I managed to squeeze in about a 3 hour ride through the countryside today.
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Monday, July 30, 2007
Day 3 (or is it 4?)
Backtracking, apparently we were not the only people who had issues with the Colorline.
Today we took a short drive from Bremen to our friend's house in the Netherlands. We took our time getting out of Bremen. Of course our brief sightseeing was interrupted by rain. Lise tells me I MUST bike daily, since I dragged that thing along. Of course I have no cold weather or rain gear. Who brings clothing to bike in nasty weather on vacation? I'd rather just drink cheap Heineken and eat cheese all day.
Today we took a short drive from Bremen to our friend's house in the Netherlands. We took our time getting out of Bremen. Of course our brief sightseeing was interrupted by rain. Lise tells me I MUST bike daily, since I dragged that thing along. Of course I have no cold weather or rain gear. Who brings clothing to bike in nasty weather on vacation? I'd rather just drink cheap Heineken and eat cheese all day.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Back In Bremen
Our adventure continues. Today we drove from Aalborg, Denmark to Bremen, Germany, where I stayed a week for work a year and a half ago. Denmark has a fine freeway system, which led us into Germany. My hopes for redlining our car on the autobahn were dashed by a combination of rain and heavy traffic. It appears every camping trailer in Europe was heading home-- the last Sunday before August. We made great time before the weather turned, but mostly it was rain. The temporary speed limit signs were lit up. Or are they merely recommendations? It didn't matter. Traffic was jammed up in the middle of nowhere. Julian was a bit restless. If you consider that he he is basically restrained in his car seat, he is quite accommodating for even bothering to travel with us.
You can literally drive north to south through all of Denmark without even taking a potty break. I don't exactly have a truck driver's bladder, so you can do the math. Granted we had maybe an hour's headstart, but it was nothing to make it to the border at Flensburg- or rather Flensborg as the Danes would have it spelled. They have a garish last ditch Scandinavian stop there- the last outpost for buying excessive quantities of cheap beer, cheep candy, cases of Coke, all matter of liquor, and a bunch of items that scream "Dollar Store." Oddly, they had a very fine cafe that was literally giving away food and beverages. I expected much less from a tourist trap.
The rest of the trip was dictated by Julian's travel needs. We would have driven all the way to our friends in the Netherlands had our timing been more in synch with his. We were running late from the ferry fiasco, and with the heavy traffic-- and I am talking stop and go autobahn traffic- cruising at 130 kph, stopping, 130kph, stopping, over and over. It was not condusive to making the trip in the estimated seven hours. We needed more time. We would have arrive well after Julian's bedtime. After much discussion, we opted to stop in Bremen for the night. We stayed very near the hotel that I spent a week last time I was here.
A note about traveling in Germany: not everyone speaks English. We stopped at a rest area, and Lise wanted French fries. I asked for pommes frites, which should be the universal word for fries if you are not American. I ended up with a meal of sorts--- that included the fries. It was some sort of sausage smothered in a barbecue sauce. Hey- it was food. On the other end of the food spectrum, we stopped at La Dolce Vita in Bremen- the same restaurant I ate in almost nightly when I was staying here. The food was excellent. They were playing some recording that sounded like Leonard Cohen singing in Italian. Julian tolerated his parents with grace, as usual. We had an excellent meal, and I drank two large beers- for under 30 Euros. The beer alone would have cost that much back in Norway.
The beautiful thing about living in Norway is everything is so expensive, that is seems like petty cash to spend 88 Euros to fill a gas tank, or €109 for a hotel room. It makes travel seem dirt cheap.
You can literally drive north to south through all of Denmark without even taking a potty break. I don't exactly have a truck driver's bladder, so you can do the math. Granted we had maybe an hour's headstart, but it was nothing to make it to the border at Flensburg- or rather Flensborg as the Danes would have it spelled. They have a garish last ditch Scandinavian stop there- the last outpost for buying excessive quantities of cheap beer, cheep candy, cases of Coke, all matter of liquor, and a bunch of items that scream "Dollar Store." Oddly, they had a very fine cafe that was literally giving away food and beverages. I expected much less from a tourist trap.
The rest of the trip was dictated by Julian's travel needs. We would have driven all the way to our friends in the Netherlands had our timing been more in synch with his. We were running late from the ferry fiasco, and with the heavy traffic-- and I am talking stop and go autobahn traffic- cruising at 130 kph, stopping, 130kph, stopping, over and over. It was not condusive to making the trip in the estimated seven hours. We needed more time. We would have arrive well after Julian's bedtime. After much discussion, we opted to stop in Bremen for the night. We stayed very near the hotel that I spent a week last time I was here.
A note about traveling in Germany: not everyone speaks English. We stopped at a rest area, and Lise wanted French fries. I asked for pommes frites, which should be the universal word for fries if you are not American. I ended up with a meal of sorts--- that included the fries. It was some sort of sausage smothered in a barbecue sauce. Hey- it was food. On the other end of the food spectrum, we stopped at La Dolce Vita in Bremen- the same restaurant I ate in almost nightly when I was staying here. The food was excellent. They were playing some recording that sounded like Leonard Cohen singing in Italian. Julian tolerated his parents with grace, as usual. We had an excellent meal, and I drank two large beers- for under 30 Euros. The beer alone would have cost that much back in Norway.
The beautiful thing about living in Norway is everything is so expensive, that is seems like petty cash to spend 88 Euros to fill a gas tank, or €109 for a hotel room. It makes travel seem dirt cheap.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
It Only Gets Better
Last night Lise and I had sexy pillow talk discussing how ferries actually make up a lost five or six hours. She was doing the calculations, and had determined that our 8:15am ferry simply had to be late. It was mathematically impossible for it to be on time if the night ferry ran. I was convinced they simply canceled enough ferries until they actually were on time again--- but my mathematical impossibility was that if all ferries were sold out, how do passengers find room on future ferries to rebook? It made no sense no matter how it was sliced. There were no messages on the website. We set the alarm for 6:15 and planned to be at the ferry an hour in advance, exactly as directed.
We woke up tired. Lise checked the website-- there were no messages about late ferries. We loaded up Julian and hurried to the landing. A half mile from the loading area we encountered a massive traffic jam. It was like driving to the Renaissance Festival. Eventually we made it up to the ticketing booth. We were told the ferry was late- that it would be leaving at 1:30pm. We were given a food voucher for 75nok each-- including Julian, our son with one tooth. We were offered a breakfast voucher at McDonalds, but declined. It was around 7:30. We lined up our car and immediately were entirely boxed in. There was no hope for escape. We trekked to downtown Kristiansand and searched for an open cafe. I found a hotel in Denmark. I really wanted to have a reservation, especially with a baby, so we planned to drive to Aalborg and stay at a Radison. We had a light breakfast, wandered around, shopped, ate lunch, shopped, had coffee, and headed back to the landing at noon. We finally saw the ferry pull in. After an endless wait for unloading, we finally saw cars starting to enter. Eventually we filtered into the line.
Just before being swallowed whole by the ferry, the agent asked for our ticket. We had the wrong ticket. Lise had to sprint a 100m dash to the ticket booth. As she sprang from the car, some woman in the car next to us yelled her name. Lise made it back to the car in world record time, and we were on the ramp into the ferry. I have been on many ferries, but nothing like this. I have never seen so many cars packed into just this one section-- and there were several sections, kept watertight from each other.
We scrambled for seats, but it seemed there was nowhere to sit. Eventually we found a spot across from some elevators. As the ferry finally left, the captain apologized for being late, and said there were 4m waves. Lise said that was nothing- she had been out in 9m waves. I wandered around to look outside, and was greeted by the sight of a pool of vomit-- presumably from the return trip. We hadn't even left the fjord yet.
I wandered around the ferry with Julian. The ferry had at least nine levels-- with slot machines everywhere, tax free shopping, bars, restaurants, a movie theater--- and people everywhere. After maybe two hours, we were still in sight of land. I thought about the fact that we paid for the express ferry, and were on the slow boat--- at the same price. When I shared my thoughts with Lise, she mentioned the fact that there is nothing you can do about the weather. I told her the Chinese were planning to control the weather during the Olympics, but she wasn't interested in hearing much about it. She reminded me that we have always had smooth travels. We have never contended with canceled flights, or other travel misfortunes. She said we could have been reimbursed for our unexpected stay in Kristiansand. I reminded her that we would have stayed in Denmark, so it was no extra expense. All in all, nothing was lost--- other that a bit of time in a well-cushioned trip.
I took Julian for much of the trip. He magically acquired a tooth overnight. I find it amusing to joke that he needs to brush his tooth-- but I guess he really should. He has been an amazingly easy travel companion, considering his routine has been completely disrupted, and he is suddenly sprouting teeth where there had been none. The ferry ride itself was rather uneventful. Those 4m waves never really materialized as promised. We finally made it to Denmark after around five hours. There was a massive crush of people trying to make it to their cars. It is moments like that when I fear for what might happen if there were truly an emergency at sea. There would be hopeless bottlenecks, widespread panic, mass chaos. We practically experienced it in finding our car.
We summarily drove off the boat and were back on E39-- the same road we took from Stavanger. It quickly turned into a freeway, and I had no clue what the speed limit was. Europe has these cryptic signs that says what the speed limit is NOT-- in this case, I noted that it was not 110 kph. I then assumed it as 120. Most other driver appeared to agree. I settled in, content with finally letting our car open up- unbound by the slowish 90kph limits of Norway. I cannot wait to hit Germany- although, unfortunately, as of this writing, Lise has just finished reading the Harry Potter book. I am sure she will be attentive of my speed. Of course there is Julian to consider, as well as issues of self-preservation and sanity. Actually, I never liked being a passenger on the autobahn when we were cruising at 160+.
In no time we arrived in Aalborg, although Julian was rather discontent. We settled in. No more ferries this trip, until we return.
We woke up tired. Lise checked the website-- there were no messages about late ferries. We loaded up Julian and hurried to the landing. A half mile from the loading area we encountered a massive traffic jam. It was like driving to the Renaissance Festival. Eventually we made it up to the ticketing booth. We were told the ferry was late- that it would be leaving at 1:30pm. We were given a food voucher for 75nok each-- including Julian, our son with one tooth. We were offered a breakfast voucher at McDonalds, but declined. It was around 7:30. We lined up our car and immediately were entirely boxed in. There was no hope for escape. We trekked to downtown Kristiansand and searched for an open cafe. I found a hotel in Denmark. I really wanted to have a reservation, especially with a baby, so we planned to drive to Aalborg and stay at a Radison. We had a light breakfast, wandered around, shopped, ate lunch, shopped, had coffee, and headed back to the landing at noon. We finally saw the ferry pull in. After an endless wait for unloading, we finally saw cars starting to enter. Eventually we filtered into the line.
Just before being swallowed whole by the ferry, the agent asked for our ticket. We had the wrong ticket. Lise had to sprint a 100m dash to the ticket booth. As she sprang from the car, some woman in the car next to us yelled her name. Lise made it back to the car in world record time, and we were on the ramp into the ferry. I have been on many ferries, but nothing like this. I have never seen so many cars packed into just this one section-- and there were several sections, kept watertight from each other.
We scrambled for seats, but it seemed there was nowhere to sit. Eventually we found a spot across from some elevators. As the ferry finally left, the captain apologized for being late, and said there were 4m waves. Lise said that was nothing- she had been out in 9m waves. I wandered around to look outside, and was greeted by the sight of a pool of vomit-- presumably from the return trip. We hadn't even left the fjord yet.
I wandered around the ferry with Julian. The ferry had at least nine levels-- with slot machines everywhere, tax free shopping, bars, restaurants, a movie theater--- and people everywhere. After maybe two hours, we were still in sight of land. I thought about the fact that we paid for the express ferry, and were on the slow boat--- at the same price. When I shared my thoughts with Lise, she mentioned the fact that there is nothing you can do about the weather. I told her the Chinese were planning to control the weather during the Olympics, but she wasn't interested in hearing much about it. She reminded me that we have always had smooth travels. We have never contended with canceled flights, or other travel misfortunes. She said we could have been reimbursed for our unexpected stay in Kristiansand. I reminded her that we would have stayed in Denmark, so it was no extra expense. All in all, nothing was lost--- other that a bit of time in a well-cushioned trip.
I took Julian for much of the trip. He magically acquired a tooth overnight. I find it amusing to joke that he needs to brush his tooth-- but I guess he really should. He has been an amazingly easy travel companion, considering his routine has been completely disrupted, and he is suddenly sprouting teeth where there had been none. The ferry ride itself was rather uneventful. Those 4m waves never really materialized as promised. We finally made it to Denmark after around five hours. There was a massive crush of people trying to make it to their cars. It is moments like that when I fear for what might happen if there were truly an emergency at sea. There would be hopeless bottlenecks, widespread panic, mass chaos. We practically experienced it in finding our car.
We summarily drove off the boat and were back on E39-- the same road we took from Stavanger. It quickly turned into a freeway, and I had no clue what the speed limit was. Europe has these cryptic signs that says what the speed limit is NOT-- in this case, I noted that it was not 110 kph. I then assumed it as 120. Most other driver appeared to agree. I settled in, content with finally letting our car open up- unbound by the slowish 90kph limits of Norway. I cannot wait to hit Germany- although, unfortunately, as of this writing, Lise has just finished reading the Harry Potter book. I am sure she will be attentive of my speed. Of course there is Julian to consider, as well as issues of self-preservation and sanity. Actually, I never liked being a passenger on the autobahn when we were cruising at 160+.
In no time we arrived in Aalborg, although Julian was rather discontent. We settled in. No more ferries this trip, until we return.
Friday, July 27, 2007
European Vacation
Yesterday I picked our car up at the shop. It needed a new computer for the ABS system-- which costs much more than a home PC, by the way. It also needed a little other work, since a few days ago it started randomly stalling. I don't know if this has anything to do with BMW reliability issues, or whether we were spoiled back in our Toyota days. All I know is that I have purchased used cars for less than the price of these repairs. I was a little nervous about leaving on a road trip to the Netherlands the next day, but the speedometer seems to be working, and the car runs great.
Today we set out today about 40 minutes late, after loading the car in wind and rain. There was room for a bike that I had disassembled-- in the car. During the drive down I suggested we purchase a roof rack. That idea was rounded supported by my wife. I might actually buy it in the Netherlands. Our drive down was mostly rain-- except when we took tours of Norway's countless tunnels. Seriously, they are everywhere. I have no concept how many there are. We stopped and met some friends in Flekkefjord half way to Kristiansand-- where we were to meet our ferry to Denmark.
We arrived at the ferry landing an hour before departure, and were queued up, waiting for it to arrive. We were told that it was running late-- two hours late. There were cars everywhere waiting for ferries. A massive ferry was moored nearby. We were scheduled on an express boat--only 2.5 hours to Denmark. The plan was to spend the night in Denmark, head south through Germany, find a place to spend the night, then roll in to visit our friends in the northern Netherlands sometime on Sunday. It was the perfect plan.
Since the ferry was running late, I suggested we grab a bite downtown Kristiansand, an easy walk within sight of the ferry landing. We checked with the ferry staff, who suggested we return by 18:00- when it was scheduled to arrive (three hours late). We grabbed a bite at a decent restaurant. I was not feeling particularly relaxed, since we had to return to our car by 18:00. Lise was uneasy. She told me she had a bad feeling about the ferry, and wanted to reschedule. I was quite annoyed. I don't get seasick, but I don't do particularly well in big seas. I know that out in the open ocean, waves can easily be larger than houses. I have a system for dealing with it, but it is not something I look forward to. I had been anticipating nasty seas all afternoon, and was ready for them. Waiting until tomorrow was unacceptable. Lise's concerns were compounded by her father, who phoned to voice his worries. He could not have called at a worse time. My reasoning was based on the fact that ferries would not put passengers in danger-- that if it was too rough, the ferries would not be running. My larger concern was that it would be impossible to find a hotel tonight, in the height on tourist season, in southern Norway, on a Friday night. Lise's concerns were about Julian, that if the ferry was already late, it would arrive even later--- would definitely not be some express 2.5 hour trip, but could easily be twice that. That could put us in Denmark at midnight.
As we walked back toward the ferry landing, essentially arguing about what to do, Lise said she just wanted to drop in and ask about the delays. It turned out to be the best thing she could have done. We found out that our ferry was canceled. It had been decided for us. The next ferry was scheduled for 10pm- but there was no guarantee that would depart. She rebooked on a morning ferry. When we arrived at the landing, I realized that all the cars queued up for the other ferry line were still there--- they had canceled all ships. As we approached our car, we saw our Color Line ferry pull in. Everyone in our queue entered their cars, anticipating they would leave soon. We knew better. I managed to wiggle out of our parking spot. We were in one of the few spots where it was even possible to escape, since most lines allowed no such room. I managed to drive against a one-way street and leave the endless wait behind. No one was updating any of the drivers waiting to leave. We were free.
We pulled into a nearby parking lot, and Lise immediately started phoning hotels. There were no vacancies anywhere, except a few single bed rooms. After extinguishing our list, I offered to sleep on the floor-- as long as we had somewhere to spend the night. When Lise attempted to recall the hotels, she couldn't even get through. We expanded our quest for shelter to include cabin at campgrounds, and accommodations in neighboring towns. Nothing was available. Julian was upset. I was stressed. Lise phoned a number to a vacation apartment in a nearby town, and found no vacancy. The proprietor mentioned that he had an apartment in Kristiansand that was available. As a coincidence, we were in Kristiansand. We took it. We were given directions as we drove. It was a little strange, it it was our only real option.
We ended up with a very nice apartment-- at a price cheaper than a fancy hotel room. We leave tomorrow at 8:15am. I later found out that the wind around here was 18m/s-- which is very near storm velocities. We are rebooked on a regular massive ferry-- not one of the smaller, express ferries. It will take twice the time--- and I would imagine four times the time to load and unload all the vehicles. At least we have no real timelines. It does raise concerns for our return-- I have work meetings the Monday after we return to Norway. I wonder how all the other passengers have coped with the ferry "irregularities." I guess we ended up with good bad luck. Our landlord told us that he received about 20 calls right after we phoned.
Today we set out today about 40 minutes late, after loading the car in wind and rain. There was room for a bike that I had disassembled-- in the car. During the drive down I suggested we purchase a roof rack. That idea was rounded supported by my wife. I might actually buy it in the Netherlands. Our drive down was mostly rain-- except when we took tours of Norway's countless tunnels. Seriously, they are everywhere. I have no concept how many there are. We stopped and met some friends in Flekkefjord half way to Kristiansand-- where we were to meet our ferry to Denmark.
We arrived at the ferry landing an hour before departure, and were queued up, waiting for it to arrive. We were told that it was running late-- two hours late. There were cars everywhere waiting for ferries. A massive ferry was moored nearby. We were scheduled on an express boat--only 2.5 hours to Denmark. The plan was to spend the night in Denmark, head south through Germany, find a place to spend the night, then roll in to visit our friends in the northern Netherlands sometime on Sunday. It was the perfect plan.
Since the ferry was running late, I suggested we grab a bite downtown Kristiansand, an easy walk within sight of the ferry landing. We checked with the ferry staff, who suggested we return by 18:00- when it was scheduled to arrive (three hours late). We grabbed a bite at a decent restaurant. I was not feeling particularly relaxed, since we had to return to our car by 18:00. Lise was uneasy. She told me she had a bad feeling about the ferry, and wanted to reschedule. I was quite annoyed. I don't get seasick, but I don't do particularly well in big seas. I know that out in the open ocean, waves can easily be larger than houses. I have a system for dealing with it, but it is not something I look forward to. I had been anticipating nasty seas all afternoon, and was ready for them. Waiting until tomorrow was unacceptable. Lise's concerns were compounded by her father, who phoned to voice his worries. He could not have called at a worse time. My reasoning was based on the fact that ferries would not put passengers in danger-- that if it was too rough, the ferries would not be running. My larger concern was that it would be impossible to find a hotel tonight, in the height on tourist season, in southern Norway, on a Friday night. Lise's concerns were about Julian, that if the ferry was already late, it would arrive even later--- would definitely not be some express 2.5 hour trip, but could easily be twice that. That could put us in Denmark at midnight.
As we walked back toward the ferry landing, essentially arguing about what to do, Lise said she just wanted to drop in and ask about the delays. It turned out to be the best thing she could have done. We found out that our ferry was canceled. It had been decided for us. The next ferry was scheduled for 10pm- but there was no guarantee that would depart. She rebooked on a morning ferry. When we arrived at the landing, I realized that all the cars queued up for the other ferry line were still there--- they had canceled all ships. As we approached our car, we saw our Color Line ferry pull in. Everyone in our queue entered their cars, anticipating they would leave soon. We knew better. I managed to wiggle out of our parking spot. We were in one of the few spots where it was even possible to escape, since most lines allowed no such room. I managed to drive against a one-way street and leave the endless wait behind. No one was updating any of the drivers waiting to leave. We were free.
We pulled into a nearby parking lot, and Lise immediately started phoning hotels. There were no vacancies anywhere, except a few single bed rooms. After extinguishing our list, I offered to sleep on the floor-- as long as we had somewhere to spend the night. When Lise attempted to recall the hotels, she couldn't even get through. We expanded our quest for shelter to include cabin at campgrounds, and accommodations in neighboring towns. Nothing was available. Julian was upset. I was stressed. Lise phoned a number to a vacation apartment in a nearby town, and found no vacancy. The proprietor mentioned that he had an apartment in Kristiansand that was available. As a coincidence, we were in Kristiansand. We took it. We were given directions as we drove. It was a little strange, it it was our only real option.
We ended up with a very nice apartment-- at a price cheaper than a fancy hotel room. We leave tomorrow at 8:15am. I later found out that the wind around here was 18m/s-- which is very near storm velocities. We are rebooked on a regular massive ferry-- not one of the smaller, express ferries. It will take twice the time--- and I would imagine four times the time to load and unload all the vehicles. At least we have no real timelines. It does raise concerns for our return-- I have work meetings the Monday after we return to Norway. I wonder how all the other passengers have coped with the ferry "irregularities." I guess we ended up with good bad luck. Our landlord told us that he received about 20 calls right after we phoned.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Gladmat
Yesterday we attended the "happy food festival." There were only about one billion people downtown. Miraculously we found a parking place. Julian was a real trooper. Unlike the US, there was no food available on a stick, unless it was meant to be (like on a skewer). Gladmat is a festival like Taste of Minnesota-- only it is actually done with good taste.
Straight Down
Some insane guy is sitting on the ledge. You can literally walk right off the rock if you want--- there are no railings. This is Norway--- your safety is dependent on your own sense of self-preservation.
Long Way Down
Pulpit Rock is just outside Stavanger. It is one of the biggest tourist attractions in Norway. I finally visited with some American friends last week.
The walk up was less strenous than I had anticipated, and took about 90 minutes. It was rather crowded, so there was no point in hurrying.
Pulpit Rock- The Top
It was a bit crowded at the top. It was the first day in almost a week without heavy rain.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Most Millionaires Per Capita?
Norway boasts the most millionaires per capita. Somehow, that really doesn't make me feel any better.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Monday, July 09, 2007
Brain Donor
I purchased a 36 hole high flange track hub in Boston. Last night I disassembled a high flange Record/Fir rim, shined the used spokes and rim, and prepared to relace the wheel today. The flange and width were nearly identical, and I had a very nice set of double-butted DT spokes.
Tonight I started lacing up the wheel. I was through one side of the hub when I realized I had more spoke holes in the rim. I was sold a 32 hole hub. This would not work with a 36 hole rim!
I quickly disassembled a trashed old 105 hub laced to a nice Wobler rim. It was 32 holes- almost the same size as the Fir. I laced up a few rounds, and when I switched from lacing leading to trailing (or is that the other way around) some of the spokes magically were too short, while others were too long. I was completely baffled. I relaced it, in the event I started with the wrong key spoke. Same problem. I checked all the spokes to make sure they were the same length. They were. I tried other lacing options, but nothing worked. It was late. I was vexed.
As I was cleaning up the work area, it occurred to me. These are for a 36 hole hub/rim. There is no way they would work on a 32 hole rim. It was almost too obvious. Now I don't know what I will do. I if need to buy new spokes, I'd rather lace them to a better rim.
Tonight I started lacing up the wheel. I was through one side of the hub when I realized I had more spoke holes in the rim. I was sold a 32 hole hub. This would not work with a 36 hole rim!
I quickly disassembled a trashed old 105 hub laced to a nice Wobler rim. It was 32 holes- almost the same size as the Fir. I laced up a few rounds, and when I switched from lacing leading to trailing (or is that the other way around) some of the spokes magically were too short, while others were too long. I was completely baffled. I relaced it, in the event I started with the wrong key spoke. Same problem. I checked all the spokes to make sure they were the same length. They were. I tried other lacing options, but nothing worked. It was late. I was vexed.
As I was cleaning up the work area, it occurred to me. These are for a 36 hole hub/rim. There is no way they would work on a 32 hole rim. It was almost too obvious. Now I don't know what I will do. I if need to buy new spokes, I'd rather lace them to a better rim.
Saturday, July 07, 2007
Time Trial
We were headed to Kvitsøy today. I wanted to get a ride in, so I decided to ride out to the ferry landing. Lise would drive Julian. The ferry was scheduled to leave at 10:45am. I had a late start today-- my target departure by bike was 9:30. I really had no idea how long it would take to ride there. Last weekend it took 40 minutes to ride out to Randaberg, so I estimated it could take 75 minutes.
I ended up leaving a few minutes late. I was on my fixed gear, and I took the long way around the big hill we live on. It took ten minutes just to reach the football stadium. I was feeling rushed. As I was riding in Mariero, the rear tire felt strange. I pulled over and of course it was flat. I was just thinking how long it had been since I had last flatted. I phoned Lise to tell her that I might miss the ferry. The good news was that the next one left about an hour later. I quickly found the source of the flat- a hole in the tire so large that I could see light through it. I rummaged through a nearby garbage can and used a plastic ice cream bar wrapper to boot it, changed the tube, and was on my way. I was fortunate that I had the Continentals-- I could remove and reinstall the tire without needing any tools- fast and easy.
I was quickly on my way. I spotted a road biker ahead who offered me some motivation to step it up a notch. I chased him down like a rabbit. I quickly threaded my way out of downtown, unsure how far I had to go. It was 10:30- fifteen minutes from departure. It would suck to wait an hour at the ferry landing with nothing to do. If I would miss the ferry, it would be by mere minutes. With seven minutes to go, I noticed that I had 4.6 km to the ferry. If the ferry were late at all, I could make it. I grabbed for my cellphone to call Lise and have her ask if the ferry could wait a minute. People in cars do it all the time-- why not bikes? Then I realized my phone was in the bag- not on the strap. It hardly mattered. As I pulled onto the main road heading to the landing, I suddenly saw Lise in our car. At that point, I realized that I had an extra five minutes- that the ferry actually left at 10:50. She started off by motorpacing me, but on a fixed gear, I quickly spun out. She took off-- if she made it on time, at least she could ask them to wait a minute for me. As I pulled around the corner, the ferry was still visible. I had plenty of time.
I ended up with interesting heart rate data. I came within a few BPM of my maximum, something I am not normally able to do outside of a race. A little extra motivation helps. It only took 1:05- including the tube change. On the way home at 4:30, it was nothing but rain. The nice thing about riding home in the rain is that I would normally avoid riding in the wet, cold weather. However, when it is my only way to get home, I have to ride. Again-- motivation.
I ended up leaving a few minutes late. I was on my fixed gear, and I took the long way around the big hill we live on. It took ten minutes just to reach the football stadium. I was feeling rushed. As I was riding in Mariero, the rear tire felt strange. I pulled over and of course it was flat. I was just thinking how long it had been since I had last flatted. I phoned Lise to tell her that I might miss the ferry. The good news was that the next one left about an hour later. I quickly found the source of the flat- a hole in the tire so large that I could see light through it. I rummaged through a nearby garbage can and used a plastic ice cream bar wrapper to boot it, changed the tube, and was on my way. I was fortunate that I had the Continentals-- I could remove and reinstall the tire without needing any tools- fast and easy.
I was quickly on my way. I spotted a road biker ahead who offered me some motivation to step it up a notch. I chased him down like a rabbit. I quickly threaded my way out of downtown, unsure how far I had to go. It was 10:30- fifteen minutes from departure. It would suck to wait an hour at the ferry landing with nothing to do. If I would miss the ferry, it would be by mere minutes. With seven minutes to go, I noticed that I had 4.6 km to the ferry. If the ferry were late at all, I could make it. I grabbed for my cellphone to call Lise and have her ask if the ferry could wait a minute. People in cars do it all the time-- why not bikes? Then I realized my phone was in the bag- not on the strap. It hardly mattered. As I pulled onto the main road heading to the landing, I suddenly saw Lise in our car. At that point, I realized that I had an extra five minutes- that the ferry actually left at 10:50. She started off by motorpacing me, but on a fixed gear, I quickly spun out. She took off-- if she made it on time, at least she could ask them to wait a minute for me. As I pulled around the corner, the ferry was still visible. I had plenty of time.
I ended up with interesting heart rate data. I came within a few BPM of my maximum, something I am not normally able to do outside of a race. A little extra motivation helps. It only took 1:05- including the tube change. On the way home at 4:30, it was nothing but rain. The nice thing about riding home in the rain is that I would normally avoid riding in the wet, cold weather. However, when it is my only way to get home, I have to ride. Again-- motivation.
Friday, July 06, 2007
Totally Tubular
Our car was in the shop with a bad speed sensor in the antilock brakes. Normally this would not be a big deal, except the speedometer simply does not work. In true BMW fashion, it is an intermittent problem. I tossed Sjur's tubular tires on fixed gear number two and rode it to the auto shop for a test ride. Before leaving I thought I would top off the air. At first I thought the pump was not working, until I realized that Sjur had already pumped them up to some insane pressure-- likely beyond what my gauge could handle. The other night I replaced the bent chainring with a straight 42T. I ran a 17T cog in the rear. It was very easy to spin out, but riding up hills was noticeably easier. I don't know that this would be an everyday setup, but it is certainly more useful than my 14 that has seen no use since moving--- or even the 15.
I dropped the bike off at home-- it was raining again. I took Julian to the hardware store to return the torch, then stopped by the bike shop with my rough Campy/Fir wheel that I was rebuilding with a proper track hub-- as soon as I could have the cog removed. I explained to the shop what was going on with the wheel, and I am quite sure they had never seen a suicide setup before. They had a torch and heated it thoroughly to free the cog-- although it still required considerable effort. Once removed, I could see that some of the aluminum threads were coming out in the hub. The bearings need to be completely rebuilt anyway, and I don't like the idea of using the suicide setup. I will probably toss the freewheel back on, and it can do light duty on Lise's singlespeed. The shop guy didn't charge me a kroner for his effort. I felt a twinge of guilt, but it didn't last long.
During my errands, the car speedometer was not working-- again-- after spending over 2100nok for its repair. We are leaving town Sunday. I do not need any speeding tickets! At least I can estimate 90kph by RPMs and gearing. I regret paying the shop on site. They handed me an invoice, and I could have paid in online-- or rather NOT paid it until it was actually repaired. They shop guy said the replace the right rear sensor. Lets see--- that leaves the left rear now? I had explained the nature of the problem when I dropped it off-- that it sometimes works, sometimes doesn't.
What could cap off a perfect rainy day other than Pluto Nash being shown on TV? Seriously-- what were they thinking? What other movie has a rating of 6% at rottentomatos.com? OK, Battlefield Earth and Ecks vs. Sever fare even worse.
I dropped the bike off at home-- it was raining again. I took Julian to the hardware store to return the torch, then stopped by the bike shop with my rough Campy/Fir wheel that I was rebuilding with a proper track hub-- as soon as I could have the cog removed. I explained to the shop what was going on with the wheel, and I am quite sure they had never seen a suicide setup before. They had a torch and heated it thoroughly to free the cog-- although it still required considerable effort. Once removed, I could see that some of the aluminum threads were coming out in the hub. The bearings need to be completely rebuilt anyway, and I don't like the idea of using the suicide setup. I will probably toss the freewheel back on, and it can do light duty on Lise's singlespeed. The shop guy didn't charge me a kroner for his effort. I felt a twinge of guilt, but it didn't last long.
During my errands, the car speedometer was not working-- again-- after spending over 2100nok for its repair. We are leaving town Sunday. I do not need any speeding tickets! At least I can estimate 90kph by RPMs and gearing. I regret paying the shop on site. They handed me an invoice, and I could have paid in online-- or rather NOT paid it until it was actually repaired. They shop guy said the replace the right rear sensor. Lets see--- that leaves the left rear now? I had explained the nature of the problem when I dropped it off-- that it sometimes works, sometimes doesn't.
What could cap off a perfect rainy day other than Pluto Nash being shown on TV? Seriously-- what were they thinking? What other movie has a rating of 6% at rottentomatos.com? OK, Battlefield Earth and Ecks vs. Sever fare even worse.
Still No Go
OK, I ended up purchasing the creme brulee style torch-- but only because there were no alternatives. So I have the BUTANE torch, but there is no place to buy the butane. For some inexplicable reason, they ship them empty. I am ready to hit the bike shop and have them remove the cog--- and I will return this useless torch. It is a mere child's toy.
I discovered this blog- Bike Snob. Despite its name, it is quite excellent and very well written.
I discovered this blog- Bike Snob. Despite its name, it is quite excellent and very well written.
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
Too Much of a Good Thing
I am rebuilding an old fixed gear for a friend to use when he visits in a week or two. I removed the freewheel from an old high flange Record hub, and tossed a 16t cog on. I cannot find red Loctite anywhere in this town. Sjur came to the rescue by offering red DT Spoke Prep. He claimed it was essentially the same as red Loctite. I was skeptical, but tried it anyway.
I built up the rest of the bike and took it out for a ride a few weeks ago-- when there was a very loud "foam party" in the neighborhood. I discovered the rear hub's bearing were destroyed. In the US I picked up the Formula hub. The flange is similar enough to the Campy that I should be able to simply rebuild the wheel. The other night I began the project. I debated whether I should remove the rim tape, and started loosening one of the spokes. Then I remembered: it would be impossible to remove the cog if I removed the spokes first. I grabbed the chain whip and worked on the cog. It would not budge. For the record, red Spoke Prep is as good as welding it on. I will need to use heat--- either a propane torch (the manly man's method)-- or as a friend suggested, using a creme brulee torch.
I think I will hit the hardware store after work. Lise can use the propane torch for creme brulees--- if it ever comes down to that. Besides, she generally disapproves of kitchen gadgets being used as bicycle tools.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Coming Home
I have been to Boston, San Francisco, back to Boston, and am currently in Halifax. I am so tired. Everything is done. I miss Lise and Julian. I have spent almost three weeks living in hotels. I did manage to pick up a new track hub in Boston-- a decent Formula that actually looks nicer than my current hub. I need to build a rear wheel for a friend who will be visiting in July. I should give Sjur a call--- he is turning into a wheel building guru.
This trip has been fantastic from a business perspective. I will work a week or two, then take a proper vacation. I wish I could snap my fingers and wind up in my bed.
This trip has been fantastic from a business perspective. I will work a week or two, then take a proper vacation. I wish I could snap my fingers and wind up in my bed.
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Back in San Francisco
I think tomorrow is gay pride day in SF. Then again, every day is sort of gay pride day in this city. Who can really tell?
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Back in Boston
After a wonderful weekend home with Lise and Julian, I am back in the US. There was a medical emergency on the plane in the row in front of me, but other than that it was an uneventful flight. I am tired... must sleep.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Prague Photos
The controversy between US Budweiser and Czech Budweiser rages on.
Freaky clock that drew all sorts of spectators each hour. Apparently something was supposed to happen--- but I could never figure out what.
Freaky castle-like building-- with some other buildings built into the lower levels. I half expected witches to fly out of the towers as the sun set.
We stayed a block away from here- in the height of the tourist zone.
Another view of the tower.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
In Prague
I am seeing yet another beautiful European city from the inside of a hotel. Lise sent me a ridiculously cute video of her feeding Julian. It made me miss them even more.
Friday, June 08, 2007
Absurdity
Apologies dear reader, for my lack of posting as of late. My parents spent four weeks visiting. They made it the full term, including travel, with no visits to the emergency room-- which if you know my family, is no mean feat. Even if they are both healthy, as we discovered that a guest can start on fire, and my mother can receive burns extinguishing him during her heroics. But there were no fires this trip. OK, in all fairness, my father was in a walking cast with broken bones to his foot, and my mother used a cane to cope with a bad hip problem. You might say their medical problems were pre-emptive this time.
Monday I travel to Prague. Yesterday my nerves got the best of me, and I decided to call immigration. I am still waiting for my visa renewal. I called the Oslo office. The first person I spoke with said I could not leave the country with a pending application-- and that my application was still with the local police-- after maybe six weeks. Review my passport posts of yore. I called the local office, and was initially told the same thing. She then inquired of my citizenship. Upon hearing that I was American, she said it "shouldn't be a problem." Not exactly my vote of confidence. She then stated that if I submitted proof that I was traveling, they could issue one on the spot. I was on my way.
We dropped my parents off at the airport and headed down to the immigration office, which is really the basement of the police department. I punched the button to grab my queue number in a room full of people at approximately 11am. I pulled number 33. They were serving number 6. After grabbing my photo from the photo both, we decided that I would forego more beautiful weather. I drove Julian and Lise home, and returned to the police station--- on the far side of town. When I arrived, they were serving number 30. I quickly dispensed of formalities and was told to return after 3pm on Friday. I was elated.
Today we stopped by the police station to pick up the passport upstairs at the information desk. I had done this before, and it was in and out. Today there was a line. I drew number 81. They were in the upper 60s with one line open. I went out to the car to tell Lise this would not be a quick wait. It could take five to ten mintues. It was 3pm. There was one line open, and some thug on crutches devouring time. Eventually another line opened. Who were these people, spending their Friday afternoon at the police station? This was the info desk-- not a court room. I just needed to pick up my passport. A Japanese woman who I was seated next to saw my receipt. "Passport?" she asked. We struck up a nice conversation. She told my she lived in Norway for 35 years. I was apalled that she still needed to wait in a line for her visa renewal-- until she told me she had a permanent one and had renewed her passport.
As we spoke, some eastern European looking guy came in, very antsy. He cut in line to ask a question. By this point, Lise had been calling me several times, since we had a ferry to Kvitsøy to catch. I had already suggested that she buy the groceries, but we still had to pick something up at the pharmacy for her grandfather-- although I thought it was only for one of the sheep. This line cutter was really angering me, since it would be a disaster if we missed the ferry. We had to be there by 4:15, since it was the very busy, Friday after work ferry. People were likely already lined up waiting. It isn't a clown ferry that can hold a gazillion cars. I was really getting antsy myself. I contemplated cutting in line to ask if they were serving anyone pressed for time-- but the police officer soon sent this other guy on his way- after about 10 minutes had elapsed. The crutches thug was still hogging the other window.
I was getting stressed. I asked Lise to stop calling, and eventually I left the bench-- some Polish looking guy had entered the building and started pacing. I knew exactly what he was up to. He was going to become another line cutter. I stood up and stood in front of him, where I could see Lise in the parking lot. More importantly, I was blocking him. Eventually we were one number away, which was for the Japanese woman- who was numbered before me. The Polish-looking dude started making his move and approached the window, asking a question. I couldn't help myself- and I said to him, "Hey, I have a ferry to catch. You need to wait your turn. She is next, then me. We only need to pick up our passports." He responded in Norwegian that he only had one question. The Japanese woman who had been waiting over an hour gave me a smile as she hurried to the window. I knew she would be far too polite to confront him. The other guy apologized. The crutches thug was finished at the same moment-- after taking a full hour at the window. I was there and gone in under a minute, with a brand new visa.
We hurried to the ferry, plotting our next move. If we couldn't get our car on, we would drag all of our crap on by foot. Traffic was horrible. Lise had avoided having to stop at the pharmacy. We were much later than we had hoped. As we approached the lines, we saw more than enough room to Kvitsøy (the ferry serves two destinations). It was a miracle. We made it. We probably could have stopped at the pharmacy-- except they were closed. Sometimes things have a way of working out.
Monday I travel to Prague. Yesterday my nerves got the best of me, and I decided to call immigration. I am still waiting for my visa renewal. I called the Oslo office. The first person I spoke with said I could not leave the country with a pending application-- and that my application was still with the local police-- after maybe six weeks. Review my passport posts of yore. I called the local office, and was initially told the same thing. She then inquired of my citizenship. Upon hearing that I was American, she said it "shouldn't be a problem." Not exactly my vote of confidence. She then stated that if I submitted proof that I was traveling, they could issue one on the spot. I was on my way.
We dropped my parents off at the airport and headed down to the immigration office, which is really the basement of the police department. I punched the button to grab my queue number in a room full of people at approximately 11am. I pulled number 33. They were serving number 6. After grabbing my photo from the photo both, we decided that I would forego more beautiful weather. I drove Julian and Lise home, and returned to the police station--- on the far side of town. When I arrived, they were serving number 30. I quickly dispensed of formalities and was told to return after 3pm on Friday. I was elated.
Today we stopped by the police station to pick up the passport upstairs at the information desk. I had done this before, and it was in and out. Today there was a line. I drew number 81. They were in the upper 60s with one line open. I went out to the car to tell Lise this would not be a quick wait. It could take five to ten mintues. It was 3pm. There was one line open, and some thug on crutches devouring time. Eventually another line opened. Who were these people, spending their Friday afternoon at the police station? This was the info desk-- not a court room. I just needed to pick up my passport. A Japanese woman who I was seated next to saw my receipt. "Passport?" she asked. We struck up a nice conversation. She told my she lived in Norway for 35 years. I was apalled that she still needed to wait in a line for her visa renewal-- until she told me she had a permanent one and had renewed her passport.
As we spoke, some eastern European looking guy came in, very antsy. He cut in line to ask a question. By this point, Lise had been calling me several times, since we had a ferry to Kvitsøy to catch. I had already suggested that she buy the groceries, but we still had to pick something up at the pharmacy for her grandfather-- although I thought it was only for one of the sheep. This line cutter was really angering me, since it would be a disaster if we missed the ferry. We had to be there by 4:15, since it was the very busy, Friday after work ferry. People were likely already lined up waiting. It isn't a clown ferry that can hold a gazillion cars. I was really getting antsy myself. I contemplated cutting in line to ask if they were serving anyone pressed for time-- but the police officer soon sent this other guy on his way- after about 10 minutes had elapsed. The crutches thug was still hogging the other window.
I was getting stressed. I asked Lise to stop calling, and eventually I left the bench-- some Polish looking guy had entered the building and started pacing. I knew exactly what he was up to. He was going to become another line cutter. I stood up and stood in front of him, where I could see Lise in the parking lot. More importantly, I was blocking him. Eventually we were one number away, which was for the Japanese woman- who was numbered before me. The Polish-looking dude started making his move and approached the window, asking a question. I couldn't help myself- and I said to him, "Hey, I have a ferry to catch. You need to wait your turn. She is next, then me. We only need to pick up our passports." He responded in Norwegian that he only had one question. The Japanese woman who had been waiting over an hour gave me a smile as she hurried to the window. I knew she would be far too polite to confront him. The other guy apologized. The crutches thug was finished at the same moment-- after taking a full hour at the window. I was there and gone in under a minute, with a brand new visa.
We hurried to the ferry, plotting our next move. If we couldn't get our car on, we would drag all of our crap on by foot. Traffic was horrible. Lise had avoided having to stop at the pharmacy. We were much later than we had hoped. As we approached the lines, we saw more than enough room to Kvitsøy (the ferry serves two destinations). It was a miracle. We made it. We probably could have stopped at the pharmacy-- except they were closed. Sometimes things have a way of working out.
I Don't Know What It Is
But it is a cool image nonetheless. It also shows what perfect weather we had. Warmer than we had in Stavanger this year-- until today. I didn't sleep well in Trondheim-- it never really gets dark.
Not What I Expected
This was a cool "Lutheran Cathedral"- but it appeared that much of it was rebuilt within the last 150 years (even though it was started in the 1100s, or something like that). Anyway, this is not a normal building for Norway.
Sunday, June 03, 2007
Back from Trondheim
We took Julian, my parents, and aunt to Trondheim for a few days. Julian traveled very well. I will post photos later. What was most unusual about this trip was landing back at Sola (the local airport) in the middle of an air show. I half expected to hear cheering when we touched down. One more week off, then back to work-- full blast.
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Pulled Over by the Politi
We spent the day on Kvitsøy with my parents, who arrived last Friday. The last time they were here was five years ago, which was also my first time in Norway. To give us a little more flexibility with transportation, and to service Lise's parents' car, we took their Mazda back on the ferry with us. We were a little nervous that there would not be enough room on the ferry, since we only managed to reserve space for one car. There was enough room, although if there were a few more cars, someone would have been left behind. While on the ferry, Lise's brother called, asking if I could stop by to fix his wireless network. We amended our plan- I would drive the parents' car and stop by her brother's apartment, and Lise would take Julian and my parents home.
As I was leaving the ferry, I noticed a policeman standing on the median, a sight I have never seen before. It looked like he was waving me over. It made no sense-- no one else was being waved over. I made eye contact with him and pointed to myself. He nodded and pointed to pull over behind the police van. I rolled the window down, completely befuddled. I said a mere "hello," prompting him to ask if I spoke any Norwegian. I told him that I spoke a little Norwegian, but interrupted myself trying to wave down Lise as she drove by. He asked me who I was waving at, and I told him. He then asked what car she was driving, and I pointed it out-- she parked ahead of the police car. I was thinking how odd this was-- I was one minute into driving her parents' car, and I am pulled over by the police, less than 30 meters from the ferry.
I asked the officer what was going on. He replied, and I quote him as accurately as possible-- but keep in mind that I think something is slightly lost in his command of the English language. He said, "We received a call that you have been drinking. Have you?" I simply said "no," and he told me I could be on my way. That was that.
In thinking about this further, my theory is that the last car to enter the ferry, that was parked very near me, was inhabited by a very strange couple. As we were parking our car when we drove onto the ferry, we had to fuss with getting Julian out of the car. I noticed a rather trashy-looking couple pull into the last spot. Both were smoking profusely with their windows open. There is no smoking on the ferry. They took a long time to leave the car, and the attracted the attention of the ferry staff, who approached them and spoke to them about something. When we were entering our cars to leave the ferry, I noticed that the woman appeared to have difficulty walking. The thought entered my mind to help her into the car-- but it did not occur to me at the time that she might be intoxicated. My guess is the ferry staff notified the police.
I have no idea what the outcome was. I gained some respect for the police for recognizing they had the wrong person- me- without unnecessarily harassing me. But my run for having never been "pulled over" is now over. Now if only the police will have my approved visa application ready this week.
As I was leaving the ferry, I noticed a policeman standing on the median, a sight I have never seen before. It looked like he was waving me over. It made no sense-- no one else was being waved over. I made eye contact with him and pointed to myself. He nodded and pointed to pull over behind the police van. I rolled the window down, completely befuddled. I said a mere "hello," prompting him to ask if I spoke any Norwegian. I told him that I spoke a little Norwegian, but interrupted myself trying to wave down Lise as she drove by. He asked me who I was waving at, and I told him. He then asked what car she was driving, and I pointed it out-- she parked ahead of the police car. I was thinking how odd this was-- I was one minute into driving her parents' car, and I am pulled over by the police, less than 30 meters from the ferry.
I asked the officer what was going on. He replied, and I quote him as accurately as possible-- but keep in mind that I think something is slightly lost in his command of the English language. He said, "We received a call that you have been drinking. Have you?" I simply said "no," and he told me I could be on my way. That was that.
In thinking about this further, my theory is that the last car to enter the ferry, that was parked very near me, was inhabited by a very strange couple. As we were parking our car when we drove onto the ferry, we had to fuss with getting Julian out of the car. I noticed a rather trashy-looking couple pull into the last spot. Both were smoking profusely with their windows open. There is no smoking on the ferry. They took a long time to leave the car, and the attracted the attention of the ferry staff, who approached them and spoke to them about something. When we were entering our cars to leave the ferry, I noticed that the woman appeared to have difficulty walking. The thought entered my mind to help her into the car-- but it did not occur to me at the time that she might be intoxicated. My guess is the ferry staff notified the police.
I have no idea what the outcome was. I gained some respect for the police for recognizing they had the wrong person- me- without unnecessarily harassing me. But my run for having never been "pulled over" is now over. Now if only the police will have my approved visa application ready this week.
Monday, May 14, 2007
Fixed Gear Norway
I spent about a year and a half with my fixed gear in retirement. I didn't think I could stand the hills. I discovered mountain biking last year, and prefer off-road riding when the weather is bad--- which is often. I managed to bike through the worst of winter, and have been kicking myself for insisting that we found a house on an easy bus route to my work. I have not ridden the bus since we moved here. I would rather bike through the worst Stavanger weather than take the bus. Now that winter is mostly over, I have been rediscovering fixed gear. Besides, it makes commuting to work more of an adventure, and it requires more effort.
A few days ago I was out in the middle of nowhere, taking it easy. I spied a group of cyclists in my mirror, and at an intersection glanced over to see they were from the Stavanger cycling club. I figured they would overtake me. They didn't. They rode right on my wheel for a few miles, making no attempt to pass. As we approached a busy road, where I was turning right, a car with the right of way was almost in the intersection. Without braking, I slowed my pedaling. I probably should have signaled to those behind me, but this was a T-intersection with a car speeding through it. The bike behind me slammed into the rear of my bike. He locked up his wheel, and somehow we both stayed upright. I was a little embarrassed, but it really was not my fault. He was the one drafting some strange wheel.
He asked me if it was a special kind of bike. I gave him a brief rundown. At that point, the rest of his group caught up. I don't know what kind of riding they were up to beforehand, but I wasn't riding very fast. I don't know how this group managed to split up. They took off, and now I was behind them. It was just as well, since there was a major hill coming up in a few miles leading down to Sandnes. They coasted down the hill-- far faster that I could ever hope to on a bike that didn't coast. Eventually they slowed down again, and I passed them and headed home.
As I approached Stavanger, a taxi had the right of way in a roundabout. I slowed my pedaling to time myself. He completely messed up my timing by stopping-- in the roundabout- to wave me through. I wonder if he thought I wasn't stopping. I cannot stop pedaling-- it is just that simple. I had similar problems in the US at four-way stops. I would pedal right to the point of stopping. Drivers do not know how to process this information. So far, I am the only fixed gear rider around-- that I have seen. Now it is time to spread the gospel.
A few days ago I was out in the middle of nowhere, taking it easy. I spied a group of cyclists in my mirror, and at an intersection glanced over to see they were from the Stavanger cycling club. I figured they would overtake me. They didn't. They rode right on my wheel for a few miles, making no attempt to pass. As we approached a busy road, where I was turning right, a car with the right of way was almost in the intersection. Without braking, I slowed my pedaling. I probably should have signaled to those behind me, but this was a T-intersection with a car speeding through it. The bike behind me slammed into the rear of my bike. He locked up his wheel, and somehow we both stayed upright. I was a little embarrassed, but it really was not my fault. He was the one drafting some strange wheel.
He asked me if it was a special kind of bike. I gave him a brief rundown. At that point, the rest of his group caught up. I don't know what kind of riding they were up to beforehand, but I wasn't riding very fast. I don't know how this group managed to split up. They took off, and now I was behind them. It was just as well, since there was a major hill coming up in a few miles leading down to Sandnes. They coasted down the hill-- far faster that I could ever hope to on a bike that didn't coast. Eventually they slowed down again, and I passed them and headed home.
As I approached Stavanger, a taxi had the right of way in a roundabout. I slowed my pedaling to time myself. He completely messed up my timing by stopping-- in the roundabout- to wave me through. I wonder if he thought I wasn't stopping. I cannot stop pedaling-- it is just that simple. I had similar problems in the US at four-way stops. I would pedal right to the point of stopping. Drivers do not know how to process this information. So far, I am the only fixed gear rider around-- that I have seen. Now it is time to spread the gospel.
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Updates
I am probably starting to sound like I am obsessed. This is turning out exactly like I thought it would. The 24 year old driver is being charged (she was driving under the influence, BTW)-- but she was released yesterday. I am sure she will end up doing some time, and it sounds like she is pleading guilty.
What I do not understand is, if it is so important to chase her for driving an unregistered vehicle, and she has shown a clear disregard for the law by fleeing, and a disregard for public safety by driving on this road and killing someone, why the hell are they releasing her after one day? The legal system is ridiculously lenient in Norway.
On a better note, the community is considering closing the road to vehicles, and it is still front page news in the media.
What I do not understand is, if it is so important to chase her for driving an unregistered vehicle, and she has shown a clear disregard for the law by fleeing, and a disregard for public safety by driving on this road and killing someone, why the hell are they releasing her after one day? The legal system is ridiculously lenient in Norway.
On a better note, the community is considering closing the road to vehicles, and it is still front page news in the media.
Follow-Up
You cannot win. A kid was hit by a bicyclist and injured. It looks like a strange story. A female cyclist struck a four year old. She stopped and asked if they were OK. The mother said they were fine. She took off and was on her way. The kid was injured worse than originally thought and they took him to the hospital. For some reason, the police want to speak to the bicyclist. I wonder if they pay this much attention when a driver injures a cyclist? The transportation policy around here is to build bike paths that are separated from the lanes of motorized traffic. In the US, we would call them sidewalks. We all know how safe that is.
On a better note, the authorities are already looking into adding speed bumps and reducing speed along Jåttåveien, the stretch of road where the fatal accident occurred. It is about time. In another article in yesterday's paper, a resident of the area cited how many accidents have occurred on that road.
On a better note, the authorities are already looking into adding speed bumps and reducing speed along Jåttåveien, the stretch of road where the fatal accident occurred. It is about time. In another article in yesterday's paper, a resident of the area cited how many accidents have occurred on that road.
Friday, April 27, 2007
Thinking this Through
I must have seen at least 50 bicycle commuters today. I rode by the accident scene. There it was gruesome-- with paint markings on the road, a destroyed stone fence, patches of sawdust collecting some sort of liquid. It was in stark contrast to the sunny, warmish weather. There were people everywhere on this bicycle superhighway. Life goes on.
On reflection, it angered me that the police chased a driver that committed the grievous offense of driving without plates. This was no felony, no murder, no NOKAS case. Chase was given over what is effectively a sidewalk-- a road restricted from through traffic, except by buses. In the US, many jurisdictions have put extreme restrictions on high speed chases-- regardless of the original crime committed. These things rarely end well.
On reflection, it angered me that the police chased a driver that committed the grievous offense of driving without plates. This was no felony, no murder, no NOKAS case. Chase was given over what is effectively a sidewalk-- a road restricted from through traffic, except by buses. In the US, many jurisdictions have put extreme restrictions on high speed chases-- regardless of the original crime committed. These things rarely end well.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
A Little Freaked Out
This morning looked to be a beautiful day. On a whim I decided it would be a good day to renew my residency visa, so I drove to the police station. I arrived about 8:15. The office opened at 8. They were on number 54. I drew number 76. There was one window open. It looked to be a long wait. At nine, another window opened, and things started moving. I ended up at work around 10am.
I left work around the usual time, and drove home. The weather was amazing--- warm, sunny. Everyone was out. I regretted driving, but it was just as well-- we had a meeting at the church to discuss Julian's upcoming baptism at 5:30. Things would be a little rushed. As Lise finished preparing dinner, I glanced at an article in the paper about bicycle helmets, accidents, and bike fatalities. Since 2004, there had been only one fatality in southern Rogaland. I mentioned that fact to Lise with a twinge of sadness-- we knew who he was: the father of a close friend who was killed soon after we moved to Norway. Still, there was something reassuring about the rarity of serious bike accidents.
Later that evening, Lise came downstairs after reading the news on the internet, and said something about how that one fatality was now two. In today's online local news was the story of two women in a car, chased by police, who struck two women biking-- killing one of them. The accident occurred around 3:30pm. What sickened us both is that is the route I take to and from work. That is a road Lise walks Julian. It is a road that I see full of kids walking and biking to school every morning--- a road where through motorized traffic is forbidden-- although during rush hour it can be well-traveled with little consequence. It was a head-on collision-- another unexpected element to the tragedy.
I don't regard biking around here as a particularly dangerous activity, but I guess that all bets are off if there is a police chase. In some regards, it is like being struck by lightening. My only wish is that the criminal justice system were more focused on punishment for these sorts of crimes. Norway tends to be quite soft on crime. It truly was a good day not to bike home from work.
I left work around the usual time, and drove home. The weather was amazing--- warm, sunny. Everyone was out. I regretted driving, but it was just as well-- we had a meeting at the church to discuss Julian's upcoming baptism at 5:30. Things would be a little rushed. As Lise finished preparing dinner, I glanced at an article in the paper about bicycle helmets, accidents, and bike fatalities. Since 2004, there had been only one fatality in southern Rogaland. I mentioned that fact to Lise with a twinge of sadness-- we knew who he was: the father of a close friend who was killed soon after we moved to Norway. Still, there was something reassuring about the rarity of serious bike accidents.
Later that evening, Lise came downstairs after reading the news on the internet, and said something about how that one fatality was now two. In today's online local news was the story of two women in a car, chased by police, who struck two women biking-- killing one of them. The accident occurred around 3:30pm. What sickened us both is that is the route I take to and from work. That is a road Lise walks Julian. It is a road that I see full of kids walking and biking to school every morning--- a road where through motorized traffic is forbidden-- although during rush hour it can be well-traveled with little consequence. It was a head-on collision-- another unexpected element to the tragedy.
I don't regard biking around here as a particularly dangerous activity, but I guess that all bets are off if there is a police chase. In some regards, it is like being struck by lightening. My only wish is that the criminal justice system were more focused on punishment for these sorts of crimes. Norway tends to be quite soft on crime. It truly was a good day not to bike home from work.
Friday, April 20, 2007
Week in Review
It has been a busy week. I have made a concerted effort to spend more time with Julian during the limited time when he is awake in the evening. He has been going to bed earlier and earlier each night. I biked to work all week. Early in the week, the weather was quite decent, and there was actually a line to use the showers-- and we have three of them. It motivated me to leave earlier as the week progressed.
Tuesday I discovered another flat tire-- after work. It was the rear again. This time is was a large piece of embedded glass. Hopefully my tire karma is paid in full for a while. Thursday afternoon and Friday morning I saw snow. A few days earlier I was biking in shorts and short sleeves. This morning, with the wind, it was as cold as it has ever been this winter. Hopefully we have winter paid off in full, as well.
Tuesday I discovered another flat tire-- after work. It was the rear again. This time is was a large piece of embedded glass. Hopefully my tire karma is paid in full for a while. Thursday afternoon and Friday morning I saw snow. A few days earlier I was biking in shorts and short sleeves. This morning, with the wind, it was as cold as it has ever been this winter. Hopefully we have winter paid off in full, as well.
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Brann! Brann!
The doorbell rang shortly after dinner. Lise was with Julian, so I went down to see what was going on. It was one of the neighbor kids from down the street selling raffle tickets to fundraise for his football club. I ended up buying one. Someday Julian will be in the same situation. Besides, this kid lives down the street. He received bonus points for being easy to understand. Lise gave me a hard time, since she had declined a few offers, and said there have been two or three other people who have stopped by the past few days. These others were not from the neighborhood, and were raising money for dubious causes.
A little later in the evening, the doorbell rang several times in rapid succession. I was thinking there is no way I will buy from someone that rude. When I made it downstairs, I saw an adult woman at the neighbors across the street, on the cell phone, yelling at me in Norwegian, "fire! fire!" She asked me to get some water, so I filled a bucket and followed her up the hill as she spoke the the fire department. I could not see or smell any smoke, but I followed her anyway. At the top of the hill, I could see smoke. As we walked through some brush, I saw the fire. There was no way that a few buckets were going to make much of a difference. There was probably an acre of wildfire, spreading in a circle. The woman and another neighbor started beating the fire out with some scrap lumber they found. I went back for more water. By the time I returned, which was a few minutes, the fire department had already arrived. By this time, there were all sorts of neighbors out. I felt ridiculous with two buckets. The fire crew took care of everything in a few minutes.
My guess is that some kids started the fire. One neighbor thought that the sun could have started it by shining through some broken glass, but I found that idea to be far-fetched and rather naive. I don't think any houses were really threatened by the fire, although they could have been if it gained strength or if it went unnoticed for much longer. All in all, it was like a block party-- a great way to meet neighbors I haven't met before.
A little later in the evening, the doorbell rang several times in rapid succession. I was thinking there is no way I will buy from someone that rude. When I made it downstairs, I saw an adult woman at the neighbors across the street, on the cell phone, yelling at me in Norwegian, "fire! fire!" She asked me to get some water, so I filled a bucket and followed her up the hill as she spoke the the fire department. I could not see or smell any smoke, but I followed her anyway. At the top of the hill, I could see smoke. As we walked through some brush, I saw the fire. There was no way that a few buckets were going to make much of a difference. There was probably an acre of wildfire, spreading in a circle. The woman and another neighbor started beating the fire out with some scrap lumber they found. I went back for more water. By the time I returned, which was a few minutes, the fire department had already arrived. By this time, there were all sorts of neighbors out. I felt ridiculous with two buckets. The fire crew took care of everything in a few minutes.
My guess is that some kids started the fire. One neighbor thought that the sun could have started it by shining through some broken glass, but I found that idea to be far-fetched and rather naive. I don't think any houses were really threatened by the fire, although they could have been if it gained strength or if it went unnoticed for much longer. All in all, it was like a block party-- a great way to meet neighbors I haven't met before.
Happiness is a New Wireless Router
I have been having issues with my wireless internet. This morning I could not access the internet at all from my laptop, so I tried the wired connection up in the loft. Nothing. This defied logic. I could not even see the wireless option, so something was amiss. I looked at the router, and none of the lights were on. I checked the power connection, everything appeared to be connected. I wiggled the wall wart power cable-- no shorts. I pulled out my multitester to see if any juice was passing through the power converter, but I couldn't register anything--- the plug was very thin, and I chalked it up to poor contact.
Here was my dilemma: this was a little over a year old-- and maybe under warranty. I did not know if the router was fried, or if the power supply was bad. It was on odd plug and 4.5 v-- very non-standard. I had nothing to test it. I bagged it all up and headed to the Elkjop, where I had purchased it. The computer repair station was closed, and the sales floor had no unboxed units I could use for testing. I decided to just buy a new one. As I searched the box for its warranty info, I noticed that I had a lifetime warranty. I am sure that means I have to send it in, and would be without one for an indeterminate time. The trouble is, both IP phones require the router, and all of our internet connections go through it. My plan was to return the new one to the store if it was only a bad power supply.
I arrived home, and tested the old one with the new power supply-- nothing. The router was bad. At least I made the right decision. I hooked up and configured the new router, and plan to have the old one fixed under warranty. I can always sell it. It had me thinking about what a racket a lifetime warranty is on an essential item. On the other hand, I have had very little computer hardware "go bad" on me.
Here was my dilemma: this was a little over a year old-- and maybe under warranty. I did not know if the router was fried, or if the power supply was bad. It was on odd plug and 4.5 v-- very non-standard. I had nothing to test it. I bagged it all up and headed to the Elkjop, where I had purchased it. The computer repair station was closed, and the sales floor had no unboxed units I could use for testing. I decided to just buy a new one. As I searched the box for its warranty info, I noticed that I had a lifetime warranty. I am sure that means I have to send it in, and would be without one for an indeterminate time. The trouble is, both IP phones require the router, and all of our internet connections go through it. My plan was to return the new one to the store if it was only a bad power supply.
I arrived home, and tested the old one with the new power supply-- nothing. The router was bad. At least I made the right decision. I hooked up and configured the new router, and plan to have the old one fixed under warranty. I can always sell it. It had me thinking about what a racket a lifetime warranty is on an essential item. On the other hand, I have had very little computer hardware "go bad" on me.
Beautiful Day
It was 62 degrees today, or something like that. For me, that means shorts and short sleeves and a ride. Back in Minnesota, I would have worn knee warmers and long sleeves. Somehow I have adjusted to the climate here-- although the locals tend to be more bundled up- like wearing jackets. I headed out, thinking I might bike around to Bersagel in a loop, but some random biker guy caught me, and I followed his route for an hour or so, and we had a nice talk. He was a doctor who lives south of Sandnes, and is training to follow the Tour de France this year- practicing for the alps. He knew the elevation of every point on this ride. I had anticipated a quick hour to hour to ninety minute ride, and only had one bottle. I wasn't ready for these thousand foot climbs that he knew about, but it was fine. The weather was great, I was feeling OK, and he was wanting to take it easy. My only worry was my hydration, and he ended up sharing half his extra bottle with me. The best part was to learn of a different route- and this set of roads didn't see much traffic. It felt good to have an extended hard ride, and I feel like an uncaged animal riding the road bike- rather than the slow mountain bike with a heavy backpack carrying my laptop and work gear. Still, I don't think I will be in any condition to race on May 1. My parents will be here for most of May, which will likely rule out the North Sea Race. Just having Julian around makes racing impractical right now, and I am completely OK with that. There actually are more important things in life.
Friday, April 13, 2007
Giving and Taking
Over Easter, every relative we visited had incredible cable or satellite reception. We have been limping along on regular cable since we moved here. To be fair, we started cable with a very basic package before we even had jobs-- we needed internet. Cable internet had a much shorter waiting list than DSL, and our apartment was cabled for fiber optic. Unfortunately, this regular cable, that requires no converter, displays an unbearable amount of artifacts. Easter was the last straw. Life is too short-- and our TV is too good-- to be wasted on regular reception.
I spoke with Lise, or rather bugged her incessantly, about upgrading to a digital cable package. This would also include a DVR box, which we had back in Minneapolis. I viewed it as the greatest invention in the history of mankind-- and it had an added value now that we had Julian. We could always pause a show, or record a show to watch later. Anyway, early this week I called our provider, with the new, but dubious name, Get. We will have extra channels as well- like Discovery, Animal Planet, all the usual US cable channels. I skipped the movie channels. We had too many of those back in the US. All the great HBO shows like the Sopranos, Rome, etc. end up on NRK anyway. So I am happy.
On the other hand, yesterday an alarm company stopped by our house offering security packages. I was at work, and Lise scheduled the rep to stop by when I returned home. I am not a fan of security systems. Sure, we had a break-in a few months ago across the street-- but that was rather random. We basically live on a dead-end street in a rather secluded area- apart from our neighbors. It is secluded in the sense that no one can see into our back door or windows. But we share a wall with a neighbor in a side-by-side house-- although we rarely see those neighbors. It is highly improbable that we would be victims of a burglary.
The other factor working against my interest in alarms is that we lived in the US and never had them. When I first moved to Minneapolis I lived in a bad, bad neighborhood. Our windows were shot out, someone started a car on fire on the street in front of our house, a woman was murdered in our yard, and we had three break-ins within six months. I broke the lease and moved-- without much consequence. I lost some music equipment in the break-ins, but it was insured. I later lost a bike when my storage locker in Uptown was broken into in the apartment building I was living at the time. I experienced a few credit card thefts over the years. Beyond that, I really haven't worried too much about crime. We lived in about as safe a neighborhood as you can find in Minneapolis when we had our house. When we were living downtown, it was protected like a fortress with a private army. Those rentanazis were a bit overzealous, and towed my car out of its reserved parking two weekends in a row, damaging it both times. They were worse than criminals. But out of principle, I do not feel compelled to have a security system living here in Norway.
Despite my attitudes, it seems a huge percent of homeowners have alarm systems. This house had one when we moved in, but we chose not to continue the contract. After the break-in across the street, Lise has been concerned every time we return from being away. I can see her point, but I also know that this feeling will fade over time. But she wanted an alarm for peace of mind. We still have the stickers from the old alarm service on all our doors and windows, but I have come to find out that company no longer exists with that name.
Before the alarm rep arrived, I did some homework online, and was surprised how reasonably priced this company was. We need a few extras, since we have pets, and we do not have a proper phone line. For a few dollars per month, they add in a GSM dialer- like a cell phone, and motion detectors that somehow can ignore pets. The entire system is wireless. The system no longer has the primitive key pad- well it does, for backup, but it also has key chain controllers, like remote entry for cars. They probably use all this gimmickry to appeal to the toy loving male minds, because I was finding the technology the most interesting aspect. With all the travel that I do, and the amount of time that we are beginning to spend away from here on Kvitsøy, it makes some sense to have an alarm. We should also save a little chunk off our homeowner's insurance. Still, I believe the best deterrent are the alarm stickers that we already have... and maybe we could trade our cats in for two large dogs.
I spoke with Lise, or rather bugged her incessantly, about upgrading to a digital cable package. This would also include a DVR box, which we had back in Minneapolis. I viewed it as the greatest invention in the history of mankind-- and it had an added value now that we had Julian. We could always pause a show, or record a show to watch later. Anyway, early this week I called our provider, with the new, but dubious name, Get. We will have extra channels as well- like Discovery, Animal Planet, all the usual US cable channels. I skipped the movie channels. We had too many of those back in the US. All the great HBO shows like the Sopranos, Rome, etc. end up on NRK anyway. So I am happy.
On the other hand, yesterday an alarm company stopped by our house offering security packages. I was at work, and Lise scheduled the rep to stop by when I returned home. I am not a fan of security systems. Sure, we had a break-in a few months ago across the street-- but that was rather random. We basically live on a dead-end street in a rather secluded area- apart from our neighbors. It is secluded in the sense that no one can see into our back door or windows. But we share a wall with a neighbor in a side-by-side house-- although we rarely see those neighbors. It is highly improbable that we would be victims of a burglary.
The other factor working against my interest in alarms is that we lived in the US and never had them. When I first moved to Minneapolis I lived in a bad, bad neighborhood. Our windows were shot out, someone started a car on fire on the street in front of our house, a woman was murdered in our yard, and we had three break-ins within six months. I broke the lease and moved-- without much consequence. I lost some music equipment in the break-ins, but it was insured. I later lost a bike when my storage locker in Uptown was broken into in the apartment building I was living at the time. I experienced a few credit card thefts over the years. Beyond that, I really haven't worried too much about crime. We lived in about as safe a neighborhood as you can find in Minneapolis when we had our house. When we were living downtown, it was protected like a fortress with a private army. Those rentanazis were a bit overzealous, and towed my car out of its reserved parking two weekends in a row, damaging it both times. They were worse than criminals. But out of principle, I do not feel compelled to have a security system living here in Norway.
Despite my attitudes, it seems a huge percent of homeowners have alarm systems. This house had one when we moved in, but we chose not to continue the contract. After the break-in across the street, Lise has been concerned every time we return from being away. I can see her point, but I also know that this feeling will fade over time. But she wanted an alarm for peace of mind. We still have the stickers from the old alarm service on all our doors and windows, but I have come to find out that company no longer exists with that name.
Before the alarm rep arrived, I did some homework online, and was surprised how reasonably priced this company was. We need a few extras, since we have pets, and we do not have a proper phone line. For a few dollars per month, they add in a GSM dialer- like a cell phone, and motion detectors that somehow can ignore pets. The entire system is wireless. The system no longer has the primitive key pad- well it does, for backup, but it also has key chain controllers, like remote entry for cars. They probably use all this gimmickry to appeal to the toy loving male minds, because I was finding the technology the most interesting aspect. With all the travel that I do, and the amount of time that we are beginning to spend away from here on Kvitsøy, it makes some sense to have an alarm. We should also save a little chunk off our homeowner's insurance. Still, I believe the best deterrent are the alarm stickers that we already have... and maybe we could trade our cats in for two large dogs.
Flat Tire
My new slicks already had a flat rear tire. I was severely disappointed in the durability- one commute and a few rides- until I removed it and found the stem was separating from the tube. There will be no patching involved. I ripped the stem out so I would not attempt to reuse it by mistake.
I took the opportunity to tune up the shifting. Derailleurs have always been a mystery to me. I read up at Park Tool, and played around with a few adjustments. I am convinced I have this better tuned than the day I purchased it. We shall see-- in a few minutes as I head off to work.
I worked from home on Wednesday. I seem to have a cold that attacked my ears. I get these once a year. They greatly affect my balance, but I end up with no other symptoms. Yesterday I drove to work. Today I feel much better, although I can feel it a little in my chest. I would almost rather be full-blast sick than have limited symptoms and among the walking. Having half a cold is like being in limbo- and it certainly does not invite any sympathy from others.
I took the opportunity to tune up the shifting. Derailleurs have always been a mystery to me. I read up at Park Tool, and played around with a few adjustments. I am convinced I have this better tuned than the day I purchased it. We shall see-- in a few minutes as I head off to work.
I worked from home on Wednesday. I seem to have a cold that attacked my ears. I get these once a year. They greatly affect my balance, but I end up with no other symptoms. Yesterday I drove to work. Today I feel much better, although I can feel it a little in my chest. I would almost rather be full-blast sick than have limited symptoms and among the walking. Having half a cold is like being in limbo- and it certainly does not invite any sympathy from others.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Viking vs. Rosenborg
Yesterday I went to a soccer game. The stadium is a generous walk away, and considering that there is no parking near the stadium, I hoofed it. In the rain. Lise's brother offered his cousin's season ticket. As I approached the stadium, I saw mobs of people walking to the game. I don't know if they all live in the neighborhood, or if they had to park a few miles away.
We had good seats- meaning that we were out of the rain- unlike the players. I noticed two of Lise's cousins from the other side of the family sitting one row behind us. At "halftime" I bumped into two coworkers- who were attending the game separately. Stavanger can really be a small town sometimes. Football is a strange sport when you attend a live game. Basically, the fans object to any decision in the opposing team's favor-- no matter what. I cannot imagine a worse job than officiating a soccer match. The line judge on our side of the pitch looked exactly like Jim Carey in Me, Myself, and Irene, which lent a comic air to the proceedings.
The game ended in an unsatisfying tie. There was pedestrian gridlock outside the stadium as I left. A new train stop in under construction, and the sidewalks have been rerouted. With the rain, and the construction zone, there was a very muddy mess. It was raining quite hard by this point, and the walk home was all uphill-- literally all uphill for a few miles. I was a tired, wet mess by the time I arrived home. There is something very cool about being able to walk to a pro sporting event. It reminded me very vaguely of living downtown Minneapolis, a few blocks from Target center, and walking to Timberwolf games. Except here, I was walking home through the woods- rather than an urban landscape. It was a good night.
We had good seats- meaning that we were out of the rain- unlike the players. I noticed two of Lise's cousins from the other side of the family sitting one row behind us. At "halftime" I bumped into two coworkers- who were attending the game separately. Stavanger can really be a small town sometimes. Football is a strange sport when you attend a live game. Basically, the fans object to any decision in the opposing team's favor-- no matter what. I cannot imagine a worse job than officiating a soccer match. The line judge on our side of the pitch looked exactly like Jim Carey in Me, Myself, and Irene, which lent a comic air to the proceedings.
The game ended in an unsatisfying tie. There was pedestrian gridlock outside the stadium as I left. A new train stop in under construction, and the sidewalks have been rerouted. With the rain, and the construction zone, there was a very muddy mess. It was raining quite hard by this point, and the walk home was all uphill-- literally all uphill for a few miles. I was a tired, wet mess by the time I arrived home. There is something very cool about being able to walk to a pro sporting event. It reminded me very vaguely of living downtown Minneapolis, a few blocks from Target center, and walking to Timberwolf games. Except here, I was walking home through the woods- rather than an urban landscape. It was a good night.
Sunday, April 08, 2007
Snowing on Easter
It is snowing, on Easter, in Kvitsøy. It never snows here. The weather could not be worse. Now it is raining horizontally.
Friday, April 06, 2007
Wanting a Boat
I was checking at finn.no, and there are almost as many ads for boats as cars. OK, that is a slight exaggeration, but there is an amazing assortment available that are relatively affordable. We live on a peninsula, so it is only fitting that we should have some sort of watercraft. Of course, I grew up as far away from an ocean as you can find on this planet. I know nothing about sailing, boat maintenance, navigation, or the realities of boat ownership. I have this fantasy notion of "boating" to the Mediterranean, but should probably consider that these diesel powered craft have a top speed of maybe 8 knots. That is a speedy 9mph. At that rate, it would "only" take 3 weeks round trip-- and that doesn't even account for the fuel. But at least we could stay in the cramped cabin, providing we could find somewhere to dock.My best guess is that the expense of the boat is only the tip of the iceberg (which is probably not the best metaphor, in this case). All the accessories and maintenance-- and time- probably make this something more than I would bargain for. I guess I have the rest of my life to sort this out. Still, it never hurts to look.
Two Below
It is maybe 30F right now-- below freezing. For all the holidays in Norway, the main problem is that they are all during cold weather. May seventeenth is generally a miserable day. There are no holidays between Pentecost (the end of May) and Christmas. My theory is that Norwegians are so fussy about their vacation time that they wouldn't want to ruin it by overlapping any of it with a holiday. At least the sun is shining today--- which is probably WHY it is so cold.
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
Easter
A few random notes- I am off work until next Tuesday for Easter. This is one of the perks about living in a church state.
I tossed some 1.6" slicks on the extra mountain bike rims. The bike looked silly-- almost like a car with four donut spares. But it was silly fast and silly quiet on pavement and gravel. The reduction in rolling resistance was amazing. I went out for a test ride today. The tires don't have a very nice ride-- these are bullet-proof Continentals with wire beads. They feel more like plastic than rubber. Since I didn't have my laptop with me, I rode down some stairs that had been teasing me for weeks. There is quite a psychological barrier to riding down steps-- my strategy was to have my hands nowhere near the brakes-- and it worked just fine. Now I need to work on riding up.
Julian has been wonderfully entertaining, as always. It is incredible to be able to spend this much time with him. I should probably take more video of him, but I don't want to experience his childhood through a camcorder viewfinder.
Elijah the cat is enthralled with a nature show about bears on NRK. The crazy bear cubs are sledding down the side of a mountain. Nothing is quite as odd as watching a cat watching TV.
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Fever
Last night Julian had a fever. I would rather go to the dentist than watch him go through being that upset again. He was inconsolable-- until we gave him some children's aspirin, and he finally calmed down and fell asleep. He actually cried a tear. It was gut-wrenching. I would not have been as concerned, but he had his first vaccinations today. We were told that fever can be a side-effect, but it only leads me to question what is in the vaccinations. While I am slightly paranoid about such things, I tend to trust the Norwegian government more than the US government. He is back to his normal self today.
Boston
I finally managed to find the time to download the handful of photos I took in the US. The trips are far from vacations. Here is a shot of Boston taken from our hotel. Boston was a much smaller city than I thought it was.
Friday, March 30, 2007
Tromsø 2018?
Tromsø is applying for the Winter Olympics for 2018. Does anyone realize how far north Tromsø is? Then again, by 2018, the only real snow will probably be north of the arctic circle. From late November through late January, the sun doesn't even rise above the horizon. As far north as it is, at least it is warmer than Minnesota in the winter.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Escape from USA
When we were checking in at Logan, the ticketing agent gave me a bit of trouble about returning. My visa expires in a few days, and I have no return ticket to the US. The reason my visa expires is because my passport expires the end of May. On paper, my visa expires in late May as well. I suggested that I still had 3 months as a "tourist"- that no visa is required to travel to Norway. I had looked into all these details before leaving-- and even visited Norwegian immigration twice to make sure there would be no problems.
The woman was very kind. She told me she could be fined $20,000, so she consulted her supervisor. I was not popular with everyone else waiting in line at the counter. Her boss arrived and asked if I had a Norwegian drivers license. He then asked when it expired. He was in disbelief as I showed him that it expired on my 100th birthday. He said it was good enough for him.
On the plane, I decided that I would tell immigration at Schipol that I was traveling for three weeks on business, if asked. I was never asked. The guy looked at me and stamped my passport without a word.
Yesterday I mailed in my re-application. No messing around anymore.
The woman was very kind. She told me she could be fined $20,000, so she consulted her supervisor. I was not popular with everyone else waiting in line at the counter. Her boss arrived and asked if I had a Norwegian drivers license. He then asked when it expired. He was in disbelief as I showed him that it expired on my 100th birthday. He said it was good enough for him.
On the plane, I decided that I would tell immigration at Schipol that I was traveling for three weeks on business, if asked. I was never asked. The guy looked at me and stamped my passport without a word.
Yesterday I mailed in my re-application. No messing around anymore.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Vintage Filtersweep
My mother sent me this photo of me flying a kite, with my brother in front of me, and two unidentified neighbor kids watching. I don't know why I think this photo is so cool-- maybe because it so effortlessly captures childhood in the 70s.I am back in Norway. How quickly this place feels like home again. Flying from Boston to Amsterdam was no worse than flying from LA to Boston. I couldn't make it through three movies-- not enough time.
I have noticed I now watch more movies on planes than anywhere else.
Mini Movie Reviews:
Walk the Line- I don't know what there is to say about the "Man in Black." My grandma liked him, I liked him-- as did all the hipster kids that kept "Ring of Fire" in constant rotation down at the CC club back in the early 90s. As a movie, it was OK-- but most of these types of movies would come off as rather weak if they were not actually "true stories." This was every bit as good (or bad) as that Doors movie.
Night at the Museum- My first thought: Mickie Rooney is still alive?! He would be good to pick up in a death pool. Owen Wilson had possibly the longest cameo in history. It was a fun enough movie, but the obligatory father/son tension was a cliched Hollywood contrivance that I could have done without. This is a perfect film for a semi-conscious intercontinental flight when you are questioning if they are pumping enough oxygen into the cabin.
Deja Vu- I watched the first five minutes, then decided watching a terrorist attack from the comfort of my economy seat in a plane was not a good idea. I skipped it.
Stranger than Fiction- Am I actually warming up to that Ferrell guy? Watching Dustin Hoffman and his coffee and Emma Thompson and her cigarettes are priceless. Maggie Gyllenhaal was perfect in her role. Spoiler alert: of course the movie had to have a happy ending.
The flight from LA to Boston showed Stranger than Fiction AND Talladega Nights-- a veritable Will Ferrell film-fest. I had already seen both.
On the return to Amsterdam, I gave Deja Vu another opportunity after my boss told me how excellent it was. This movie, like all time manipulation films, requires a high suspension of disbelief. The plot was rather artificial. Still, if you can get past that, it was on par with the Hollywood gold standards for time travel.
Casino Royale- OK- I have seen this in a theater before. The point of this review is to highlight how butchered it was-- "edited" for planes. There were parts that were cut out for no apparent reason. This is a Bond flick-- no nudity, no real profanity. Bonds torture scene was left mostly intact, except the part where he taunted his nemesis. The scene where he was drugged and nearly died was completely removed. I do not understand. All the violence was left intact.
X-Men- The Last Stand- I didn't make it through the entire movie, since I ran out of time. I have no idea how it ended. This is the sort of film I would only watch on a plane.
Hotel Television- European hotels seem to have normal cable TV. ALL of the Hiltons and Hyatts where we stayed had some custom "hotel network" that replaced all the normal commercials with commercials for "As Seen on TV" and infomercial type products. It was disturbing-- especially since it resulted in showing the same commercials all the time- like for the Carroll Burnett DVD collection. HBO seemed to rotate the same three movies non-stop: Tranporter 2, 16 Blocks, and the latest episode of Rome. To further complicate matters, the networks seemed to rotate on the same channel. If I fell asleep watching HBO, I awoke to some weepy televangelist. Another note- I quickly forgot how many commercials they show on American TV.
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Travels
I have been too busy to blog or take photos. My camera phone is no longer on speaking terms with my laptop. I am sitting in a bar in an Irvine Hilton. The past week has been surreal. We took a small plane with engine trouble to Raleigh. We had a long meeting, then hurried to the airport to take the milk route to Oakland. This plane stopped in Chicago, Denver, Las Vegas, then Oakland. It was one of Southwest's routes--- we never had to change planes. Fortunately the plane was half full, or it is half empty? Regardless, the burly flight attendant offered use peanuts and crackers on all four legs of the flight. It ceased to be amusing. I had my first experience at Midway airport in Chicago. It is like landing in a soccer field in the middle of a residential neighborhood. I had no idea that a plane could stop so quickly. Helicopters need more landing room. Denver was Denver--- which is nowhere near Denver. Las Vegas was surreal from the air. Oakland was Oakland. It is probably a better spot to land than the San Francisco airport- which looks like a dock sticking out into the bay. After San Francisco we flew to Orange County airport-- across the street from where I sit, amidst an Irani-American event. Literally: only in America.
Friday, March 16, 2007
Boston
I had a nice trip to Amsterdam-- on an exit row. I sat next to a retired Statoil exec who talked my ear off. He was very interesting. He and his wife were on their way to Nice for a month. We had a little glitch when we landed- there was no one waiting at the gate to open the doors. We sat for maybe ten minutes before we could "deplane." I ran a tight schedule, and we had to walk twenty minutes or so to catch our plane to Boston that started boarding before we even landed. We ended up on a NWA airbus with video on demand. I sat next to some strange Swedish woman who sold snowmobile parts. She really wasn't that strange after talking to her a bit. I watched Night at the Museum, Walk the Line, and that movie with Stranger than Fiction. I started watching Deja Vu, but it seemed entirely uncool to watch a movie about terrorism while on a plane. Our flight to Boston was nothing. It is significantly shorter than flying to Minneapolis or points further west. Boston is so small the airport is practically downtown. Good thing I had some US cash-- there are toll roads here.
We ate a feast of Sushi down the street. I am tired. My PC thinks it is 2am. I have meetings in the morning. Must get sleep.
We ate a feast of Sushi down the street. I am tired. My PC thinks it is 2am. I have meetings in the morning. Must get sleep.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Homesick
I haven't even left, and I am missing my family. I don't believe that traveling without them is something I ever really want to be comfortable with. I shortened our trip by a few days so I will return next Monday. This will be a difficult trip in that we are pinning much of the company's future on business in the US. My goal is to build up more resources within the company that I can tap into. I have spent too many evenings working from home, making calls to the US, and organizing travel plans. When I return I will work on a way to balance home and work life. I am in one of those "be careful what you wish for" situations.
In thinking about this, I remember that I wasn't thrilled about returning to work after Julian's birth. It seemed like the wrong thing to do-- yet life goes on. My guess is that I will feel pangs at everything related to his gradual independence. I don't understand parents who take vacations and leave their kids behind. My parents never did that. I vividly remember one summer before I was five when my father was away at graduate school for a few weeks. Of course Julian is too you-- or is he?
Time to finish packing. When I return, it will literally be springtime.
In thinking about this, I remember that I wasn't thrilled about returning to work after Julian's birth. It seemed like the wrong thing to do-- yet life goes on. My guess is that I will feel pangs at everything related to his gradual independence. I don't understand parents who take vacations and leave their kids behind. My parents never did that. I vividly remember one summer before I was five when my father was away at graduate school for a few weeks. Of course Julian is too you-- or is he?
Time to finish packing. When I return, it will literally be springtime.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
American Airline
I need to travel to Raleigh from Boston next week, and AA is the only carrier that can get me there faster than hitchhiking. So I tried ordering flights online. Everything was going well, until I had to enter the billing address. They would not accept "Norway"- it was not in the drop-down box. I believe they had every country in the western hemisphere, but not a single European or Asian option. They are an AIRLINE. Do they not serve travelers?
So I called them. They wanted to add $10 to process it over the phone. They couldn't accept a foreign credit card either. They said I could go to any British Airways counter at an airport. I wasn't going to travel just to buy tickets. Finally I grabbed an old US credit card. I had to guess what the phone numbers were, and I am not convinced I gave the correct billing address, since the statements come here as well. I hindsight, I should have gave them a random US address using my work card.
I won't even mention how the only flight I could get out of Raleigh to San Francisco is on Southwest. It has THREE stops. I wonder... does the final destination count as a stop? It seems all flights by default have at least one stop. Three stops could mean four legs to the flight. I will likely feel released from incarceration when we arrive in glorious Oakland. Now if only the GPS could actually drive the car to hour hotel.
So I called them. They wanted to add $10 to process it over the phone. They couldn't accept a foreign credit card either. They said I could go to any British Airways counter at an airport. I wasn't going to travel just to buy tickets. Finally I grabbed an old US credit card. I had to guess what the phone numbers were, and I am not convinced I gave the correct billing address, since the statements come here as well. I hindsight, I should have gave them a random US address using my work card.
I won't even mention how the only flight I could get out of Raleigh to San Francisco is on Southwest. It has THREE stops. I wonder... does the final destination count as a stop? It seems all flights by default have at least one stop. Three stops could mean four legs to the flight. I will likely feel released from incarceration when we arrive in glorious Oakland. Now if only the GPS could actually drive the car to hour hotel.
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Changing a Battery in a Polar 720
Polar would have you believe you must send their heart rate monitors to a repair shop just to change the battery. At least that is what the owner's manual states. I threw caution to the wind, as mine requires its third battery, and I really do not want to send it off to who knows where. As you can see, the CR 2354 battery could not be more easily accessible. Despite what I read elsewhere on the internet, it does not use a CR 2032. Four small screws hold the watch together. The only risk, aside from ham-fisted mechanical aptitude, is that the HRM is water resistant. Apparently I have not guaranteed that it is properly sealed. But this is out of warranty, and I don't see a repair shop doing much better. Besides, I am not going diving for pearls with this thing. Use this information at your own risk.
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Melsheia
Our weekly weekend getaway took us to Melsheia, where some of the Nokas money is reputed to be buried.
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Motivation
I took a brief break from biking to work. I drove the day before and after the UK trip, which meant all last week was free from biking. Yesterday we had a fierce wind and rain. I drove. This morning was similar weather, but I knew I had no car available to drive. Motivation came from nowhere. The wind was at my back, and I am quite sure that I set a new speed record. Unfortunately my HRM is in need of a new battery, so I have no idea what my time was. I do know that no cars passed me on the back stretch of road. That almost never happens.
I think winter is over. I am thinking of using the wheels with the studded tires to run slicks. I'd like to order tires from the US, but I can't seem to find slicks with a folding bead.
Next week I leave for the US again. I have been very busy with preparing documentation and scheduling meetings. I am thoroughly stressed out. With this trip, March is already gone. This time I will be flying to Boston, then traveling to NYC, then either DC or SC, then to San Francisco and LA. It will be another whirlwind tour. I am seeing more of the US while living abroad than I did when I lived back home. The irony.
I think winter is over. I am thinking of using the wheels with the studded tires to run slicks. I'd like to order tires from the US, but I can't seem to find slicks with a folding bead.
Next week I leave for the US again. I have been very busy with preparing documentation and scheduling meetings. I am thoroughly stressed out. With this trip, March is already gone. This time I will be flying to Boston, then traveling to NYC, then either DC or SC, then to San Francisco and LA. It will be another whirlwind tour. I am seeing more of the US while living abroad than I did when I lived back home. The irony.
Saturday, March 03, 2007
Stavanger Tourism in London?
I couldn't believe it: we saw Stavanger posters all over the tube system- usually right when we came down the escalators. My boss and I really put on a vocal display of how cool the area was for the benefit of anyone nearby. We were actually headed to Heathrow when we spied these.
Haberdasher's Hall
I spotted this guy guarding the entrance to the hall. His sidekick was named "Serve," but taken out of context, it looks much more surreal.
Friday, March 02, 2007
Back From Mirror World
I picked that up from a Gibson novel--- likely due to the English driving on the wrong side of the road. A few key differences that distinguish England from other countries (aside from the driving): heated towel racks. It seems a little cheap by Norway standards, where we like to heat the entire bathroom floor. 200-some volt outlets-- normal enough by European standards, by they insist on using an even bulkier plug-in than continental Europe. Think US oven or electric dryer plug and you have the right idea. To add a bit of a flourish, they like to place on-off switches at every outlet. Funky taxis. There are no others like them. Here in Norway we like our luxury cars. England still uses the old-school looking cabs that are actually quite practical if you have a bunch of luggage.
The trip went well. It was nice to see a little more of England rather than just London. I don't think there are any English people working in the hospitality industry in the entire country. It was a nice trip, but it was great to finally be home.
The trip went well. It was nice to see a little more of England rather than just London. I don't think there are any English people working in the hospitality industry in the entire country. It was a nice trip, but it was great to finally be home.
Monday, February 26, 2007
Homesick Already
I leave for London in the morning. This will be my first work trip since Julian arrived. I miss him already and I haven't even left. This is more difficult than moving to Norway! I will only be away for two nights. I guess this is a good warm-up before leaving for the US for three weeks later in March.
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Wind
This is a bit late, but Thursday is wind night here in Stavanger. Last week was the same situation. I wouldn't notice this sort of thing if it were not for the fact that Friday morning is garbage pickup, and the wind blows the dumpsters all over the street. This Thursday was particularly bad, and the recycling bins, which were not due for pickup, were banging against our bedroom wall all night. I don't sleep particularly well when the wind is howling at 50mph. I think it has to do with my midwest American upbringing where we never had wind for the sake of wind. If we ever had this kind of wind, there was usually a particularly destructive storm attached to it. The other night was dry wind. Wind and only wind. No rain, no thunder, no lightening- nothing but wind. Apparently it was bad enough that they evacuated one of the oil platforms around here. I don't think I would feel any safer in a helicopter under those conditions, but I am guessing that a small boat would feel even worse.
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