Credit: NASA/JHU APL/CIW

I've been supporting MESSENGER's third flyby of Mercury last week. I've got a description of how it went in a friends-locked entry. The contact-heavy work schedule has scrambled my circadian rhythm from day to day, so that one of the reasons I'm looking forward to my upcoming vacation is because I'll have the opportunity to resume a consistent sleep schedule. Since I've been subjected to a simulated sort of jet lag practically every day for the past few weeks, I don't expected to be fazed at all by the real thing.

Credit: DP

Last week I gave a HacDC Lightning Talk on Kōdō, the Japanese Way of Incense, in which I'm by no means an expert. But I know a little, enough to give a five-minute overview and demo. When I go to Kyoto later this month I'm going to attend a Kōdō demo by a genuine expert, and next month I'll be making kneaded incense (nerikō) at a Tankokai DC workshop. So in the near future I'll know a lot more. Let me know if you're interested in an informal demo of the wood-chip incense that's heated by charcoal in an ash-filled censer; I'm happy to share it. The Lightning Talks event was a great success, with a stimulating variety of topics and speakers.

Credit: Mackenzie

On Saturday I led the DC LinuxChix contingent of a group outing (along with AWC Maryland and GWU Women in Computer Science) to the National Cryptologic Museum. We tagged along with a docent-led tour and learned quite a bit, though we only scratched the surface of the museum's fascinating collection.

Credit: Mackenzie

On Saturday evening I joined seelevarcuzzo and Mackenzie at the Japan-America Society's Otsukimi, a traditional moon-viewing event held in this case at the National Arboretum. It was great fun, with a bento dinner, sake, haiku composition, some slightly-unseasonal-feeling bon odori dancing, and even a little practice of our Japanese. I brought a borrowed telescope and set it up to have a good look at the moon; we were lucky to have a clear sky with only a few thin clouds occasionally floating artistically in front of the moon. I wish the event had lasted longer, as we missed our chance to wander around the Bonsai & Penjing Museum and it felt like we were just getting started as it was announced that it was time to pack up and leave.

Credit: Indy

On Sunday I went climbing at White Rocks, a spur from the temporarily-closed Sugarloaf Mountain. The weather was fantastic. I attempted Sugar & Spice (a 5.2 on the Yosemite Decimal System) and Lucifer (a 5.10/5.11), summiting neither but enjoying the climbs nonetheless. I'd be tempted to buy my own climbing shoes and harness but I'm a little discouraged that the local climbing gym has discontinued their auto belay system that would have allowed me to practice on my own.

And now to prepare for Tankokai DC's Autumn Chakai this weekend and my upcoming Japan trip that starts next week. Ack! I don't quite feel prepared for either.

I've ridden my bicycle 120.4 miles (194 km) this week. I'm pretty sure that's more mileage than it has seen in the previous two decades I've owned it.

Last autumn elwing2000 convinced me to sign up with her for a May 10-13 women-only beginner-level bicycling tour on Maryland's eastern shore. It sounded like fun, and I'd have plenty of time to train, so I agreed. My bike is a ten-speed Schwinn Woodlands hybrid-style, not an ideal road bike, but acceptable. In preparation I picked up a rear rack and bag so I could carry things like a windbreaker, camera, binoculars, and snacks; a handlebar mount for my GPS receiver; a couple of jerseys and an extra pair of cycling shorts; and a new gel saddle, cycling socks, and water bottle clamp thanks to my brother and sister-in-law's Christmastime generosity.

They say around here there are only two seasons: winter and summer, and in the weeks leading up to the cycling tour, that truism held. It went from cold to sweltering to raining for nearly two weeks straight. This is my way of excusing the fact that I didn't train nearly as much as I should have. My parents introduced me to the BWI Trail when they visited, and I rode it another time on my own in spite of a forecast chance of thunderstorms, but that was about it. In desperation at the continuous rain outdoors, I borrowed a trainer setup from seelevarcuzzo a week before the tour (thanks!). Miraculously, though, the weather forecast for the tour itself was looking perfectly mild and rain-free.

elwing2000 and I drove to Easton mid-day Sunday, checked in at the inn, met the other riders, and embarked on our first group ride, a leisurely backroads ride to Unionville and back (18.3 miles / 29 kilometers). This was my first time riding on "real" roads. I knew the guidelines, but I'd never done it before, so riding through (green) traffic lights, using hand signals, and taking up my share of a lane all came as a revelation. The drivers in that area seem to be used to bicyclists and are refreshingly deferential.

Monday's weather was, in an unpleasant surprise, cool and rainy. Still, we rode, this time starting at the visitors' center of Blackwater National Wildlife Refuge. My bike's stubby off-road tires were not an advantage when we encountered a muddy, unpaved patch of Wildlife Drive. While others' slick tires rode right over the terrain, my tires gripped it and flung it over my bike and over me. It was a mess. Adding the obvious speed advantage of road bikes, I came away from this trip with some serious bike envy. :)

Despite the rain, I rode 36.9 miles (59 kilometers) that day, my longest ride to date. Unfortunately, it seems my GPS reciever, a Garmin eTrex Legend, was not as water-resistant as I thought. Ever since I changed its batteries on Monday, it hasn't been able to power on.

Tuesday's weather was back to nice for our St. Michael's Ferry Ride. We rode from Easton down to Oxford, where we caught the Oxford–Bellevue Ferry across the Tred Avon River. From there, we rode up to St. Michael's for lunch at the iconic Crab Claw Restaurant. I feasted on lump crabmeat cocktail and steamed oysters. I was surprised to see "Chesapeake Bay Oysters" on the menu in a non-"R" month, but they turned out to be decent-sized and tasty. From the large second-floor window we had a view of, among other things, the Schooner Sultana, the same vessel in which elwing2000, her husband, and I sailed across the bay last May.

Some of the other bicyclists pedaled back to Easton after lunch, but my legs were exhausted by the 33.5 miles (54 kilometers) before lunch. I poked about St. Michael's a little, enjoying an ice cream cone and a stop inside the Chesapeake Bay Maritime Museum's gift shop. Alas, I didn't have time to re-visit the museum itself before it was time to hop on the sag wagon for a lift back to Easton.

Wednesday morning's 20.7-mile (33-kilometer) ride took us north of Easton, by a historic Little Red Schoolhouse. One thing on this ride that piqued our curiosity, amidst the open farmland, was an incongruously long, high, opaque fence along a property on one side of Old Cordova Road. Research farm? Nudist colony?

After Wednesday morning's ride, we packed up, checked out of the inn, gathered for lunch, and said our goodbyes. I really enjoyed the support of our guides and fellow riders, and I would certainly consider signing up for another, similar-level cycling tour the next time I have some spare vacation time. Here are all of my photos from the cycling tour.

Today I participated for the first time in Bike-to-Work Day. I joined about a dozen other members of my workplace's bicycling club for the 5.5-mile (9-kilometer) ride to work. As recently as yesterday I wasn't sure I would do it, what with the chance of rain and the steep hills to climb and the car traffic and the logistics of showering and changing at work (when I hadn't prepared by keeping anything like a towel or clothes at work). Maybe it was my feeling of a need to keep this cycling momentum going, or maybe it was knowing that I'd have two of my closer co-workers riding with me, but I went for it, and I'm proud I did. That said, I don't think I'll be biking to work on a regular basis, between the scary drivers around here, strenuousness of the hills between me and work, and inability to carry my laptop on my bike without investing in panniers and a sturdier rear rack. I think I'll stick to riding recreationally on trails and back roads.

On Friday I went with newlyweds elwing2000 and Brian for a day sail across the Chesapeake Bay aboard the Schooner Sultana [my pictures]. We left Chestertown around eight in the morning and motored down the Chester River, whose banks remain relatively undeveloped. There were seven crewmembers and six of us passengers, if I remember correctly. Except for the sound of our motor (without which it would've taken days to get down the river), it was quiet, with the captain handing us the binoculars every few minutes to get a good look at an eagle or other bird. elwing2000 took a turn at the tiller during this part of the trip, keeping us between the red and green navigational light structures along the river. Once we reached the bay, the crew unfurled the sails. The weather was nearly perfect. We leisurely ate our lunches amidships, got a tour belowdecks, peered at nautical charts modern and antique, tried our hands at using a quadrant to determine our latitude, learned how "knots" were used to measure the ship's speed, heard about oyster farming in the Chesapeake, read a copy of the original ship's log, witnessed the firing of one of the swivel guns, and helped furl the foresail as we approached our destination, Annapolis. Once we crossed under the Chesapeake Bay Bridge, the Friday afternoon leisure boat traffic became noticeable, as smaller craft would approach us to take pictures. I took my turn at the helm around then, under the crew's guidance about where to aim. There weren't a lot of fine adjustments made in either direction or sail trim so far as I noticed, but then my prior sailing experience has been mostly in smaller boats on small bodies of water under rather more variable wind conditions. Upon reaching City Dock at Annapolis—the first place I saw the Sultana when I paddled by it last year—we said goodbye to our gracious crew and disembarked. We stopped by Capital Teas (cardamom tea for me!), dined at Middleton Tavern, and indulged ourselves at two different fudge shops before gathering our cars—a nontrivial task with one of them on the other side of the Chesapeake bay—and heading home.

There was no sleeping in for me the next morning, though, as I joined co-worker (and veteran climber) Mark and several other people for some beginners' rock-climbing at Sugarloaf Mountain. I'm so out of shape that just ascending the mountain to the climbing area was a trial. We started out at Boy Scout Ledges, where Mark set up his rope for two people to climb (each with a belayer) simultaneously, one on "Highway" and one on "Bypass". I climbed "Highway", which is a bit easier, and really enjoyed it. Several participants had climbing shoes, which remind me of Vivo Barefoots, the minimalist shoes I've been considering buying as a next-best alternative to barefootedness. It was a shame that so much broken glass littered the trails in this area; I think it would've been interesting, if not actually easier than in my generic athletic shoes, to try climbing barefooted.

After a couple of hours, we ceded Boy Scout Ledges to some actual Boy Scouts and moved on to Middle Earth, which was much more daunting to my beginner's eyes. There were a number of climbers already there, but by the time we'd eaten lunch we had a spot. It went more slowly here, between the single rope, greater height, and tougher climb. It looked frustrating enough that I didn't attempt it. The others did, but they were getting tired, and I was giving myself a sore neck from looking up so much. So I pretty much just chilled out. It's a beautiful area, and I wished I'd brought a book. As it was, I'm glad I brought my camera; here are my photos from this climbing outing.