I apologize in advance for the marginal quality of these photos. My digital camera’s still on loan, so the images from the Helmet Cam are all that I’ve got for now.

I was able to seal and undercoat the assembled subwoofer a few weeks ago. The weather hasn’t been cooperating lately, so it’s been slow going; the marine paint used to waterproof the subwoofer doesn’t dry well when the humidity’s above 50%. Looks like the rain is clearing up, though, so I should be able to start the finishing coats of paint today:

I also primed and painted the rear rack assembly:

Here it is, painted, fully assembled and installed:

I also realized that when the subwoofer’s installed, water and dirt would get kicked up directly onto the speaker without a fender. I had an old ABS plastic fender that I wasn’t using; cutting that up and creatively reusing a pipe hanger solved that problem:

I still need to mount the battery. I’m in the process of putting a metal cage for it together:

My ship will be flightworthy by AlphaMission, although the radiobox won’t be on it by then. I should be able to attach a few temporary LEDs ahead of time, though.

Otherwise, I took advantage of the amazing weather we had a few weekends ago to clean out my self-watering container garden and rebuild the potting mix. I like being able to have a few unusual fresh vegetables during the growing season; this system produces reasonably high yields for a small amount of space. The trick is the potting mix, which is 40% peat moss, 40% compost, 10% perlite or vermiculite, and 2c lime per 2 ft^3:

The containers themselves are made from two nested 6 gallon plastic buckets. The top bucket has a hole cut in the bottom, and a 20oz plastic cup sits in the hole. A vertical slit is cut in the plastic cup. When the top bucket is filled with potting mix, the potting mix in the cup will wick moisture up from the space between the buckets, which serves as a water reservoir. Here’s an internal view:

Here’s what the full buckets look like. The plastic tube sticking out of the dirt extends into the water reservoir; it’s a fill tube. I’ll put lids on them, too, with holes that are just large enough for the plants, so that rain doesn’t saturate the potting mix:

There are small holes near the top of the water reservoir that prevent the buckets from overfilling. I’ve used t-connectors, hose clamps, irrigation tubing and a garden hose to set up a rudimentary irrigation system:

This way, when the buckets need water, all I have to do it turn the outside faucet on and wait for the reservoirs to fill up. Easy! Even this step could be automated using a water timer or an Arduino with a moisture sensor.

My family puts a very eclectic Christmas tree up every year. Each ornament has a story; many of the decorations are as old or older than I am. There are ornaments from each of my parent’s childhoods, ornaments from grandparents that have been passed down over the years, and ornaments that were hand-made by the children when they were kids. Some are raggedy, crappy looking ornaments that aren’t decorative at all, but have symbolic meaning and remind me of other Christmases.

When I was about 9 years old my Dad and I were running some errands around Christmas time. I have many memories of sitting in my Dad’s truck listening to the radio as he drove, singing, from one place to another — from the lumberyard to the hardware store to the grain store (we lived on a farm and my Dad built houses for a living). At any rate, we stopped by some place, probably picking up some gadget or a piece of hardware that he needed to fix something, and at the checkout counter I noticed a Christmas ornament that looked really cool. It was  pink poodle built around pipe cleaner wire. It was awesome, ugly and awesome, and my Dad laughed and bought it for me on the spot.

I spent the entire ride home twisting the pink poodle into different configurations. On every Christmas since I’ve done the same — each year, the poodle is made into a different pose, or attached to an accessory. When I discovered IBM compatible computers, the poodle surfed on a floppy disk. In college when I started learning yoga the poodle sat in a half-lotus. The year I graduated from college saw the poodle with a celebratory joint. This year, the first year I rode with SCUL, a coat hanger became a chopper for the poodle to ride:

My Dad died the day before Christmas Eve three years ago. That memory is a hard one. And every time I unpack the pink poodle from my box of ornaments to hang on the tree, I remember him laughing when he bought the poodle, and laughing every year when he saw how much fun I had re-jiggering the poodle into something else. So, thanks, Dad — thanks for the poodle — and for leaving me with something to laugh about when I remember you every year when the tree goes up.

Merry Christmas everyone, and I hope you get to spend it with people you love.

y.t. and I went to the Somerville bike auction this past weekend. Her Swobo commuter bicycle frame cracked — a chunk fractured off the seat stay bridge — and the LBS is in the process of trying to get Swobo to honor their warranty and replace the defective frame. In the meantime, we picked this up for almost nothing as a temporary commuter and a bicycle to have on-hand for out-of-town guests:

I spent a few hours on Sunday cleaning it up and learning about its story.

First, a little historical context… I couldn’t find much specific information about this bicycle model on Google. I did learn that it’s likely that less than 5% of all the ten speed bicycle frames built in the 70’s are woman’s frames; the Columbia Shadow was built in the early 70’s in Westfield, MA; and that this particular bicycle doesn’t seem to have much value as an antique although it is definitely uncommon.

More interesting, though, is what this bike’s mechanical condition told me about its previous owner(s).

First of all, this bicycle didn’t have any significant rust. That implies that it was stored indoors and not ridden year-round or in harsh weather conditions. It’s entirely possibly that it didn’t get much use at all for most of its life. The tire sidewalls were disintegrating, but there wasn’t significant wear on the contact areas; the inner tubes were clean and intact and held air.

A cable lock and Masterlock were attached to this bike. The lock was locked to the frame and not to the bike, so it was possibly abandoned or stolen from an indoor location and recovered by the City of Somerville. I considering making a bump key to open the lock, but didn’t have an old Masterlock key hanging around; I ended borrowing bolt cutters and using brute force to remove the lock.

The crankset and the headset were loose. I disassembled both and found that the oil inside had dried into an almost glue-like consistency. This same “glue” permeates the rear derailleur, which I haven’t cleaned yet. The locknut that held the crank in place was slightly chewed, which implies that it was previously dissassembled. Whatever lubricant was used was probably not a good choice for this application, since it eventually ended up inhibiting the free movement of all of the bearings it was applied to.

There were several creative repairs made to this bicycle. Scotch tape remnants had been applied to some minor tears in the seat’s fabric. Scotch tape was also used to hold the rear shifter levers in position on the handlebars. The handlebars had been adjusted to sit at an odd upward angle, probably in an attempt to have a more upright riding position. All of the brake levers were loosely attached to the handlebars; it only took a few minutes to reposition them and tighten them back into position.

The shift levers had been reinstalled backwards and upside down. The shift cables were significantly worn, had a few missing ferrules, and were mostly not routed along the frame. I suspect that the shift cables were cut short as the ends wore down, and the lever position was changed so that the shortened cables could still reach the derailleurs.

The brake cables were in better shape. The front brake cable looked original and is still in working order, although it was missing a ferrule. The rear brake cable wasn’t thoroughly secured to the frame; the cable extended several inches past the brakes and probably would have occasionally stabbed anyone riding this bike. None of the cable ends had crimps.

One of the strands from the rear brake cable was also used to hold another cable in place. Necessity is the mother of invention:

The front brakes were also missing pads; I’m guessing they were sacrificed for use on the rear. This suggests that someone had the common misconception that the back wheel is a more effective braking wheel than the front.

When all this is put together, this bicycle probably had one previous owner who probably:

– rode recreationally in good weather conditions
– rode regularly enough to wear down some components
– stored the bicycle indoors
– did their own repairs, inexpertly
– eventually stopped riding in part because the bicycle was unpleasant to ride after all these odd repairs.

Cleaning, re-lubricating, replacing and routing cables and housing, replacing the tires, and readjusting all of the components back into normal tolerances have made a world of difference: