I'm sitting here in my office, really enjoying the view. I'm lucky enough, that my daytime job plants my butt in a chair in an office on the third floor with a view facing Mt. Timpanogos. Today, it is snowing. I can't see the mountains and can hardly see the nearby office buildings. It is beautiful. I could stare for hours at it--though that would get me fired and away from this nice office.
My other office, where I do my work for GearReview, is much nicer, though. This morning, before coming in to this office, I was in that one. I was outside, playing--er, working--in the snow. Last night, I took the time to mount some studded tires (these) to my fully rigid mountain bike/commuter in preparation for some early morning "work". It was incredible. Crisp, clear, and no one out. It was only about 21 degrees, which was about 10 degrees warmer than I thought it would be, so I was in a good mood. And, though heavy, those tires are fun in the snow and ice. I really wish I could go back to my other office right now.
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
Monday, December 05, 2005
Search Engines
The hardest job in the world is that of the search engine. Every day another lame website (or, more accurately, 1000 more websites and 100000 more blogs) is (are) added to the internet. Not to mention the changing content on a lot of the existing sites. Most of it is junk, spam, or the tired rantings of some weirdo you'd never feel safe meeting without the security of distance and the anonymity of the internet dividing you. And yet, with those obstacles, people (myself included) expect search engines to be the fastest sites. We expect, somehow to find what we are looking for--even though we don't know ourselves, much less are able to articulate what we want by entering in two or three words in a small text box.
Why do we expect so much from these poor, tired search engines? It really is their own fault: they deliver. They started this bad habit of returning good results when the internet was small and it cost more for people to connect. Back then, everything was slow, so there was less pressure. Now, computers are fast, connections are fast and both are much cheaper. Poor search engines. You must be tired.
And yet, people like me don't ever give them a break. Ever.
For some reason, lately www.google.com comes up slowly on my home connection (purportedly 15mb fiber). Also, searches for me or any of my reviews came up blank. What do I do. Like an ungrateful child, I run off to search.msn.com. Lo and behold, it is fast. In addition, and perhaps the most important part, it returns top ten results for most of my reviews and a search for Jon Sharp yields this blog as the first result. While some may read the first paragraph again and argue that MSN must not be doing a good job at qualifying their results if they return a blog as number 1 (and THIS blog, no less), I'm practically converted to MSN permanently.
Poor search engines. So many years of helping me out and I turn my back on Google at the drop of a hat. Believe me, Google, being slow and tired myself, I can sympathize.
Why do we expect so much from these poor, tired search engines? It really is their own fault: they deliver. They started this bad habit of returning good results when the internet was small and it cost more for people to connect. Back then, everything was slow, so there was less pressure. Now, computers are fast, connections are fast and both are much cheaper. Poor search engines. You must be tired.
And yet, people like me don't ever give them a break. Ever.
For some reason, lately www.google.com comes up slowly on my home connection (purportedly 15mb fiber). Also, searches for me or any of my reviews came up blank. What do I do. Like an ungrateful child, I run off to search.msn.com. Lo and behold, it is fast. In addition, and perhaps the most important part, it returns top ten results for most of my reviews and a search for Jon Sharp yields this blog as the first result. While some may read the first paragraph again and argue that MSN must not be doing a good job at qualifying their results if they return a blog as number 1 (and THIS blog, no less), I'm practically converted to MSN permanently.
Poor search engines. So many years of helping me out and I turn my back on Google at the drop of a hat. Believe me, Google, being slow and tired myself, I can sympathize.
Wednesday, November 02, 2005
Roof racks ... the memories come flooding back
The Fat Cyclist asked for tales of woe regarding car racks. Here's mine:
I was going to BYU, and my brother and friend were living in Oregon. We had this great plan to drive to Mexico to go mountain biking. It was going to be an epic trip. My job was to drive myself and my bike from Utah to California to meet up with them before heading on. I had my bike on top of my car (you all know where this is going) and all my gear packed and I was heading out of the parking lot. Just as I was pulling out, I remembered that in the below-ground parking lot, in my apartment storage facility, I had left my sleeping bag. No problem, I slammed it in reverse and headed down the super steep ramp to the underground parking.
Crunch, scrape...
The car and rack took most of the force. I think I needed a new saddle and seatpost, and my Marzocchi Atom 80 didn't line up at the drop-outs like it used to--but not enough to stop me from using it. All four doors of the car (an 88 Honda Accord) were pried away from the roof, and the roof was dented on the four corners pretty well. It also did a number to my hood on which the mangled tangle of roof rack and bike landed. I was going way too fast to stop when I hit.
Besides the repair costs, we didn't go on the trip. In fact, we never made that trip. I'd like to say I learned my lesson, but when returning to school after a summer break (driving from Oregon to Utah with the bike on top really jogs the memory of a bike out of your mind) I was excited to see one of the coveted under-the-apartment parking spots open (different complex). Again, as was my driving style back in the day, I pulled in so quickly as to knock my bike right off the rack (same bike) before I realized what happened. I remember being embarrassed more than anything (for the bike, it was old hat), so I quickly scooped up the remains before anyone came out to see what the sound of scraping metal and concrete came from. At this point, my rack was loose enough (see previous accident above) that it really didn't damage my bike too much--mostly the bar-ends and, once again, the fork (which now resides on my wife's cob-web-adorned bike).
I still have a roof rack. I actually put my garage door opener in the back seat when I leave (and on extended trips, I put something in my garage in the way, preventing me from being able to pull in without getting out of my car and moving said item). I won't tell you how many times or how often moving the garage door opener has saved my bike/car.
I was going to BYU, and my brother and friend were living in Oregon. We had this great plan to drive to Mexico to go mountain biking. It was going to be an epic trip. My job was to drive myself and my bike from Utah to California to meet up with them before heading on. I had my bike on top of my car (you all know where this is going) and all my gear packed and I was heading out of the parking lot. Just as I was pulling out, I remembered that in the below-ground parking lot, in my apartment storage facility, I had left my sleeping bag. No problem, I slammed it in reverse and headed down the super steep ramp to the underground parking.
Crunch, scrape...
The car and rack took most of the force. I think I needed a new saddle and seatpost, and my Marzocchi Atom 80 didn't line up at the drop-outs like it used to--but not enough to stop me from using it. All four doors of the car (an 88 Honda Accord) were pried away from the roof, and the roof was dented on the four corners pretty well. It also did a number to my hood on which the mangled tangle of roof rack and bike landed. I was going way too fast to stop when I hit.
Besides the repair costs, we didn't go on the trip. In fact, we never made that trip. I'd like to say I learned my lesson, but when returning to school after a summer break (driving from Oregon to Utah with the bike on top really jogs the memory of a bike out of your mind) I was excited to see one of the coveted under-the-apartment parking spots open (different complex). Again, as was my driving style back in the day, I pulled in so quickly as to knock my bike right off the rack (same bike) before I realized what happened. I remember being embarrassed more than anything (for the bike, it was old hat), so I quickly scooped up the remains before anyone came out to see what the sound of scraping metal and concrete came from. At this point, my rack was loose enough (see previous accident above) that it really didn't damage my bike too much--mostly the bar-ends and, once again, the fork (which now resides on my wife's cob-web-adorned bike).
I still have a roof rack. I actually put my garage door opener in the back seat when I leave (and on extended trips, I put something in my garage in the way, preventing me from being able to pull in without getting out of my car and moving said item). I won't tell you how many times or how often moving the garage door opener has saved my bike/car.
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
HRMs aren't good for me.
The only thing I really use my HRM (Heart Rate Monitor) for is to tell me how many calories I burn during a ride. (Well, occationally, I'll look at my current heart rate to determine if I'm working hard enough, but that's rare.) This morning, my 34 mile ride burned over 2800 kcals, according to my HRM. Good? No. Bad.
Very very bad.
Every year on Halloween, my work has trick-or-treating for the children of all the workers. Naturally, this being the day after, there's a bit of candy lying around here and there. When I walked in to work this morning, I was hungry (I also skipped breakfast) and saw all those "fun size" candy bars here and there in the office with plenty of people trying to get rid of them. I thought, hey, I just burned 2800 calories, I can handle a few tiny candy bars. Yes, a few probably would have been fine. Would 15 be fine?
No, 15 is bad.
I can tell you that without even stepping on a scale.
Ugh... stupid HRM.
Very very bad.
Every year on Halloween, my work has trick-or-treating for the children of all the workers. Naturally, this being the day after, there's a bit of candy lying around here and there. When I walked in to work this morning, I was hungry (I also skipped breakfast) and saw all those "fun size" candy bars here and there in the office with plenty of people trying to get rid of them. I thought, hey, I just burned 2800 calories, I can handle a few tiny candy bars. Yes, a few probably would have been fine. Would 15 be fine?
No, 15 is bad.
I can tell you that without even stepping on a scale.
Ugh... stupid HRM.
Ride Before Dawn
This morning, before 8 am, I went for a 34-mile bike ride. This ride would probably not even be challenging for most, but I'm a wimp, and it was early. However, rather than dwell on how cold it was, and how tired I was (and how tired I'm going to be this afternoon if I don't get some caffeine down me soon), I'd like to list of the top 5 reasons for getting up before dawn and going on a ride. (I was going to do the top ten, but I really couldn't think of that many.)
5. Crisp morning air.
This morning, it was particularly crisp at 35 degrees, but even in the summer, mornings seem clearer. Perhaps this aids in clearing my groggy, early-morning thoughts. There's something about getting your blood pumping and your lungs working that early in the morning. It gives me a better outlook on life.
4. Sets up the day to become a great day.
When I get to work, often things don't go well. Quite often, in fact. On days when I get up early to ride (and I should mention that if I'm going to ride before work, I have to start out in the dark to give me enough time to make it to work), it doesn't matter if work goes poorly because my day has already been great. It has already been a success.
3. Feeling of superiority over those still asleep.
Well, this one really was iffy. I mean, I feel that way sometimes when I ride, and it makes the tough times (cold, wet, tired) easier to bear, but it usually isn't reason enough to get up in the morning. (Those who don't get up usually site sanity as the main counter-point to this one.)
2. Fewer cars on the road.
This doesn't apply so much for off-road, but it is a huge deal for road riding, so I included it at number 2. Accidents on road-bikes generally happen due to cars and bikes trying to share the same space--sometimes the exact same space. Fewer cars = I feel safer and can enjoy the other points mentioned here.
1. Beautiful alpenglow/sunrise.
Honestly, when I am out alone, with no cars around and the sun starts to rise above the mountains (and just before that, when the sky is getting light and the mountains are silhouetted against it) makes any cold air or tired muscles disappear. Today in particular, was incredible. Over the weekend, Mt. Timpanogos has been dusted with snow down to about 8000'. As the sun was rising and caught that snow, highlighting it orange and pink, it was amazing. Though tired at the end of the ride, I would have done it all over again if I could have seen that sunrise over Mt. Timp. again.
5. Crisp morning air.
This morning, it was particularly crisp at 35 degrees, but even in the summer, mornings seem clearer. Perhaps this aids in clearing my groggy, early-morning thoughts. There's something about getting your blood pumping and your lungs working that early in the morning. It gives me a better outlook on life.
4. Sets up the day to become a great day.
When I get to work, often things don't go well. Quite often, in fact. On days when I get up early to ride (and I should mention that if I'm going to ride before work, I have to start out in the dark to give me enough time to make it to work), it doesn't matter if work goes poorly because my day has already been great. It has already been a success.
3. Feeling of superiority over those still asleep.
Well, this one really was iffy. I mean, I feel that way sometimes when I ride, and it makes the tough times (cold, wet, tired) easier to bear, but it usually isn't reason enough to get up in the morning. (Those who don't get up usually site sanity as the main counter-point to this one.)
2. Fewer cars on the road.
This doesn't apply so much for off-road, but it is a huge deal for road riding, so I included it at number 2. Accidents on road-bikes generally happen due to cars and bikes trying to share the same space--sometimes the exact same space. Fewer cars = I feel safer and can enjoy the other points mentioned here.
1. Beautiful alpenglow/sunrise.
Honestly, when I am out alone, with no cars around and the sun starts to rise above the mountains (and just before that, when the sky is getting light and the mountains are silhouetted against it) makes any cold air or tired muscles disappear. Today in particular, was incredible. Over the weekend, Mt. Timpanogos has been dusted with snow down to about 8000'. As the sun was rising and caught that snow, highlighting it orange and pink, it was amazing. Though tired at the end of the ride, I would have done it all over again if I could have seen that sunrise over Mt. Timp. again.
Thursday, October 27, 2005
"Painting != Cycling" or "The Cleansing Power of Cycling"
On a normal Thursday, I'd wake up before the crack of dawn (until the time change on Sunday) and go for a ride. Lately, I've been riding up the canyon--part of which is on a very nice path. This path is nice because a) cars don't drive on it, b) silky smooth pavement, and c) at this time of day, there are no people on it either. Because it has been so dark lately, it has been really quite an experience. There are trees over-shadowing the path. Combine that with the small tunnel of light from my handlebar-mounted Cabeza-Logic and I really feel like I'm flying along through a tunnel with leaves fluttering all around. It is quite fun.
Today, however, I got up and painted. This is reminiscent of the last few days of life-outside-of-work, where I've been spending a good portion of my time painting. Painting isn't really that bad--unless compared against any other activity in the world!
Okay, perhaps it isn't even as bad as all that, but to contrast it against my normal activity of cycling, it sucks.
It is on days like this that I realize that cycling really is a stabilizer in my life. My stresses and projects vary from day-to-day and week-to-week, but no matter what is happening with the rest of my life, cycling is there to wipe the day clean. When I start out the day without a ride, I feel like I still have yesterday's worries like so much soap scum built up on me. Only the power of cycling (*now with extra whitening!*) can clean me off and prepare me for my day.
Which reminds me, yesterday the Fat Cyclist wimped out and drove to work instead of riding. He felt like a schmuck, and asked readers to insult him accordingly. As I've thought about an appropriate insult, I realized that nothing I could say would have a more profound impact on him than the act of actually skipping a ride. He'll remember the day when he was all out-of-sorts and needed the cleansing power of cycling. He'll be unlikely to make that mistake again.
Today, however, I got up and painted. This is reminiscent of the last few days of life-outside-of-work, where I've been spending a good portion of my time painting. Painting isn't really that bad--unless compared against any other activity in the world!
Okay, perhaps it isn't even as bad as all that, but to contrast it against my normal activity of cycling, it sucks.
It is on days like this that I realize that cycling really is a stabilizer in my life. My stresses and projects vary from day-to-day and week-to-week, but no matter what is happening with the rest of my life, cycling is there to wipe the day clean. When I start out the day without a ride, I feel like I still have yesterday's worries like so much soap scum built up on me. Only the power of cycling (*now with extra whitening!*) can clean me off and prepare me for my day.
Which reminds me, yesterday the Fat Cyclist wimped out and drove to work instead of riding. He felt like a schmuck, and asked readers to insult him accordingly. As I've thought about an appropriate insult, I realized that nothing I could say would have a more profound impact on him than the act of actually skipping a ride. He'll remember the day when he was all out-of-sorts and needed the cleansing power of cycling. He'll be unlikely to make that mistake again.
Monday, October 10, 2005
"Don't get cocky!"
I was reminded of a line from Star Wars this weekend. You know the one, Han and Luke are in the little gunner areas in the Millenium Falcon. Luke takes out a ship and starts to celebrate and Han says something like this: "Great shot, kid. Don't get cocky!"
So, when I started out my ride on Saturday (road), my legs were a little stiff, but I felt pretty good. As I turned from a side-road on to a main street, I noticed that there was another cyclist ahead of me. I set out to catch him, thinking there wasn't any way I'd be able to. Before long, I was passing him. I felt pretty good, pretty confident. Then I came to an intersection and had to stop. He caught up to me and started to talk. As we both moved off the line together, he started telling me about the rides he's been on, including the LOTOJA 5 years in a row. He then told me, conversationally, about a really hard ride (for me), that he'd done "half a dozen times this year." He said none of this in arrogance, or showing off, just making conversation. Before we part ways, I found out that he was on his way home from a long ride, with a bunch left to go. Did I mention how much older than me he was? Suddenly, I didn't feel so hot anymore.
Don't get cocky, kid.
So, when I started out my ride on Saturday (road), my legs were a little stiff, but I felt pretty good. As I turned from a side-road on to a main street, I noticed that there was another cyclist ahead of me. I set out to catch him, thinking there wasn't any way I'd be able to. Before long, I was passing him. I felt pretty good, pretty confident. Then I came to an intersection and had to stop. He caught up to me and started to talk. As we both moved off the line together, he started telling me about the rides he's been on, including the LOTOJA 5 years in a row. He then told me, conversationally, about a really hard ride (for me), that he'd done "half a dozen times this year." He said none of this in arrogance, or showing off, just making conversation. Before we part ways, I found out that he was on his way home from a long ride, with a bunch left to go. Did I mention how much older than me he was? Suddenly, I didn't feel so hot anymore.
Don't get cocky, kid.
Thursday, October 06, 2005
Part II: Shimano Dual Control--please don't break on me [though you probably will].
Remember my friend who broke his new dual-control XT shift/brake levers? Well, they broke again. This time while his bike was sitting in the back of a pickup truck with a few other bikes. Wow. I am speechless about this. As it turns out, however, two times is enough to convince him to pony up around $250 to by XT rapid-fire shifters and XT hydraulic brake levers.
Interestingly enough, most of the bikes I rode at the Outdoor Demo at Interbike (the mountain bikes, anyway) were running SRAM X.O shifters. I think the ratio of SRAM to Shimano Dual-Control was something like 5-1 for the bikes I rode. How did I like the new X.0? Well, this isn't a review, but I loved them. Hopefully, you'll see a review on GearReview.com soon.
Interestingly enough, most of the bikes I rode at the Outdoor Demo at Interbike (the mountain bikes, anyway) were running SRAM X.O shifters. I think the ratio of SRAM to Shimano Dual-Control was something like 5-1 for the bikes I rode. How did I like the new X.0? Well, this isn't a review, but I loved them. Hopefully, you'll see a review on GearReview.com soon.
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