The drive in my macbook air died a few days ago. Happily, I found an ebay seller in China with replacement drives (was kind of tempted to get a solid state drive, but decided it wasnt't worht it with the PATA). Anyway, the macbook air is SMALL on the inside, and required removing 17screws of ~4 different lengths in order to get at the drive. The so called "zero insertion force" connector turned out to require a troubling amount of force to re-connect, but everything went well and the macbook is working again. Woo!
Today I perhaps ill-advisedly decided to ride up to col de la Charmette after work. It was a very hot day and the lower section up through Proveysieux was pretty brutal. Right before the town, an old man shouted encouragement (in the US, the equivalent behavior would be to have a soda thrown at you) and then said something else. All I could make out was "mourir", which means "to die". It is possible that he was saying you are totally NOT going to die, but I think it was actually something about my trying to die. Anyway, not something you really want to hear when you are barely a quarter of the way up. The climb past Pomarey just seems to go on for ever. Happily, it is a beautiful tree shaded road, with a creek or river somewhere nearby offering natural air conditioning. Even better: it is a dead end road, so there are none of the usual morons redlining their Renault Clios. On balance, a very enjoyable road, but quite challenging for my still recovering back and legs. I circled around at the col, at which point the bugs came out in a malevolent cloud of bitingness. No problems at descent speeds, though (unless they are bees which get trapped in your jersey like last week). Unfortunately, my tire went flat right before a sharp turn and I nearly rolled the tire of the rim. Once I came to stop, I was of course attacked by various biting flies and wasps, many of which died on the comfy gel pads of my Roeckl gloves. Eventually, I was on my way again though. Unfortunately, about 1 km later, I flatted again! I eventually made it home to le Fontanil without calling the sag wagon.
the route 18 miles, 3400 vertical of climbing. Lots of steepness.
I swapped the audio out with something better than the clicks and rattles of the camera
life in Grenoble, France as an expat postdoc life in Grenoble, France as an expat scientist life in San Francisco, CA as a biotech nerd
life in Grenoble, France as an expat scientist
