up costs upwards of $150, but just pulling data off of an otherwise inaccessible hard drive costs between $40 and $60; they’ll drop what they can recover onto a DVD, but won’t go through the trouble of actually bringing the machine up to workable condition. I figured I’d just buy a new computer, and put what files I want from the old machine onto the new one and reformat the hard drive of the old computer. I don't know what I'll do with the old computer once I get clean and working.
So, the new beast is home. It cost only $400, which is amazing to me. From googling for reviews of this thing before I bought it, it seems like this machine was cutting edge about a year ago, and considered highly desirable about 6 or 8 months ago. Mine is a factory-refurbished individual, which is fine by me – I don’t need the newest game monster, but I would like to play some games newer than, say, 2004.
The new machine. An Acer Aspire 5532, with a 1.6GHz Athlon 64 TF-20 processor. I think processor numbers have become nearly meaningless in the last couple of years – my old computer was supposedly something like 2.0GHz, but this machine is much faster when it comes to actually doing things.My choices were pretty good at the under-$600 range, but I went with this one partly because it was the cheapest (there were several attractive machines at around $500) and partly because it has Windows 7 and NOT Windows Vista. The salesman initially tried to convince me that Vista is a fine program and does not deserve its reputation (that reputation is: it’s complete crap); I was unconvinced. So far, Windows 7 is fine, and I was able to quickly turn off the Vista-style paranoid nanny-nagging fairly easily.
After messing about with it for a couple of days, I decided I wanted a new game. So I bought The Orange Box.
I put the “system requirements” sticker on the front of the box because it seems useful and was holding the case closed.I played Half Life on my Playstation 2 a few years ago, on loan from Carlo. I know The Orange Box was a big deal because it includes Half Life 2: Episode 2, which was anticipated with near-feverish excitement when it was released (plus the sleeper-hit Portal). But, I’ve never played Half Life 2, nor either of the sequels, but all are included in this box! Five games for $30, not bad at all! I’m well into Half Life 2, and enjoying it greatly.
The one flaw with this computer I’ve detected so far is the shortage of USB ports. I bought a powered hub so I can simultaneously use an external hard drive (which require two USB ports because of power demands) and my proper mouse; I am not a fan of the touchpads on laptops.
Further contribution to the rat’s-nest of cables on my kitchen table.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
A visit from the Canadian Coast Guard
Yesterday morning, before setting out on a long day-hike, we were unexpectedly visited by the Canadian Coast Guard, in the form of the helicopter from CCGS Henry Larson, an icebreaker currently conducting research on sea-ice and other marine matters in the High Arctic.
The helicopter shortly after touchdown. These CCG helicopters seem more powerful than the Bell 204L operated by PCSP; at least its downdraft was more disruptive.
I had to help Katherine with her injections, so rather than stick around to chat with the people from the Coast Guard, I headed out. They were loading some equipment and packages into the helicopter, a pile of gear dropped off here at Alex Fjord a couple of weeks ago.
When I returned about half an hour later I expected the helicopter to be gone, and I was lamenting the poor timing that stole my opportunity to schmooze some government employees. Nearly everybody I’ve met likes to talk about their jobs, and life on an icebreaker sounds interesting.
However, while I’d seen the chopper leave, it had left behind 3 people, and would be returning soon. I grasped the situation before I talked to these people, so I opened the conversation with some sympathy for their position – I know how utterly boring it is to wait for a helicopter.
One of the people waiting was Michelle, a scientist studying multi-year sea-ice in the eastern Arctic. She was happy talk about her job, and give me names and contact information for people in the Coast Guard or Department of Fisheries and Oceans (DFO) who I could talk to about conducting research from such a ship. That would be highly cool. One positive little factoid she told me about was the busy season for scientific spaces on Canadian icebreakers. Not surprisingly, most scientists with projects that would benefit from the facilities of an icebreaker work in the summer; I do too. However, the ships generally return to their southern bases (St. John’s, in the case of CCGS Henry Larson) in late October, allowing several weeks of time in the High Arctic in the autumn. One avenue my upcoming PhD research might pursue is an examination of soil gas flux during freeze-up, which occurs between late August and the end of September at different latitudes in the Arctic. I can easily imagine a schedule of working full days or a few days in a row at a series of Arctic soil sites accessed by helicopter from an icebreaker. Perhaps a few weeks cruising down through the Archipelago? This is very appealing to me, not least because such ships have a number of other valuable resources besides the chopper – things like showers, lab space, a reliable electricity supply, and other scientists to discuss projects and experiments with.
After my wonderful conversation with Michelle, the helicopter returned to retrieve her and her shipmates. The ship itself was lurking out in the mouth of Buchanan bay, hidden from our view by the rocky headland to our east.
CCG Helicopter take off
My companions, except Katherine, and I quickly set out on our big day-hike shortly after Michelle’s departure. We crossed both rivers to the east of camp, and climbed up to the top of the lower hill that forms part of the barrier of the valley to the east. From the top we could see the ship maneuvering near the mouth of Buchanan bay.
Erin modelling some men’s-size-12 chest waders before crossing the larger and more distant river.
The view from part-way up, looking back towards camp.
The view to the east from the saddle at the top of the first slope. Greenland is barely visible as a shadow on the horizon when viewed through binoculars.
CCGS Henry Larson steaming into Buchanan bay. Skraeling island and Little Skraeling island are visible at the bottom of the frame.
A cropped photo taken through my binoculars. I was told by one of Michelle’s shipmates that CCGS Henry Larson is 337 feet long. I think the bridge is 4 stories above the forward deck, to give an idea of the size of this vessel.
CCGS Henry Larson steaming into Alexandra Fjord, viewed from the hilltop at about 250m altitude. I think they rammed through that isolated iceberg just because they could. I’d asked about the amount of ice breaking the icebreaker had been doing, and was told they had been crunching through quite a bit of ice already. The sound reached us clearly at our vantage point.
A view of the ship from a few hours later, after we’d ascended partway up the north face of the eastern ridge. They apparently decided to park in the fjord for a while.
We continued our hike and lost sight of the ship, and did not hear the helicopter flying around. When Michelle and her shipmates were picked up I briefly talked with the helicopter pilot, who asked me (jokingly, I thought) if there was anything we needed that he could bring us. I said something about not having had a banana in a while (this is true: the last banana I saw came from the BAS visit), but otherwise thought nothing of it – we really are in need of nothing at base camp.
When we returned from our long day hike, Katherine related a story to us. She’d seen the ship come into the fjord, of course, and watched the helicopter buzz around and a zodiac zip up and down the fjord. I think one of the scientists on board is studying tides, and there’s a buoy of some kind with a data logger, or something. Anyways, she was working inside the lab and heard the helicopter land, and waited for the engine to shut down, signalling the arrival of more visitors. The (very loud) engine kept running, so she went outside to investigate. The crew of the chopper waved her closer – they had landed very close to the buildings anyways – then pointed to some boxes they’d dropped off from the chopper, a gift for us.
The gift was about 50 pounds of various fresh fruits and vegetables. I was kind of expecting a handful of bananas, but we got much, much more than that.
One half-emptied box of food from the Canadian Coast Guard.
Another box of fruit.
They gave us bananas, apples, pears, plums, nectarines, raspberries, blackberries, honeydew melons, oranges, kiwis, tomatoes, and cucumbers, enough to feed the 6 of us on a strict frugivore diet for days, plus a litre of coffee cream, 2 big cardboard flats of single-serve yogurt, and some cheese. All of this was delivered by helicopter in a single-purpose trip from the ship.
Thank you!
The helicopter shortly after touchdown. These CCG helicopters seem more powerful than the Bell 204L operated by PCSP; at least its downdraft was more disruptive.I had to help Katherine with her injections, so rather than stick around to chat with the people from the Coast Guard, I headed out. They were loading some equipment and packages into the helicopter, a pile of gear dropped off here at Alex Fjord a couple of weeks ago.
When I returned about half an hour later I expected the helicopter to be gone, and I was lamenting the poor timing that stole my opportunity to schmooze some government employees. Nearly everybody I’ve met likes to talk about their jobs, and life on an icebreaker sounds interesting.
However, while I’d seen the chopper leave, it had left behind 3 people, and would be returning soon. I grasped the situation before I talked to these people, so I opened the conversation with some sympathy for their position – I know how utterly boring it is to wait for a helicopter.
One of the people waiting was Michelle, a scientist studying multi-year sea-ice in the eastern Arctic. She was happy talk about her job, and give me names and contact information for people in the Coast Guard or Department of Fisheries and Oceans (DFO) who I could talk to about conducting research from such a ship. That would be highly cool. One positive little factoid she told me about was the busy season for scientific spaces on Canadian icebreakers. Not surprisingly, most scientists with projects that would benefit from the facilities of an icebreaker work in the summer; I do too. However, the ships generally return to their southern bases (St. John’s, in the case of CCGS Henry Larson) in late October, allowing several weeks of time in the High Arctic in the autumn. One avenue my upcoming PhD research might pursue is an examination of soil gas flux during freeze-up, which occurs between late August and the end of September at different latitudes in the Arctic. I can easily imagine a schedule of working full days or a few days in a row at a series of Arctic soil sites accessed by helicopter from an icebreaker. Perhaps a few weeks cruising down through the Archipelago? This is very appealing to me, not least because such ships have a number of other valuable resources besides the chopper – things like showers, lab space, a reliable electricity supply, and other scientists to discuss projects and experiments with.
After my wonderful conversation with Michelle, the helicopter returned to retrieve her and her shipmates. The ship itself was lurking out in the mouth of Buchanan bay, hidden from our view by the rocky headland to our east.
CCG Helicopter take off
My companions, except Katherine, and I quickly set out on our big day-hike shortly after Michelle’s departure. We crossed both rivers to the east of camp, and climbed up to the top of the lower hill that forms part of the barrier of the valley to the east. From the top we could see the ship maneuvering near the mouth of Buchanan bay.
Erin modelling some men’s-size-12 chest waders before crossing the larger and more distant river.
The view from part-way up, looking back towards camp.
The view to the east from the saddle at the top of the first slope. Greenland is barely visible as a shadow on the horizon when viewed through binoculars.
CCGS Henry Larson steaming into Buchanan bay. Skraeling island and Little Skraeling island are visible at the bottom of the frame.
A cropped photo taken through my binoculars. I was told by one of Michelle’s shipmates that CCGS Henry Larson is 337 feet long. I think the bridge is 4 stories above the forward deck, to give an idea of the size of this vessel.
CCGS Henry Larson steaming into Alexandra Fjord, viewed from the hilltop at about 250m altitude. I think they rammed through that isolated iceberg just because they could. I’d asked about the amount of ice breaking the icebreaker had been doing, and was told they had been crunching through quite a bit of ice already. The sound reached us clearly at our vantage point.
A view of the ship from a few hours later, after we’d ascended partway up the north face of the eastern ridge. They apparently decided to park in the fjord for a while.We continued our hike and lost sight of the ship, and did not hear the helicopter flying around. When Michelle and her shipmates were picked up I briefly talked with the helicopter pilot, who asked me (jokingly, I thought) if there was anything we needed that he could bring us. I said something about not having had a banana in a while (this is true: the last banana I saw came from the BAS visit), but otherwise thought nothing of it – we really are in need of nothing at base camp.
When we returned from our long day hike, Katherine related a story to us. She’d seen the ship come into the fjord, of course, and watched the helicopter buzz around and a zodiac zip up and down the fjord. I think one of the scientists on board is studying tides, and there’s a buoy of some kind with a data logger, or something. Anyways, she was working inside the lab and heard the helicopter land, and waited for the engine to shut down, signalling the arrival of more visitors. The (very loud) engine kept running, so she went outside to investigate. The crew of the chopper waved her closer – they had landed very close to the buildings anyways – then pointed to some boxes they’d dropped off from the chopper, a gift for us.
The gift was about 50 pounds of various fresh fruits and vegetables. I was kind of expecting a handful of bananas, but we got much, much more than that.
One half-emptied box of food from the Canadian Coast Guard.
Another box of fruit.They gave us bananas, apples, pears, plums, nectarines, raspberries, blackberries, honeydew melons, oranges, kiwis, tomatoes, and cucumbers, enough to feed the 6 of us on a strict frugivore diet for days, plus a litre of coffee cream, 2 big cardboard flats of single-serve yogurt, and some cheese. All of this was delivered by helicopter in a single-purpose trip from the ship.
Thank you!
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Monday Rant: Falcon Tube Racks
Here's an esoteric rant for you: I can't friggin' find a test-tube rack that holds either 15mL or 50mL Falcon tubes, and it's pissing me off because I know I'm not the only person in the world who would use such racks.
These are Falcon tubes:
The BD website describes these things as the "workhorse" of the Life Sciences lab... everybody I know uses hundreds of these things, for all sorts of purposes. They don't goddam fit in standard test-tube racks, because of those big, fat screw-on caps. Normal test-tube racks have the positions arranged in a square layout, with very thin barriers between the positions. The lids on these tubes overhang the edges of the positions, and two tubes next to each other squeeze against or on top of each other. It's annoying. Plus, the bigger size is apparently much larger than any other tube that people would be using more than one or two of at a time, so standard test-tube racks usually don't even have positions in them large enough to squeeze these guys into.
You can order these tubes in styrofoam racks, which adds a bit to the price when buying them, and because the tubes are disposable most of the time we don't bother - we just buy them in big bags, sans racks. The styrofoam racks tend to fall apart pretty quickly in any case, and some websites say "do not freeze in racks" without frickin' explaining why. Argh!
I've spent too much time today, in the blocks between the end of something and waiting for somebody else so I can move onto the next task, trying to track down a rack solution for our hundreds of Falcon tubes. The only thing I've found is a hideously expensive coated-wire rack that holds 8, 16, or 36 of these big tubes - for about $80 for the largest. At any given time, I've got between 200 and 500 Falcon tubes in use, distributed between a couple of freezers and whatever random patch of bench space I happen to be using. At the moment, all of my 50mL tubes are just jumbled together in the freezer, completely disorganized, and my 400 or so 15mL tubes are squeezed awkwardly into about a dozen unsuitable racks. It's annoying, I need a better system.
Why can't I buy a cheap plastic rack in hexagon arrangement that will fit in my freezer?
These are Falcon tubes:
The BD website describes these things as the "workhorse" of the Life Sciences lab... everybody I know uses hundreds of these things, for all sorts of purposes. They don't goddam fit in standard test-tube racks, because of those big, fat screw-on caps. Normal test-tube racks have the positions arranged in a square layout, with very thin barriers between the positions. The lids on these tubes overhang the edges of the positions, and two tubes next to each other squeeze against or on top of each other. It's annoying. Plus, the bigger size is apparently much larger than any other tube that people would be using more than one or two of at a time, so standard test-tube racks usually don't even have positions in them large enough to squeeze these guys into.You can order these tubes in styrofoam racks, which adds a bit to the price when buying them, and because the tubes are disposable most of the time we don't bother - we just buy them in big bags, sans racks. The styrofoam racks tend to fall apart pretty quickly in any case, and some websites say "do not freeze in racks" without frickin' explaining why. Argh!
I've spent too much time today, in the blocks between the end of something and waiting for somebody else so I can move onto the next task, trying to track down a rack solution for our hundreds of Falcon tubes. The only thing I've found is a hideously expensive coated-wire rack that holds 8, 16, or 36 of these big tubes - for about $80 for the largest. At any given time, I've got between 200 and 500 Falcon tubes in use, distributed between a couple of freezers and whatever random patch of bench space I happen to be using. At the moment, all of my 50mL tubes are just jumbled together in the freezer, completely disorganized, and my 400 or so 15mL tubes are squeezed awkwardly into about a dozen unsuitable racks. It's annoying, I need a better system.
Why can't I buy a cheap plastic rack in hexagon arrangement that will fit in my freezer?
Monday, October 12, 2009
1988 Honda Prelude 2.0Si
I bought a car, Honda Prelude that’s more than 20 years old. Why would I do such a thing?
Of course it started snowing right after I bought the car. Fortunately, those are winter tires already in place.
I missed owning a car. I like to tell people that I miss my old van, but I don’t miss paying for it. That car was a financial disaster, a money pit that sucked my wallet dry. I don’t intend to repeat the experience. My personal financial situation has improved since then, for one, but more importantly, I won’t allow this car to take quite so much of my money.
The purchase price was $1300, and insurance for a year is a bit less than $700; SGI never got the memo about my clean driving record, so my insurance rates will go down a bit once I sort out that paperwork. The car has a 5-speed manual transmission, which I’m enjoying more than I expected to. I’ve always driven automatics before, but I was taught how to drive a stick long ago, and while I’m not good at it, I can do it without too much embarrassment. So far, I’ve stalled it twice, once on Saturday after I bought it, and once on Sunday just driving in traffic. I expect to get much better at this basic skill in short order.
I don’t intend to drive to work, I walk as it is and it takes me between 20 and 25 minutes, even when it’s -30C. We’ll see how dedicated I am to this non-automotive-commute concept I am this winter, but parking is fairly obnoxious and expensive at the University of Saskatchewan. My across-the-hall neighbour also works on campus, but I doubt I’ll carpool with him unless I get really lazy and wussy in winter.
This car is for fun and adventure. I wanted a car that was different, and not about the practicality. There aren’t many 3rd-generation Preludes around, and I’m told especially not in this colour. The van was a purely practical vehicle; I had a lot of fun with it, but its primary purpose was to solve transport and logistics problems – 7 seatbelts or 2 cubic metres of mobile storage space are powerful options in many situations. This little car, however, is all about the drive, not what’s compressing the springs. It’s not precisely a sports car – on my budget, anything truly fitting that category is unattainable or undriveable – but it is a “sports compact coupe”, a low-slung 2-door with an engine just a bit bigger than it precisely needs to be, and suspension set up for taking corners a little quicker than is absolutely necessary.
There's a list of things I'd like to fix or improve about this car. It needs a good once-over by a professional mechanic, soon, but I alreadyknow it needs a cooling system flush, an oil change, and some work on the power steering system (there's a leak of fluid somewhere). The timing belt is famously a weak point in these cars, so I want that replaced in fairly short order, too. These are all jobs I could theoretically do myself, but I don't have a garage or many tools. Some things I will do myself include just generally tidying up the trim, both outside and inside. There are a few pieces of plastic that hang from the body or are not tightly screwed in place, for example. One job I can do myself, I think, is fixing the heater blower - currently, the fan only blows on the 3 and 4 settings, not on 1 or 2, and it's pretty noisy. I suspect it needs disassembly, cleaning, and a check of the electrical connections.
I’m going to take this car out for drives, as regularly as I can manage. I want to explore, especially in central Saskatchewan, where I live. I want to go camping, and just generally get out there and see what there is to see. This car will let me do that.
More pictures, just because.
I like flip-up headlights for no good reason.
Of course it started snowing right after I bought the car. Fortunately, those are winter tires already in place.I missed owning a car. I like to tell people that I miss my old van, but I don’t miss paying for it. That car was a financial disaster, a money pit that sucked my wallet dry. I don’t intend to repeat the experience. My personal financial situation has improved since then, for one, but more importantly, I won’t allow this car to take quite so much of my money.
The purchase price was $1300, and insurance for a year is a bit less than $700; SGI never got the memo about my clean driving record, so my insurance rates will go down a bit once I sort out that paperwork. The car has a 5-speed manual transmission, which I’m enjoying more than I expected to. I’ve always driven automatics before, but I was taught how to drive a stick long ago, and while I’m not good at it, I can do it without too much embarrassment. So far, I’ve stalled it twice, once on Saturday after I bought it, and once on Sunday just driving in traffic. I expect to get much better at this basic skill in short order.
I don’t intend to drive to work, I walk as it is and it takes me between 20 and 25 minutes, even when it’s -30C. We’ll see how dedicated I am to this non-automotive-commute concept I am this winter, but parking is fairly obnoxious and expensive at the University of Saskatchewan. My across-the-hall neighbour also works on campus, but I doubt I’ll carpool with him unless I get really lazy and wussy in winter.
This car is for fun and adventure. I wanted a car that was different, and not about the practicality. There aren’t many 3rd-generation Preludes around, and I’m told especially not in this colour. The van was a purely practical vehicle; I had a lot of fun with it, but its primary purpose was to solve transport and logistics problems – 7 seatbelts or 2 cubic metres of mobile storage space are powerful options in many situations. This little car, however, is all about the drive, not what’s compressing the springs. It’s not precisely a sports car – on my budget, anything truly fitting that category is unattainable or undriveable – but it is a “sports compact coupe”, a low-slung 2-door with an engine just a bit bigger than it precisely needs to be, and suspension set up for taking corners a little quicker than is absolutely necessary.
There's a list of things I'd like to fix or improve about this car. It needs a good once-over by a professional mechanic, soon, but I alreadyknow it needs a cooling system flush, an oil change, and some work on the power steering system (there's a leak of fluid somewhere). The timing belt is famously a weak point in these cars, so I want that replaced in fairly short order, too. These are all jobs I could theoretically do myself, but I don't have a garage or many tools. Some things I will do myself include just generally tidying up the trim, both outside and inside. There are a few pieces of plastic that hang from the body or are not tightly screwed in place, for example. One job I can do myself, I think, is fixing the heater blower - currently, the fan only blows on the 3 and 4 settings, not on 1 or 2, and it's pretty noisy. I suspect it needs disassembly, cleaning, and a check of the electrical connections.
I’m going to take this car out for drives, as regularly as I can manage. I want to explore, especially in central Saskatchewan, where I live. I want to go camping, and just generally get out there and see what there is to see. This car will let me do that.
More pictures, just because.
I like flip-up headlights for no good reason.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
British Antarctic Survey
090731
As I alluded to in a previous post, the British Antarctic Survey (BAS) decided to visit us here at Alexandra Fjord. They dropped out of the sky in their all-red Twin Otter about 3:30 in the afternoon, while I was bringing some supplies up to the kitchen from the food-storage shed.
Upon landing, I told them they were at the wrong pole – this is the Arctic, not the Antarctic. They explained they’d turned left when they should have turned right, and ended up here. A representative of the (Canadian) federal department of Indian and Northern Affairs told me about an agreement between Canada and the United Kingdom that has recently been signed, providing for much more cooperation between the two countries in polar research. My understanding is this opens the door for more British researchers to come to Canada’s High Arctic, and for more scientific collaboration between scientists in the two countries. All good things, in my opinion.
Included among our visitors was the director of the BAS. When he introduced himself I expressed my disbelief at his job title – but he did convince me that he was, in fact, the director of the entire British Antarctic Survey and was visiting various field camps in Canada’s Arctic. He therefore represents the most highly-placed and important government official (from my point of view) I have yet encountered in my travels.
I couldn’t let an opportunity like this fly off ungrasped, so I asked the director and another BAS official “How do I get to Antarctica?”. The answer, taking into account my situation (biologist by training, starting a PhD in Saskatchewan) is basically to a) monitor the BAS website and b) contact a few people affiliated with the BAS. Something to get started on this fall, methinks.
The visitors from the BAS and Canadian government returning to their airplane.
A zoomed shot of the BAS Twin Otter – note the incongruous word “Antarctic” on the fuselage.
The pilots for this British tour fly a bit closer to the edge than I’ve seen the Ken Borek employees fly, and buzzed our camp both arriving and departing. I took videos during their departure.
As I alluded to in a previous post, the British Antarctic Survey (BAS) decided to visit us here at Alexandra Fjord. They dropped out of the sky in their all-red Twin Otter about 3:30 in the afternoon, while I was bringing some supplies up to the kitchen from the food-storage shed.
Upon landing, I told them they were at the wrong pole – this is the Arctic, not the Antarctic. They explained they’d turned left when they should have turned right, and ended up here. A representative of the (Canadian) federal department of Indian and Northern Affairs told me about an agreement between Canada and the United Kingdom that has recently been signed, providing for much more cooperation between the two countries in polar research. My understanding is this opens the door for more British researchers to come to Canada’s High Arctic, and for more scientific collaboration between scientists in the two countries. All good things, in my opinion.
Included among our visitors was the director of the BAS. When he introduced himself I expressed my disbelief at his job title – but he did convince me that he was, in fact, the director of the entire British Antarctic Survey and was visiting various field camps in Canada’s Arctic. He therefore represents the most highly-placed and important government official (from my point of view) I have yet encountered in my travels.
I couldn’t let an opportunity like this fly off ungrasped, so I asked the director and another BAS official “How do I get to Antarctica?”. The answer, taking into account my situation (biologist by training, starting a PhD in Saskatchewan) is basically to a) monitor the BAS website and b) contact a few people affiliated with the BAS. Something to get started on this fall, methinks.
The visitors from the BAS and Canadian government returning to their airplane.
A zoomed shot of the BAS Twin Otter – note the incongruous word “Antarctic” on the fuselage.The pilots for this British tour fly a bit closer to the edge than I’ve seen the Ken Borek employees fly, and buzzed our camp both arriving and departing. I took videos during their departure.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Kite-flying
090715
Today, Katherine and I had a bit of spare time, and the wind was blowing strong and steady from the glaciers to our south, so I broke out my kite.
Pictures of me (red hoodie) by Katherine, pictures of Katherine by me.
Also, I took a picture of the view from the door of my tent.
Today, Katherine and I had a bit of spare time, and the wind was blowing strong and steady from the glaciers to our south, so I broke out my kite.
Pictures of me (red hoodie) by Katherine, pictures of Katherine by me.
Also, I took a picture of the view from the door of my tent.
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