Annual Customs and Yearly Traditions

Early June is when the strawberries ripen. For the past few years, I go up to Larriland Farm about an hour north of Alexandria to pick my own. I can usually get enough for about 4 batches of jam in one tray worth of picking. Once you add in the price of driving up there and back, it is probably more expensive than just buying jam at the store. But I find I enjoy the trip out of the city, and even the bustle and activity of making the jam.

Also, as I've mentioned in previous years, near the farm is a small village named Etchison that has a general store. The store sells outstanding pulled pork sandwiches. So I go, I pick, and I eat my sandwich, and it is a fine day.

I had planned to do all of this on Saturday. But there were some problems. My house - the yard, specifically - has been in a parlous state for a while. I had neglected it while Chris and Aaron visited successively over the past week and a half. So there were giant Cretaceous-looking weeds and plants growing along the fenceline, long grass: a general picture of decay and abandonment.

So Friday after work I got some supplies, including some sturdy shears, and set myself to work. Everything went very well until the very end. I went inside to fetch some durable trash bags to haul away the debris. They are under the sink. And as I stood it was like getting stabbed. I aggravated my back somehow. I think the common term would be I "threw my back out." Rest became the priority of the night. And all of the next day.

It felt good enough today to go up to the farm and get what I needed. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to get my yearly sandwich - the Etchison Country Store is closed on Sundays. Fast food is a pale substitute. But I got my fruit, I made my jam, and my back is already feeling much better. I think a few days rest and all will be well. It is so damn hot right now, I don't especially mind laying low for a bit.

Big Time in the Jungle

On his way back from Grandma & Grandpa's 60th anniversary party, Chris was able to stop by this past weekend. He had spent some time in Columbus as well, watching minor league games and visiting his old friend Virgil. He got here late on Thursday, and I left him to his own devices on Friday.

Saturday, we had hoped to go out to Shenandoah and hike Old Rag, but the forecast said there could be strong thunderstorms because the atmosphere was "energetic." Instead, we went up to Rock Creek Park.

I've ridden through the park plenty of times, but never really stopped there. We hiked out from the Nature Center (which includes a planetarium!) and went to the ruins of a Civil War battery, Fort Drury. Not particularly impressive, just mounds of dirt really. But interesting for as a touchstone of local history.

We headed down into the park, and ended up going along the creek for some distance. Not rough hiking, by any means - easy grades, well maintained trails. Really quite nice. It was easy to forget we were essentially in the middle of the city - felt like a "real" forest. We even came upon a deer on the trail - clearly used to people, since it let us get within about 15 feet before shambling off. And while it was hot and humid, but proximity to the creek and the plentiful shade helped ease things a little.

Unfortunately, the free park map doesn't include a lot of detail on the trails, things like the badging used to mark the way. And the signage and badging was fairly poor. So we ended up doing a figure eight instead of a loop, since I took us left when we should have gone right. Still, it was a lucky mistake - the distance ended up being just about perfect, about four and half miles of easy trails. And that extra loop was very nice - it reminded me of some of the cross country trails we ran in high school.

The timing could not have been better - we got home, and just as we finished cleaning up, the sky opened up. The storms were brief but intense. I'm glad we weren't stuck out in anything like that out on the Blue Ridge.

After that, we had lunch, and went to see the new Indiana Jones movie at the Odeon Uptown, the big movie palace up by the zoo. Pretty fun movie, if you know what to expect (basically a 50s B-movie with modern effects and a huge budget). And the Uptown is just a fun place to see a movie - huge curved CinemaScope screen, real balcony, etc. They even show the awesome 70mm prints sometimes - better than HD.

And we ended up back in Del Ray, having dinner at the Afghan Restaurant and Strawberry Shortcake (with fresh Del Ray Farmer's Market berries) at the Dairy Godmother. So, pretty good visit.

Battlestar Apollo

A NASA... ad? I'm biased, since I've said before I think going back to the Moon and on to Mars is a great idea. But this commercial is a little intense. I think the Gizmodo poster is right - this is like a cross between A Man on the Moon and Battlestar Galactica.

[via Gizmodo]

Showtime at the Apollo

I recently got a great book. A monograph by Robert Seamans, the Assistant Adminstrator of NASA during the 1960s, titled Project Apollo: The Tough Decisions. It's mostly concerned with the administration of the Mercury, Gemini, and Apollo programs. Policy memos are quoted, with some discussion of technical decisions and program direction. The actual missions merit the occasional paragraph, with Apollo 11 getting a somewhat lengthier passage. It sounds pretty dry, I know. But I tore through it, and ended up cross-referencing it with my 3-volume illustrated A Man on the Moon by Chaikin. Just about every aspect of the moon landings fascinates me.

Part of the fascination, of course, is because I'm an engineer and Apollo still towers above almost every other engineering feat in history. But really, almost everything about Apollo was the most or best - the farthest, the fastest, the ultimate exploration to date. The level of personal bravery of the astronauts, the technical excellence of the engineers, the sheer size of the program - it's staggering. I firmly believe that the United States will be remembered for the rest of history for three things: the invention of popular representative democracy, the atomic bomb, and the moon landings. Pretty amazing.

However, the story of space race has always been bittersweet for me, because it ends. I've often spoken with my parents, who grew up during those years, and they communicate so clearly how the presumption was we would keep going. It's been almost 40 years since we landed on the moon - and we're essentially no closer to meeting the great vision of becoming a true spacefaring nation. In fact, now that the plan is to go back to the moon, it will take us more than a decade to repeat the achievement. There's a real possibility that none of the 12 men who have walked on the moon will still be alive by the time there is a 13th.

At least the work has begun to get going again. Many engineers on the program to return to the moon, Project Constellation, call it "Apollo 2.0" because the of the great deal of technological overlap. I don't much care how they do it - they can cannablize old Redstone rockets from the Mercury days for all I care. So much else will eventually crumble into dust, swept away by history. In a generation or two, I think even the great effort of WWII will begin to fade to the rank of the Napoleonic Wars or (eventually) the 100 Years War. But a permanent presence on the Moon, or colonizing Mars... that's up in the high country, akin to Magellan's circumnavigation or Gutenberg inventing the printing press.

It takes a lot of patience, and treasure, to pull this off. The returns can be minimal - not every space program spits out velcro or teflon. But it is an effort worthy of a great nation. So support your local astronaut.

Vision

(from The New York Times, Brian May 14 March 2007)

(from The New York Times, Brian May 14 March 2007)

I think these two images may be two of the most extraordinary I've ever seen. They are home-made "Magic Eye" shots. Relax and stare through them, and you will see the Sun in 3D. The frequency is ultraviolet. The second image is the more remarkable. Recently, there was a lunar eclipse. On the surface of the earth, the Sun and Moon appear almost exactly the same size (an amazing coincidence). However, the two pictures necessary to make these 3D images were taken by STEREO, a new NASA satellite. The two STEREO satellites are in the same orbit as Earth around the sun, one just ahead, one just behind. So the Moon appears much smaller than the sun from those positions. The black circle is the Moon transiting the disk of the Sun. In Thrilling Three Dimensions.

A quick aside: the 3D images were made by Brian May. Brian May was the lead guitarist for Queen. He wrote "We Will Rock You" for pete's sake. Now he is getting his doctorate in Astrophysics. It's like he's Buckaroo Banzai or something.

Every now and then, science transcends figures and formulas, and our researches produce something objectively beautiful. Now, I would submit that all good science has beauty, but that is a subjective opinion. But these images are art. Ok, maybe you think the 3D is gimmicky. Take a look at this. Or these.

I have always loved little tidbits like this that good science shakes free every now and again. I love sharing them with others, especially those who aren't as scientifically literate as myself. This is not to say I'm at all well versed - I'm an accomplished amateur, at best. It's only that studies have shown again and again the the vast majority of laypeople are unfamiliar with science (and history, and geography, and...). So I share these arresting moments that we've found in nature. My hope is always that it will become a gateway drug. What are those swirling shapes on the surface of the Sun? Why do they move the way they do? How are they created? How do they dissipate? And the next thing you know, someone decides to become an astrophysicist.

The reason this is important to me is because it happened to me once. In 4th grade, my friend Pete went with me to the middle school book sale. He loaned me a nickel to buy Seven Miles Down. It was about the submarine that dove to the deepest point in the ocean, in 1960. It changed my life. It inspired a love of the ocean and everything in it, that has never abated. Because of that, I joined the Coast Guard, and became a Naval Architect. Those two facts have determined many of the details of my life - who I know, where I live, the places I've seen. All because of one book. Reading it was a revelation. The world was suddenly fascinating - if this was interesting, it followed that if I looked carefully, everything was interesting, and I could see it all.

I never paid Peter his nickel back.

Munchausen by Proxy

It has not been a very busy week for me. But there have been extraordinary events for my friends and family. It would be inappropriate for me to share any details, since a lot of it is private and quite personal.

Keeping with recent reports on how narcissistic young people are nowadays, I'm going to make this all about me. I understand that these events are more significant for my friends and family who experienced them. But they all made a profound impact on me as well. Some on an emotional and psychological level - no change to my life or plans. Others will really alter my day-to-day life. Not necessarily in a negative or positive way. Things will just change for me as a result.

After a fashion, this causes me to think on one of my favorite topics, systems of morals and ethics. I know, it sounds thrilling. Bear with me, though. The fact that these significant events in other people's lives impact me to such a degree is a great illustration of how humans are social animals (And by the by, what is the proper noun of assembly for humans? There's a gaggle of geese, a parliament of owls, a murder of crows. Would it simply be a crowd of people?). The interconnections are so common, so complex and dense, that any human event can send ripples, with unforeseen results.

This begs the question, how can we decided what is right and wrong, when predicting the full impact of our decision is so complex? Kant argued that there is a categorical imperative, that something is only right if it would be acceptable if everyone did it (oversimplifying some there). I've never been a fan of Kant, and here's why: the categorical imperative makes a solid argument against lying. Therefore, by Kant, lying is never right. But take a counter case from real life: if the family that was hiding Anne Frank and her family was asked by the SS "Do you know where any Jews are," Kant's system says the morally right thing to do is to say "Yes, in the attic." That was an example from my Morals and Ethics class in college, and it has stuck with me. I just had a gut level reaction to it, and rejected deontological ethics because of it.

I've always been more of a utilitarian - the greatest good should be the goal of all our moral decisions. But the difficulty of predicting that, the chaos created by the dense social network connecting all people, makes it nearly impossible. I have to satisfy myself with the fact that the perfect application of this moral system is unrealistic, but the moral thing to do is to make the attempt nevertheless.

And that moral system helps me respond to the recent events in the lives of people close to me. For those who have experienced trials and troubles, I can try to lend aid, though it may cost me. For those who have suddenly had incredible new opportunities open up, that may make my life less interesting, I can be excited and supportive. Because while these events impact me, they impact my friends and family more, so what is best for them determines the greatest good. Besides, any drawbacks for me are minimal. I don't want to come off as a martyr here, because I am not. I am genuinely excited for the good things, and truly want to help those who have suffered setbacks.

Which leads to another interesting question: is it a moral right choice if you are doing what you wanted to do anyway? That is to say, who is the better person: the person who wants to do the right thing and does it, or the person who wants to do the wrong thing but does the right? Are those who have morally right desires more or less laudable than those who have base instincts but still make morally correct decisions?

In less intellectually stimulating news, I logged into an online Halo slayer deathmatch for the first time this week. It was fun, but I got my ass handed to me on a platter. I got run over by a jet, again. Clearly, I need to be wasting more time on this, so I can get good at it.

Monocacy

I had an outstanding day today. I slept in, then as soon as I got up, I prepped my hybrid bike, loaded it onto Stella, packed a lunch, and drove over to Maryland. I've been meaning to ride further out on the C&O Canal towpath for some time now, but some of the places I want to see are simply too far to ride out and back from my house. This ride, for instance, would be about 90 miles round-trip from my front door. So, I made it into a 50-miler. An easy 50, though, since the towpath by definition has essentially no grade.

It's a great ride, though I'm glad the hybrid has a more comfortable saddle than my road bike.


I've been as far as Violettes Lock at Mile 22 before, so most of this ride was new to me. Beyond the beltway, much of the canal is drained, and it is little more than a trench alongside the dirt road of the towpath. Trees growing in it. But it makes for nice, secluded ride in the country.

The big reward at the far end (Mile 42 and change) is the "crown jewel" of the C&O Canal, the Monocacy Aqueduct. It is an amazing feat of engineering, recently restored to its past glory. I put a number of pictures of it, as well as other sights along the ride, here.

It was a very long ride, and I expect I'll be awfully sore tomorrow. But it was the perfect day for it, good weather and nothing else to worry about. Now, if I can set up a one-way ride with a pick-up at the end, Harper's Ferry beckons...

Old Rag, November 2004

Steph at cut stone stairs

Steph and Dan at summit

Dan at summit

View to the East

View to the South

Steph at summit

Summit from descent down fire road

Hawksbill, October 2004

The Valley of the Shenandoah

Nessa at the Summit

To the East

Dan at the Summit

Hawksbill from Skyline Drive

Back at base camp