Kiteboating

If we had wind and water (mostly consistent sea-breeze type wind), I'd probably be first in line to attach a boat to a kite out on the reservoir. But since we don't, I'm trying to design a ducted-fan-powered wagon-like-object to take out on the plains. Like an airboat, only funner. But since Tim Anderson is out in California, where sea breezes are common, him and all his friend kitesurf. So it makes sense that they'd decide to attach a big kite to a little boat and see what happens.





That's what happens.

No, actually, I hear that it worked pretty well. they did drive to the beach like that, though. Note the guy riding hood ornament up top of the truck. Who knew anything would be able to make a Ford F-series pickup look small?

Oh, shit.

If I haven't already made you sit through my whole gun-rights opinion (oh, you'd know it if I had), you don't know that I believe in the right to posess, carry, and use handguns if it proves necessary.

But this is going a little far. Don't get me wrong, I know several people who might buy and use a pair of these pants. There's a reason I don't visit these people. They're generally a little trigger-happy, and I'd rather remain bullet-hole-free.

If you've never spent some time in the South, be it ranch country like Texas and parts of Colorado (yes, I know that's a geographical screw-up, but the culture's plenty similar), or the plantation country of the Deep South, then you don't know what I'm talking about.

Without getting into the "you can have my gun when you pry it from my cold, dead fingers" speech, let me just point out that rifles and handguns are an integral part of America's collective culture. There's a reason Colt called it the Peacemaker.

Of course, we all know that guns (and the nutcases that own them), can contribute to some real old-fashioned hell-raising. We don't want that, now do we? And that's why the sort of people who would buy pants just so they can keep their Colt ready to kill with at a moments notice are probably the sort of people we really shouldn't be allowing to have a handgun.

But whether or not they have a screw loose is irrelevant. What really matters is the fact that even though it's a little dangerous for everyone involved, these people have a right to own their guns, and pants to carry them in.

1/1000 of a mile in 30 seconds

Sandboarding worked both better and worse than I expected. For a prototype made of skates, a shelf, and a couple of chunks of plywood, it exceeded expectations. I was pretty much the only one on the sand capable of going downhill for a distance. Trouble is, that trip downhill was always slower than just walking, and turning was impossible. I knew that sand had a higher friction coefficient than snow, but I didn't fully appreciate the difference.

I have come away from this experiment with many lessons and ideas for improvements in my design. For one thing, I would make the board much lighter. It was a bitch to carry until we fashioned a shoulder strap system. Lighter would also mean that there would be about 20 pounds less weight on the board/sand interface, meaning less friction.

The board needs to be much bigger, in fact. Preliminary calculations have shown that I would need 11 square feet of contact to get some serious speed, at least using wood. We can't make the board any longer, since then it won't fit in the trunk, so it needs to be wider. Almost three feet wide. That's not going to cut it, but it would be worth a try.

Also, sand is extremely abrasive. You knew that. I just spent four days sanding my sandboard with 80-grit the hard way, and it removed between three and five coats of latex paint (I know how many times we painted that shelf). This reinforces my descision not to use an actual snowboard, even the P.O.S. that I have, since it would have ruined it, and the odds of finding another $25 P.O.S. are slim to none. I want that board for snow. I was going to go to Wal-Mart and get some Teflon kitchen spray for the board, but further thought revealed that if steel spatulas scrape off non-stick on pans, the sand would make short work of the whole can of teflon spray. That idea was scrapped.

Steel plate seems like the logical idea, since it can be thin and strong, but the weight kinda worries me. It was suggested that we could attach a steel plate to the bottom of the wooden board and see what happens.

We knew that whatever we put on the bottom would get scratched to hell, so we had to come up with something durable and slippery. The possibility of custom-pouring a glass bottom onto a rigid steel board was tossed around. That would be hella fun, but I'm not sure it's a good idea. Our neighbors chuck enough empty bottles onto our lawn to more than make up for the glass requirement, though! If only they knew that I've been making glass nick-knacks out of them and selling 'em for a pretty penny, maybe they'd stop doing it. Nah!

Since there is always at least a 10mph prevailing wind at the Dunes, often faster, and quite a bit of flat land, I do believe that it would be an excellent place to kiteboard. That's basically kitesurfing, only on land in motorcycle gear. Falling sucks, and will rip you up! I'm tossing around the idea of putting footstraps (not boots, straps) on a board and attaching large tires. Balloon tires. The Sand Dunes Visitor Center has two sand wheelchairs. Brilliant inventions. They have huge soft rubber tires, easily two feet in diameter and eight inches across. Turns out they only take two to four pounds of pressure, and that they had to get a special pressure guage in order to be able to check them, which they got from an ATV supply store. I'm pretty sure that ATVs use inner tubes, and if so, I would be using an inner tube as the outer tires on my kiteboard. I'm a bit worried about puncture-resistance, though. Does anybody have experience on the subject? In fact, does anybody have experience with handling a power kite, or own a mountain board?

Even as it is, the sandboard was a people magnet. There's something about being both brilliant and batshit crazy that just draws people and questions. I love talking to people, even fielding questions about my various schemes. Really, don't avoid someone who's doing something that probably means they're a few grains short of a sandpile, ask 'em about it! Hot rodders may build cars because they love building cars, or driving their dream car, but we do love it when the person at the other gas pump strikes up a conversation. Whenever you invent something cool, it's nice to know you're not the only one who thinks it's cool. Or even just weird.

Redneck sports

Give me a baseball bat and a baseball, both about three inches in diameter, and I can't get them to connect to save my life. Give me a broom handle and a soda can, and suddenly I have a .900 batting average. I don't get it either.

So I'm building a sandboard. I've modeled it more off of the "snurfer" than modern snowboards, but it has elemets of both. Not having bindings that I can fit my workboots in and not having snowboard boots, I decided to bolt the uppers from a pair of inline skates to the board. This way or may not work, I'll find out sometime between tomorrow and Sunday, when we go to Alamosa and I actually get it on the sand. So all ya'll ain't gonna hear from me for a while. As a matter of fact, I hope the dunes are as big as I remember them. That could be a dealbreaker.

As for the truck and the wheels from the red wagon, I have taken the regular wheels off of a longboard-type skateboard that I have in order to be less likely to be tempted to try something that will result in more road rash. What I really need is a mountainboard. Those things are cool, and much more useful and fun than regular skateboards. Plus, they don't have the same talent that skateboards have to almost break my neck.

The plan is to put the wheels from the wagon onto the longboard deck, bolt on some straps like a mountainboard of wakeboard would have, and do the land version of wakeboarding. It is really a pastime in the flatter areas of the country, to get dragged by your buddy's truck as you stand on something with wheels. In fact, I don't even need a truck, I just need two people: one to watch me from the vehicle and make sure I'm alright, and the other one to drive the vehicle. Motorcycle, truck, car, El Camino, I don't care.

Alternately, if I can figure out how to work and obtain a kite, I intend to kitesurf on land with it. That would be fun beyond words, and would even be worth driving out to the flatlands to do it. Or even hilly open space.

Listen up dumbass!

This is a public service announcement brought to you by Common Sense. If you are unfamiliar with Common Sense's portfolio, let me direct you to such stunning works as Run When You Hear Police Sirens, Get Underground When You Hear Tornado/Air-Raid Sirens, Come in Out of the Rain, Don't Smoke Near the Tanker Truck, and Stay Off Other People's Property After Dark Especially in Texas.

It has recently come to my attention that wrist injuries are by far the leading injury among snowboarders. I suppose this shouldn't suprise me, since experience has shown me that snowboarders are just as dumb as skateboarders, only snowboarders' brains are chilled, making them run even slower.

I really hate skateboarders. No, let me rephrase. I really hate skateboarders who think the ability to not fall off makes them better than anyone else. But they always forget that apparently the process of learning involved several sound smacks of the head on pavement when they calculate that opinion. Unforunately, that cooler-than-thou attitude prevails among them.

Of course, afficionados of one boardsport are likely to try and enjoy another, so it is only natural that that same keeping-up-with-the-Joneses-and-trying-to-out-dumbass-each-other crowd would be drawn to snowboarding, which is basically skateboarding, only different. Both cultures seem to love the idea of doing tricks, or as I like to call them, temporarily breaking up with the ground and then getting back together, only now she's pissed. I've skateboarded. I've snowboarded. They're not the same. Don't tell me they are.

Of course, when I say I've skateboarded, I mean to say that I have gotten one foot onto a skateboard, and sometimes two, before going some small distance and landing on my ass.

In both skateboarding and snowboarding, it is commonly considered cool to teach yourself. I think that's really just a great way to prove yourself to be a real world-class tool. Formal lessons? Fuck those. I'll just ride up this mountain strapped to a board which changes the physics of my body entirely, then discover that I have to come back down somehow. That somehow is probably by spending most of my time on my face, ass, or hands, and spending very little actually upright and in control.

Ever seen a car parked on a hill, but without the parking brake set? Seen it slowly take off and pick up speed down that hill, all the while being an unguided two-ton missle? Unlike in skateboarding, where you run out of hill, in snowboarding, the inexperienced boarder has basically made himself into the human version of that car. Trouble is, the car doesn't unexpectedly catch an edge and slam windsheild-first into the pavement. People do.

People who never learned to fall properly, which is an accurate desription for most participants in all land-based boardsports, will stick out their hands in front of them when falling. If they fall backwards, their stick their arms out behind them. No, no, NO!

I've done it couple of times. Precisely twice. Both times I failed to catch myself onto my wrists, for which I consider myself lucky, and instead injured my shoulder such that I couldn't even lift a glass with that hand for a couple of weeks. Every other time I've fallen, I've tucked my arms in. It's only when you're tired or uninformed that you will want to stcik a hand out. That will do one of two things: one, it will put a tremendous shock through your wrist and quite easily break it (give up that piano, guitar, drum, or video game career!), or two, it will act as a large lever and turn you into a human slot machine. It will wrench your shoulder back and leave you in too much pain to move, eyes rolled back in your head, making all sorts of strange and otherworldly noises, not to mention the new and creative string of obscenities you will suddenly find yourself employing. You've just hit the inconvenience jackpot!

It is everyone's natural instinct to stick a hand out when falling. I dohn't really know how this got naturally selected, since sticking a hand out never results in something good.

When you catch an edge snowboarding, it is like you have been tackled by a pro football defensive lineman who hates your guts. Really, try it when you're going down a slope at speeds otherwise only attainable in a car. Not gonna do that again, are ya?

But it happens again and again as you're learning, and as you traverse terrain you don't know, even as a hot-shit "expert." Especially icy spring slopes. But if you fall once onto your hand and once the proper way, you'll immediately learn what not to do. No more having to think about it. Trouble is, nobody seems to even know how to fall, let alone employ it.

Pull your damn hands in!

Now you got no excuse. You know what will happen if you keep falling the way you have been, and you know how to properly fall. Flailing about like an uninformed animal and breaking your wrist is not cool, and will not attract the ski bunnies.

Besides, they're already in the hot tub with me.

Oh good god, it's brilliant.

So I was clicking around on Instructables, and I ran across a guy who wanted to heat his pool. One of the commentors pointed him to this site. I evny the fact that I didn't think of it, but it is something I would have invented on my own if I wasn't okay with having cold water when it's hot as hell here. I just wear a wetsuit.

The guy who wanted advice on how to heat his pool wanted to put a 55 gallon drum in it so it's just above water level and light a huge fire in it. Big fire in your pool. Brilliant. I told him to seal the barrel, pipe in compressed air, and submerge the barrel, therfore getting the pool hotter faster. The concept of (gasp) a proper pool heater has not been mentioned. Of course, sealing and submerging the barrel takes away most of the fun of having a bonfire in the middle of your pool.

If we ever have an inground pool installed instead of our aboveground vinyl Thing, I'll make a point of biulding in a firebox. I want a fire in the middle of my pool, too. I do declare that's the best idea since flashpowder in small paper balls shipped in unpadded boxes. (a.k.a. Popper fireworks). Maybe I'll even install a full barbeque firepit in the middle of the pool. Forget swim-up bars, how about a swim-up rib roast?

More tornado fun!

First of all, all ya'll Coloradans, remember that twister up Ute Pass a while back? When I saw the news about that I didn't believe it at first, until they showed the section of Highway 24 that goes past Scenic Acres and our cabin. Then the praying and frantic calling began, but it didn't hit anything me or my dad grew up with.

Alex C. commented with a really funny story about a friend of her brother's. Apparently he was in his dorm room in Washington D.C. when his friends decided to play a joke on him. They told him a tornado was coming and he flipped out, turning on the shower for some reason and hiding in the closet. They found him later. I assume he got them back worse later.

Back in the mid-late '60s a dust devil went through the Palmer High baseball field. It came through the backstop, over home plate and the pitcher's mound, and exited the field between first and second base, in the middle of a game. All the guys, including my dad, decided to se what it was like andrushed into the dust devil. It was windy.

Also, if you're ever in Cascade, don't buy anything at the Swis Miss. Neighborly feud over a cross burning.

Mower update

This past weekend I got together with my dad over fixing this dang mower (hopefully two people are less likely to make a dumb mistake), and we set about dismantling the carburetor. A complete caburetor rebuild should fix the issue... right? We know it was fuel or air, and we know that the way it's delivered is the carb. We've seen carb rebuilds fix this before. It took a day and a half to get it all done (including an evening at the Golden Super Cruise eyeballing rare vehicles).

50 combined years of mechanical knowledge. Oh, we should have shorter crabgrass by now. Not.

The mistake we made was to forget the float valve seat. Have you ever had your toilet tank overflow because of a stuck shutoff? That's what happened to us, except it was gasoline, and it was because we left the hole too big. Oh that wasn't embarrassing. Half a gallon of gas everywhere was perfectly safe, too.

Long story short, we found our mistake, fixed it, and apparently put the governor (automatic gas pedal) back on wrong. We didn't need no stinkin' notes on how it was before we took it off.

Now the motor lugs at idle, or sticks at high revs. Think, above redline. Mower blade blowing up by your feet? Nah.

Now it's personal. It'll get fixed, even if we just have to kick it until it behaves.

Way to land, dude.

I've heard a lot lately that the proper way to snowboard is upright, on one's board, not flat on one's face. The main reason for this is probably the road rash I have all over my face right now from landing on rough spring ice. Other than that, though, I have had a great time on a snowboard, feeding my need to sometimes walk a knife's edge between getting home safe and coming home in a pine box.

I don't really know why some people love to take their life into their hands, toss it around, and bet it all on red 13 for a couple of spins. We all know that eventually, sooner, rather than later, our numbers will come up and we'll wake up injured or worse. Some people live timidly for decades, avoiding anything that might cause them pain, and drop dead of a stroke with a thousand regrets, or get hit by a bus, or a drunk driver, or lightning. Other people live twenty-some years, but enjoy and savor every minute. Most people don't know where on the spectrum they'd rather be.

I do know that "hey ya'll, watch this!" and getting hurt often go hand in hand, but we rednecks love to showboat, risk something (like our trucks), and be able to look back on good times. A lot of folks think that if you do dumbass stunts, you're automatically a redneck, and if you're a redneck, you'll be doing dumb things. Tha's not really true, but we do love a good risk now and again, even those of us who would rather not flirt with disaster most of the time, like me.

What could possibly go wrong?

Let me get this straight...

You build a giant slingshot, very near to a large stand of trees. You strap yourself into it and have your buddy on a his ATV tow you at least 100 feet and then let you go.

You do not bring a helmet.

You do not bring a change of underwear.

What could possibly go wrong?

http://video.msn.com/?mkt=en-us&vid=33c89eca-bd1f-4ea4-8d97-f429c2b9cee0&playlist=videoByTag:tag:most%20watched%20viral:ns:MSNVideo_Top_Cat:mk:us:vs:0&from=MSNHP&tab=m1192124571607&GT1=28114

If I could embed, I would. Sorry.

Good ideas and bad ideas

As you've probably noticed, I harbor a strong dislike for snow. This dislike for snow went from mild irritant to full-blown pet peeve last winter. I'm sure you heard about the 90 days of snow that crippled the Midwest? Don't get me wrong, I love sledding. I am addicted to snowboarding when I don't have to pay through the nose to do it. I wouldn't mind getting suspended for a snowball fight. My contempt for snow lies in its tendency to turn into ice, and that ice to turn into work. Work for which I do not get paid. If I got my ass in gear, I could offer the only ice-removal service that I'm aware of in the area. Snow also makes a horrific mess of my beloved car. The mag chloride destroys the paint and rusts the frame. We've clipped our trees trying to get in the driveway, too, and caused damage to the cars. Overall, I hate snow when it is on paved surfaces or my family's cars.

This brings me to my story. Yesterday I was out removing ice from all the paved surfaces around our home. The melting is also getting on my nerves. When it stays below freezing, the snow sticks around for my snowsport pleasure, and can be plowed off the streets. I only have to deal with it once. But when it gets above freezing, it forms lakes and lakes of ice every night. On a bloody hill, so I can't even go skating on it. I just have to chip it off every freakin' day, before dawn so it's still brittle enough to chip. Yesterday, due to passing out at a really bad time, I found myself outside at three in the afternoon. Just as the ice was too hard to shovel and too soft to chip. If you ever want hours of frustration or maybe a really dastardly punishment for your kids, send them out to remove ice on the first 45 degree day since the snow fell.

Anyway, as I found myself just getting pissed off enough to feel like doing and/or watching something stupid, something stupid dutifully showed up. A boy on an ATV going up an icy hill with King Soopers bags. This would be the ideal way to get around, except this poor bugger had a little 1/2 horsepower air-compressor engine in it. No torque. He couldn't even spin his wheels, all he could do was get off and push it uphill. At one point he got it to where he could spin his wheels (after taking half an hour to go up half a block), and his dad, who was with him, hopped on the back and they proceeded to creep up the rest of the block, revving the engine at the redline. This made my day.

I felt sorry for them, and was tempted to run inside and sell them a better hillclimbing engine, but logic got ahold of me (I want to use that engine and they couldn't afford it) and I just watched the whole absurd spectacle unfold before my eyes. I have never seen an ATV be that hopeless, with that small of a motor. It looked like a kit vehicle, or perhaps one that they put the small motor in so that they didn't have to license it. I don't know. All I know is that they had the right idea but the wrong execution. If anything had gone wrong, I've seen bad bad things happen to vehicles stuck on that hill.

Also, I think I'm going to start an ice removal business and get a little more cash tucked away for when the shit hits the fan. Spekaing of which, look out for my little philosophical piece on the various ways shit can hit the fan. Coming soon to a blog near you.

Moldy Pumpkin Machete Baseball

Some of you may be wondering I have found myself short one machete, one moldy pumpkin, and one person who will throw a moldy pumpkin at someone holding a machete. However, here's how it goes.

I learned this from a Government and Politics professor who grew up in Wyoming. This is both entertainment and a way to cut up and compost the moldy jack-o-lanterns one always has after Halloween.

When he was little, sometime in early November, Mr. Sturr would take my professor and his brothers (aged between 7 and 12) out to the back alley to dispose of the year's old jack-o-lanterns. The boys would take turns holding the machete and chopping at the pumpkin as Mr. Sturr threw it at them. Whoever cut their pumpkin up small enough in the least throws (while staying the cleanest) would win.

It sounds incredibly fun, and is a brilliantly elegant way to take the normally unpleasant task of jack-o-lantern disposal and incorporate a game aspect. Professor Sturr now has his wife throw the lack-o-lanterns at him every November, and uses his father's machete to continue the tradition. Redneck ingenuity and dedication, right here, people.