Category Archives: Uncategorized

Back to Business (as Usual — or Not)

Since starting this blog almost two months ago, the posts have been all over the map, literally.  The underlying thread is our continuing relationship with computers and Unix in particular, but, since we work primarily from “home,”  and often from “the road,” who we are and what we do is all-inclusive.  Computers and the craft of keeping software, hardware, and networks running are infused with how we approach everything, from home repair to textile and fiber arts, metalwork, health and fitness, and travel.

Take our recent trip to Canada.  This was, in the traditional sense, a “vacation,”  but the first thing we did on arrival was to hook up our computer to the Internet.  Sure, we used it to find restaurants and map out our daily excursions, but we also used it to keep in touch with clients and work on web sites, as well as update friends and family on what we were up to.  We had an agenda for our trip, but also some contingency plans to take into account the variable spring weather in the Pacific Northwest.  So, our “vacation” wasn’t the travel agencies’ vision of being pampered and indulged, but a reflection of our ability to make plans and execute those plans.  And, have a bit of fun doing it.

I remember the ads from the early 1990s, when the Internet was just getting notice among the general public and non-computer businesses.  The tagline went, “FAX from the beach?  You will.”  At the time, it looked like it might be another one of those “flying car” or “smart house” ads from the 1950s that never quite happened.  But, the computer is one of those machines that isn’t bound by moving tons of earth and concrete, legislation, and public funding, so anything one can imagine doing with it can actually be tried.  And easily copied.  In the 1990s, I did actually “FAX from the beach,”  but it involved dragging a thermal-paper FAX machine to the resort, a computer with dial-up modem, and patching through to my servers at home through the resort switchboard.  Today, FAX is one of those old-fashioned technologies, like telegrams, and even the most rustic of B&Bs have wireless networking.

So, you can take your business with you, and most of us have, connected to the office or our clients through smart phones or wi-fi, 24×7.  Inevitably, our daily life becomes part of our business, and vice versa.  We’re not going to hide the fact that we’re out on the trail, or remodeling the laundry room when you call for a project update.  When video phones were first proposed, people wrote about having to have fake backdrops so your caller would think you were in your office cubicle instead of on your patio or at a beach resort.  The reality is, people have found that business and pleasure do mix–it’s healthy to be active and social, and, thanks to modern computer and communications technology, you can still be in touch with business projects, and even bring a fresh approach to solving problems, because you are more refreshed and relaxed, and open to new things if you are in a dynamic setting.

We look at these travelogues and non-computer project articles as a reflection of our approach to getting things done, that directly relates to how we approach solving business problems, without going into case studies.  OK, maybe we’re not “on the job” eight hours a day–sometimes it is more than that.  I can’t count the number of times over the past 30 years of bike commuting that I’ve come in from a long bike ride with a fresh insight on solving a problem or tackling a project design.  The kind of “head work” that is necessary in a problem-solving and creative profession doesn’t turn on and off when you sit down at the keyboard, but is the total sum of life experience.

Coda on “Microsoft Turns 35”

Preston Gralla, at ITworld.com wrote a blog about Microsoft Turns 35.  About the subject, we’d quote the Vice President [speaking “off the record” on the health care bill] here, but this is a family blog, so I won’t. Anyway, Preston’s article about the successes and failures of what the Unix Curmudgeon fondly calls “The Redmond Menace” skimmed over a few milestones and features, being mostly non-technical in nature.

Of course, it is fairly well known that Unix predates Microsoft by five years: the Unix Epoch, which is also the time system used on the Internet, starts on January 1, 1970 (GMT, so that zero-time in the United States is always sometime in afternoon or evening of December 31, 1969, thus explaining those SPAMS you get dated 1969–the forged emails have no timestamp, so your mail system puts in “zero” for the “sent time.”)  What isn’t so well known and wasn’t pointed out in the article was that, for a time, Microsoft licensed a version of Unix called Xenix, written for the Intel 80286 microprocessor, which could access more than 1MB of memory and had a protected mode to provide kernel security. Microsoft didn’t directly market Xenix, but sublicensed it to the Santa Cruz Operation. What Microsoft did do was to “borrow” some of the concepts [but not the code–that would be “software piracy,” something that Microsoft has vowed to eliminate by making sure every computer on the planet has a paid-up Windows license] from Unix to incorporate in MS-DOS 2.0.

MS-DOS 1.0, as mentioned in the referenced article, was essentially a 16-bit reverse-engineered clone of CP/M and wasn’t very extensible, especially in handling file systems on large disks, since CP/M was originally an 8-bit floppy-disk program loader, and IBM wanted to add a 5-MB Winchester hard disk to the PC. Subdirectories came from Unix, but Microsoft retained the drive letter designation from CP/M, and reversed the directory level separator, using a back-slash because CP/M (and DOS 1.0) used the forward slash for command-line options and, then as now, backward compatibility was a primary goal, even if it perpetuated bad ideas and awkward constructions. Since the Internet was developed out of Unix networking, the Web uses the Unix conventions, which causes confusion between Windows native file paths and web paths to this day.

Of course, CP/M came along about 15 years into my IT career, and was the system on the first microcomputer I used at work in 1981. In the prior age, when we wrote computer programs, each program was self-contained, and the computer only knew how to read the first file on the tape.  The idea of CP/M, a universal front-end for loading and interfacing with microprocessors, that would load other programs and handle input and output, had a lot of promise, and made it easy for companies to write programs that would work on any computer that had a compatible processor and CP/M: I even attended the big CP/M ’83 conference in San Francisco where the latest database, spreadsheet, and word processing programs were rolled out, still doing rather remarkable things on 8-bit microprocessors. But, by the end of the year, MS-DOS and IBM had cornered the big business market what was essentially a 16-bit reverse-engineered port of CP/M, and CP/M itself was relegated to the dustbin of history. My first MS-DOS machine at home, in late 1985, ran MS-DOS 4.0, which was, as stated, buggy and was missing a lot of the capability added by MS-DOS 5. A couple years later, I installed Windows 2.0/286, which was terrible, compared with the Digital Research GEM (Graphical Environment Manager) that was used as the front-end, under MS-DOS, for a lot of graphics programs in the mid-1980s, and no match whatsoever for the Apple Macintosh, which, like Unix, was a true multi-tasking operating system under the similar graphics. Both GEM and Macintosh were inspired by the Xerox Star graphical user interface developed at the Palo Alto Research Center, and Windows was inspired by the need to kill Apple at all cost (GEM was killable by virtue of being an MS-DOS application that simply wouldn’t run with Windows). Windows was little more than a slow, low-resolution, limited-color task switcher, and few programs were written for it because the programming API was a mess that took months for an experienced programmer to master.

But, since I had an 80286 computer, I could run a real operating system on it, instead of the Microsoft abomination. Xenix, since royalties flowed through the Santa Cruz Operation to Microsoft to AT&T, was extremely expensive, but a decent Unix clone based on System 7–the last in-house version before the deregulation of the telephone monopoly Bell created AT&T and allowed them to market Unix commercially–was available for $99. So, I ran Coherent–for years. It not only ran multiple programs concurrently, but we bought a few text terminals at a swap meet for a few dollars each and the whole family could use it at the same time–it was multi-user.

With the introduction of the 32-bit Intel 80386 microprocessor, which could run standard Unix, SCO broke out from under the thumb of Microsoft and released SCO Unix, letting Xenix die the death it deserved (the 16-bit computers had a 64K data segment size limitation, something that we also had to deal with in Coherent). At home, we finally retired the 80286 and jumped directly to an 80486 when Coherent was ported to 32-bit. By then, Microsoft had released Windows 3.1, which actually had some usable capability, though it was, like GEM, little more than a graphics manager that loaded on top of MS-DOS, and was still 16-bit. But, IBM and Microsoft were building a real[tm] 32-bit operating system, OS/2. Although Unix (Coherent) was the workhorse system at home, I needed to develop MS-DOS and Windows applications, so I bought another computer and immediately installed OS/2 on it. OS/2 was rock-solid and performed well, running Windows programs as well as native code. But, because of the split between IBM and Microsoft, when Microsoft released their own 32-bit operating system, Windows 95, OS/2 could no longer run programs written for Windows 95, and it simply died.

Even mighty IBM was not immune to the wrath of the Redmond Menace–a company that, time and again, exhibited a ruthless policy to either absorb or destroy any possible competition. The easy targets were, of course, companies that depended on Windows and MS-DOS as an operating platform. Apple and Unix continued to survive and even flourish, though their market share percentages shrank as Microsoft swallowed the world with their draconian licensing policies that made it impossible to build a computer capable of running Windows without paying for and installing Windows on it. All of us running Coherent, OS/2, and, later, Linux, not only paid Mark Williams Company, IBM, or one of the Linux distributors–Slackware, Debian, SusE, Red Hat, or others–for a usable system and support, but also paid Microsoft for a useless system to throw away. This means, of course, that, though Microsoft claims more than 90% market share, based on PCs sold versus Macintosh sold, a substantial percentage of those computers shipped with factory-installed Windows are actually now Linux computers. We try not to contribute to the Microsoft market share (or their already-bulging coffers) by building our own Linux computers from spare parts, but, of course, these don’t even show up in the numbers because they weren’t sold as complete systems.

Time will tell whether Microsoft will survive to see 50.  Their flagship system, Windows, has evolved slowly, through blunders and misguided attempts to layer new concepts on top of dead-end designs, layers that have added complexity to the programming and management of the systems, so that turning the juggernaut onto a new track may be nearly impossible.  Apple solved their transition into the 21st century and second quarter century of existence by porting their trademark user interface onto a solid, standard, and open operating system–a version of BSD Unix named Darwin, though it results in one of the stranger flavors of Unix to administer.  I can’t see that happening with Windows–it is just too alien and too convoluted to fix by running it on top of Unix.  Rewriting the NT kernel one more time to fix the security issues from the bottom up instead of the top-down weekly and monthly and emergency band-aids Windows users are subjected to would be a massive undertaking, and we’ve seen 10 years of effort since Windows 2000 to get what seem to be minor refinements and even some major setbacks, with the Vista fiasco as a prime example.  And, with the improvements in automated installation of Linux and the renewed visibility of Apple in the music and phone marketplace, users know they have a choice, and don’t have to endure years of frustration in hopes of getting a system that works to replace the one they have.

The long way home – around the Olympics

Finally, our Canadian spring bike getaway comes to an end. Out at 0830, with just a snack, we get in line for the 1030 MV Coho sailing back to the States. After a bumpy crossing, we are starved, pick up a bagel at Olympic Bagel in Port Angeles–too many choices! We decide to take the long way home, continuing anti-clockwise around the Olympic Peninsula.

First stop, Crescent Lake. We wanted to check out the Lodge, but it is still closed for the season.

Storm King Mountain and Crescent Lake
Storm King Mountain and Crescent Lake

Crescent Lake is one of the most beautiful, with clear, blue-green waters and surrounded by the northernmost peaks of the Olympics. We’ve hiked the Spruce Railroad trail on the north side of the lake, many years ago when we used to spend Labor Day at Whiskey Creek Campground near Joyce, on the Strait, just a few miles to the north. This photo is looking east from the west end of the lake.

We head on west through a rain squall, over the hill into the Sol Duc River drainage, which US101 follows to Forks, a formerly quiet logging town at the confluence of the Sol Duc, Calawah, and Bogochiel Rivers that form the Quillayute River running just a few miles to the Pacific. Now, Forks is the center of the the Twilight book and movie franchise, as the setting for the tales of vampires and werewolves in the remote Pacific Northwest. As we pass through, we note little has changed in the 20 years or so since we last visited, except everything has been renamed with a “Twilight” prefix…  The gloom of rain passes and the sun comes out as we head south.

Crossing the Hoh River, we turn west toward the sea, coming to the coastal strip of the Olympic National Park at Ruby Beach, an icon for the sea stacks, rocky prominences that jut out of the sea, remnants of a drowned coast where the San Juan tectonic plate is being pushed under the Pacific plate.

Ruby Beach
Sea Stacks at Ruby Beach, Olympic National Park

A few miles to the south lies the broad, sandy Kalaloch (Clay-lock) Beach, where a hundred or so clam hunters stalk the succulent razor clam during the short spring season. Armed with “clam guns,” three-foot-long metal tubes with a vent at the closed end, or with long, thin clamming spades, the hunters watch for the siphon of a razor clam in the retreating tide, then pull or dig a core of sand, hoping to unearth one of these Pacific Northwest culinary delights. If no clam surfaces, they drop to their knees in the wet sand and dig by hand, sometimes up to their armpits, as the clam furiously digs deeper. Those lucky enough to bag their limit of legal-sized clams take home a plateful of one of the rarest seafood delicacies known. I’ve done this once, nearly 30 years ago. Today, we’re just passing through.

razor clam hunting at kalaloch
Razor Clam hunters at Kalaloch Beach

At the Queets River (rhymes with Keats), the highway turns inland, even backtracking northeast for a ways. We detour at Lake Quinault and drive past Quinault Lodge, one of the few old log lodges remaining, where we honeymooned 25 years ago. Alas, in semi-retirement, the room rates have outstripped our budget, so we make a U-turn and head south on US101 to Aberdeen, where we turn off at the western terminus of US12 to WA8 and WA108 back to the tail of US101 as it nearly loops back on itself around the Olympic Peninsula, arriving home just at sunset. The cat and grandkids are happy to see us, and we’re glad to be home, too, even if the trip wasn’t long enough.  There is lots more to see and do on Vancouver Island and on the Olympic Peninsula.  I guess we didn’t use it up back in the 1980s and 1990s after all.

Lochside Trail – Early Spring Biking is Cold

After two days on the Galloping Goose Trail, we had decided to check out the Lochside Trail, another converted rail line that branches off from the Goose at kilometer 4, just over the freeway bridge.  We get an early start, which, after an overnight low of 4C, was a bit of undoing.  We immediately break out the glove liners and zip up jackets tightly, but even the climb up to the freeway crossing doesn’t help.

After splitting from the Goose, the Lochside crosses under two busy roads and soon opens up to an urban wilderness, flanked by residential back yards on one side and the Swan Lake nature preserve on the other.

Swan Lake
Swan Lake, a nature preserve near downtown Victoria

A timber trestle crosses a marsh on the side of Swan Lake, a bit of bone-jarring trip on weathered planks.  We pass houses perched on pilings, hanging far over the steep sides of the ravine through which the trail climbs.

Then, suddenly, we are back in the city, cycling through the heart of Saanich.  The trail crosses busy streets with stoplights, then disappears at a busy intersection.  We dismount and walk the bike up the sidewalk to the top of the hill next to a commercial center, then pedal the city streets for a couple of blocks, following the small blue trail signs to a quiet residential street, where the trail restarts as the walkway before passing into the rural countryside at the end of the block.  Most of the local commuters duck through the parking lot that straddles the old rail line bed through this suburban commercial block.

Soon, the paved portion of the trail ends, at an intersection with a new greenway trail that leads east to the shore, past the southern flanks of 700-foot Mount Douglas.  We’re cold again, with the wind in our face, but press on.  Not far up the path, we come to the Blenkinsop Trestle, one of the highlights of this trail, spanning Blenkinsop Lake and skirting the east shore.

Blenkinsop Trestle, looking north

A bit further north, the gravel path enters a paved farm road, with fields of rich black earth covered with white frost covers, reminding us that it is indeed early in the season.  At the end of the paved road, we turn around and head back toward the city, stopping on the trestle to enjoy the views.

Blenkinsop Trestle
Judy checks out the statue of "Roy", mid-span on the Blenkinsop Trestle

The statue of “Roy” represents the early settlers who carved out farms in this rich valley. We stop at the wide viewpoint near the statue for a snack and watch the ducks and geese on the lake, before heading back into the city and a hot shower.

Mount Douglas
Mount Douglas rises above the farmlands surrounding Blenkinsop Lake

Besides the cold, we have been concerned with the only mechanical trouble so far on our spring shakedown bike tour: The clasp on Judy’s helmet turned up missing when we suited up the first day. I was able to tie the strap to the remaining half, but this morning, the adjusting slide was also missing. While we could still secure the strap, there was some concern whether the helmet would stay where it belonged if needed. After getting warmed up, we took the car out, ending up, quite by accident, at Fort Street Cycle, where the helpful and friendly staff found replacement parts for Judy’s helmet and reminded us that it is getting time to replace our helmets. What a delightful find. These guys are definitely the place to go in Victoria for all your biking needs.

The rest of the day, we motored along the beach drive to Cordova Bay, ending up at Mattick’s Farm, a shopping center near the shore north of Mount Douglas, along the Lochside Trail, at what would have been our biking destination today had we not been turned back by the cold morning.

The next day promised rain all day, so the northern end of the Lochside Trail and the western end of the Galloping Goose trails will wait for the next trip. Thursday’s plan includes a drizzly trip to Butchart Gardens–by car–to take in this week’s spring blooms, though we’ve enjoyed the backyard gardens from the bike trails and the burst of color from the many flowering trees throughout the city. We’ll be back.

Galloping Goose Regional Trail – a Vancouver Island Treasure

We’ve spent the last two days exploring the wonderful Galloping Goose Regional Trail, a rail trail that runs from Victoria’s Inner Harbour to Sooke and beyond.   Since it is early in the season–this is the first outing for our tandem since last summer–we decided to do the trail in sections of 30-45 km (18-26 miles).  Though we started from the Victoria end, we took photos on the return trips.

The trail starts at the downtown end of the Johnson Street Bridge, and follows the old CNR line.

Johnson Street Bridge
The southern end of the Galloping Goose Trail. We started from the building across the harbour just to the left of the yellow raised barricade.

The trail follows city streets for a few hundred meters, then winds along the waterfront, crossing the inlet again at the Selkirk Trestle, another lift bridge and heading north to the Switch Bridge crossing TransCanada 1.  The Goose turns to follow the highway west, while the Lochside trail heads north toward Sydney.

Selkirk Trestle
Selkirk Trestle, looking south bound

The day started cool, but sunny, turning warmer as we moved inland.  The old rail bed climbs gradually toward Colwood, while the highway dips down along Portage Inlet.

Portage Inlet
Judy and "Leviathan" at a view stop above Portage Inlet, heading back toward Victoria

The trail crosses under the freeway, where there is a parking lot and toilet facilities, before climbing up to Colwood, through a relatively secluded wooded area south of Thetis Lake Park. A couple of days before our ride, tragedy struck, as the murdered body of a local teen-aged girl was found near the Mill Creek bridge. The area around the bridge was swarming with TV news camera crews, but they lost interest in us when they found that we weren’t local and (at the time) were unaware of the incident. We ended our ride near kilometer 13, returning to Victoria.

Our first day took us 19 miles total. We celebrated with lunch at Crepes & Cream, a tiny four-table restaurant on Menzies at Simcoe, possibly the best crepes to be had in Western Canada. We tried the vegetable curry crepes, which were wonderful, with a dish of mango ice cream for dessert.  The neighborhood restaurants are always best, and very reasonable, compared with the offerings in the downtown tourist areas in most destination cities, and Victoria is no exception.  On our visit last December, we found a fish-and-chips place just a few doors down the street that served up better than the much-ballyhooed fare in the downtown pubs–minus the beer, of course.

The Galloping Goose Trail is named for the gasoline-powered train that carried 30 passengers and mail between Victoria and Sooke in the 1920s and 1930s. A number of these hybrid rail vehicles were used in the American Southwest as well as Vancouver Island, built from a Buick or Pierce Arrow bus chassis grafted to a rail car. The old rail route was developed into a hiking/biking/horse trail early in the 21st century, and is paved for most of the first 13 km.  The rest is hard-packed crushed rock, which we found a bit rough, but easily managed by our fat-tired tandem, which usually becomes nearly un-steerable on loose surfaces.

The second day, we loaded the bike on the Jeep, punched in the address where we stopped the day before, and headed out to tackle the unpaved Metchosin section of the trail. The trail continued to climb past the Royal Roads University to the business center of Langford, then through neighborhoods and past Glen Lake before crossing Sooke Road once more and entering the more rural Metchosin district.

kilometer 24, metchosin
The trees lining the trail form a canopy over the trail through the sheep and horse farms in the Metchosin district. Looking toward Langford.

Past kilometer 25, the countryside turns more rugged, as the gentle grade weaves through wooded canyons with occasional views of farms, country estates, and the Strait of Juan de Fuca. At kilometer 30, the trail crosses Rocky Road and enters a narrow canyon leading to Matheson Lake and Roche Cove. At Matheson Lake, the trail drops steadily to Gillespie Road at kilometer 35, skirting the steep sides of Roche Cove, the easternmost reach of the Sooke Basin. We finish the last crumbs of our snacks and head back up the trail toward Colwood, 22km (13.5 miles) away.

A welcome rest stop at the west end of Matheson Lake. Judy wonders what color dyes the lichens on the surrounding cliffs would make.

Climbing out of the canyons, the mid-day sun finally dispels the morning chill that has followed us down through the shady trail. Back at the car, we load up the bike and head for the nearest all-day-breakfast restaurant to replenish 26 miles worth of calories. Afterwards, we take the auto route to Sooke, since we probably won’t ride the remaining 20 km of the Goose this trip. On the way back, we drive past the point we ended our bike trip, winding around the rugged coastline before heading inland to criss-cross an d parallel the trail. The roads are curvy and hilly, compared to the gentle, straight grades of the rail trail.

betcher_bay
A composite photo of Betcher Bay, from the road south of Matheson Lake. The mountains across the Strait are the Olympic Range, in Washington State. Hurricane Ridge is the white patch above the leftmost point of the bay.

Next, we plan to ride the Lochside Trail, or as much of it as our tender bodies can stand, after 44 km of riding gravel trails today and a total of 75 km in two days at the start of our biking season.