Zeroes and Magnificent Lightning

Listening to: Foo Fighters - Wasting Light (2011).

Apparently this blog needs to be a bit more manly. So in an effort to up the manly-ness, here is a picture of Manly Beach, Sydney for y'all.
Bebe still not here yet. Will be a week overdue by this time tomorrow. Have now been in "anytime now" quick-reaction mode for long enough that any nervousness will be overshadowed by "Finally!" when things start happening. Fi is naturally a bit over it. Charlotte is ever more aware that something is up, but still hasn't figured out she will shortly be sharing her world.

In the meantime I have been getting some modelling done. To get back into the groove, I'm revisiting a couple of kits from my childhood, the little known (if web presence is anything to go by) small scale Hasegawa Shinden ('Magnificent Lightning') and Zero (erm, 'Zero'). These were part of a range of small snap-together kits Hasegawa produced in the early 80's (at least, I have no idea when they were originally created), aimed at the young beginner market. They were cheap (hence the 'buy by coin' logo on the box) and didn't need any glue to be assembled.

I got one of each back in 1984 or so, and they were assembled and re-fighting the Pacific War in no time. In this hobby revisiting models you built as a kid can be fun, so on a whim a while ago I found some online from a secondhand retailer in the UK, at a cost of slightly more than 75p.
As can be seen by the parts layout, they are somewhat more basic than what I usually build these days, although nicely moulded for what they are (kits intended to be built in the space of an afternoon or less). The Zero is 1/100 scale which is reasonably common standard scale, but the Shinden is an oddball at the uncommon 1/106. Wierd scales like this are often known as 'Box Scale', in that the size of the model was determined by the size of the box it was going to be sold in.
The original Zero I built in the 80's is still mostly intact, complete with inappropriate French Air Force roundels that were applied in the mid 80's after the original Japanese decals had worn off, and experimental camouflage prompted by trying to hide where the brush slipped when I was painting the undersides and got grey on the top instead of the bottom.
It is interesting from a modeller's viewpoint comparing two examples of the same kit from slightly different production runs. I have no idea of the relative ages of the two (other than 'old') but there are definite differences, even though they are in theory identical. The newer one had sink marks in spots where the plastic hadn't filled out the mould properly, while the original one has a warped wing (and always has).

The original Shinden on the other hand has aged so well. It survived into the late 80's at least reasonably intact, but theses are the only parts a recent search turned up.
I might re-use the spinner that covers the propeller hub on the new Shinden (actually it is the only piece intact enough to be able to re-use), to incorporate some old with the new.

Now being that I am not 7 anymore, and not going from in the box to flying around the room in an hour or so, I thought it only proper that I build these retreads properly.

Given the cockpit and pilot in both models was represented only by a ball of plastic in a stick, and almost any change would be an improvement, I cut open both cockpits and built my own out of plastic sheet and rod. They are best described as 'representative' rather than accurate, but still better than not doing anything.
I'm guessing there are thousands of these things that have been built, but I'm betting not many with this amount of effort.

Did I mention how small these models are? If you embiggen the image you can see the seat belts I made up from tape. I have no idea how visible they will be on the finished item.
Since these two are taking approximately a thousand times longer to build than their predecessors, having been carefully glued, filled and sanded, they are only now getting painted.

Only two real Shindens were ever built, and never actually got into service, so the Shinden paint is fairly neat and tidy and straightforward and not needing to be weathered. Zeroes on the other hand were ubiquitous, and in common with other Japanese aircraft notorious for shedding paint in the late war period this model depicts. So to try and simulate that it has been undercoated with aluminum paint topped under the camouflage green, the idea being when the topcoat is done you can remove bits of it to look like chipping.
I still haven't quite figured out how that is going to work out on something this small, or which way to do it is best. Watch this space.

Royal Wedding Diary

So after listening to the Breakers win the ANBL for the first time (and their coach drop the F-bomb in a live to two countries interview post match. Hilarious), out of historical curiosity I flicked on the TV watch the live broadcast of the Royal Wedding. TVNZ's feed was the first I came to, and since they looked to have ditched their own flown in at taxpayer expense hosting talent in favour of the actually-know-what-they-are-talking-about sounding people on the local feed, I stuck with them.

About 2145 (times are NZ local, this is 1045 in the UK):
Almost perfect time to start watching, just as the soon to be princess leaves Goring Hotel to go to Westminster Abbey. This signifies that shit's about to get real yo, and I have missed the "oooh, famous people" talking head blather that will have made up the coverage for the previous couple of hours.

About 2155
Timing not looking so good as the commentators start wildly squeeeing and verbally waving their elbows (actually, probably not-verbally as well) about the dress as the bride walks into Westminster Abbey. Find something else to do away from the TV while they take deep breaths and calm down. It's a dress, white with veil, not showing underwear, or too much cleavage so probably suitable for the occasion. The massive train provokes a "never mind the bride, who is the hottie walking behind her?" question. Turns out it is the bride's younger sister. The bride herself is a class act.

About 2200
The bridal party proceeds up the aisle to "Guide me thou o Great Redeemer" (I'm not even going to try and pronounce it in it's native Welsh). Since I had this at my own wedding, I conclude from the Royal use that I must have exceptional taste. Also note the trees that have been placed inside Westminster Abbey, and the general abundance of greenery amid the wood and stonework. Slightly trippy and quite cool.

The actual wedding starts. Stripping away the ritual and surroundings and the couple look seriously into each other, which is always a good thing at this kind of occasion. Also note that not only does Prince Harry look like he is having a great time, he is also seems quite a big guy in a buff sense, giant uniform epaulettes not withstanding. Figuring out exactly which uniform any given male member of the royal family is wearing is a fun exercise to pass the time.

2220 ish.
The deed is done. Now the speeches start. Boring and platitudinous. Even the Married Couple look like they have itchy feet. Leave the room.

2230 ish.
More speeches/readings. The bride's brother has a very crooked tie, which I would rue if it were me given the approximately bajillion people watching. Go back to what I was doing elsewhere.

2245.
Yup, still talking or hymning. The feed keeps cutting to shots of the congregation, prominent members of which I am probably supposed to recognise. Elton John turns up repeatedly in this segment. Also note that while "God save the Queen" is sung the Queen herself doesn't sing, which is entirely logical when you think about it, and also carries the bonus of if you happen to be Queen of the United Kingdom, you are permanently excused from ever having to sing your national anthem in public.

2315ish.
Finally they get to walk down the aisle and leave the Abbey. Crowd goes wild. The bride and groom set off in their carriage to Buckingham Palace while thousands line the route and squee. Prince Phillip is looking old these days, and initially looks to have trouble getting into his own carriage. The Queen as ever is totally dignified. A lot of drive-by saluting is done by Prince William, accompanied by hearing a band start playing 'God Save the Queen' on what seems like every corner. Wonder if they stop playing once the carriage has passed.

2320ish.
Idly wonder how many of the weapons seen on the procession route are loaded. Have doubts about the rifles held by the honour guards, no doubts about the sub-machine guns being held by prominently placed police. The deliberately obvious security causes more idle wondering about how much non obvious security is around. Like that horses are still fashionable for Royal occasions.

2330ish.
The procession starts disembarking at Buckingham Palace. Prince William is greeted by a RAF Air Vice Marshal, some light-years in rank above William's current day-job rank of Flight Lieutenant. Wonder in this context just who calls who 'Sir'. The Queen has a smile and a nice word for her palace greeters, while Prince Andrew ignores everyone and practically runs inside. Princess Beatrice appears to be wearing an octopus sculpture on her head.

2335.
The Royals have disappeared into the bowels of the palace, so the TV people start interviewing the crowd. Some remind me of the great British talent of being dryly hilarious without even trying, but mostly interviewing the crowd (while impressively sized at hundreds of thousands) is about as interesting as expected, somewhere above watching grass grow, but below watching paint dry.

Nothing remotely interesting is supposed to happen in the next forty minutes or so, so I find other things to do.

0005.
Return to find lots of anticipation about the upcoming balcony appearance by the Royal Family and accompanying fly-past by the Royal Air Force. The balcony windows having net curtains becomes a source of obsession for the commentators as they zoom the cameras in to try and see through them.

0025.
Party emerges onto balcony, couple snogs. Crowd goes wild. The network providing the feed has managed to shoe-horn a reporter into the cockpit of the Battle of Britain Memorial Flight Lancaster for a live commentary on the flypast from one of the aircraft in it. The fish-eye lens distorts the view so much at first I don't even recognise it as a Lancaster. Another camera though in one of the gun turrets provides a great shot of a Hurricane in close formation, nicely framed by a pair of .303 gun muzzles. The reporter doesn't appear to be able to hear the studio, so the producer disappointingly drops his feed.

0030ish.
The Hurricane-Lancaster-Spitfire formation flies down The Mall and over the Palace, the combined 72 cylinders of 5 Rolls Royce Merlin and 1 Griffon engines combining for a bit of aural goodness that is definitely a sound rather than a noise. The non historic formation of 2 Tornadoes and 2 Typhoons doesn't sound anything like as good. That's it as far as the flypast goes. A bit underwhelming until I remember that the RAF is busy elsewhere with a couple of wars at the moment. Still surprised that the Red Arrows didn't feature though.

Flypast done, the couple snog again and everyone goes back inside. TVNZ ditching the local commentators to re-introduce the Walrus and Petri-Dish is conclusive evidence there is nothing more to see here so I go to bed. Awake in the morning to find the photoshoppers have already been busy:
Addendum: This occured later on in the day. Also something I did at my wedding (the taking my new bride for a spin in a convertible bit, not the driving through the palace gates bit), albeit without the accompanying Range Rover full of bodyguards.

ANZAC Day

While it has often been necessary, and produced both glorious acts and individual heroes, one look at the don't-mess-with-me gameface of this particular well known in NZ soldier just after a firefight in Afghanistan should be enough to remind us that at heart, warfare has always been essentially a dirty and ugly business, not to be undertaken lightly, and almost never without consequences.



And it is for that reason we should take a day to remember those we send to do that work in our name (rightness or wrongness of any particular historical cause aside), those who fell, and those who served alongside, in either war or peacetime (and the sideshows of history where that distinction gets blurred).

No fixed topic

Word from the midwife is that we could potentially be en bebe by the weekend if the braxton hicks are anything to go by. Any time now, so excited but slightly tense. We don't know what flavour it will be, but I will be happy with healthy and happy. In the meantime here are two of my favourite singers singing appropriately.



Eddie Vedder could probably sing the phone book and make it sound good. The acoustic version he does of another Tom Petty classic during one of Pearl Jam's Gorge concerts is pretty cool too:


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Interesting to note the from a couple of news items recently that the long running saga of the Skyhawk disposal is now finally coming to an end. Working on a slightly more in depth post on that.

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Kind of related the big airshow of the season is on this weekend. Not going since I have slightly more important potential things to be at home for. Watching the chatter build on the forums is almost painful :)

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Conversation from Saturday night as we caught an Avatar parody on Comedy Central just as we were leaving Kirsten's house:
Fi: "It's Star Wars!"
Me: "It's Avatar."
Charlotte, looking out the open door at the weather: "It's raining!"

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Enjoying the increase in pub quizzing lately courtesy of Janine. I miss it as a regular gig.

Now back to the waiting...

Record Store Day

Listening to: See Below
So I was kind of planning an interesting night out tonight, starting with a bit of Roller Derby, then moving on to Cirque de Medusa (in the process finally getting to see a friend of mine sing, something I have been meaning to do for months now), but the migraine I had yesterday and still affecting me today put paid to that.

I figure migraines are like a very condensed night long party in your head. Except it is the kind of party you don't get to enjoy, like when it is at the neighbours place, there are too many bright lights shining in your window, the music is too loud (and playing only songs you hate), people are vomiting over the fence and leaving junk and debris on your lawn, you are thinking of calling the cops and you weren't invited anyway. Anyway the fuzziness and nausea that was yesterday afternoon left me with a bruised and battered brain today, remarkably similar to a hangover, but without the preceding fun. Thus low key activities were in order today, including marking Record Store Day by going to a couple of my favourite aural haunts. Including one unfortunately in the process of closing down (possibly but not definitely to re-open in a new incarnation). Despite occasional (and sometimes almost cliche typical independent record store style) flaws, Real Groovy has been one of my favourite places to kill time and add to my collection for the last decade or so. Most of my mumble600mumble odd CD's are from there, at a cost may times less than what I would have paid for them in a chain store. I am sad to see it go. There used to be four of them nationwide (ironically a chain I know), but the chain fell over a few years ago and the stores went independent. The Dunedin one closed at the time of the original collapse, the earthquake literally destroyed the Christchurch one, and with this one going it will be back where it started with a single store in Auckland Charlotte was my partner in hunting and gathering, and I took a picture so when she is older and asks "Dad what were record stores and what where they like?" I can show her in one, with a caveat that two and a half year olds were not commonly seen there, even though she has been to this one several times.

I think the facepainting at the bar across the road that was also marking the day was more of a highlight for her than the time honoured ritual of flicking through album covers and saying "hmmmm" occasionally.

Today's visit saw me picking up an album by Over the Atlantic, and an old Pearl Jam single I didn't have.

Moving down Cuba Street to Slowboat Records looking for another couple of items on the eternal and ever changing hitlist, I picked up an EP by City oh Sigh, solely because they were playing live in store for Record Store Day and I liked what I heard, having never encountered them before. It was exactly the sort of thing that I like record stores for. I am a very late adopter when it comes to online music. Physical music stores may be in a perhaps ultimately futile evolve-or-perish phase right now, but if they disappear completely (independent ones especially), the music consumer experience will be more than a little less fun.

Back to the bench

I often take breaks of varying lengths between active model building periods like now, not having built anything since December. But with summer evening sports finished, winter closing in and the national competition returning to Wellington in a little over four months, it is time to tidy up the bench and get back into things. As a general rule I build for fun not to compete, but the competition and show provides a good motivational deadline to get stuff done. I am trying to start now so as to avoid the power building madness that accompanied my last encounter with the nationals two years ago. I also have a few things I want to try and get out of boxes and on display by then:

It is ambitious given how slowly I build stuff, but I am going for an 'aim for the stars' vibe. It will be interesting to see how far I get by August.

New toons

Couple of newish tracks I am digging at the moment: Shihad lead singer Jon Toogood's solo project The Adults And a newish track from one of my other favourite acts, The Twilight Singers

Any Day Now....

Not long to go before the second bebe is due to arrive at our place. Officially it isn't due for another three weeks or so, but Charlotte was two weeks early, and I am now at the stage where every unexpected phone or text is a potential call to action. Which is good in a way. This pregnancy thing is getting old, and I am not even the one who is pregnant. Anticipation is all good, but there comes a point where you just want to get on with it.

Summer's Kiss is over baby...

Daylight savings ends tonight, and with it so does being able to still pretend it is summer and not autumn.

To mark this solemn occasion, here are a couple of my favourite songs on the theme, both from the mid 90's:

'Summer's Kiss', originally by The Afghan Whigs, but here sung by the post-Whigs pairing of Gred Dulli and Mark Lanegan as The Gutter Twins.


And 'Summer' by Buffalo Tom.

Buffalo Tom - Summer on MUZU.

The Fanboys vs George Lucas.

Jean-Luc didn't like the opening scenes of 'The Phantom Menace' either...

The at times wonderful, at times strange, and at times completely dysfunctional relationship between the legacy of Star Wars, it's fans, and it's creator was one of the main themes of a documentary I saw on the weekend, "The People vs George Lucas":

It was fun. The documentary is squarely aimed at fans rather than casual viewers not quite as intimately knowledgeable of the franchise, and uses the fan relationship to examine in a wider sense just what Star Wars is now, and how many fans feel miffed about what happened to their favourite franchise and George Lucas himself (although in the documentary he only appears in clips from archival interviews, contributing to a noticeable lack of input or commentary from anyone involved in the current Lucasfilm hierarchy).

For many if not most fans the six film Star Wars saga can generally be seen one of two ways; as a complete epic work, or as two quite different trilogies, separate in time, space and vision. There is the 'original' (although just what constitutes 'original', and how it has seemingly been redefined is another key theme of the doco) 1976-1983 trilogy, and then there is, umm, the other one, of pre-sequels that some love, some hate, and many love to hate.

My interaction as a Star Wars fan centres around the classic first three movies that have been influencing pop culture ever since they were released three decades ago. I am aware of the other stuff in the canon, read a few of the novels, know a lot of the lore, but haven't really kept up with the non-movie based stuff that is out there.

I feel a bit privileged to be a part of the generation that saw the original originals on that first cinematic release. I was born in 1976, so missed the first one, but definitely saw 'The Empire Strikes Back' in 1980 or so, and remember seeing 'Return of the Jedi' twice in 1983 (at the St James when it was a cinema, and at a long defunct cinema in Naenae). I was perfectly placed to catch what was left of the merchandising wave as it ebbed into the mid 80's, and perfectly placed again to participate in the mid 90's revival of interest in the franchise, now armed with some spending power to grab some of the things I would have lusted after but couldn't have a decade before. Like T-shirts for one...

Like a lot of others, the universe realised on screen wasn't one I merely wanted to watch, it was one I wanted to live in. I particularly wanted a speederbike I could ride to school. I also perfected the art of lightsabreing Agapanthis stalks with a bamboo stick, to my mum's horror. I instantly, and forevermore preferred it to the Star Trek alternative in its various incarnations, which always looked just a little too clean and perfect. Star Wars on the other hand looked like it was filmed on location in a grungy, scruffy, lived in and imperfect series of worlds and vehicles.

When the films were re-released in the intended-at-the-time-to-be definitive Special Editions I was so happy to see them on the big screen again I overlooked the worst of the tinkerings, and enjoyed the best. It was a good time to be a fan.

The pre LOTR makeover Embassy, Wellington 1997

As time passed though, a few of the 'improvements' quickly became a bit less appreciated, and a few became downright cringeworthy. In this imperfect atmosphere the new films were eagerly awaited (I remember downloading the 'Phantom Menace' trailer on a painfully slow, overloaded dial-up connection, and being very excited to finally see it after an hour or so of hoping the connection didn't crash), with the fervent hope and expectation that they be great, only to be slightly underwhelmed when they arrived.

In hindsight living up to their predecessors was an impossible task, but the prequels wound up feeling a bit adequate and a bit perfunctory, not terrible but missing the opportunity to be awesome (and with not that many tweaks, they could have been awesome). Some great moments and scenes, great technical achievements, some great action sequences (and for all his charges, I think he is still a great and under-rated action director), but little heart, thrill, or immersion, terrible dialogue, canon-derailing plot devices, character and plot miscues, good actors looking like amateurs, and overall feeling only special because they were Star Wars movies. A lot of people were left wondering where it all went wrong. And to an extent I think, missing the point.

Putting aside the arguments over creative direction, actual direction-direction of the new films and the continued tinkering with, and mysterious unavailability on a licenced modern format of the first-release cuts of the original films (and on the case presented I am inclined to think Lucas is probably guilty of the various things the documentary makers charge here), we fell in love with the originals as children. Relating to the re-imagined original trilogy, and the new films in the same way was always going to be impossible as adults. And here's the thing; if I was seven years old again, I would probably love the prequels just as much as I do their older siblings, which aren't without their flaws either if I am honest.

Lucas says the prequels were aimed at kids, and thus a new generation of fans (and/or merchandising opportunities if you are cynical), and while some could see this as a backpedalling cop-out, the appeal of the newer films to a younger audience is undeniable. I hate Jar-Jar Binks as much as any other fan, and I cringe these days whenever the similarly roled Ewoks from 'Return of the Jedi' are on screen. In 1983 though, I loved the Ewoks. Somewhat tragically/fortunately though I never got around to seeing 'Caravan of Courage' (as an aside the Ewok battle in ROTJ reminds me of just how casually ultraviolent-in-a-sanitised-way the Star Wars universe really is, a theme continued in the non-movie canon and lore as well). I wonder if in ten or twenty years time the prequels will be critically reassessed and held in slightly higher regard than they are now. I haven't tried it, but according to some they apparently they work better if watched in an epic Ep I through VI back to back session.

I can see the point of view of some that the revisions and additions have despoiled their relationship with the movies (including the absurd and slightly offensive 'George Lucas raped my childhood' song seen in the trailer), but can't agree with it for myself. Whatever the films represent now doesn't affect my memories of letting my enthralled imagination run wild with George Lucas' ideas in the slightest, which one interviewee in the movie rightly points out. The fun I had then, and still have with it is untouchable.

This ramble has turned out to be more about my relationship with the movies than the documentary, but that just goes to show that even after all that has gone on, there is still some magic to be had. The documentary while not without it's own flaws, works well at reminding the viewer of this, and in my mind while ostensibly hostile to Lucas, goes a long way towards at least illustrating his position if not partially exonerating him (even if perhaps unintentionally). That it even exists is a reminder of just how powerful, influential and inspirational cinema, and this franchise in particular can be. There might be a lot of rabid passion and hatred from the fans out there, but it is rooted in a kind of love.

And for the record, Han will always shoot first.

PS: Fi, Kate and Rich saw the documentary with me, and the latter has composed a much more considered and insightful review post than mine here.

The Queen(s) Cometh

Listening to: I believe you are a Star - Dimmer (2001). So the day before I did the Tongariro Crossing I was up at an unseemly hour for a Saturday to catch the Cunard Line's Queen Elizabeth entering Wellington Harbour at daybreak on her maiden voyage. It was a weekend of long days and little sleep. I like ships (for a bunch of reasons, although the classic guy fascination with large moving objects might have something to do with it), and ones this classy aren't in Wellington that often. The usual array of cruise liners that visit over the summer just don't have the same air of history and sheer presence that something with 'Cunard' written on the side of it in big red letters does. Plus they aren't here that often or regularly, so are worth checking out.

On a calm morning she caught the rising sun perfectly.

Since the visit coincided with an open day at the port, we hopped on a harbour tug for a joy-ride, mainly because it is something you don't get to do very often.

Charlotte found a perch on the enclosed bridge, and seemed quite at ease with the novelty.

While the Queen Elizabeth was one of the bigger ships to have visited Wellington, any records she may have set were eclipsed a week later when her truly gargantuan cousin (they can't technically be called sisters) and fellow Cundarder the Queen Mary 2 arrived on the 26th of Feb, after being diverted from her original destination of Christchurch due to the earthquake. Compared to a week before the weather wasn't quite so good as she made her entrance, although arriving an hour later it wasn't quite as unseemly.

At 1100 feet long, and weighing in at over 150,000 gross tons, she is quite comfortably the biggest passenger ship to have visited Wellington (by comparison the biggest Cook Strait ferry, the Kaitaki, only measures 595 feet long and 22,300 gross tons), and definitely in the running for biggest ship ever seen in the harbour.

When she was launched in 2004 she was the largest passenger ship ever built. Bigger cruise liners have since been launched, but she remains the largest true ocean liner ever constructed. Putting it another way, the Titanic could almost fit entirely inside her, with room for a Cook Strait ferry or two as well. She isn't quite in the same league as the true supertanker style biggest ships in the world, but is quite big enough to appear out of scale to anything you can put next to her, like say Westpac Stadium.

One of the things I like about living in Wellington is the way passing ships occasionally loom over the end of Waterloo Quay. The Queen Mary 2 loomed more than most.

Catching the Moon III, Super edition

Listening to: Recollection - Concrete Blonde (1996)

Installments I and II here and here respectively.

After weather messed up the last couple, I finally got a chance to catch the Full Moon last night. Fortunately it coincided with the Supermoon (link explaining why it is super and also debunking its suggested earthquake causing ability here ). To be honest though, any increase in apparent size or brightness wasn't too obvious from here.

I even contrived to catch the moonrise over the Rimutaka ranges as the day ended. As mostly usual, click to embiggen:

Nearly Full Moon, 19 March 2011. Interesting to note when the shot is enlarged you can see lunar mountains and craters roughing up the horizon around its edges. Also just noted the camera was somewhat tilted when I took this, so the orientation is screwed up.

Full Moon, 20 March 2011, correctly oriented (albeit upside down if you are from the northern hemisphere...).

Will try again next month, I can probably do better at this with practice.

Hospi Bike Ride

Just a quick aside: Our friend in Japan has checked in, house destroyed but staying at a shelter with his family. Relieved :)

The Bike the Trail ride last week was fun, but being 99.9% flat, and generally downhill, not particularly strenuous. The annual Hospi Bike Ride fundraiser for Wellington Children's Hospital (and this year Canterbury earthquake relief as well) is something of a different beast. Twice as long at 50 kilometres, uphills totalling about 700m of climbing, and not a lot of flat bits anywhere. On Bike the Trail my experience of riding into the wind was to come in handy, on this one my hill climbing experience was exploited.

My goals were not to come last, and not be forced to get off and walk at any point, both of which I managed. It was about as hard as I expected in terms of hills, and none of the climbs encountered were harder than what I have learned to cope with when I ride to and from my house (having an ambulance momentarily shadow me climbing up Makara hill was slightly disturbing though), even if they were completed not particularly quickly. Also every climb was rewarded with an immensely fun downhill, the best of which was a couple of K's worth from Brooklyn to Owhiro Bay, without pedalling. Not out of laziness, but because my mountain bike gearing makes pedalling ineffective above 40 or so KPH.

This being a road oriented event, and us riding on mountain and commuter bikes rather than road bikes meant it took us around three hours to do the 50K. The hard-core road cyclists on the other hand (including my nephew) started finishing after less than an hour and a half on the route. My nephew placed 10th. I placed 263rd (out of 277 finishers), so will happily bask in his reflected glory. He did it in almost exactly half the time we did. To be fair though, he is exactly half my age, his road rather than mountain bike probably weighs half as much as mine (definitely way less), is geared and rigged for way higher speed than mine and he is probably twice as fit :). That's my excuse anyway and I am sticking to it.

On to the pics. Fi acted as support crew, photographer and cheerer-oner, but couldn't follow us out onto the rural part of the route (we didn't think it would be smart to add to the bikes/cars/narrow windy road combo) so there aren't any pics from there. Speaking of cheerer-oners, all the marshals marking the course were really nice and encouraging at every turn, especially since we were slow and responsible for keeping them out on the course longer. I really enjoyed it. It struck me later on in the day that at no point on the ride did I think "this sucks, I want a break". I had fun the whole time.

Who can resist a cuddly furry mascot? Not us.
Getting ready to go. We thought about attaching the seat and having Charlotte ride with me, but not having ridden the route before, and a lot of it being a long way from anywhere by bike, thought better of it. Charlotte wasn't entirely convinced she wasn't going riding with Dad this morning though. We sort of planned to put her on the back once we were back in the suburbs, but she was napping in the car by then.

Our intrepid trio of me, Rich and Maria, wearing possibly famous last smiles before the start. Snoopy along for the ride because I figured for something like this event a mascot was in order. It isn't like his drag was going to slow me down or anything. I'm built more for endurance than speed. I also happened to wear appropriate for the charity Canterbury colours, by accident rather than design. I was more focussed on the Greatest American Hero T being a good ironic thing to wear for a potentially tough physical activity than anything else :)

The front part of the pack assembling for the start, including the cycling advocate Mayor (Mayoress?) of Wellington ("So what did you get up to this morning?" "Oh nothing much, just went cycling with the mayor. Oh and 300 other people..").

Setting off, 50 K's to go, and about to be blitzed left, right and centre by passing road cyclists going a lot faster than us.

The first gentle climb of the route, warming up for the first hard climb literally around the corner. Was gratified to pass people on the climb (since I haven't often ridden hill climbs with others, I have little idea what my relative ability at this is).

Close to the rear of the pack, but progressing steadily through Karori having just climbed and descended Makara hill. Smiles from knowing that theoretically the hardest bit is now done, even if there are still 20 odd K to go.

Hooning down from Karori at something close to the legal speed limit. Another hard climb from Aro Valley to Brooklyn still to go (but still not as steep as part of my regular run home. Just longer).

We three tired but happy at the end, after three hours of cycling. I got a cramp in one of my legs with about five K to go, but managed to stave it off by quickly chopping about half a bottle of Powerade (thought process: "Ow, is that cramp? I think it is. Trying to massage it out isn't working, what fixes cramp? Hydration, and that electrolyte stuff all the advertising mentions might help. Wait I still have Powerade in the rack!" Gulp! Cramp abates). Nice to know that sports drinks are more than just fancy advertising and can be useful rather than just looking good. Also a reminder to keep my fluids up next time regardless of feeling thirsty or not.

On completion every rider was rewarded with a bottle of Powerade, and a little lion mascot. Charlotte quickly requisitioned the latter.

There is a write up from a cycling website with nice pics here (it makes me feel better about my ride that they describe the hill climbs as 'tough'). The pics are from the top of the first hard climb of the route in Johnsonville. My pic is in the red helmet group, while my nephew is the fourth picture in the blue helmet group. I take a bit of solace in the fact that while a heap faster, he looks like he is working a lot harder than I am :).

Coincidence

Coincidence can be a strange thing sometimes. On New Years Eve just past I met someone from a place I had never heard of before, the town of Gympie in Australia. A couple of weeks later Gympie was making headlines during the Queensland floods.

Similarly, a few years ago we took on a boarder in the form of a Japanese student teacher doing an exchange at the school Fi teaches at. When Moto heard of the earthquake in Christchurch a few weeks ago, he was quickly messaging us on facebook to see if we were okay. Now it is our turn to message him the other way. Unfortunately his facebook location is Iwaki in the Fukushima prefecture, right in the middle of a disaster that is almost defying comprehension from afar. He hasn't replied yet, and we and the others who have left messages for him are all hoping that he merely has more important things to do than check his social media at the moment.

I thought the Christchurch earthquake was bad, but has happened and is happening in Japan is something else. I don't mind admitting that the live images of one of the tsunami rolling in and overwhelming everything in it's path on Friday night was one of the scariest things I have ever seen on TV. I mean, just ponder for a minute the sort of force that can create a scene like this:

So much to say

Listening to Led Zeppelin IV/symbols/untitled - Led Zeppelin (1971). This album is way too good and unaged to be 40 years old (and only five years older than me).

Noted an interesting comment from an 'anonymous' on someone else's blog last night:

"My, my, Off-Black has a lot to say for her/him self."

Not sure if it is a compliment or criticism, (or if it was made after reading the comments I made on that blog, or reading this one) but to be fair, there are now 600+ posts of variable quality blather on this site, so it is true in a sense. It did elicit a quiet laugh though; they probably haven't met me in real life, since the off-line me is pretty much the opposite. I surprised people with my wedding speech, both for delivering it reasonably competently and eloquently, and because they had never heard me say so much at once :).

As a seems-appropriate-at-this-point aside I don't like totally anonymous commenting on general principle. The absence of an identifier makes conversation unnecessarily difficult, besides opening the door for consequence free trolling. You can still use the non-id'd 'anonymous' label, but at least put a pseudonym, initial or other handle on the comment text itself.

In other news, we three did the Bike The Trail ride on Sunday morning, in weather nothing like as nice as the pics from last year on the official site. It might be early autumn, but winter sent us a postcard in the form of an unseasonably wet and cold southerly.


As rides around here go, it is pretty easy for anyone who rides a reasonable distance regularly. Kudos though to the woman who completed it on a ten-speed on a mostly unsealed trail. Fi decided discretion was the better part of valour, (and being 7 and a half months pregnant doesn't really need an excuse anyway, I am impressed she did it at all) and opted to finish at the halfway station, so I took Charlotte the remaining distance to the river mouth. It was mostly sheltered if occasionally damp for most of the way, but the last couple of k's were straight into the strong and strengthening wind. It was interesting to note that while I wasn't racing, just trying to ride at my comfortable pace, I was still passing people even with Charlotte on the back, even into the wind. It got some fun occasional surprised looks from people realising they had just been passed by a guy carrying a passenger.

Two minutes of work

Listening to: Modern Fables - Julia Deans (2010)

NASA compilation video of various cameras on the Solid Rocket Boosters during Discovery's launch last week. I've posted a video from one of these cameras before, but as a compilation this just has some serene and surreal moments worth sharing (in my opinion anyway). The shot at 10:10 in particular is just made of pure wow:



The boosters burn for a little over two minutes. In that time the shuttle goes from motionless on the launch pad to roughly four and a half times the speed of sound at 150,000 feet / 45km high (roughly 5500kph/3400mph and about five times as high and nearly five times as fast as your average jet airliner cruises). If you want an idea of how fast Mach 4.5 is, watch the separation at about 2:25. 15 seconds later the shuttle re-appears as a white dot in the distance, still accelerating on its way to roughly 28100kph / 17500 mph and orbit.

The shot looking back at lift-off conveys the sheer power of this system in a way the the classic side on shot doesn't. Just before the one minute mark after launch a puff of vapour is briefly visible as the shuttle assembly goes supersonic. From a standing start, and initially climbing straight up...

Another cool thing is one of these cameras has sound. From about 14:46 you can hear what it sounds like inside the booster itself. It is almost eerie, at times sounding like the machine is catching its breath after finishing its work, before the wind noise returns and becomes a roar as the booster falls back into the atmosphere, at times with its companion booster visible in the distance.

While the video is sourced from NASA, I came across it at Bad Astronomy, a blog I only started routinely reading fairly recently, and which serves up nuggets of awesomeness on a regular basis. Like these:

The Stars Above, The Luminescence Below

Looking from one moon of Saturn to another across the rings

Family portrait of the Solar System

Ice swirling around a volcano