Showing posts with label coffee. Show all posts
Showing posts with label coffee. Show all posts

Sunday, January 20, 2013

Prepping

Getting ready for The Big Day.


Blocking off the sidewalks to pedestrian traffic.

Streets, too.

All the metal trashcans on Pennsylvania Avenue were picked up last night and replaced with these clear plastic bags.

The National Archives building gleamed in the morning sun.

A lovely old building, the Fireman's Insurance Building. Nowadays, of course, it is a Starbucks.

Huge loudspeaker arrays have been hoisted onto poles along the route. These are in front of the Newseum.

On my walk home I passed a very cool bicycle shop and saw this authentic pennyfarthing in the window. I was informed that they go for $4000 - $6000 depending on condition. (Bomb not included.)




Wednesday, May 25, 2011

When In Indianapolis...

A two-hour tour of Fry's Electronics is de rigueur in Indianapolis.

But you should also try the food:

The banana walnut coffee at Cafe Pretentiu, or their vegan Bloody Mary.

The Reuben dog at King David's Hotdogs (just across the street from Morton's).

The chili cheese etouffe at Yat's.

The cheese quiche at Taste that was as fluffy as egg custard.

Morel mushrooms from Locally Grown Gardens, sauted in Irish butter.

And the guns:

The Darne shotgun at 500 Guns, 20-gauge with case coloring as beautiful as I have ever seen - like woodgrain in steel; or the Enfield Mk. 4 Trainer in original .22LR.

The Savage Navy side-hammer revolver at Beech Grove Firearms, with two triggers, one to rotate the cylinder and one to trip the hammer.




Friday, December 24, 2010

Black Swan Eggs

Black swan eggs were the secret ingredient in Ovaltine until the late 1960's.

Boing-boing.

Thursday, October 29, 2009

From My Cold, Green Hand ...

Would a cup of Starbuck's be sufficient to cause Margaret Hamilton to melt-down? Not if she had her flintlock!

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Classical Breakfast

Oatmeal and coffee while listening to The Four Seasons (Vivaldi) and Der Rosenkavalier (one o' them Strausses, Ah fergit which one).

Shanktified! Ha! I'm still chuckling. Java-lanche!

Meanwhile, outside, the wind howls and the rain pours.

Monday, October 26, 2009

Mug-A-Lanche!

Caleb stops a knife-wielding wacko with a hot cup o' java and a cold steel Beretta. Nobody hurt. Knife-wielding wacko still at large. Thankfully, so is Caleb!

Stop by and wish him well.

"Shanktified." Is that a real word?

Monday, October 12, 2009

The Big Five-Oh!


Went for a fifty-mile bike trip today. It took about six hours, five if you only include the actual biking, 'cause I stopped for an hour for lunch.

Here's a look at the vehicle:
The rear pannier bag carried an MRE, thermos of hot coffee, water bottle and rain poncho. In the front handlebar bag is a first aid kit, pepper spray, tire pump, ID and CHL, keys, phone and $20 bill. The tool kit has a spare tube, patch kits and tire tools, tire gauge and the usual things. The front pannier rack is held to the front fork by six homemade clamps. First gear is a real "stump-puller" that allows the rider to climb hills so steep that you have to lean sharply forward so that the bike won't topple over backwards.

No, I do not wear those goofy tight bike pants. I need pants with a belt.

Is this an impossibly-blue sky, or what?



Let's see if I can imbed a GPS map here:




Hey, it worked! The blue line represents my trip home, except for a 3/4-mile GPS failure (yellow line).

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Mojo Bicycle Cafe


Where else can you find a bicycle repair shop that also serves a mean triple cappuccino? San Fran, naturally. Here's the write-up:

BEST COMBINATION SINCE CRACK AND HOOKERS

There are few combinations as simple and viscerally satisfying as reclining on the seat of your '74 Monte Carlo enjoying a $10 hummer and a puff or two on the glass dick. I mean, you gotta relax, right? However, it's all about trying new things, or putting together old things in new combinations. Like, picture this: the Monte Carlo is in the shop, and you're pedaling down the road on the Schwinn Varsity 10-speed you inherited from your pops. You realize two things: (1) This bike rides like shit, and (2) Damn, I picked a bad week to give up crack and hookers — I'm really gonna need some strong coffee before my head explodes. Mojo Bicycle Café has got you covered: you can have your ride wrenched on while you glug an expertly poured triple cappuccino, perhaps noshing on a salad or sandwich while you make small talk with your sponsor. If you decide to give up on the Schwinn, you can peruse the selection of bikes for sale, including the new line of city cruisers by Swobo.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Desert Island Paradise


There's this old joke. A young single man spies an attractive young lady from across the room. He decides to pretend to know her, to start up a conversation. He goes over to her and says, “Hey, isn't it 'Sandy'?”

She looks at him frostily and responds, “Isn't what sandy?”

Well, after my recent beach camping trip I don't think I will ever be 100% sand-free again.

Virginia has a little-known wilderness area called False Cape State Park. It's located where the border with North Carolina meets the Atlantic Ocean. It consists of 8-9 miles of undisturbed Atlantic Ocean beach front, plus dunes, pine forests and brackish swamps. There are a dozen primitive campsites available for $11 a night. Primitive means you bring your own tent. There are no cabins. There are no utilities. There are no lights. There are no showers. The amenities do include his-and-hers outhouses, rather nice ones, too, with solar-powered motion-detector lights inside – just open the door and the lights turn on. At the campsites there is also a water well with a hand-pump which has to be primed, but the water is not treated for drinking. About three miles away there is a drinking-water “hydrant” so bring lots of drinking water containers. I was looking forward to washing my hair in the ocean!

What's great about FCSP is the proximity to pristine Atlantic Ocean beach: it's only 100 yards from the campsites, through the dunes. The downside is access. The only way to get to FCSP on foot is through the federal Back Bay National Wildlife Refuge. No vehicles are allowed. Hiking and mountain biking only. No paved roads. The nearest parking lot is nine miles from the campsites. All food must be carried in; there is no “commissary” - whaddaya think this is, a National Park or sumpthin'? There are lots of venomous snakes, principally the eastern water moccasin, and swarms of biting insects, including red ants, ticks and “no-see-ums”, i.e. biting midges. So bring lots of DEET. Back Bay NWR is not a recreation area; swimming, sunbathing, camping, etc. are not allowed. Campers are expected to make their way directly five miles south to FCSP post haste!

Now, I figured that right after Labor Day the weather would still be summer-like, and all of the kids would be back in school, so the place would be nearly deserted. And it was. On the way in I passed three young women on their way out whom I would categorize as “college students”. They were on mountain bikes and each carried an enormous backpack. I guess it was back to school for them. I had the campground (three tent sites) all to myself.

All of my gear was carried on the bike, I didn't even bring a backpack. Just four big pannier bags.

After five miles of biking I reached the entrance to the park. Now just four more miles to go.



The welcoming committee was waiting - there are two snakes in the photo. The road conditions seen here are typical for the NWR and FCSP: a mix of dirt, gravel, cinder and packed sand. Watch out for ruts and potholes.

"No one will be watching us..."

As you get deeper into FCSP the roads are mostly packed sand and pine needles. Very pleasant biking, and very fragrant. Watch for snakes; I saw half a dozen.


Once I had arrived and unpacked the bicycle, I made a quick water run to the hydrant and came back with a couple of gallons of drinking water. The first liter was slightly brown so I threw it out and refilled it, and the rest was crystal clear. Note: bring drinking water containers made of clear plastic only. The trip back to camp without all the weight on the bike was outstanding! Fishtailing around corners, standing on the pedals to provide thrust to correct the oversteer... great!


I set up camp right away while the light was still good. I found a nest of red ants on the sand so I decided to use a sleeping hammock to sleep above ground. A decade ago I took my son on a Cub Scout camping trip. One of the leaders decided to sleep in the open. The next morning he found that his face was less than a foot from the entrance to a very busy underground wasp nest. He scratched his head and said, “You know...I wondered what that buzzing sound was...” Lesson learned: set up during daylight! There were plenty of strong live oak trees to attach the hammock lines to. I used these “figure nine” carabiners to keep lines taut; they're amazing! And the small green cords are woven with reflective material so they can be seen in the dark. The plastic gripper on the right holds the corner of the tarp. Cheaper Than Dirt, about $5 a dozen.


Using a painter's drop cloth (what a useful bargain! Get the 2-mil kind.) I built rain flies over the picnic table and over the hammock. I guyed these down with tent stakes and miniature carabiners. I stashed my food on the raccoon racks and went to have a look at the beach.

Raccoon Rack

From the beach, looking north, the nearest habitable dwelling is nine or ten miles away. Driving on the beach is prohibited, except for the park rangers, of course. And looking south, the little village of Carova, just below the North Carolina border, is three and a half miles away.

Looking north

Looking south

See the large red object on the left edge of the picture? That is a washed-up steel buoy, about 6-8 feet in diameter. You can see it in the aerial photo below:

My campsite was #9.

There is no life guard on duty. However, instructions are provided for saving someone who is drowning, should the need arise.


You could also call “911”.

"Searching For Network."

But I wouldn't count on it.

I brought a ham radio FM transceiver, just in case. Also serves as a regular AM/FM broadcast radio and a weather alert radio, too.

The day was warm with heavy overcast and strong winds. Back at camp I prepared an MRE (turkey patty, ugh) and a pot (actual percolator!) of strong Sumatran coffee from Peet's. That'll wash down any cruddy camping food. I like to use MRE's because they're cheap, light, have a long shelf life and (and this is important!) they can be heated without an open flame. It's really a letdown to arrive at a camp and be told by the ranger that no fires or stoves are allowed because of dry conditions, so you have to eat cold food. MRE's have these clever, cheap, use-once-and-throw-it-away chemical heaters that actually work. I have an old Peak “multi-fuel” backpacker's stove that still works like a champ and makes coffee in about 20 minutes.

After cleanup I snapped a lumistick and left it at the entrance to my campsite. I took two flashlights with me for a long walk on the beach while the sun went down.

This is one of the few places in Virginia (maybe the ONLY place, come to think of it) where you can actually camp right on the beach. With your tent or sleeping bag between the surf and the first dune. In fact, the rangers actually accommodate beach camping, with marked-off areas for each of the campsites. No fires, tho'! No fires on the beach!


As the sun went down I saw some blue sky breaking in the west, so I was optimistic that Tuesday's weather would be an improvement, and might even provide some sunburn.

When it was completely dark I waded into the surf and was rewarded by little green bioluminescing creatures in the foam. Ostrocods? Cool!

Walking back in the darkness it was reassuring to come around the last corner and see the lumistick glowing brightly at the entrance to my camp.


The lumistick is at the bottom of the wooden post.

It was about 10 PM by now so I got some supplies under cover, hung the trash bag on the raccoon pole, climbed into the hammock and zipped the insect screen closed. It was starting to drizzle on the rain fly a foot above my face and I could hear the “pat-pat-pat” of the rain on the plastic, but I was snug, dry and warm. Sleeping in a hammock made of ripstop nylon is actually pretty comfortable. By midnight the rain had increased to a steady downpour and the constant “PAT-A-PAT-A” on the rain fly had become a continuous roar of sound. It sounded like firecrackers on Chinese New Year. I couldn't get to sleep.

I was starting to feel cold at my feet. Water was running down the hammock lines into the hammock. Held by capillary action or “surface tension”, water can do the damnedest things. Next time I will install “drip lines” on the hammock lines; these are little pieces of string, about a foot long, that are tied to the hammock lines and hang straight down to provide a more direct route for the raindrops to reach the ground.

“Yeah, next time!” the Sundance Kid said to Butch Cassidy.

The wind and rain picked up (the next morning the weather guy on the radio called it “an absolute deluge”). Water was blowing underneath the rain fly. Water was traveling down the ridge line of the insect net and dripping on my face. I was starting to shiver. Then the insect screen ridge line snapped and it fell onto my face, and the rain fly with it. I got up three times between 1:00 and 3:00 AM to adjust or repair the rain fly. It never tore; the material is easy to cut but very difficult to tear.

At 4:30 AM the rain had slacked off to a drizzle so I made a dash to the supplies to see if I could find some dry clothes. They were marginally dryer; even though they had been protected from the rain, the humidity had got to 'em. My own fault for preferring cotton.

The weatherman said that the weather for the next two days would be the same. "We might see the sun by Thursday," he said. I hadn't slept at all and it did not look as if I would get any opportunity for sleep in the next 72 hours, so I decided, reluctantly, to pack it in.

I packed up and started out at first light. I kept dreaming about getting into my car and starting the heater. I packed up every scrap of trash, too. As I rode the rain stopped and I was besieged by flying insects. I had to use my right hand to continuously swipe them away from my eyes. Somewhere in my gear was a mosquito headnet, but before I could find it, the rains returned and drove the insects off.

It's slow going pedaling a heavily-laden bicycle into a strong headwind. I guess it took nearly two hours to reach my car, and by then it was a full-fledged gale. I opened the car door and the wind immediately slammed it closed again. I struggled to get everything inside and the bike back on the rack.

This has just whetted my appetite to try it again next year. Here's how I would make changes:

1. Bigger rain flies so that they can cover the entire hammock, plus 2-3 feet on each end, and reach the ground on either side, to reduce the amount of water that is blown in.
2. Separate ridge line for the rain fly, independent of the hammock.
3. Drip strings on the hammock lines, insect screen lines and rain fly lines.
4. Synthetic clothing.
5. Bring a f***ing book! Do you believe that I forgot to bring a book!?

I had a couple of food treats that I had brought in. One was the coffee and the other was cheese; Stilton with mango. Good lord, it's delicious!

[Edit: I forgot to mention hurricane matches. These are actually little "sparklers", like wax coated matches impregnated with gunpowder or some such. The paper matches from the MRE went bad after 3-4 hours of exposure to humid air, but I believe the hurricane matches might even ignite under water!]

[There is a Map and GPS version of the bike trip available here.]

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Fake-Memo Thread

Don't you dare miss the comments section over at Sharp As A Marble about Robb's posting of a transparently obvious forgery of another transparently obvious forgery.

"The memo mentions an HMO. There were no HMOs in 1962! Gotcha!"

"Hawaii's first HMO was started in 1956 in Honolulu. Gotcha!"

"Doctor Hodges wasn't even on duty that night. Gotcha!"

"There was no 'Dr. Hodges' assigned to that hospital in 1962. Gotcha!"

"That memo's a fake! If it was really from Hawaii, it would be written in Hawaiian. Gotcha!"

"There's a ring left by a coffee cup on the memo and the lab says it's Hawaiian Kona coffee! Gotcha!"

"You 'birthers' are all gonna die, and all of your inbred children, too!"

"The memo was typewritten and it was faxed. That's double proof!"

Priceless.

Friday, June 5, 2009

It's National Donut Day!

I lift my coffee mug to the King of Donuts: the plain, cake donut.

Here's where you can get free donuts today: link.

Friday, April 24, 2009

Thursday, April 23, 2009

Joke De Jour

"I was only in there for five minutes, and when I came out there was this traffic cop writing a parking ticket..."

I'll let Rusty tell it.

Friday, March 20, 2009

Steamed Bagels

Broad Ripple has a new bagel place; Roberta X has discovered it.

Google Earth has it, too. I wonder if the Google Earth photo car people stopped for a bagel?

Sunday, February 8, 2009

Range Report Sunday 2/8/09

Got up at 2 A.M. At work at 3:30.

Dramatic sky, eh?


Home by noon. Off to the range by 1:00. Fired 150 rds of Remington 230-gr JHP through the Kimber, then 20-rds of 230-gr Hydra-Shoks. Had a FTE on rd #3 with the Kimber mag and another on rd #76 with a Wilson 47OXC mag (!). No other failures. No failures with the Hydra-Shoks at all, but it was only 20-rds; those things are pricey! Used six mags: Kimber, Pro-Mag COL1, Tripp 7R-45-WO, two Wilson 47OXCs and a Wilson 47OX. All mags worked well. The cheap Pro-Mag was a pleasant surprise: no failures at all, and this mag has a skirted plastic follower and a little "pinkie rest", although it holds only six rounds. The Tripp mag is built like a Mack truck, but the Wilson 47OXC mags worked beautifully AND loaded like butter; they just felt like "quality" - I think I'll stick with the Wilson 47OXCs. The Wilson 47OX is the same mag but with a larger base plate. That makes a total of 520 rds through the Kimber and it shoots very accurately, for me anyway!

I have "retired" the other two magazines, the Chip McCormick and the Wilson 46. They are both high-quality mags, but not for an alloy receiver like this Kimber.

Also put 100 rds of 10mm through the Witness. Had four or five failures-to-feed: the round got caught on the feedramp. Three factory mags in use here, so a defective mag seems unlikely to be the cause. I polished the feedramp last week using 400-grit sandpaper wrapped around a 3/8" wooden dowel, finishing with 600-grit, then a GENTLE polish with jeweler's rouge and a felt "bullet" on a Dremel (I know, I know! But lightly and gently.)

Check out the firing pin impressions. It looks like the firing pin still hasn't retracted when the casing starts to eject. All of the 10-mm rounds looked like this. Maybe some new, stronger recoil and firing pin springs would be in order; the Witness still has the stock springs. The Kimber's firing pin impressions were perfect; no smears or "commas" there.

Then out to the back porch with the laptop in 66-degree weather (yes!) to write this post alfresco! Coffee with whipped cream, a Drambuie and a fine cigar ... life is good!

You know what else is good? Arriving at the range with a heavy range bag and leaving with a much lighter range bag!

Thursday, December 11, 2008

Apple Bacon Coffeecake

I'm speechless... I have no speech.

Tuesday, September 9, 2008

"Live And Let Die"

Along with a cigar, a mug of hot java, a cigar and a Drambuie, and you've got a delightful night on the back porch.

This is not the cover that I have; this is the cover from the 1960's editions that I loved.

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

A.T.F. - Alcohol, Tobacco & Fleming

A delightful evening on the back porch with a Gloria Cubana cigar, a snifter of Drambuie, a cup of Colombian Supremo and a good book.

This one features the appearance, the one and only appearance, of the Armourer, Major Boothroyd. He takes away Bond's .25 Beretta and replaces it with the famous 7.65 Walther PPK, and, much less famous, a Smith and Wesson Centennial Airweight in .38 Special.

The Armourer is based on a real person, Geoffrey Boothroyd, a British firearms expert who wrote to Fleming that Bond's choice of weapons might be improved. Fleming asked Boothroyd if he could write him in as a minor character.

And, in the first chapter, a Morse code shortwave contact on 14 mc that is mysteriously broken off in mid-sentence and gets the whole plot rolling. Ham radio, too? Be still my heart!

Although, the "hits" were carried out with silenced revolvers (!). Well, there's only one way THAT can work:



Do you suppose Boothroyd told Fleming about the curious design of the 1895 Nagant?

Saturday, June 28, 2008

Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms

Who's bringing the chips?When Turk has an ATF Evening, it involves Drambuie, La Gloria Cubana cigars and an EAA Witness in 10mm. It could also involve some coffee, I dunno. Kindly note that the pistol mag well is empty. You'll have to take my word for it that the chamber is empty, too.