Time For a New Camera

My point-and-shoot camera finally broke: the control button is stuck in automatic mode. At first I was a little annoyed by it, but I have been using this camera day in day out for the last four years and it has done its fair share of work. It deserved to be retired. It was time for a new camera.

My first stop was at the Canon website since so far every camera I've owned has been a Canon. Did you know that they have 26 different models of point-and-shoot cameras? To make things worse, they all are pretty much the same; one may have one more scene mode, while another has a faster shutter speed and a third one has different focal lengths. Choosing what I wanted was not going to be easy.

So I went to Facebook and posted on my status that I was looking for a new camera. Comments poured in with suggestions from several friends and made me think of other brands and models. I have never had as many comments on a status as this one. So with their advice in mind I went back to the Canon website and picked the models I wanted.

The next step was to visit a store where I could touch and play with the cameras I had in mind. So off to an electronics mega-store I went and was happy to find out they had the models I was interested on display. Two minutes playing with them was enough for me to decide that I was not going to get either of them: the controls were a little fidgety for my taste.

But I was already at the store, so I decided I might look at other models my friends had recommended and I had vetoed. Wise decision, since two of the models that I discarded only because I thought they were too big to fit in my pocket turned out to not be too big at all (or maybe my pockets are not as small as I thought). They had the one I liked in stock so I left the store with my brand new point and shoot camera.

And, as usual, it was a Canon.

Cocktail Shaker Adventures

Several years ago a couple of friends of mine gave me a cocktail shaker as a gift. We celebrated it the proper way, with a cocktail party where I learned how to make Tequila Sunrises, Cosmopolitans, Martinis and a few other drinks. Since then I usually use it for my occasional (well, more like weekly) Martini.

The cocktail shaker is a classic one, with three parts like in the picture below. For reasons I will never know, one day I found the parts welded together. No matter how much force I applied, I was unable to take them apart. Granted, I am not the strongest man in the world but all my attempts to pry the three pieces apart failed. Turning one into three became my quest and my adventure.

My first attempt was the traditional run the tap hot and let the water pour on the lid. That didn't work, not even after holding it under the tap for five minutes; the three were still one.

My second attempt was a soaking marathon. Filled some tupperware with water, stuck the shaker inside and let it lie there for a whole week, hoping that whatever had glued the parts together would dissolve. When the week was over it was back to the hot water tap with the same result as the first attempt.

Heat and water didn't solve it, so my next step was cold. I stuck the shaker in the fridge overnight and in the morning it was back to the tap. Same result as before, the three were still one.

It was time for drastic, maybe even foolhardy, measures. I filled a pan with water, put it on the stove and stuck the shaker inside, holding it underwater with a wooden spoon. After a few minutes I heard a loud bang and declared partial success: the two halves were separated, though the lid was still attached. The one had become two.

Given the power of boiling water, I decided it was time for one last attempt at separating the lid from the body. Back into the freezer it went, for what was supposed to be a few hours but turned out to be a few days because I completely forgot about it. So, when I remembered, I put another pan with water on the stove and set it to boil.  Got the top half out of the freezer,  grabbed it with oven mittens and stuck the lid in the boiling water. After a minute or so I took it out, dried it with a paper towel and gave it a good twist. Miracle of miracles, the lid came out and the one were again three.

Of course I celebrated this success with a Martini.

Weekend in Monterrey

Sharon and I decided we needed a break from all that is happening around us and booked a weekend at a nice hotel in Monterrey. Sharon got us a suite at the Claremont, a nice room with a balcony and with a nice ocean view. I couldn't wait to get there.

The plan was to leave around 2 pm on Friday, but of course things never work out the way they should. The night before our trip the washer decided to break in the way washers usually break, by overflowing and making our upstairs carpet very, very wet. This meant I spent most of the evening using towels to try and mop up as much water as I could, not very successfully.  Friday I returned home from work with a brand new carpet steam cleaner and used it to soak up the water. It worked beautifully and after a couple of hours of pushing it around I was able to downgrade the carpet's state from "swamp" to "damp."

So by 3:30 we were on the road and after an uneventful trip arrived at our hotel. The front desk person showed us to a very nice suite, including HDTVs in the living room and bedroom, a fireplace and a plush otter on our bed. For a change, the HDTV actually came with HD programming something I had not experienced before in the hotel room. And the view? Well, the picture below shows the view from our room:

And, for the sake of symmetry, this is a picture of our room from the view (our room was the sunny corner on the top floor):

We started our evening by sitting in the patio and enjoying our drinks: a virgin Mary for Sharon and a vodka martini for me. It was a little nippy, but they had outdoor heaters and a fire pit, and we felt downright cozy. Hunger got the best of us eventually and we headed down Cannery Row looking for a place to eat. Ended up at a pleasant family restaurant where I had the jambalaya and Sharon had the stuffed mushrooms.

Saturday we took advantage of the good weather and went down to Carmel to wander around the downtown area. Melissa, our faithful GPS, got us there safely and we spent some time window shopping and ended up doing our favorite activity, hanging out at a coffee shop. Sharon enjoyed a nice cup of coffee and I had what was possibly the worst iced tea ever made.

After that it was time for the obligatory scenic 17-mile drive. I was surprised that I actually had to pay almost ten bucks for the privilege, but did it anyway and enjoyed the experience. We took the inner route, but eventually detoured towards the coast and stopped at Bird Rock to enjoy the waves breaking against the shore. Bird Rock, by the way, has its name because that little rock has dozens of sea lions on it. At least that was the case when we were there.

Then it was back to the hotel so Sharon could get some rest. As for me, I decided to wander around Cannery Row to see what the stores had to offer. The fish and otter-themed souvenirs,  the John Steinbeck memorabilia I can understand; the Elvis stuff, not as much.

The evening was not that good. It was raining and Sharon was not feeling well, so I had dinner by myself at the hotel restaurant. The musician was Brazilian, the waiters attentive and the food undercooked. The merlot I had with dinner was very nice, though.

Sunday was aquarium day. Sharon and I like the aquarium and don't go there often enough. The last time we were there it was for sea horses, this time it was flamingos. It was a small exhibit, intended to get us thinking about global warming (I dislike the name "climate change", seems like we are not willing to face the problem straight on), but enjoyable all the same. And I did get to see them feed the penguins and sharks, the otters, the octopuses and several of my old friends. Sharon is right: if we didn't live so far away it would have been very nice to volunteer there.

Then it was time to go back home. I gambled on 101 being a better choice and lost: a traffic accident near Gilroy made it take 30 minutes for us to cover 4 miles. But then again, I was not in a hurry to get home as I knew that there was a damp carpet waiting for me. Luckily, it turned out that the weekend had taken care of the rest of the carpet drying and I did not see any obvious water damage, so I declared operation carpet-cleaning a success.

And thus ended  the weekend.

Dragging My Tail

About a month ago I finished my instrument rating. I was thinking of taking some time off before my next flying adventure, but decided life is too short, so tailwheel time it is. For those who don't know, planes can be classified in two categories: those that drag their tails on the ground, and those that don't. They all fly the same, but takeoffs, landings and taxiing is different enough between the two types that the FAA decided you need training and an endorsement in your logbook from a qualified instructor to fly the former.

The first step was to talk to my instructor and get a recommendation for a book. He lent me "The Compleat Taildragger," and I read it in about a week. It was actually quite good at explaining what was different from the planes I usually fly and why it was different. It was also a little scary, with its list of all the things that could go wrong. I started wondering if it was worth the effort, but decided that if other pilots can master tailwheel flying, so can I.

The plane I chose to learn to fly in is one of my club's Citabrias. Quite  a different plane from what I've been flying lately, it had only two seats and a joystick instead of a yoke. The instrument panel is somewhat limited too: no attitude indicator, directional gyro or vertical speed indicator.  Add to that the fact that it's body is covered in canvas instead of metal and I had a distinct feeling I was back to flying like in the "good old times."

I met my instructor at the club and he showed me how to prepare the plane for flying. We spent some time discussing the maneuvers we were going to perform and how the plane would behave differently than I was used to. One interesting tidbit was that there wasn't enough space for us and my flight bag, so we ended leaving it behind, locked inside a safety box.

Then it was time for us to limber up and learn to bend in new and original ways in order to get inside the plane. Bend we did, and eventually I found myself in the front seat looking over the nose cowling. I was impressed that I could actually see over the nose and would not need to do S-turns in order to taxi.

Starting the plane was different too: no keys were necessary; all I had to do was press a button. Press the button I did, the engine started and off we went to the warm up area with me holding the joystick back. Taxiing was ok, but I have to say that holding the joystick was an effort. Apparently one side benefit of flying these planes is that it will help me build upper arm strength.

My instructor did the takeoff and we were on our way to the practice area where we did the usual maneuvers in order to get familiarized with the plane's handling: steep turns, slow flight, and stalls. The plane does indeed fly like other planes, though requiring somewhat more right rudder than I'm used to. Working with the joystick was "natural" like my instructor said it would be and performing the maneuvers was straightforward.

After that we went to Tracy airport to practice our landings. My instructor did the first one, with me accompanying him so as to get a feel for attitude and behavior. The next three were mine and they were somewhat bouncy and definitely not smooth, but the plane was able to take off again so, according to the laws of aviation, they were great landings. And after that we went back to Palo Alto where I got my first tailwheel entry on my logbook.

My impressions of flying the Citabria? It does require judicious use of the rudder pedals and the level flying attitude has the nose lower than I expected. The joystick is easy to use, but good trimming is essential if you want to give your arms a rest. Having some of the switches I need behind me was strange, but I had no trouble adjusting to that. As for the instruments, I thought I would miss the directional gyro, but I was wrong: the vertical speed indicator was the one I kept pining for.

All in all it was a good workout and I had a blast. I look forward to my next lesson in a couple of weeks.

Getting My Head in the Clouds

I'm an instrument-rated pilot now. This happened a few days ago, after a grueling almost three-hour long flying experience. No, that's not exactly right. It started four years ago when I had my first instrument lesson. Life got in the way but 70 flying hours later I had my checkride and can now legally fly in clouds.

The test was scheduled to start early in the afternoon which meant I had the whole morning to fret and worry. I got plenty of that done and at 1:30 pm met my examiner at the airport. We dealt with the forms and went on to do the oral examination. I have to say I liked his style. He had me plan a flight and kept asking questions and posing what-if scenarios and discussing alternatives. Other questions were sprinkled throughout this session and eventually he declared himself satisfied and went out to the plane.

It took twenty minutes to fuel and prepare the plane and then we were on our way. Soon after takeoff I was under the hood and having a lot of trouble maintaining the assigned altitude, something I had done without a problem for the past several months. With a little help from the autopilot and some deep breaths to overcome the exam nerves, things slowly became smoother.

On our way to Salinas to shoot our approaches we did a few unusual attitude exercises. I actually enjoy those. You close your eyes, the examiner turns the plane this way ant that and then you are supposed to get it back to the straight and level. In some new planes you can do that by just pressing a button, but in my case I had to do it myself. Straightforward, though I could have added power a little bit sooner in one case.

Our first approach was the ILS-31 at Salinas. It is not a bad approach, but it is a long one. You have to go about 15 miles away from the airport before you are able to turn into the approach and it takes almost forever. But at some point we did turn back, tracked the appropriate radio signals and due to the wonders of modern electronics managed to find our way back to the airport. When I removed my hood the runway was in front of us just like it was supposed to be.

This was followed by a missed approach procedure and holding patterns. The wind pushed me a little off track on the first lap, but by the second one things looked much better and we were ready for our next approach, the VOR-13 at Salinas. We told air traffic control about what we wanted to do and they decided we could do it, but not right then. So they kept us flying in circles for a little while but eventually cleared us for the approach.

This approach turned out to be very much fun. It had a procedure turn, something I had not done in over three years, and my examiner wanted me to do it using a partial panel: no attitude indicator, and no directional gyro. So off we went towards the initial approach fix where the controller assumed we were already on final and asked us to change to the tower frequency. We corrected this notion, turned outbound at the fix and did the approach by the book. By the time I took my hood off we were facing runway 13, but circled around and landed on runway 26.

After landing we taxied back to the runway and took off for our last approach of the day, the GPS-31 at Palo Alto. I was confident about this one, as I had done it five days earlier with my instructor. Plus, we were going to use the autopilot for this one and my job would consist mostly of pressing the right buttons and setting the right dials at the right time. Of course, there is electronics and software involved, so you need to remain watchful as there is no guarantee that pressing the right buttons will make the right things happen. But happen rightly it did and when I removed my hood for the last time we were on a straight in approach for Palo Alto airport, where we landed successfully and taxied back to our parking spot.

With the plane tied down and our stuff stowed away we went back to the examiner's office for the final debriefing. He congratulated me on passing, took my nice, shiny pilot certificate and gave me a shoddy handwritten temporary one in exchange. But the shoddy handwritten temporary one says I am an instrument-rated pilot and I love it!

So that was it. I finally finished something that I started four years ago and about which for the last two and half years I have been saying that I only needed another month to finish. I am feeling giddy still, and every time I look up to see an airplane dashing in and out of clouds I think, "I can do that!"

Waynesburg Vacation

Sharon and I went back to her hometown for a week's worth of rest and recreation. It was my eighth trip there and this time we were staying for nine days. Waynesburg is not a big place with many attractions, so I expected I would run out of things to do and packed accordingly: four books, a Nintendo DS for entertainment and my computer so I could work on my website. The Nintendo DS never left its case, I did not touch a single website file, and most of my reading was done on the flights there and back home. Boy, was I wrong about how busy I'd be.

Like most Californians, we need our morning latte. Waynesburg has no coffee houses (why is a mystery to me since it is a college town), so we'd wake up every day, get dressed, get into our car and drive 24 miles to Morgantowm, WV, for our first cup of coffee of the day. A bit of a drive, but the scenery is nice and the coffee was worth it. To make it even more interesting, at the coffee place I heard someone speaking German with what I thought was an Austrian accent, so I had to chat her up. Turns out she was a Viennese student from the same university I went to when I lived there, who was working as an au pair in Iowa and had taken a break to go visit her boyfriend's family in West Virginia. What a convoluted world!

My brother-in-law took us to Cheat Lake. He keeps a boat there and we all went for a ride, ending up at a nice cove where he anchored the boat and we went for a swim. It was wonderful, just swimming around and floating in the water without having to worry about sharks and killer whales. It was very relaxing, until I started wondering if there were crocodiles were native to that area. I never really notice how much I miss swimming until things like this happen. Then I wish I lived closer to a good beach.


One afternoon I spent being the voice of a pink monkey. We were hanging out with our niece and grand-niece and she had a plush monkey, and we started playing and I still don't know how but I spent the whole afternoon chasing her with the monkey, and talking to her through it. I soon ran out of energy, but neither she nor the monkey did, so by the time we went back to our hotel I was beat.

Got to hang out with my nephew some, and that was fun as usual. There was an evening of playing "little red riding hood and the naked emperor" which is not as naughty as it seems since those were just the characters in a video game called, I believe, "Fairytale Mayhem." Turned out it was very enjoyable going around killing evil loggers.

Oh, and I got Sharon a Kindle. Before the trip she was bemoaning the fact she didn't have time to go to the bookstore to find something to read, so I thought it was the perfect opportunity to surprise her. I went online, ordered the reader and arranged to have it delivered at my sister-in-law's house. Of course things never go according to plan and when we got to Waynesburg there was no Kindle waiting for us, just an email from Amazon telling us they had been delayed in shipping it so they were refunding my shipping fee. They are very efficient, though, and before I could figure out what I wanted to do they had sent me another email saying it had been shipped and the next day it arrived. The look on Sharon's face when she got it was the highlight of the trip for me.

Got to have a few nice meals with the family. Nice omelets at the airport one day, a whole family dinner at Bob Evans, and another nice dinner by Cheat Lake, watching Madison throw bread crumbs for the ducks. On our last night we went to a place Rich discovered: a German restaurant at a golf course in Blacksville, WV. The place was small but the food was tasty and very authentic. I particularly enjoyed my schnitzel with German potato salad. Next time we go to Waynesburg I want to go there again.



There was also that county fair thing, but that is the subject for another blog.

The Greene County Fair

I got to experience a piece of Americana: a real-live county fair like those in the movies, with carnival rides, animal exhibits, arts and crafts exhibits, tractor pulls and blue, red and white ribbons everywhere. I had a blast!

Our (my wife, sister-in-law, niece, great-niece and great-nephew were with us) first stop was the arts and crafts pavilion, where I got to see a wonderful collection of award winning things: there were prizes for several different categories of photos, knit clothes, vegetables and fruits in jars, and much more all arranged in shelf after shelf. I looked for the winning A-line skirt, since Sharon won a first-prize for that in this same county fair when she was fourteen or thereabouts, but unfortunately they were nowhere to be found. It's a pity, since I was planning on pointing the skirt to strangers and inform them that my wife was a previous winner of that exact category.

Prizes for everything!

Some of the photo categories were standard: animals, portraits, action, landscape, etc, and we had the usual subdivision of color vs. black and white. What I found interesting is that they had a category based on photo-size: 4x6, A4 and bigger. I can understand this in the old days, when printing pictures larger than 4x6 was expensive, but in this brave modern digital world with photo printers at home, the size categories no longer make sense to me.

I found this niche where they had the first, second and third prizes for wool and hay. I spent maybe five minutes looking at them trying to figure out what made one first and the other second, but failed miserably at being able to tell them apart. I mean, I knew what was hay and what was wool (the labels helped), but I could not tell what made one pile of wool better than the other. I blame this lack of knowledge on my big city education.



Then we were off to the carnival rides where my grand-niece, fearless as ever while being only two years old, insisted on riding everything in sight. The look of happiness in her face as she tackled the train, the big slide and much more was wonderful to see. Made me wish I was young again so I could ride with her, but many of the rides had a size limit.

One of my sisters-in-law had been waxing rhapsodic about funnel cakes, so when I saw a booth selling them I had to give it a try and Linda decided to join me. The name is a misnomer, the cakes in no way look like funnels, though I am assured that there is a funnel involved somewhere in the cake-making process. Linda and I ended up with what to me looked like random dough on a plate, covered in powdered sugar. It was tasty, it was messy and when I go back to the fair I will have some more.



The main event of the evening was the tractor pull, a competition which an old friend of mine described as "tractors pull a weight until they can't anymore, and it's loud and muddy." That is a very accurate description. There is a little bit more to it, though. The weight that they push is actually one complicated contraption consisting of a platform with wheels on one end and a moving weight on top connected to chains. As the trucks pull the contraption, wheels turn and the chains move the weight forward. At some point the center of gravity moves forward enough that the tractor can't pull the weight anymore and it's over. Whoever goes the furthest wins.



Loud and muddy it might be, but I enjoyed the experience. It is something like a slow motion race with the winner in each category being decided by inches. And yes, there are many categories, from "just come in from the field" tractors to pick up trucks to souped up machines designed and built exclusively for competing. I was particularly fascinated by the contraption the tractors pull. It is an elaborate machine, with its own engine, wheels that can be lowered and raised and a seat and steering wheel. It amazes me that there is enough of a market for tractor pull weights out there that a company would find it profitable to design, build and sell these things. I'm also impressed someone would buy them, as they do not look cheap.

On my second day at the fair I visited the animal pens. Got to see sheep, their award winning wool already removed; cows surrounded by fans gently blowing on them, several and sundry goats, rabbits and horses. Interestingly enough, there was no poultry. There was, however, someone applying what looked like spray paint to the behind of a bull (but was probably an insect repellent).

There was also a bona-fide animal auction with the auctioneer going a mile a minute. Young kids paraded with their 4H-raised sheep, some of them covered in glitter, while people in the audience raised paddles and the auctioneer shouted numbers. He did say a lot of things in between the numbers, but I think it was mostly babble as not a word was intelligible. Still, it was exactly like I'd seen in the movies and I had a ball.

The third day at the fair was dedicated to fair food and a demolition derby. My goal was to tackle the concession stands and eat as much bad food as I could. This turned out to be one hot dog with an unidentified sausage, onions and peppers, french fries smothered in cheese and a diet Coke. There was a plan to add corn dogs, cotton candy and another funnel cake to this mix, but apparently I am no longer 16 and able to eat anything and everything. My stomach made it quite clear that the hot dog and the fries were more than enough.

After the food it was off to the stands where my nephew, my brother-in-law and I enjoyed my first ever demolition derby. This consisted of way too many cars in a muddy field driving in reverse trying to hit other cars until only one was left. There was the occasional fire, at which point the would stop the derby by waving red flags and using lead pipes to whack cars that refused to stop. The firemen would then rush in and foam the car to death. All in all a grand old time, except for the person behind us in the stands who needed and ambulance because of the fair food.



And that was it for my slice of Americana. It was crowded, noisy, dirty and I look forward to doing it again.

Getting to Waynesburg the Fast Way

Last time we went to Waynesburg we flew ourselves there. Took us seven days and it was a blast, visiting friends and new states along the way. This time we decided to do it the fast way, taking the airlines.

Checking in the luggage was fast and the lines at the security checkpoint were small. I was taken aside for an extra search and I think it was not because of my suspicious appearance. My personal theory is that the screeners had a bet going on as to whether what they saw in the X-ray machine were stress balls or hard-boiled eggs. Whoever picked the eggs won.

Getting to our gate one hour early and seeing our plane already there was reassuring. Expedia had listed our flight as being 90% on time and I had been a little worried since we only had an hour window for our connection in Phoenix. I was able to relax, since I was now confident we would make our connection, and went to look for a book for Sharon.

Once we were on board the captain was happy to announce that they had just found a problem with the radio and it would be just fifteen minutes for them to swap it. Fifteen minutes minutes in airline speak apparently is one hour in real world time, and our connection window disappeared with a poof.

They actually made up some of the lost time and we arrived at gate A7 in Phoenix with 15 minutes to spare. Our connecting flight was at gate B26 because the gods only let connecting flights to be at a nearby gate if one of the flights is early. So a mad dash across the airport ensued and I have to say it was tough on Sharon. With her treatment she doesn't have much energy these days, and that dash took a lot out of her. We made it, though, about 30 seconds before they closed the plane's door and sat on the first two available seats.

We took off and were on our way to Pittsburgh. I was concerned, as I was sitting away from Sharon but the very nice passenger next to her offered to change places with me, even trading an aisle seat for a middle one in the process. I wish I could have done something for him in exchange.

Arriving at Pittsburgh was uneventful. Usually we had to deal with thunderstorms (once we had to wait by the gate for 30 minutes because a storm closed the ramp and there was no one to attach the gate to the plane), but this time there were no problems. Even our luggage arrived, something I was not confident was going to happen.

And then, after the car rental agency added fee after fee to our rate, effectively doubling it in the process we were finally on our way to our hotel in Waynesburg. One thing I always enjoy about driving down there, by the way, are the names of the towns. Pennsylvanians come up with really odd names. We saw signs for Canonburg, California, Laboratory and my favorite, Eighty Four. One hour later we were at our hotel, I put Sharon to bad and went to Micky Dees in search of food.

IFR Phase Check

I'm learning how to fly by instruments. It's been a long, slow process often interrupted by that thing we call everyday life. In fact, I recently celebrated two years of "I should be finished in a month."

This week, however, I reached a milestone: my club's IFR phase check. This is not an actual FAA-mandated activity, but my flying club insists on this as part of the learning process. It is a practice test, where you fly with a different instructor who acts as an examiner. The instructor puts you through your paces, makes you do all the things you are required to do in the actual exam and then gives you feedback.

In preparation for the phase check I was assigned a route and some approaches to plan and that's where the fun started. I did not have the appropriate charts, but a quick trip to the Airport Shop should have solved that. Crisis time, however! The store was out of the charts and plates I needed and the new ones were not arriving until after my test. Not a biggie, though: the plates I could download and print from my computer and I was able to borrow a chart from one of my friends.

So the day of the test arrived and I made my way to the airport at the ungodly hour of eight in the morning and met my instructor. We proceeded to the back room for the question and answer session. Half an hour later I had learned that I needed to review my knowledge of charts and the different phases of an instrument approach. I think I would have done better on the chart part if I had borrowed an NOS chart instead of a Jeppesen one: same information, but different symbols than I had studied.

When that was done I went to get the plane ready for our flight only to find out it had a leaking tire. Luckily for me, 172SPs are abundant at our club and we were able to get another one for the flight. So we refuel the plane, do the standard checks and are ready for our flight.

The flight itself was entertaining (and baffling) from the start. Our clearance was "vectors to our final destination" which means air traffic control would point us in the right direction. And point us they did, until they told me to fly straight to the EWTOF waypoint from where I was supposed to start my approach to Salinas. I let the GPS take the best of me and as a result did a really crappy initial leg for the approach, significantly overshooting it. I eventually managed to correct the situation, but not before getting the dreaded 3/4 scale deflection, which meant I would have failed should this have been a real test. I did manage to get it down and stabilized, though, so and we would have been able to land okay.

After that we were off to the missed approach, which they had us do at 6000 feet, so as to keep us out of clouds. I had never done a GPS-based holding pattern before, and fixated on distance from the fix as the way to determine when to turn, forgetting that the to/from flag in the VOR would have worked just fine. This made the two laps around the fix a little bit sloppy and again I did not like my performance.

After that we were off to the VOR/DME approach at Watsonville. The arc was managed properly and so was the approach, though we did not descend past 3000' so as not to get into clouds. I finally began to feel good about my ability to fly IFR.

From Watsonville we went to our last approach, the ILS at Moffett. It starts way, way away over Watsonville, but we flew it without a problem, mostly because we let the autopilot do it. We did take over at some point, when the instructor "failed" the autopilot and the vacuum instruments. Still that approach was ok, within limits and safe.

After that it was back to Palo Alto and the debriefing. The instructor gave me good feedback, pointing out the areas where I needed to work on: some more time with charts, a little bit more fluency with the GPS and more attention to radio work. A little bit of polishing, he said, and I would be ready for my checkride.

So the phase check was a good experience like expected. We identified my weaknesses and came up with a plan to deal with them. So now it's a few more flights with my instructor and then I hope it will be time to go for the gold, or at least a new rating.

Princess Sophia

According to Wikipedia, Araneus diadematus, aka the European Garden Spider is common all across the US. They live in New England, they live in the South, they live in California. Most importantly, they live in our yard; six of them.

Our first European garden spider appeared about two years ago. She was big, golden and had a big cross on her body. We immediately named her Princess Sophia. Princess Sophia would spend her days either hanging upside down in the middle of her web or hiding under a dried out leaf. Just to be sure I went online and made sure of two things: Princess Sophia is not poisonous, and Princess Sophia does not bite.

Princess Sophia's reign ended when we got a letter from our homeowner's association informing us that the outside of our townhouse was going to be repainted. Since sandblasting was involved, I feared for Princess Sophia's life and one day grabbed the leaf she was hiding under and moved her to another part of the garden. We never saw Princess Sophia again.

Just last week I was thinking about Princess Sophia and wondering what happened to her. Did she find a new home? Did she reproduce? I was afraid that we had seen the last of her.

Today I went out to our yard, planning on lying in the hammock and catching up on my Vogue and Vanity Fair (another story for another blog). On the way there I felt a strand from a web on my face. I started looking around and was happy to find it belonged to a small European garden spider. Looking around I saw five more round webs with five more spiders in it. I will not let rational thought interfere, but will assume that these are Princess Sophia's grandchildren.

I will grant them sanctuary in our yard.

Thoughts on the World Cup

As I write this the 2010 FIFA World Cup is still in the group play stage. Not many goals so far, but a few interesting games. I like soccer. I like watching it, I like playing it and am sure I will have a wonderful time with the cup. But this blog is not about the games, just my impressions and feelings around it.

I was not excited about the cup. My Brazilian friends were excited about it, the Brazilian press was excited about, my American friends who lived in Brazil were excited about it. I didn't think I cared. Sharon gave me jerseys for the Brazil and U.S. teams as a birthday gift, but even that did not get me excited.

This all changed two days before the start, though. It felt like suddenly someone had turned my World Cup switch on. I started looking forward toward the games, made sure to set the DVR to record all games and started reading all about the teams. I still don't know what prompted that level of enthusiasm, but I don't care; it's the World Cup and I am cheering.

This is my first hi-def World Cup and I like it! It's not only the better image quality, it's that there is actually more to see. Now, when I see someone kicking the ball I also get to see who the pass is intended for and that makes a difference.

I don't understand the vuvuzela. It makes an unpleasant sound and it seems to be way too loud. Why do people want to sit in a stadium and make this kind of noise? It can't be pleasant for the musicians(?) either! I guess I will have to try it to find out.

I never know who I am going to cheer for during a game. Well, that is not exactly true. Brazil and the U.S. are my teams, and I will definitely always cheer against France, Argentina and Italy (sorry Italy, but I will never be able to forgive Paolo Rossi). As for the other games, I really don't know. I thought I would always go for the underdogs, but as I write this I am watching Spain vs. Switzerland and rooting for the Spaniards (and of course, Switzerland had to score just as I was writing this).

So I guess this is it for World Cup musings. Apparently I am confused, excited, and having a blast.

Alaska Cruise: Victoria and Final Thoughts

The crew is: sorely going to be missed.

The trip from Ketchikan to Victoria was interesting. Thunderstorms, lightning, and waves that made moving around the ship and interesting exercise. The show that night was a collection of pop songs and a lot of dancing. The choreography was not good though, with too much arm waving for my taste. Dinner, however, was excellent.

Despite the waves and the fear that we might fall of the bed in the middle of the night, we slept well. At breakfast the next day we did hear some people complaining about seasickness and being unable to sleep.

Because of the storm, Jean-Claude got to Victoria one hour behind schedule. Not a problem for us, as we had no plans for the town. We had been to Victoria in 2006 and seen what we wanted to see. We actually debated whether to get out of the ship or not, but decided we must visit Canada so we got out and went for a stroll along the shoreline. As a bonus, we got our passports stamped. We had to ask for it, but they were happy to oblige.

We signed up for this wonderful service that would make our luggage disappear from our stateroom and reappear at the baggage claim in San Jose. We would be arriving in Seattle at 8 am and catch the flight back at 3:40 pm, so this way we would be able to wander around town without having to carry two huge suitcases. The only drawback is that the service required our suitcases to be out in the hallway by midnight. So we got back on the ship, packed, put them outside and actually did see them again at the luggage carousel in San Jose.

Not much to report about the next day. We disembarked around 8 and got to immigration, where things went awry. The guard remarked that the picture in my passport showed a full beard, while I had a goatee and he wasn't sure whether he should let me in or not. Granted, he was grinning when he said that, but Sharon immediately declared she was rather fond of me and would much rather they let me in, so he obliged. I should make a note never to travel internationally without Sharon.

We hung around Pike Place Market for a little while, in hopes of again finding the jewelry person Sharon had liked but met with no success. So we got on a cab, headed for the airport and hung around a few hours until we finally boarded our flight home. By 6:30 we were home and the adventure was over.

Did I like cruising? To use Sarah Palin's catch phrase, "You betcha!" I was afraid it was going to be too regimented a vacation, but it did not turn out that way. True that the ship had activities starting at all hours and there were open and close times for getting to the restaurants, but we chose to do things on a "if we felt like it" basis, so things were pretty much unhurried. I also liked the fact we chose open seating for the main restaurant, which meant it was just like going to any other restaurant, though occasionally we were placed on tables with other people. That was nice, though, as it is always fun to get to know people and see if they pass "the test".

The service on board was exceptional. The crew were always smiling, always helpful and went out of their way to make us happy. Our steward, Barkray, always greeted us by name, even when he ran into us in other parts of the ship. There was no tipping involved, which made their friendliness and helpfulness even more impressive.

One cute thing they did was towel origami. Every night we would arrive at our stateroom to find a towel folded in an artistic way. We had a dog, a penguin, an elephant and even an orangutan. It was a fun touch.

As for Alaska, it was impressive. The huge mountains, the wildlife, the snow, all was as promised and expected, without them having to use any special effects to achieve this. I found the glaciers especially interesting, with their color, their shapes and their sounds. I hope I get to revisit this place some day.

Wildlife sightings: none, sniff!

Alaska Cruise: Ketchikan

The crew is: pleasant

We awake with the ship docked at Ketchikan, the Salmon Capital of the world, Alaska's first city, the happiest place on Earth and whatever other title the locals can come up with for their town. It's raining, but apparently with over 150 inches of rain every year, this is par for the course. Our plan today is to take a float plane ride through the Misty Fjords, but with the clouds so low we wonder if it is going to happen. Not a problem, the guide assures us, this kind of weather is par for the course.



So we board a bus that takes us to the docks where we will meet our plane, a De Haviland Beaver built before any of us were born. It looks good, though, and even has a glass cockpit. It seems bush flying is not the adventure it used to be. Another couple flies with us, and Sharon and I end up in the back seats. Not a problem, as we have nice big windows and can enjoy the view just fine from there.

We take off, overfly Ketchikan and head off to the fjords. I don't think we ever climb above 300 ft, but the view is impressive all the same. Ocean, forests, bogs, lakes and waterfalls seem to be everywhere. The most impressive part, however, are the cliffs on both sides, soaring above and making us feel indeed small. The fjords live up to their name, by the way, as we see wisps of clouds all over the place. Misty indeed.



At some point the pilot lands and we get out of the plane, to stand on the floats for a few minutes and enjoy the peace and quiet. Standing on the floats is daunting at first, but we eventually start feeling comfortable and enjoy the spectacular view and quiet. Well, mostly quiet as soon after we land another plane arrives and lands there too. I like planes, so this is definitely not a problem.



All good things must come to an end though, so we get back on board and fly back to the float plane base: different route, but still the same breathtaking view. Interestingly, the downwind leg for our landing was flown over the runway of the Ketchikan airport. After that we turn base into the channel, final along it and land close to our docking pier.

After that we go back to the town for some exploration. By now, unfortunately, we are a little tired and have already explored two other Alaska towns and things are beginning to look the same. The souvenir stores are the same, the jewelry stores are the same, the food is the same. There is one interesting thing, though, and that is the local architecture. Not much flat land on the island, so a good portion of the buildings, including portions of the roads, are built on stilts.

And that's it for Ketchikan. We board the Jean-Claude around the 12:30 deadline and settle in for our last stop, Victoria.

One final note, Ketchikan is where the infamous bridge to nowhere was supposed to be built. And they are kind of right. Other than the airport, there isn't much else there on the adjacent island.

Wildlife sightings: 1 bald eagle.

Pictures can be found here.

Alaska Cruise: Sitka

The crew is: singing

Sitka was the Russian capital of Alaska, a fur trading post, site of many battles between the Tlinkit and the Russians, and, with a population of close to 9 thousand, the 4th largest city in the state. It is also a city without a docking pier for cruise ships. This means we needed to get in one of the ship's tenders in order
to go ashore.



We woke up to find Jean-Claude moored at Sitka and the P.A system announcing the process to go ashore. Apparently it involved entering the right side of the theater if you had no shore excursion or the left side if you had a shore excursion. So we went to have breakfast instead. I had french toast and pineapple juice and was very happy.

By the time we finished breakfast and were ready to go ashore things have sorted themselves out and the instructions became, "go to deck A and get in one of the tenders." Much simpler, and resulted in us being at downtown Sitka by 11 AM.

We had a "nature and history" walking tour scheduled for later in the day, but with a few hours to kill we decided to visit the main church in town, St. Michael's Cathedral. It was a wooden structure housing an Orthodox church (remember, it was a Russian colony) with several Byzantine icons inside. It was by no means big, but had a colorful history, with many of the carvings having been created by the original bishop of that church, as well as a few miracles of its own: icons dropped from the ship showing up ashore, and men carrying unbelievable weights saving candelabra from a fire that gutted the church in 1966.



Learned the nature of the Orthodox cross during this visit. Apparently they believe that the cross with three horizontal lines is a more faithful representation than the Catholic version with only one horizontal line. The two extra lines are supposed to represent the INRI inscription over Christ's head and the part where his feet rested.




This was followed by a visit to the local souvenir shops, where we acquired most of what our friends will be getting: small totem poles, charm bracelets with Alaska pendants, smoked salmon and baseball caps. Four ourselves we bought what we always do, a picture book of the regions we are visiting.

After a stop for food and espresso we joined our waking tour which, curiously enough, started by getting us all inside a bus. We were taken to the Raptor Flight Training Center", part of Alaska's raptor rescue effort where they help all kinds of birds (including, apparently, a humming bird once). We got to tour their facilities and visit a few of their unreleasables, eagles, falcons and owls that are unable to fly due to their injuries. It was an instructive visit, though it seems that way too many birds run into power lines over there.

After the visit to the center the nature part of our tour started, with a walk through the Sitka part of the Tongass National Forest. A beautiful walk leading us to the shoreline, during which we got introduced to Alaska's national tree, the Sitka Spruce, as well as other plants such as the hemlock, huckleberries and others. We also ran into several totem poles which had the interesting property that everyone knew where they came from, but no one knew what the carvings meant.



Eventually we made our way back to civilization and to the history part of the tour, which consisted mostly of showing us the house where the carving bishop lived and pointing out the residences of several friends of our guide, including how much the house was bought or sold for. Beach-front property in that town of 9 thousand apparently goes around for 600 thousand dollars.

And that was it for Sitka. We headed back for our ship and an hour later were sailing to our next destination, Ketchikan, the Salmon Capital of the World.

Wildlife sighted: 2 owls, 4 falcons, 1 golden eagle, 5 bald eagles.

Pictures can be found here.

Alaska Cruise: Glacier Bay

The crew is: folding

This was by far the most spectacular day of the cruise, and we didn't even get off the boat. Glacier Bay is a national park and the ship just goes into it, stopping in different channels for us to enjoy the view.

For us the day started with waking up around 8:00 AM, opening the curtains, stepping into he verandah and enjoying beautiful scenery. Tall snow-capped mountains, evergreen forests, meadows and beaches of shale and pebbles. After a satisfying breakfast, Sharon and I made our way to the aft deck wearing sweaters, coats, gloves and hats to protect us from the 40-50 degree outside temperature. We found chairs, sat down with our cameras and binoculars and began to enjoy the view.



Soon we were seeing small pieces of ice floating in the water, a sure sign we were approaching glaciers. By 10:30 the ship had stopped in front of the Margerie glacier. It was impressive, Big, multi-colored, you could see the whites and blues of the ice and the back and gray of all the rock it brought along with it on its way down to the coast. It looked big, but I bet it would have seemed bigger if we had been able to get closer to it, and not see it from the 8th deck of a cruise-ship.



At some point during our stay a bunch of kayakers showed up, dropping by to enjoy the calving glacier. that gave us a better sense of the size of the behemoth, but they too did not get too close. The park ranger (apparently we picked one up as we entered the park) told us it was over 600 ft thick, which makes it tall indeed.

There was another glacier facing it, the Grand Pacific Glacier. This one is bigger and wider (about tow miles wide), but it is retreating and no longer touches the water. It also looked black because of all of the silt. Had we not been told so, I would not have thought it was a glacier.



Sharon and I went down to our verandah to enjoy the glacier in some privacy. The view was slightly different, but in the silence of our room what really captivated us was the crackling of the glacier as it shifted and moved. There was almost constant noise of something breaking, sometimes close, sometimes far. It gave us hope that we would see some major calving, but we were disappointed in that: we did see several parts break off and plunge into the bay, but none bigger than a person (it's hard to judge, though, given how far away we were).



After one hour Jean Claude started moving again, taking us to see other parts of the bay. We visited two more glaciers. At one of them I saw the most spectacular calving so far, but it was far away and could only be properly enjoyed through the binoculars.

By late afternoon we were on our way to Sitka, our next destination. The show that night was "Songs of the South", performed by the same people who brought us "Love on Broadway." Not my kind of music, but still a fun evening.

Wildlife sightings: 2 bald eagles, 1 brown bear, numerous gulls and puffins.

Pictures can be found here.

Alaska Cruise: Juneau

The crew is: friendly

Woke up inside the Gastineau canal, making our way to Juneau. Snow-capped mountains line both sides of the canal and the view is breath-taking. At this point I have to say, Alaska looks exactly like what you expect it to look and it's spectacular.

Juneau can be seen from afar, surpsinginly small for a state capital. We are told it has a population of 30 thousand and is the third-largest city in the state. We decided to call it the "Rio of the North," based on the fact that we can. Turned out it has a cable car leading to the top of Mt. Roberts, but we did not know that when we made our naming decision.

Our scheduled tour for the day was a helicopter ride to a glacier, where we would land and walk around. We got down to the pier, a little bit anxious to find the meeting point for our group. Guides were standing all over the pier with signs for their tours, but nothing for ours. I started getting nervous; Turns out our guides were running late, but eventually showed up and took us to the heliport, on nearby Douglas Island. Our driver was a transplant from Utah.

Our helicopter pilot, a transplant from Livermore, took us and another couple on a beautiful 20-minute ride over Juneau, We went around Mt. Roberts and Sheep Mt and landed on the Taku glacier. We got out of the helicopter and walked on an actual glacier; a small step for man, but luckily one in which I did not slip and fall. The ground was actually grippy and not slippery like I had expected, so walking was easy. Rivulets ran through it, creating deep crevasses that showed us the blue ice beneath.






One geeky note. On the flight to the glacier I agonized over what amount of exposure compensation to use for all the snow I was expecting to see: +0.5? +1.0? How much would be enough to give us good pictures? All worry in vain, though. The surface of the glacier was mostly a dark gray making underexposure concerns moot.

Our fifteen minutes were over way too fast, but Sharon and I agreed it was the right amount of time. Not including the fact that it was chilly, the other option would have been an one hour stay at the glacier and that seemed just too much. So we got back in the helicopter and after another 15 minutes of beautiful scenery where back at the heliport.

After a reinvigorating espresso we went to the end of town (a 5 minute walk) for our ride up to Mt. Roberts. Turns out that the "Rio of the North" actually does have a cable car leaving for the top of the mountain every five minutes. So we soon found ourselves on top of the mountain, where there was a restaurant, the ever present gift shops and trails going all over the place. After reading the instructions on how to deal with bears (mostly curl up in a ball and pray), we were off to a nice walk that took us through a temperate rain forest, up above the tree line and back to the gift shop, with some nice spots to stop, enjoy the view and catch one's breath along the way. A lot of fun, even though at times it felt like exercise.



At the gift shop we acquired some trinkets, and got to see an actual real Sarah Palin 2011 calendar. Ah, free enterprise!



We made it back to the boat safely and spent the rest of the evening consuming martinis and enjoying the view. The show that night was an Elton John tribute and the entertainer did a credible job of being Elton Johnish. He looked the part, dressed the part , sang the parts and had a very funny shtick going with one of the band members where the guy kep trying to play the tambourine on each and every song.

Wildlife sightings: 7 bald eagles, one humpback whale.

Pictures can be found here.

Alaska Cruise: At Sea

The crew is: Indonesian

We boarded our boat at noon for a 4 PM departure. The cabins were not ready so off we went to the Lido deck of our ship, the Zaandam (from now on referred to as the Jean-Claude). We definitely got introduced to the party atmosphere aboard the boat, with a band playing, people chatting excitedly and waiters bustling about offering beverages.



Jean-Claude is a big boat. It has four restaurants, one cafe, four bars, two theaters, two stores, two swimming pools, two hot tubs, two stores and one casino. The cafe looks especially inviting, with some very comfy chairs in front of big, clear windows. In the cafe they hung a picture of the ship's godmothers: the Olsen twins.

Jean-Claude is also very hygiene conscious. Everywhere on the boat they have hand washing stations, a.k.a. Purell dispensers. There are videos on how to wash your hands, and in the public bathrooms they have signs suggesting you use a clean paper towel to operate the door handles.

After some Alaskan beer (don't ask me what brand, I never found out) we proceeded to the restaurant for some lunch. Long lines, lots of different food choices but nothing spectacular. I ended up getting a soda card, a get 20 for the price of 18 deal kind of thing. Bad decision, which I blame on the Alaskan beer, as there is no way Sharon and I will consume this much soda during the trip.

Eventually the captain announced over the P.A. system that our cabins were ready and we proceeded downstairs. Our cabin is on the 6th floor, port side and has its own verandah with a chaise lounge. a chair, and a small table. Add to it a bed, a sofa, a desk, a TV and a DVD player and we are set. On the bed, by the way, was a present from Expedia: a $50 gift certificate to be converted into a soda, coffee or cocktail card: the cocktail card won.

We spent that afternoon and the whole of the next day exploring the ship and enjoying what it had to offer. There is always something happening: exercise classes, Wii games, trivia contests, classes in using PCs and so on. Sharon and I are lazy folk though, and preferred hanging out at the cafe, reading and enjoying the view.



That night we enjoyed our first on-board show, "Love on Broadway." Four singers and six dancers performed reasonably well. As usual I was impressed with Sharon's theatrical knowledge. We had no program, but Sharon was able to identify all but 3 of the songs. I was impressed, Sharon was disappointed she missed the three.

First night dining involved waiting for over one hour for our table since we did not have reservations. They gave us pagers which allowed us to wander about the ship. Of course, not trusting the system, we wandered only as far as the first bar where I made use of my cocktail card. One vodka martini later we were back at the restaurant's waiting area and entertaining ourselves by judging how "smart casual" the attires of our fellow travelers were. Sharon drew the line at jeans, I though jeans were ok unless they were worn with sneakers. Still, jeans, sneakers and t-shirts must have been ok, because we saw a few of those sitting at the restaurant.

We retired to our room later in the evening, only to find artistically folded towels on our bed; this one looked like an elephant. Apparently it's a ship tradition and they even have a book on how to do it. In the end we got five towel origami animals:







For entertainment, Sharon had a hot stone massage. I wandered around the boat and held my tongue whenever one of the many bands on board asked what the passengers wanted to hear next. I always wanted to reply, "The Morning After."


Wildlife sightings: 4 indeterminate marine mammals.

Pictures can be found here.

Alaska Cruise: Seattle

The crew is: absent

Getting ready for our first cruise, Sharon and I decided to arrive in Seattle one day ahead of or ship's departure date. I'm feeling jazzed about being in Seattle, mostly because it is Sharon's old haunting ground. It will be fun to relive through her stories some of her grad student experiences.

Marc dropped us off at the airport, which led to our first surprise: for a change, I was not feeling anxious. Normally I can only rest once I am sitting at the gate and feel antsy until we get there. This time it was different; we sat at a Starbucks, had coffee and chatted until about 30 minutes before our flight with me actually feeling relaxed. I am sure this feeling will pass.

Getting from the airport to our downtown hotel was trivial, though the limo service ripped us of saying their price was the same as a taxi's. $45 vs. $32 is not the same, but at least they got us to the hotel quickly.

We spent the day in Seattle exploring the two landmarks I've never seen in my previous trips: Pike's Place and the Space Needle. Pike's place was crowded, busy, loud, colorful and smelled of fish. I liked it! It's a mixture of the hippie fair in Rio with an actual farmer's market. We ended up eating there, at a small hole-in-the-wall that served adequate food.







After coffee at the Nordstrom where Sharon used to go for her 25-cent coffee (the place has changed drastically, though) we went on to the Space Needle. True to its World Fair history, we took the monorail to get there. Haven't ridden a monorail since I was in Disneyworld in 1979, so it was a treat.

The Space Needle was ok. Elevator to the top, walk around the platform and look at the different sights. Interesting to see was the sports stadia, the downtown skyline, the living roof at some museum and a helicopter landing on one of the local TV station buildings.



And that was it for Seattle. A good night's sleep and in the morn we board the boat for places north.

Wildlife seen: 4 grunge musicians

Pictures can be found here

A Brief Intro

My name is Alex and I am 47 years old. I was trained as an electrical engineer and earn my living as a programmer. My hobbies are flying small airplanes, photography, reading and going to the movies. I would like to add computer gaming to this list, but I no longer do that often enough to justify it.

Last year I created a blog for a small plane trip my wife and I took from California to Pennsylvania. The trip was a blast and I often visit that blog to relive some of our adventures. Because of that I decided it was time to create another blog, one not so specific, but rather one to cover my life. This is how The Journal of Alex S. came to be.

This blog is for me, though others are welcome to read it. I intend to use it to track my travels, my thoughts, my experiences, everything that happens from now on (though I might occasionally travel down memory lane and relive an experience from my youth). I will be starting with my current vacation, a cruise to Alaska and we'll see where we go from there.

Happy reading.