RyanHarne.com

In the search for an automobile, I eventually decided that only a well-maintained and used Volkswagen TDI should be my goal. Daily searching on craigslist, cars.com, autotrader, and moderately local eBay listings have given me a keen sense of price and reasonable expectations of vehicle condition. Today, I found an opportunity. And it was only 21 miles away.

This listing appeared on autotrader: a 2000 Volkswagen Beetle TDI, 5 speed. Yes, it has the 100k miles you’d expect of an 8-year-old vehicle, but the TDIs can last an elephantine lifetime. Yes, it’s a Beetle, and yes, it’s the flat lime green color probably more frequently driven by women… but, hey, it’s a TDI. I called the dealer and they said they were asking $8,000. I told them I’d be over after work.

The car was recently brought into the dealership on a trade-in and had neither been washed nor cleaned out yet. It has every single option available on the Beetles of 2000, with the exception of a CD player. Given that Beetles are typically cars for women, and given that it has heated seats, where was the CD player? Strange. But, never should I mind. It rode well, but oddly slow for a TDI, and would clearly look sharp once washed and cleaned with my engineering-type scrutiny. After the test drive (oh, how wonderful it felt to be behind a manual transmission TDI), the dealer rep told me that the vehicle was leaving for auction within a few days. If I wanted it, I could take it for $6,500 tonight.

Sixty-five means I could probably deal down to $5,800 or $6,000, which is pennies compared to other used TDIs on the market. My father scheduled to come over to check the car out and I waited in and around the TDI for an hour contemplating this vehicle. I called Becky so that she could give her opinion on me purchasing a Beetle. If her response was an emoticon, it wasn’t exactly a sad face but not exactly a weary face :/. So, I spent the rest of the time waiting for my father in deep thought about whether I should make this purchase and have disappointed (even slightly) my Becky. Once he arrived, we hit the road again with his more-diesel-tuned ears.

He also noticed the lack of zip in the TDI. On our second test ride, the dealer rep pointed out that a mechanic had said the turbo was “intermittent”. Or, in other words, the turbo was broken, messed up, something other than fully-functional. A TDI without the turbo is a slow, fuel-efficient car, probably not capable of maintaining the 60mph speed limit traveling up I-81 into Blacksburg on the 6% climb. Which is no different than my family’s trusty 1991 diesel Jetta. Even $6,000 for a TDI (more like DI) isn’t worth it if you have to replace the turbo ($2,000 estimated expense total) and then hope that the previous owner hadn’t destroyed the car by running it for so long without the turbo.

The final nail on the coffin was that the interior needed several fixes: a latch to be replaced here, a speaker needing fixing here, a button needing re-attachment there. Above all, Becky’s hesitance to see me drive around in a green Beetle - and dare I even ask her to be in the passenger seat while I piloted the car, she’d need dark sunglasses to hide her shame - was what really impressed me to pass up this deal. Yes, the car can be fixed in&out for about $2,500 more, but the utility of a Beetle doesn’t compare to that of a Golf or Jetta TDI. And the 45 mpg in a TDI isn’t worth the rolling eyes your girlfriend gives you when you pick her up in a lime green VW Beetle.

Catching up on 2 weeks’ worth of absence, I have been racing to complete some projects as the semester closed, rushing to sign some official documents for my GRA, savoring my time with Becky, and getting on the bike whenever possible. Yesterday I officially received a diploma for a Bachelor’s of something-or-other in Mechanical Engineering even though I just completed a 3rd semester of classes which count towards my Master’s degree. So, yesterday afternoon, I put the finishing touches on my bachelor’s education and can begin to forget the monotonous given-then-solve routines that I was so thoroughly a master of. I graduated magna cum laude with a firm handshake and a thank you square into the eyes of the Dean of Mechanical Engineering.

I’ve given a lot of thought to the future lately. My academics have morphed into a sort-of career with their own set of rules, expectations and authority figures. The convenience and utility of motor transportation has me searching for a proper automobile that could last me a long time. Becky is moving here in July - an event worthy of a billboard-sized countdown.

Everywhere I look, a serious disposition seems appropriate, though even better accompanied with a round of humor and lightheartedness. A coming-of-age is on the horizon, and I’ve not been blogging enough lately to look back and see the magnificent progression. I blame my extreme busyness due to this past semester’s finale, my exhausted eveningself for not having the capacity to contemplate and document my coming-and-goings.

So, enjoy some visuals while I get my documentarian self back in order.

I think cycling was a good choice for me. It has a thorough culture and various subcultures. While I don’t empathize with or particularly enjoy the fixed-gear/hipster culture, the rest of cycling culture is quite encouraging, like a book club, and the internal workings are not nearly as concealed and shady as the occasional media coverage may make it seem. I’m sure if bodybuilding received even a slice of the media coverage that cycling gets, there would be enough doping stories to last a decade or five. But, no one wants to see images of elephantitis-suffering crotches hidden behind a thin layer of spandex on the 6 o’clock news. Fortunately, American cycling and American cycling events are so heavily controlled (i.e. require thousands of drug tests before/during/after events and during training) that cycling doping is going extinct rapidly.

Anyways, the Tour de Georgia is going on right now. American events are considered fairly relaxed compared to the Pro Tour races; the Pro teams open up the pace once they feel like it and thoroughly destroy the Pro-continental teams still hanging on. The easier levels of duress encourage a bit of playfulness within the peloton, in addition to greater interaction with the media. And, thankfully, many of the riders like to blog. David Zabriskie, who rode the fastest Tour de France time trial ever, is keeping up with his blog. Several riders are contributing to cyclingnews.com blog section, like the popular Rory Sutherland and Trent Wilson. The Jittery Joe’s Pro Cycling Team is keeping everyone up to date with photos and videos.

Then there’s Ted King of the new Bissell Pro Cycling Team. Similar to the humor of Zabriskie, King is so popular among pelotons that he was in the running for “most loved rider” during the Tour of California, alongside the likes of the George Hincapie. Ted King’s blog is pretty nice. He took some photos with his iPhone during the Tour of California, while he was actually riding along in the peloton, and then posted them to his blog that night. Were I not afraid that the other Cat4 riders in my races would freak out and crash when they see me racing with one hand and taking cameraphone pictures during a race, I would absolutely do it.

Cycling blogging must becoming an everyday affair, considering other riders from the VT team. Four other riders have their own blogs, complete with plenty of visuals (sometimes even photos that I took…), to stimulate the Watts-watching geek inside of all of us. Yes, this was a good group to begin getting involved in. Fits like a nice carbon sole. Plus, the footage is always a blast (ad before video).

This past Saturday I participated in a road race/ride in Wytheville, VA, proceeds benefiting a support center for abused women & children in the area. It wasn’t exactly a race because it wasn’t USAC-sanctioned, but it was closer in feel to the Blacksburg Wednesday Worlds race rides. The name of this ride is Mule Hell-Roubaix.

If you’re not familiar with Paris-Roubaix, then allow me a moment to explain the reference. The oldest of all cycling races still held today, Paris-Roubaix is known for brutalizing the best riders out there from the start in Paris to the finishing velodrome loop in Roubaix. Dozens of cobblestone “sectors” are chosen each year for the course, which varies year-to-year based on the condition of the roads. This year’s course was 260 kilometers long (~180 miles) and contained 28 cobblestone sectors totaling 50km. Half of the time, France is doused in rain during the spring turning Paris-Roubaix into a demoralizing slop.

Mule Hell-Roubaix doesn’t actually take you to Roubaix but does include several gravel sections - cobblestones are hard to come by in Wytheville. This year’s ride had some showers at the beginning which tapered off as the day went on. The course was 50 miles of flat terrain with a finish of steep rollers in a residential neighborhood.

Several of us Rogues racers went out to support this local event. The pace split up the group on 2 or 3 occasions leaving a group of 9 of us as contenders for the finish; the pace never really let up and only accelerated towards the finish. Fortunately, 5 of the 9 remaining riders were Rogues and there was a general agreement among the Rogues to set me up for sprinting up the hard rollers at the end. Unfortunately, no one wants to really finish a race ride on a slow note, so not long after I was off the front sprinting, a few other Rogues started the chase as I reached the flat, time-trialing section before the line. But, I was about 10 seconds ahead by that point and was just moments away from the finish. Where I finished alone, alongside several tables of prepared food and drinks. It’s not common to be treated to a small banquet after a local ride, so we enjoyed that.

So, it was a good start to the weekend. Then, once home, I napped and then headed back to the lab for a group meeting. Wow, the fun never stops. Actually, the fun slows down a bit once the semester ends in another week. Thankfully.

My love of TextEdit has been overturned. A few features that it lacks are now becoming hassles, namely a word count and proper embedded image support. I like to edit and create practically all of my written work in TextEdit before continuing over to a general word processing application, like Pages or Word. But, this year, I’ve begun doing practical all editing in TextEdit, even for documents people send me.

This has created a problem. As an engineering student, mathematics symbols are commonplace and who doesn’t love using a ∑ whenever possibl∑? Text∑dit does a decent job of them but interfacing with them is a hassle. Then, there’s absolutely no internal word count support and the 3rd party apps for word count are ridiculous. Probably the greater issue, however, is that embedded images are not opened at all. Even QuickLook can view some images in a standard Word doc, which, of course, is the file du jour in engineering.

While browsing around for a quality word count plugin for TextEdit, I came across Bean. Bean is a free and almost fully-featured word processor with integrated word count and, well, I’ve yet to come across any major feature it is missing. It’s relatively new but seems to be much further along than beta (it’s currently 1.0.1). And, since I’m a stickler for not wasting RAM, it is a paltry 2.6MB in running size (TextEdit is 22.1MB, which I thought was miniscule; Word 2008 is 63.7MB and no wonder it is so slow in opening). Bean also supports docx for those times when peers or colleagues email you an attachment in the file format with no future. (As a gesture of goodwill, always send back the file in a doc format).

So, check out Bean. Plus, if you’re a fan of having nothing or almost nothing in your dock, Spotlighting “bean” is almost a natural motion. Try it. Apple+Space then “bean”. There’s almost no effort involved. Our fingers are practically programmed to type “bean” on the standard qwerty keyboard. Plus, the application icon has a coffee mug in it - the last remaining object of productivity I needed to remain on my desktop. Oh, it’s a good day when I discover great, free software.

Edit: After having actually read the file formats article on the Bean website, I realize that it doesn’t do everything. However, I have still found a great TextEdit replacement with a word count and better-than-average embedded image support.

One year later and the memories are remarkably clear. No matter how hard I may try, the memory of the open 2nd story windows of Norris Hall still gives me chills. However, as a whole, Virginia Tech has healed; over time, the university will be unable to remember the event with any greater clarity than the monuments that now have permanence across campus. Gradually, a school shooting is all but forgotten.

The vast numbers of students at a university of this size helps to diminish the effects. Even though the 5 or 6 degrees of freedom rule applies in nearly all cases, the death of a person in a university setting only has significant effect on those within 2 or 3 degrees. The day following the shooting here, April 17, 2007, was the mourning at Cassell Coliseum. Afterwards, I ran into some friends who knew or who had friends who knew some victims that I didn’t know. The knowledge that I was so closely connected to yet another victim, without knowing him/her directly, literally hurt. You would think that only the 1st or 2nd degree of freedom would endure such anguish, but another factor is at play.

American universities come in 3 sizes: tall, grande, and venti. The tall, or private, universities have small student bodies, often well-developed curricula, and close ties. The grande are the small public universities, frequently with academic specializations or unique programs that can be especially marketed to high school seniors with an indifferent but adventurous approach to their higher academics. The venti universities are those that compete in Division I athletics and have a football team that is consistently ranked; these schools are black holes for undergraduates and have school spirit written into every piece of text you’ll find printed, scrawled, or vandalized across the campus.

Virginia Tech is a venti university where the school spirit - Hokie Spirit - is pervasive. A family connection is created by returning your acceptance letter which never ceases to exist (VT alum give an unprecedented amount of money back into the university following graduation).

When a school shooting takes place on the campus of a university like Virginia Tech, the school spirit suffers, too. This doesn’t mean that the school spirit is diminished by the catastrophe, but, rather that a type of innocence is lost for everyone. In effect, the 6 degrees of freedom rule is negated. If you’re a Hokie, you hurt.

One year later and the hurting isn’t as bad. The raucous environment of venti universities and the transient nature of graduates and incoming freshmen eliminates the attention span of its students, and suffering, or the need for healing for that matter, can be neglected. The phrase “We Will Prevail,” has worked and Virginia Tech is back on its feet.

Yet, one group still remembers April 16, 2007, with unmatched clarity.

Those in the 1st degree of freedom can never forget, never put to rest, and never replace the loss. I feel most sympathy for the families of those lost; I doubt one year of difference has provided a recession for the grief. The Hokie Nation has healed sufficiently but that veil of recovery is dwarfed by the remaining pain for those stuck in the 1st degree.

Anyways. I have no eloquent finale, only thanks to those who were caring for and loving me that day.