Luck, or lack thereof.


Above: Ouch!

Though I don’t put a lot of stock in superstition, I am usually a very lucky guy. Life has rarely dealt me any serious whacks. Today however, is Friday the 13th. Something I didn’t even think about really… except perhaps when I updated the voicemail message on my work phone.

So I’m working from home today and at lunchtime I head out to the barn and prep the 65E for a weekend Jaguar club event. The Seattle Jaguar Club is having their “Fall Colors Tour” tomorrow and I haven’t even looked at the E-type since the Going to the Sun Rally finished up last month. I took it out once for a brief drive since then… mostly because the weather has been crappy most weekends since I came back… or I’ve just been too busy.

So I push the Jaguar out of the barn and get ready to wash it. The car number stickers from the Montana Rally are still on the car so I decide to take them off. The first one comes off pretty easily… after I was able to pick enough off to grab a handfull. It shreds up as I remove it, and I toss it in the garbage. The second one comes off in one big sheet until I’m about halfway down when it goes *pop!* and to my astonishment it peels a chunk of clearcoat, along with a layer of paint right off the car!

My heat sunk.

I stared in disbelief at the sticker, now shredded and hanging halfway off the car and held up by my limp hands. I wanted to cry.

I gathered my wits and gingerly pulled it the rest of the way off without further injury. I wandered around in a daze for a while… trying to think of what to do. I went inside, tried to collect myself, and wrote a note to the E-type mailing list to see what the collective mind suggested. I got some good advice (as always) and even some leads on good paint guys nearby (Thanks Roger!)… we’ll see how it turns out.

You can see the full set of damage photos here.

As you can see, 13 is NOT my lucky number!

I feel the earth move, under my… um… butt.

I was sitting in the living room, enjoying a wee dram of Glenmorangie, when I felt the whole house wiggle. I iChatted a friend, who lives in Olympia, which is 100 miles away from here, and asked if he felt it. He said no, so I knew it could not be a very widespread one.

The image above is from a the nearest seismograph from my house in the UW network. It is located in Trafton, just off of Jim Creek road, which is as the crow flies maybe a kilometer from my home.

I have no idea where exactly on the Richter it measured, but my guess would be in the “low fours”.

Odd week.

It was an odd week, this first week of October, 2006. At work, our “we have power” message is finally starting to see some traction in the marketplace. I celebrated my forty-third birthday. The NHL opened their season. My car was voted “Reader Ride of the Week”. My friend Peter Lalor (see blogroll) passed away.

A lot to digest.

The worst nurse in the world.

My wife had some minor surgery today, and it is her fate to be married to a guy that is completely lacking in the whole “nurture” gene. I mean… I can barely take care of myself, and a neon tetra in a bowl at my office – thankfully one is a cold blooded animal requiring very little care, and the other is a fish.

Somehow I managed to not kill my kids when they were babies (but let me tell you, there were a few close calls when I was left alone with them!) I am just not really cut out to care for anything… sorry. At least not anything actually alive. I’m fine with inanimate objects. A car, a computer, a network, my right leg… all will do fine under my not so watchful eye. But a human being, and especially my wife? She’s doomed.

Thankfully, she’s pretty self-sufficient and is not so bad off. She is on pain meds, and has tasked me with monitoring her medicine intake. Now THAT is something I can do… read the labels, enter the intervals into my Treo, set the alarms, etc. The key will be whether the Treo alarms will actually wake me up in the middle of the night. I sleep through everything but earthquakes greater than 5.4 on the Richter scale. For some inexplicable reason, I’ll snooze through a 5.3 and under, but once the wave or shake hits 5.4 I am bolt-upright and ready for action. Go figure. We’ll see. Hopefully she’s back to her high-functioning self again soon.

If she were to ever become incapacitated in a major way, we’d have to make polygamy legal so I could pick up a spare wife to take care of her (because I’m too cheap to actually pay somebody to be a caretaker!)

Seriously.

Hey, I’m famous!

OK, so not really, my CAR is famous. The 65E has been selected to grace AutoBlog this morning. They chose it for the “Reader Ride of the Day” I’m honored.

Last time I was linked from there (the photo of the aston martin up on blocks sent by my friend Jerome in New Zealand) my traffic shot through the roof, and I picked up a few new readers. Welcome folks. I’m a Network Geek who works for a Web Hosting and Colocation company headquartered in Seattle named digital.forest. We’ve been around for over 12 years, which in web-time is a geological time-scale. I rarely talk about work here though, as this is my personal site. I mainly talk about, and really more often just SHOW PICTURES of cars. I attend vintage rallies in my Dad’s old Jaguar, and love to photograph old cars. The most common “feature” here is a “name that car” photo of the day, where car geeks look at things and display their depth of obscure car knowledge. The reigning big-brained car geek is Roger, who knows (almost) everything. So if you know your stuff, hang around and see if you can outwit him. 😉

Thanks to Damon & Alex over at Autoblog for the pick. Again, I’m honored.

–chuck

My son, the (potential) teenage terrorist.

My son is hoping to further his study of languages by spending a semester abroad, in either a Spanish or German-speaking country next year. In order to accomplish this we tried to renew his US passport. He had one 10 years ago, when we were in the UK, but it has long ago expired. Besides, he is about 2x the size of the photo in that passport, since he was six years old when it was taken. He’d be embarrassed to travel with that photo, so we had a new one taken. His mother took him and his photo (and birth certificate, and Social Security card, etc etc) down to the post office in Everett today (a 30 minute drive) because in order to get a new US Passoprt he must appear IN PERSON, with his parent, since he is a minor. We brought along the above photo.

The fine civil servant refused to accept the photo, and sent them away.

The reasons? The background is “too blue”… and the words on his shirt.

For those of you not aware of what turns the crank of the under-18 crowd, it is a quote from this clip. I gave him the shirt for Christmas, and I think he hasn’t taken it off since. Yep. Refused a passport due to a video game cartoon T-shirt.

When my wife enquired as to why, the outstanding, ever-vigilant civil servant hero replied: “It is all because of 9/11”

My wife replied, “None of the 9/11 hijackers had a US Passport.”

The government representative had no response to that.

So we’re going for a second try next Monday with this photo:

Ah, the magic of Photoshop!

GTTSR: Arriving Home


Above: Brian Medley and myself arrive in Monroe, WA, where Brian’s wife picked him up.

The final day, September 11, 206 we woke up in Kalispell, Montana, and went to sleep in our own beds. Me in Arlington, WA, Brian in Sammamish, WA, and my Dad in Colorado. Mom & Dad drove their truck from Big Sky to their plave in Vail, while Brian & I left Montana, went through Idaho, and Washington along US Highway 2. A great road.

I woke up a couple of hours ahead of Brian and worked on some photo edits and website work while he slept. Once he woke up, we hit the road almost immediately. We decided to have breakfast in Libby, Montana, where I’d had lunch with the rally a few days before. We arrived in Libby, at breakfast at a small cafe, bought 3 quarts of Castrol for the Jaguar (which promptly drank two quarts), and motored west through Idaho, with Brian at the wheel.

Brian drove from Libby to just west of Spokane, with me catching a nap here and there, and occasionally shooting wrap-around composite photos, which I’m sure drove Brian nuts. You will note there is something unusually similar about these two pictures. 😉 My only issue with Brian was that he drove too slow, but hey, I’m sure he was just being conscientious since this was a nice car, and this section of the drive was perhaps the most densely populated.

Brian lived in Spokane for several years so knew a shortcut around the main part of the town. Highway 2 goes right through the middle of the city with a “Aurora Avenue” style string of traffic lights, so we bypassed downtown Spokane via a route around the northwest quadrant of the city and arrived back on US 2 out near the airport. We gassed up and switched drivers and I thoroughly enjoyed the run west on US 2 through central Washington. I had never driven this section of US 2 and was surprised at both the quality of the road surface and the scarcity of traffic! After I was able to work my way to the front of a pack of cars stuck behind a few slow moving vehicles, I put the hammer down and had the 65E chewing up miles like nobody’s business. The only time I dropped to the limit was approaching towns where the limit dropped to 25 MPH or so. But once out of the town and into the open road, back went the speedo to familiar territory in the upper reaches. A ways into this, I looked in my rear view and saw a black car approaching very fast. I asked Brian to keep an eye on it. When it got within a quarter mile or so I took advantage of the reverse slope of a hill to brake hard and drop us down to just above the speed limit and let the fast approaching car reveal itself. Turns out it was just a Dodge Neon with somebody in a big hurry at the wheel. They passed us and I waited until they got about a quarter mile ahead and matched their speed. A rabbit! I love that. With a good detector it is the best possible situation for high-speed runs. They take point and most of the risk, and you can run like the wind. After a bit of this my rabbit either figured out what I was doing, or lost their nerve, and slowed to 75-80 MPH. In turn I rode up behind them but did not pass. Hoping to psych them into taking off again. No dice… or at least so I thought, when a County Cop crested the hill ahead of us, radar off. Both us braked instantly down to the limit, and it is obvious that this sighting set off the “D’oh!” alarm in the Sheriff’s head. Within seconds after passing us my detector announced that he’d turned on his radar. Too late to tag us, but I also knew that he continued east, and did not turn around. The sighting did spook my rabbit however, and they completely lost courage. Emboldened by my Valentine I happily passed the Neon and took the rabbit position and once again revved the XK up to “ludicrous speed.” The road was gloriously empty, with only the occasional town to slow us to a limit. Through the Coulee and Pothole country and shortly to the Great River Of The West itself. On the downhill grade to the Columbia we ran into some traffic and managed to make some passes that left the Neon far behind. The time between Spokane and Wenatchee seemed to fly by.

We stopped for a late lunch in Leavenworth. We had burgers at Gustav’s, a great place. It was a nice leisurely lunch after a hard driving day. Only the short hop over Steven’s Pass awaited us. We both called home and informed them of our proximity. Brian arranged a pickup in Monroe, a few miles from US 2’s terminus in Everett. Monroe was a perfect departure point as it was at the edge of Pugetopolis, and easy acces to both Sammamish and Arlington. Especially goodfor me as I can take little-used back roads north from Monroe through the foothills to Arlington.

I took the wheel for the sprint over the pass, and enjoyable run up Tumwater Canyon, then up to the ski area at the summit, then plunging down to the Skykomish river and out of the mountains and to Monroe. We met Brian’s wife at the Burger King along US 2, said our goodbye’s, and I topped up the 65E’s tank with some high-octane fuel (it was still knocking from that tankful of 87 octane in Helmville, MT) and ran up my usual “back way” to Arlington and home.


Above: The 65E cooling down in my driveway after the long hard week of running all over the Northwest.

What a great week. What a wonderful vacation!

Big thanks go to:

My Dad, for getting me hooked on cars, and being my co-driver for this event.
Jim Sitton, Farnum Alston and the whole GTTSR crew for putting on a rally in the great state of Montana!
Close enough to drive too, far enough away to be a real vacation!

Brian Medley, for taking the time to come along. A great travelling companion.

Most of all to my wife and family for letting me go. 9/9/06 was my 18th wedding anniversary, and I was absent, out having fun in my old car.