Vacuuming insanity

About 15 years ago, I saw a really bad standup comic on T.V. His routine went something like this:

"You know how when you're vacuuming, there will be this piece of dirt that you run over several times but the vacuum cleaner doesn't suck it up? And then you'll reach over and pick it up. But then you change your mind and put it back on the floor and run over it one more time, because that's the vacuum cleaner's job."

Hilarious right? Aside from being naturally unfunny, this little bit angered me. This guy has never done a day's vacuuming in his life, I thought to myself. You don't put the item back on the floor because it's the vacuum cleaner's job, you put the item back on the floor because otherwise you have to carry a chunk of dirt around in your hands while you finish vacuuming. Moron.

But here's where the insanity kicks in. I was vacuuming yesterday when I ran over a piece of string that the vacuum cleaner couldn't pick up. And I thought of this comedian's routine. Like I do every time I vacuum. Because there's always this one piece of dirt that the vacuum cleaner can't pick up, and that reminds me of the asshole on HBO. And now, because I've thought of it every time I've cleaned for the past 15 years, it's firmly embedded in my mind. Will I think of this terrible routine every time I vacuum for the rest of my life? How can I not think of it? Don't think of a pink elephant! If anyone has spent some time in therapy and knows of some mind control techniques to get this damn comic out of my mind, I would love to hear from you in the comments section.

Mountain bike camp

I spent the weekend at Whistler at the awesome Dirt Series mountain bike camp. Why I never took lessons before is absolutely beyond me. Perhaps I could have saved myself some broken bones if I'd had some instruction earlier. In any case, the quality of the teaching was excellent, and I felt like I made some big breakthroughs.
In typical west coast fashion, Sunday was teeming with rain. Despite the mud puddles and slick wet rock we went out and rode a bunch of scary features with the instructors. So when the sun shone on Monday, it was time to try out the newly learned skills in the park.
Usually the wide angle lens makes the steepness hard to discern in mountain biking videos. But luckily, a helpful human volunteer scoped out the big drop on Schleyer providing a sense of scale.



Then it was on to riding the steep rocks on the Lower Whistler Downhill. Fun was had by all.

Bridges

Well it's been more than half a year of neglect for ye old blog. And though I've written a few posts in my professional life, my home life has been sadly neglected.
And now I will resume blogging with tales of my favourite past time - mountain biking. I acquired this fantastic little helmet mountable video camera and took it on a mountain biking trip to the Coast.
My favourite thing about North Shore riding (and Whistler too) is the bridges. The happy clackity clack as you roll across cedar plank reminds me of getting on a roller coaster as a child. Or perhaps the Ewok village.
Bridges give you an opportunity to see how your balance is improving. It's commonly believed that gyroscopic forces keep your bicycle upright, but as this physicist expertly demonstrates this is not the case. You stay upright, by both balancing, and correcting for your terrible balance by steering. As there is only so much room to steer a bike on a narrow bridge, the only tool left is solid balance.
Sometimes bridges are very chilled out, and it's a relaxing ride along the boardwalk like the short but beautiful Devil's Club trail at Whistler Bike Park. The most dangerous moment is when I get attacked by a red squirrel at 1:07.

Other times bridges are tall and scary and you need to get your metal face on and commit yourself.

And yet other times, all you need is a little encouragement.

And while I could show photographs of my favourite North Shore bridges forever, perhaps you should just visit and come for a ride with me.