Yesterday, Phoenix (the Mars polar explorer; the machine that found actual water ice on Mars, and that recently detected snow virga falling high above the Martian Arctic plains) fell silent.
The scientists were expecting it to happen sometime around now. As Martian Winter approaches, the sun (already only a fraction as strong as seen from Earth) is sinking lower in the sky, reducing the output of the craft's solar panels. Plus, a wind storm had sprinkled dust on the panels, further reducing their output. Two days ago, during the long, cold Martian night, temperatures dropped to -141F (-96C). The next morning, Phoenix failed to phone home.
To wring every last bit of data from the instruments, mission scientists had built in a "Lazarus Mode" to Phoenix: When things got this dire, it was to go into an ultra-low-power mode where it basically would bide its time and use whatever sunlight is available to try to recharge its drained and ice-cold batteries.
Once a day, for two hours, it would try to wake up, warm up a few essential instruments, take a few quick readings, and weakly squirt the data to the Mars Orbiter passing overhead. The Orbiter would take the faint signal, amplify it, and send it Earthward.
That's the theory. But Phoenix is a one-off, and in a place human instruments have never gone before. Would it work, or was the mission gone?
Yesterday, the safe mode worked and scientists got a brief data squirt from the dying lander high in the Martian Arctic.
But even the low-power mode will only work for a little while. It's only a matter of days, perhaps a few weeks at best, before Phoenix shuts down for good.
Interesting stuff:
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/10/31/science/space/31lander.html
http://phoenix.lpl.arizona.edu/
http://www.google.com/search?q=MARS+PHOENIX+LANDER
Friday, October 31, 2008
Thursday, October 30, 2008
If it's Thursday...
...there's a new "LangaList Plus" column posted at WindowsSecrets.Com. It covers:
1. How to troubleshoot XP SP3 problems (Don't tell PETA, but there's more than one way to skin the XP SP3 cat.)
2. Is Spybot the cause of a system slowdown?(New version of venerable software runs amok?)
3. Unauthorized, but often successful, heavy-duty fix for Flash Player update/install problems
4. Third-party solution for lack of Vista scanner drivers
You can use the "contact" info at the end of the column to send in questions you might like me to try answering. And you can also rate the content to let me know how I'm doing.
Yes, it's by subscription, but there's no set fee. You pay only what you think the content is worth; whatever you pay that one time gets you access for an entire year.
More info: https://windowssecrets.com/
Your support there helps me keep the lights lit here. :-)
1. How to troubleshoot XP SP3 problems (Don't tell PETA, but there's more than one way to skin the XP SP3 cat.)
2. Is Spybot the cause of a system slowdown?(New version of venerable software runs amok?)
3. Unauthorized, but often successful, heavy-duty fix for Flash Player update/install problems
4. Third-party solution for lack of Vista scanner drivers
You can use the "contact" info at the end of the column to send in questions you might like me to try answering. And you can also rate the content to let me know how I'm doing.
Yes, it's by subscription, but there's no set fee. You pay only what you think the content is worth; whatever you pay that one time gets you access for an entire year.
More info: https://windowssecrets.com/
Your support there helps me keep the lights lit here. :-)
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
If your light stays on for more than 4 hours...
... call your electrician.
(thanks to my neighbor Mike for sending this along)
(thanks to my neighbor Mike for sending this along)
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Experimenting with Blogger
We've seen several times how Blogger munges uploaded photos; most recently in yesterday's post.
Here's an exploration of the problem.
Let's start with a full-resolution photo; a 3072x2304 foliage photo I took on a hike to a local mountaintop. (Lots of Fall foliage, but about a week past peak color with the brilliant reds now shading to warm ambers and browns.) The photo was taken with a 7.1 mpx camera. I'll link you to the photo; check it out and then click back to here for the next one.
Full-res photo, externally hosted on Pbase.com:
http://upload.pbase.com/flanga/image/105123134/original.jpg
Note: your browser may scale the photo so you can see it all. Use the "enlarge" "see original" function to see the photo at full size.
Now, here's the EXACT SAME photo uploaded directly from my hard drive via the Blogger "add photo" interface:
Click on that 400x300 auto-thumbnail, and you'll see a larger version (1600x1200), but it's still way smaller than the original. Note that Blogger has also slightly altered the "aspect ratio" (the height-to-width proportion) of the photo. That's not ideal, but it's workable.
Blogger's "add photo" function also lets you add embed a photo from an external host, instead of uploading it directly from your hard drive.
I uploaded the same full-res photo to Photobucket, which is a sister service of Blogger. (They're both owned by Google.)
Using the Blogger "add photo" interface, here's what you get:
I'm guessing that when this post goes live, you'll see a truncated sliver of the left side of the photo. I can't really tell what you'll see because the above looks fine in Blogger's "preview" mode; the full image is shown. Past experience tells me not to trust the "preview" and that the image will be truncated when it goes live. A preview function that doesn't really let you see what the final post will look like is next to useless.
And remember, the SAME EXACT action--- uploading photos via the Blogger's "add photo" interface--- produced those very different results. That's bad interface design. The same action should not produce wildly different results.
Now: Let's see what Blogger does with a modestly-sized 1024x768 externally hosted version of the same photo:
How about an 800x600 version:
So, now we have an idea of Blogger's photo limitations.
Blogger's free, so it's silly to get worked up about its shortcomings. But it's good to know what those limitations are, so you can work around them.
Now that I understand how it's handling (and failing to handle) my photos, I can avoid the problems we've seen in several earlier posts. And if you use Blogger, maybe you can too!
Here's an exploration of the problem.
Let's start with a full-resolution photo; a 3072x2304 foliage photo I took on a hike to a local mountaintop. (Lots of Fall foliage, but about a week past peak color with the brilliant reds now shading to warm ambers and browns.) The photo was taken with a 7.1 mpx camera. I'll link you to the photo; check it out and then click back to here for the next one.
Full-res photo, externally hosted on Pbase.com:
http://upload.pbase.com/flanga/image/105123134/original.jpg
Note: your browser may scale the photo so you can see it all. Use the "enlarge" "see original" function to see the photo at full size.
Now, here's the EXACT SAME photo uploaded directly from my hard drive via the Blogger "add photo" interface:
Click on that 400x300 auto-thumbnail, and you'll see a larger version (1600x1200), but it's still way smaller than the original. Note that Blogger has also slightly altered the "aspect ratio" (the height-to-width proportion) of the photo. That's not ideal, but it's workable.
Blogger's "add photo" function also lets you add embed a photo from an external host, instead of uploading it directly from your hard drive.
I uploaded the same full-res photo to Photobucket, which is a sister service of Blogger. (They're both owned by Google.)
Using the Blogger "add photo" interface, here's what you get:
I'm guessing that when this post goes live, you'll see a truncated sliver of the left side of the photo. I can't really tell what you'll see because the above looks fine in Blogger's "preview" mode; the full image is shown. Past experience tells me not to trust the "preview" and that the image will be truncated when it goes live. A preview function that doesn't really let you see what the final post will look like is next to useless.
And remember, the SAME EXACT action--- uploading photos via the Blogger's "add photo" interface--- produced those very different results. That's bad interface design. The same action should not produce wildly different results.
Now: Let's see what Blogger does with a modestly-sized 1024x768 externally hosted version of the same photo:
How about an 800x600 version:
So, now we have an idea of Blogger's photo limitations.
Blogger's free, so it's silly to get worked up about its shortcomings. But it's good to know what those limitations are, so you can work around them.
Now that I understand how it's handling (and failing to handle) my photos, I can avoid the problems we've seen in several earlier posts. And if you use Blogger, maybe you can too!
Monday, October 27, 2008
COLD ride: Florida to NH
A few days ago, I told you about the first half of a double Ironbutt ride I did last week: New Hampshire to Florida and back; and 1500 miles (2400km) each way. The ride down (click) took 32 hours, straight through.
The ride back took longer and was a lot harder. Here's the ride report for that second half of the ride.
(I'm trying to embed larger photos this time. If Blogger chokes, you can see a properly-formatted version, free, here: http://www.advrider.com/forums/showthread.php?p=8206754#post8206754)
[Late update: Although the post looked fine in preview mode and had been properly added via the Blogger "add photo" interface, Blogger did mess up the photos by hacking off the right sides, as I'd feared. You can click on the photos below to see the non-cropped versions, or use the link above to see a better-formatted version.]
This photo (below) should strike terror into the hearts of cold weather riders everywhere:
It's the remains of a Gerbing heated vest plug that's been dragged along asphalt at high speed for an unknown number of miles.
I took the photos after I got home; I carry a pretty good emergency kit on long rides, but I never thought to include spare Gerbing connectors.
I discovered the damaged plug when I went to turn on the heated vest in the midst of a long through-the-night drive when the wind chill on the moving motorcycle dipped to about 0F (-17C). Needless to say, the vest didn't work.
In all, I had about 12 hours of bone-chilling cold during the ride. I've been out for shorter rides in much colder weather, but I never rode that cold for that long as last week.
But let's start back in the Florida panhandle, east of Pensacola, on a cool but sunny morning last week. I departed in good weather and light traffic, planning on riding all day, through the night, and to arrive home in late morning of the next day; 1500 miles in another 32-34 hours or so.
I10 across the Florida is a mindlessly easy ride with almost zero scenery. It is good, however, for burning miles, and that's what this ride was about: Just getting home quickly.
The morning wore on, the miles rolled away, the sun got warmer. It was a nice ride, albeit very boring. I listened to the BBC World Service on my XM radio to keep my brain cells alive.
I'd come south via the overland route; through the west side of the Carolinas, western Georgia, and down through Alabama. For the ride home, I wanted a more coastal route, for at least a little variety.
Eventually, I started seeing some coastal features, which helped alleviate the superslab boredom.
You can see from the lighting in the next photo that the afternoon was well evolved by the time I reached South Carolina. The sun had arced across the sky and was headed down.
Note the clear sky, too: It presaged a dry, moonlit night ride to come.
Soon, dusk settled in.
This is one of the parts of a ride that I enjoy the most; this is the moment when a more or less normal day ride turns into a serious long-distance effort. Night riding is a whole different thing from day riding, requiring a much higher level of alertness while your body's natural rhythms want to push you to lower alertness. It's a challenge in itself, and more so when starting a night ride after already covering a lot of miles in the day.
I always feel my adrenalin kick in just a bit at dusk. I switch to night riding glasses, sit a little straighter, get my feet properly centered on the pegs, and get my head fully in the game so I can try to use heightened awareness to help offset the diminishing light.
The temperatures started to fall, and I pulled over to layer up. I didn't try to plug in the vest yet--- it wasn't that cold yet. I just put on the unplugged vest and added a sweatshirt over it, and kept riding.
The clear sky allowed for radiational cooling and the temperatures dropped fast. Around 10PM, I stopped for gas and went to plug in my vest. Temperatures were then about 40F (5C) and falling fast. With the wind chill from the bike's forward motion, the effective temperature was about 25F (-4C), and still on the way down. The local radio stations were calling out frost warnings with low temperatures expected around freezing. Add in a 75mph forward speed, and I'd have wind chills overnight in the vicinity of 0F (-17C). Definitely chilly.
That was when I saw the damaged plug. There wasn't enough plug left to make contact when I inserted it in its socket.
*&^$%!
Remember, this had been a ride to Florida, so I wasn't carrying my full Winter gear yet.
Brrr.
I did have some cold weather gear--- I always travel with at least some. I buttoned up as best I could to keep cold air out. I put on a pair of "Wristies" (fleece wrist gauntlets) to totally seal my sleeve cuffs, and a "Dickie" style fleece neck gauntlet. (I always carry those anyway.)
I rode onward, hunched below the windscreen to stay out of the fastest air.
On towards midnight, I was pretty thoroughly chilled and the air temps where a few degrees above freezing, and still going down. I stopped for coffee and also dug out a long sleeved shirt. At that point, I had on a wicking undershirt, a dead electrical vest, a long-sleeved shirt, a sweatshirt and my riding jacket: I was at max bulk for clothing, and couldn't add more layers without becoming unable to zip the jacket shut. This was as good as it was going to get.
I had overpants and bluejeans on my legs. I had no extra clothing to add there.
I had thick wicking socks on my feet, in heavy boots; my toes were OK.
But basically, I was maxed out on wearable clothing, and it was only midnight with 6-8 hours of colder-still riding to come.
I started a slow internal debate about finding a motel for the night. But for now I was only uncomfortable; not in danger. I pressed onward.
It just wasn't much fun riding. The night passed slowly. I was very cold, but hadn't reached the point of shivering. (Shivering is sign of incipient hypothermia, and that you need to get warm *now*.) It was just very, very uncomfortable.
When the cold would really get to me, I'd stop for coffee and gas and use the hot-air dryers in the mens room to blow air up my sleeves, and to raise the temperature of my clothing itself.
The cold did help keep me awake for most of the night, but fatigue caught up with me around 4AM somewhere on a long stretch of forested highway. There were no motels in the area, and I didn't feel much like extending the ride in a hunt off the highway for one. I also was loathe to pay for a "night" in a motel when it would really just be a couple hours. So, I pulled into a rest area for a nap.
I'd done this many times before, including on the ride down to Florida; but not with temperatures this cold.
In roadside "Ironbutt Motel" naps, I usually either lie on a picnic bench or just lean back onto the pillion cushion. This time, I raided my emergency bag for a "space blanket" (a reflective blanket that prevents radiant heat transfer), spread it over me, cracked my visor open a bit, leaned back onto the passenger seat, and was almost immediately asleep.
I woke about an hour later; typical for my roadside naps. First light was showing in the sky. I sat up. My visor was opaque with condensed breath. I opened it. Wow. The top surface of the space blanket was dusted with feathery frost crystals. The grass in the roadside area was white and my motorcycle's windshield was opaque with frost. Elsewhere in the rest area, a few cars idled to keep their sleeping drivers warm; the exhaust made thick plumes that rose sluggishly in the cold, still air.
Did I mention that it was FREAKING COLD?
Stiff and sleepy, I waddled into the men's room and warmed up a bit.
I headed north again, stopping for hot liquids as needed.
I was in New Jersey when the sun fully arose.
There are parts of New Jersey where it really is "The Garden State." But the I95 corridor isn't one of them.
The low sun didn't give much warmth, but I was grateful for any heat at all.
In the NYC area, I hit the early morning rush hour traffic.
Back over the George Washington...
Back through Da Bronx.
I was feeling semi-human again as the sun climbed higher; still cold, but past the bone-chilling, mind-numbing cold of the predawn.
I left I95 in Connecticut, opting for a Parkway instead. Nice to see some color in the trees again.
It was pretty, but I just wanted to get home to a looooong hot shower.
The clouds thickened, and as I reach my home aream, the local radio stations were calling for rain most places, with snow up north and in the higher elevations. It was still a very cold ride.
But a shower, clean clothes and a nice glass of Woodford Reserve bourbon were waiting to warm me once I reached home.
It was good to get back.
The ride back took longer and was a lot harder. Here's the ride report for that second half of the ride.
(I'm trying to embed larger photos this time. If Blogger chokes, you can see a properly-formatted version, free, here: http://www.advrider.com/forums/showthread.php?p=8206754#post8206754)
[Late update: Although the post looked fine in preview mode and had been properly added via the Blogger "add photo" interface, Blogger did mess up the photos by hacking off the right sides, as I'd feared. You can click on the photos below to see the non-cropped versions, or use the link above to see a better-formatted version.]
This photo (below) should strike terror into the hearts of cold weather riders everywhere:
It's the remains of a Gerbing heated vest plug that's been dragged along asphalt at high speed for an unknown number of miles.
I took the photos after I got home; I carry a pretty good emergency kit on long rides, but I never thought to include spare Gerbing connectors.
I discovered the damaged plug when I went to turn on the heated vest in the midst of a long through-the-night drive when the wind chill on the moving motorcycle dipped to about 0F (-17C). Needless to say, the vest didn't work.
In all, I had about 12 hours of bone-chilling cold during the ride. I've been out for shorter rides in much colder weather, but I never rode that cold for that long as last week.
But let's start back in the Florida panhandle, east of Pensacola, on a cool but sunny morning last week. I departed in good weather and light traffic, planning on riding all day, through the night, and to arrive home in late morning of the next day; 1500 miles in another 32-34 hours or so.
I10 across the Florida is a mindlessly easy ride with almost zero scenery. It is good, however, for burning miles, and that's what this ride was about: Just getting home quickly.
The morning wore on, the miles rolled away, the sun got warmer. It was a nice ride, albeit very boring. I listened to the BBC World Service on my XM radio to keep my brain cells alive.
I'd come south via the overland route; through the west side of the Carolinas, western Georgia, and down through Alabama. For the ride home, I wanted a more coastal route, for at least a little variety.
Eventually, I started seeing some coastal features, which helped alleviate the superslab boredom.
You can see from the lighting in the next photo that the afternoon was well evolved by the time I reached South Carolina. The sun had arced across the sky and was headed down.
Note the clear sky, too: It presaged a dry, moonlit night ride to come.
Soon, dusk settled in.
This is one of the parts of a ride that I enjoy the most; this is the moment when a more or less normal day ride turns into a serious long-distance effort. Night riding is a whole different thing from day riding, requiring a much higher level of alertness while your body's natural rhythms want to push you to lower alertness. It's a challenge in itself, and more so when starting a night ride after already covering a lot of miles in the day.
I always feel my adrenalin kick in just a bit at dusk. I switch to night riding glasses, sit a little straighter, get my feet properly centered on the pegs, and get my head fully in the game so I can try to use heightened awareness to help offset the diminishing light.
The temperatures started to fall, and I pulled over to layer up. I didn't try to plug in the vest yet--- it wasn't that cold yet. I just put on the unplugged vest and added a sweatshirt over it, and kept riding.
The clear sky allowed for radiational cooling and the temperatures dropped fast. Around 10PM, I stopped for gas and went to plug in my vest. Temperatures were then about 40F (5C) and falling fast. With the wind chill from the bike's forward motion, the effective temperature was about 25F (-4C), and still on the way down. The local radio stations were calling out frost warnings with low temperatures expected around freezing. Add in a 75mph forward speed, and I'd have wind chills overnight in the vicinity of 0F (-17C). Definitely chilly.
That was when I saw the damaged plug. There wasn't enough plug left to make contact when I inserted it in its socket.
*&^$%!
Remember, this had been a ride to Florida, so I wasn't carrying my full Winter gear yet.
Brrr.
I did have some cold weather gear--- I always travel with at least some. I buttoned up as best I could to keep cold air out. I put on a pair of "Wristies" (fleece wrist gauntlets) to totally seal my sleeve cuffs, and a "Dickie" style fleece neck gauntlet. (I always carry those anyway.)
I rode onward, hunched below the windscreen to stay out of the fastest air.
On towards midnight, I was pretty thoroughly chilled and the air temps where a few degrees above freezing, and still going down. I stopped for coffee and also dug out a long sleeved shirt. At that point, I had on a wicking undershirt, a dead electrical vest, a long-sleeved shirt, a sweatshirt and my riding jacket: I was at max bulk for clothing, and couldn't add more layers without becoming unable to zip the jacket shut. This was as good as it was going to get.
I had overpants and bluejeans on my legs. I had no extra clothing to add there.
I had thick wicking socks on my feet, in heavy boots; my toes were OK.
But basically, I was maxed out on wearable clothing, and it was only midnight with 6-8 hours of colder-still riding to come.
I started a slow internal debate about finding a motel for the night. But for now I was only uncomfortable; not in danger. I pressed onward.
It just wasn't much fun riding. The night passed slowly. I was very cold, but hadn't reached the point of shivering. (Shivering is sign of incipient hypothermia, and that you need to get warm *now*.) It was just very, very uncomfortable.
When the cold would really get to me, I'd stop for coffee and gas and use the hot-air dryers in the mens room to blow air up my sleeves, and to raise the temperature of my clothing itself.
The cold did help keep me awake for most of the night, but fatigue caught up with me around 4AM somewhere on a long stretch of forested highway. There were no motels in the area, and I didn't feel much like extending the ride in a hunt off the highway for one. I also was loathe to pay for a "night" in a motel when it would really just be a couple hours. So, I pulled into a rest area for a nap.
I'd done this many times before, including on the ride down to Florida; but not with temperatures this cold.
In roadside "Ironbutt Motel" naps, I usually either lie on a picnic bench or just lean back onto the pillion cushion. This time, I raided my emergency bag for a "space blanket" (a reflective blanket that prevents radiant heat transfer), spread it over me, cracked my visor open a bit, leaned back onto the passenger seat, and was almost immediately asleep.
I woke about an hour later; typical for my roadside naps. First light was showing in the sky. I sat up. My visor was opaque with condensed breath. I opened it. Wow. The top surface of the space blanket was dusted with feathery frost crystals. The grass in the roadside area was white and my motorcycle's windshield was opaque with frost. Elsewhere in the rest area, a few cars idled to keep their sleeping drivers warm; the exhaust made thick plumes that rose sluggishly in the cold, still air.
Did I mention that it was FREAKING COLD?
Stiff and sleepy, I waddled into the men's room and warmed up a bit.
I headed north again, stopping for hot liquids as needed.
I was in New Jersey when the sun fully arose.
There are parts of New Jersey where it really is "The Garden State." But the I95 corridor isn't one of them.
The low sun didn't give much warmth, but I was grateful for any heat at all.
In the NYC area, I hit the early morning rush hour traffic.
Back over the George Washington...
Back through Da Bronx.
I was feeling semi-human again as the sun climbed higher; still cold, but past the bone-chilling, mind-numbing cold of the predawn.
I left I95 in Connecticut, opting for a Parkway instead. Nice to see some color in the trees again.
It was pretty, but I just wanted to get home to a looooong hot shower.
The clouds thickened, and as I reach my home aream, the local radio stations were calling for rain most places, with snow up north and in the higher elevations. It was still a very cold ride.
But a shower, clean clothes and a nice glass of Woodford Reserve bourbon were waiting to warm me once I reached home.
It was good to get back.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Saturday, October 25, 2008
video editing greatness
From this:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WFidDhoSE_k
(you only need a minute or so to get the idea...)
to this:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GOzkmyDMQIc
(worth watching through)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WFidDhoSE_k
(you only need a minute or so to get the idea...)
to this:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GOzkmyDMQIc
(worth watching through)
Friday, October 24, 2008
WS, Blogger, and more photos...
Blogger's automation tools--- including a kind of robo-blog, where you preload blog items and tell Blogger to dole them out one per day--- are pretty good. But like most of Blogger, the UI is clumsy and unrefined. Add in operator fatigue (and a d'oh moment), and you get things like yesterday's double post. Ah well.
The second post was supposed to be a message from the Department of Shameless Self-Promotion; a heads up about a new "LangaList Plus" column posted at WindowsSecrets.Com. It covers:
Yes, it's by subscription, but there's no set fee. You pay only what you think the content is worth; whatever you pay that one time gets you access for an entire year.
More info: https://windowssecrets.com/
Your support there helps me keep the lights lit here. :-)
Finally, I'm working on the last batch of photos. There's a bit more of a narrative to the long ride home from Florida. For one thing, my heated vest failed. For another, the wind chill on the moving motorcycle dipped to about 0F (-17C) at dawn on Tuesday. In all, I had about 12 hours of bone-chilling cold during the ride.
It made things somewhat more interesting than anticipated.
I'll tell you all about in in a day or two. :-)
Meanwhile, go give https://windowssecrets.com/ a click, will you? Thanks!
The second post was supposed to be a message from the Department of Shameless Self-Promotion; a heads up about a new "LangaList Plus" column posted at WindowsSecrets.Com. It covers:
- In reinstalling any operating system, is it better to data-wipe the hard drive than to simply delete the previous OS?
- Update Windows without using Windows Update
- Repair a broken Help system
- Fix scratched LCD screens
Yes, it's by subscription, but there's no set fee. You pay only what you think the content is worth; whatever you pay that one time gets you access for an entire year.
More info: https://windowssecrets.com/
Your support there helps me keep the lights lit here. :-)
Finally, I'm working on the last batch of photos. There's a bit more of a narrative to the long ride home from Florida. For one thing, my heated vest failed. For another, the wind chill on the moving motorcycle dipped to about 0F (-17C) at dawn on Tuesday. In all, I had about 12 hours of bone-chilling cold during the ride.
It made things somewhat more interesting than anticipated.
I'll tell you all about in in a day or two. :-)
Meanwhile, go give https://windowssecrets.com/ a click, will you? Thanks!
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Not to be contentious...
... but just because it's silly fun:
http://www.palinaspresident.us/
(I'll soon post the rest of the photos from my road trip.)
http://www.palinaspresident.us/
(I'll soon post the rest of the photos from my road trip.)
NH to Florida In One Go
(As usual, click the thumbnail images to see larger versions)
I left New Hampshire on my motorcycle on a Wednesday morning, intending to arrive in the panhandle of Florida sometime the next afternoon; 1500 miles or so (2400km) in one continuous ride. Here's a view of the round trip:
I got a reasonably early start on a beautiful New England Fall day and headed east towards the coast (into the morning sun) where I'd pick up Interstate 95 for the first leg of the long southern trek.
It was quite cool, but I had my heated vest on. The foliage was just about at peak color, making the first part of the drive very pleasant. The clear air and the bright, slanting sunlight made the colors really pop.
I entered and crossed half of Massachusetts, then cut south across the hills of Connecticut. Here's Hartford, in the distance:
No, the white car did not just make those skid marks. :-)
My first gas stop was around here. (The Goldwing has a large gas tank and can travel for 3-4 hours nonstop at highway speeds.)
The trees were greener as I headed south towards New York, but there still were spots of nice color.
As the sun climbed, it became gloriously warm, and I was able to take off my heated vest and a layer or two of clothing. A gorgeous midday:
I bit later, I hit the outer reaches of New York City.
As usual, Da Bronx was a mess.
I lived in the NYC area for 7 years, and I understand the attractions of city life. But driving through the city isn't one of them. Here, I95 lets you know what a bowling gutterball feels like.
Parts of the Bronx landscape are wholly artificial. And, no offense to New Yawkers, but I have to say: butt ugly.
Above: It's all concrete and steel as far as the eye can see, a landscape entirely subjugated to the needs of machines--- automobiles. You know, it's only a short step from the "Machine City" of the Matrix. ;-)
Whenever I go back to NY, I marvel that I actually lived here, a place so unlike where I now am. I have to say I don't miss this:
Or this:
Or this:
Here, I'm approaching the George Washington Bridge in heavy traffic. There's always heavy traffic at the GW. Day, night, holidays--- doesn't matter. You'll always hit slow traffic.
You do get a nice view from the bridge, however. Heading west, as I was, you get a view up the Hudson to your right, and (as shown below) the skyline of lower Manhattan in the distance to your left.
Without the World Trade Towers, the skyline is rather generic.
Its spectacle is in its horizontal sweep. When the WTC Towers were there, it also had impressive vertical impact. Now, thanks to the glories of radical Islam, not so much. Mohammad Atta, I wish there were a hell, just so you could rot in it.
Here's the cut through the Palisades on the New Jersey side of the river.
Fun fact: The term "cliffhanger" originated in the 1914 movie serial "The Perils of Pauline," which was filmed in and around the New Jersey Palisades.
More: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/New_Jersey_Palisades
I crossed through the spaghetti traffic patterns of Fort Lee; a series of close-spaced Interstate, State and local interchanges with as many as 14 side-by-side highway lanes at a given time.
Below: The opening credits of the Sopranos, with Tony driving into New Jersey while chomping on a cigar, were shot around here. That's Manhattan in the distance.
I drove the length of the New Jersey Turnpike through the afternoon, stopping as needed for fuel and calls of nature. At one point I snoozed briefly in a rest stop to recharge my own batteries.
Long day.
As the sun started to get low in the sky, I crossed into Delaware. Here are the twin bridges over the Delaware River.
I'd stopped several times for gas by this point and stopped again after crossing the bridges for gas and a light dinner. I was standing beside my bike drinking a coke when a man came up behind me. "Excuse me, sir," he said.
I turned around. He looked apologetic and motioned to his small son, a boy of perhaps 5. "My son loves everything yellow," the man said, "Could he look at your motorcycle?" My Goldwing is bright yellow, a color I choose for high visibility in traffic.
Of course he could look.
I pointed out some of the bike's features to the wide-eyed boy while his mother got a camera ready. I asked if the boy would like to try on my helmet--- also bright yellow. He nodded mutely, eyes like saucers.
Remember the Rick Moranis character in Spaceballs, "Dark Helmet?" Except for the glasses and the color, that's what this kid looked like in my helmet--- it was HUGE on him.
But the kid was happy. His Mom snapped the photo, and the three of them went back to their car.
Oddly, they then sat there watching me until I suited up and rode off, feeling very self-conscious as they sat and watched my every move.
It was getting on towards dusk when I crossed the Susquehanna, the sun low in the sky, casting long shadows and shading everything with a reddish hue.
A while later, I saw sunset over Baltimore:
(if you're skimming, the above might be worth the extra click to enlarge...)
Here we go under the harbor (with motion blur from the slow shutter)...
...and up the other side.
I think this (below) is the bridge over the Patapsco, but I couldn't swear to it. The camera makes this look brighter than it really was: I was entering my nighttime riding "zone" where all attention is just on the illuminated roadway ahead; aging eyeballs aimed so my fovea centralis can entirely seek roadway detail...
I reached the DC beltway as night fell. Speeds fell, too; the tail end of rush hour.
A long night ensued as I made my way south and west across Virginia and both Carolinas. The night-dark, tree-lined highways offered little to see and nothing to photograph. This was just about eating miles, and so that's what I did, stopping for gas as needed, and once, for a brief nap in a South Carolina roadside rest area. Zzzz-zzzzz-zzzzz.
It got quite cool as the night wore on, and I put on my heated gear and extra clothing layers.
The night passed uneventfully, with long stretches where I seemed to be the only vehicle on the road, the Goldwing's excellent headlights cutting a brilliant tunnel through the leafy Carolina darkness.
I stopped for gas and breakfast at first light. Shortly after, full day broke clear, cold, and very pretty.
I crossed into Georgia.
Although I was far outside Atlanta, the highway showed the effects of rush hour. On a motorcycle, I could use the HOV lanes and managed to make pretty good time despite the thickening traffic.
The landscape got duller and the traffic thicker. This kind of motorcycle riding kind of sucks--- extra risks, compared to driving a car, with few extra rewards. I'd been going for about 24 hours now, and wished for more sensory stimulation, but the next few miles were an unrewarding grind. I forced myself alert.
But at least I was still making progress.
Things really bogged down near the city proper.
But I was soon through downtown Atlanta and making good time again.
As the day wore on, I crossed into Alabama, passing through Montgomery and heading south towards the Gulf Coast. The land flattened, the sun got hotter, and the temperatures and humidity climbed. I stripped off layers at gas stops. There was no hint of Autumn; this was still late Summer. The climate finally felt distinctly Southern.
It got more so. Cotton was ripening in the fields of southern Alabama and Northern Florida.
Errant bolls blew across the highway; the white tufts rolling like tiny tumbleweeds across the pavement, catching on the grassy verge and gathering in the gutters.
Some fields were spectacular:
I pulled into my sister's in Crestview, Florida shortly thereafter, approximately 32 hours after leaving my house in NH. I was tired and a bit sore, but I'd enjoyed the ride.
Hope you did too!
I left New Hampshire on my motorcycle on a Wednesday morning, intending to arrive in the panhandle of Florida sometime the next afternoon; 1500 miles or so (2400km) in one continuous ride. Here's a view of the round trip:
I got a reasonably early start on a beautiful New England Fall day and headed east towards the coast (into the morning sun) where I'd pick up Interstate 95 for the first leg of the long southern trek.
It was quite cool, but I had my heated vest on. The foliage was just about at peak color, making the first part of the drive very pleasant. The clear air and the bright, slanting sunlight made the colors really pop.
I entered and crossed half of Massachusetts, then cut south across the hills of Connecticut. Here's Hartford, in the distance:
No, the white car did not just make those skid marks. :-)
My first gas stop was around here. (The Goldwing has a large gas tank and can travel for 3-4 hours nonstop at highway speeds.)
The trees were greener as I headed south towards New York, but there still were spots of nice color.
As the sun climbed, it became gloriously warm, and I was able to take off my heated vest and a layer or two of clothing. A gorgeous midday:
I bit later, I hit the outer reaches of New York City.
As usual, Da Bronx was a mess.
I lived in the NYC area for 7 years, and I understand the attractions of city life. But driving through the city isn't one of them. Here, I95 lets you know what a bowling gutterball feels like.
Parts of the Bronx landscape are wholly artificial. And, no offense to New Yawkers, but I have to say: butt ugly.
Above: It's all concrete and steel as far as the eye can see, a landscape entirely subjugated to the needs of machines--- automobiles. You know, it's only a short step from the "Machine City" of the Matrix. ;-)
Whenever I go back to NY, I marvel that I actually lived here, a place so unlike where I now am. I have to say I don't miss this:
Or this:
Or this:
Here, I'm approaching the George Washington Bridge in heavy traffic. There's always heavy traffic at the GW. Day, night, holidays--- doesn't matter. You'll always hit slow traffic.
You do get a nice view from the bridge, however. Heading west, as I was, you get a view up the Hudson to your right, and (as shown below) the skyline of lower Manhattan in the distance to your left.
Without the World Trade Towers, the skyline is rather generic.
Its spectacle is in its horizontal sweep. When the WTC Towers were there, it also had impressive vertical impact. Now, thanks to the glories of radical Islam, not so much. Mohammad Atta, I wish there were a hell, just so you could rot in it.
Here's the cut through the Palisades on the New Jersey side of the river.
Fun fact: The term "cliffhanger" originated in the 1914 movie serial "The Perils of Pauline," which was filmed in and around the New Jersey Palisades.
More: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/New_Jersey_Palisades
I crossed through the spaghetti traffic patterns of Fort Lee; a series of close-spaced Interstate, State and local interchanges with as many as 14 side-by-side highway lanes at a given time.
Below: The opening credits of the Sopranos, with Tony driving into New Jersey while chomping on a cigar, were shot around here. That's Manhattan in the distance.
I drove the length of the New Jersey Turnpike through the afternoon, stopping as needed for fuel and calls of nature. At one point I snoozed briefly in a rest stop to recharge my own batteries.
Long day.
As the sun started to get low in the sky, I crossed into Delaware. Here are the twin bridges over the Delaware River.
I'd stopped several times for gas by this point and stopped again after crossing the bridges for gas and a light dinner. I was standing beside my bike drinking a coke when a man came up behind me. "Excuse me, sir," he said.
I turned around. He looked apologetic and motioned to his small son, a boy of perhaps 5. "My son loves everything yellow," the man said, "Could he look at your motorcycle?" My Goldwing is bright yellow, a color I choose for high visibility in traffic.
Of course he could look.
I pointed out some of the bike's features to the wide-eyed boy while his mother got a camera ready. I asked if the boy would like to try on my helmet--- also bright yellow. He nodded mutely, eyes like saucers.
Remember the Rick Moranis character in Spaceballs, "Dark Helmet?" Except for the glasses and the color, that's what this kid looked like in my helmet--- it was HUGE on him.
But the kid was happy. His Mom snapped the photo, and the three of them went back to their car.
Oddly, they then sat there watching me until I suited up and rode off, feeling very self-conscious as they sat and watched my every move.
It was getting on towards dusk when I crossed the Susquehanna, the sun low in the sky, casting long shadows and shading everything with a reddish hue.
A while later, I saw sunset over Baltimore:
(if you're skimming, the above might be worth the extra click to enlarge...)
Here we go under the harbor (with motion blur from the slow shutter)...
...and up the other side.
I think this (below) is the bridge over the Patapsco, but I couldn't swear to it. The camera makes this look brighter than it really was: I was entering my nighttime riding "zone" where all attention is just on the illuminated roadway ahead; aging eyeballs aimed so my fovea centralis can entirely seek roadway detail...
I reached the DC beltway as night fell. Speeds fell, too; the tail end of rush hour.
A long night ensued as I made my way south and west across Virginia and both Carolinas. The night-dark, tree-lined highways offered little to see and nothing to photograph. This was just about eating miles, and so that's what I did, stopping for gas as needed, and once, for a brief nap in a South Carolina roadside rest area. Zzzz-zzzzz-zzzzz.
It got quite cool as the night wore on, and I put on my heated gear and extra clothing layers.
The night passed uneventfully, with long stretches where I seemed to be the only vehicle on the road, the Goldwing's excellent headlights cutting a brilliant tunnel through the leafy Carolina darkness.
I stopped for gas and breakfast at first light. Shortly after, full day broke clear, cold, and very pretty.
I crossed into Georgia.
Although I was far outside Atlanta, the highway showed the effects of rush hour. On a motorcycle, I could use the HOV lanes and managed to make pretty good time despite the thickening traffic.
The landscape got duller and the traffic thicker. This kind of motorcycle riding kind of sucks--- extra risks, compared to driving a car, with few extra rewards. I'd been going for about 24 hours now, and wished for more sensory stimulation, but the next few miles were an unrewarding grind. I forced myself alert.
But at least I was still making progress.
Things really bogged down near the city proper.
But I was soon through downtown Atlanta and making good time again.
As the day wore on, I crossed into Alabama, passing through Montgomery and heading south towards the Gulf Coast. The land flattened, the sun got hotter, and the temperatures and humidity climbed. I stripped off layers at gas stops. There was no hint of Autumn; this was still late Summer. The climate finally felt distinctly Southern.
It got more so. Cotton was ripening in the fields of southern Alabama and Northern Florida.
Errant bolls blew across the highway; the white tufts rolling like tiny tumbleweeds across the pavement, catching on the grassy verge and gathering in the gutters.
Some fields were spectacular:
I pulled into my sister's in Crestview, Florida shortly thereafter, approximately 32 hours after leaving my house in NH. I was tired and a bit sore, but I'd enjoyed the ride.
Hope you did too!
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