Tale of the Armadillo: origins

Years ago...

... small grey claws scratch the asphalt of north Texas.  The small form watches as a storm passes over the savanna miles away and disappears over the horizon.  The brief flashes of lightning reflect off of his dark eyes.  His ears twitch to the sound of a passing scissor tail, and when silence settles he takes his first tentative steps across the road.  At the edge, he turns left and aims himself toward the growing dark.

I was in good company in those days.  Smith, Zimmerman, Meeks, and Falzarano were a new family under the stripes and thunderclap of the U.S. Air Force.  We were an inseparable group of adventurers brought together without our will, but thankful all the same.  In those days, we worked and then we ranged the Texas we found ourselves a part of.  Like Edward Abbey, I wanted to see the country I had sworn to defend.  And like Abbey, I wanted to see it up close, warts and all.

We made a list.  In the back of class, during the down time, we set down on paper the things we wanted.  A list of demands if you will.  In the course of our time there, we achieved everything... almost.  We never did get our hands on a stuffed armadillo.  

We could have bought one.  Anyone can.  There seem to be quite a few taxidermists who will mount an armadillo, and if you have a few hundred bucks, you can own one.  But that is no way to hunt armadillos.  Not for us:  we needed a story to go with everything.  

Cowboy hats from our first rodeo.  Compact discs which had become the soundtrack to our road trips.  A poster from the Buddy Holly Symposium.  Pint glasses from benders and ash trays from cheap hotels.  All of it the evidence of our travels, and all of it loaded with the legend of our time in Texas.  The armadillo, though, escaped our grasp.  

In the years since, I made it a symbol.  It became the mark of how I look at the world: a place of immense possibility.  A place where the adventurer will always come away with a treasure, if not the one they seek.  Because everyone has a story, it only needs to be told. 

Doin it in Style: PART 2

So I have been going back and forth with my partner Meers-cat on this.  He pronounced a couple of the designs, "badass" and, for those of you who don't know, that means they are aesthetically pleasing in a way which brings to mind a certain strength or powerful character.

Badass.

Anyway, here are the designs in one page.

Some of them are not even race related in the slightest.  Still, when the idea came to me I put it down, so there they are.   I did eliminate some designs which were just not working for me at all, but for the most part I kept everything.  After discussing it, we came to a decision.  And here it is (drum roll, etc.):

The majority of the lines are based on Maori tattoos.  Since the skull was supposed to be "tribal" in the tattoo sense, I decided to research authentic tribal tattoos.  The Pacific is filled with great work done in the traditional style, and since they are all islanders, the style translates to boats really well.  It isn't a stretch to see water in the lines, and since the islanders have a long history of being badass (Hawaiians remember ate Captain Cook, and he couldn't even land on New Zealand) I figure it works.  Doubtful that we will get into the theme so far as to become cannibals, but the lines are nice.

I am going to try to get the graphics printed and then I will apply them to the refinished hull.  If not that, then I will probably just freehand the curves and mask the text and details.  

NEXT POST: the Tale of the Armadillo.

Doin it in Style

Alright

So, I have been working over the hull of the Curve, and giving some thought into styling.
I know that this doesn't make the boat all that much quicker, but like Mies Van Der Rohe said to a student: if you're going to make something, why not make it beautiful?

In design, function is my ultimate aim.  However, it should still be pleasing to be successful.  Granted that could lead to all sorts of semantic arguments about aesthetics and taste, but I won't bother with that.  I am just going to design the graphics for a boat.
I have to incorporate the race number (1679) and I want our names on the hull.  Also, the boat's name across the transom and both my armadillo symbol and Meers-cat's skull.

So far this is where I am, but there are many changes to make.  These are quick designs done in Adobe Illustrator.  That is the easiest way to make graphics and it makes it really fast when changing parts or colors.

It started with a real conservative military style tail flash.  Then I added color and some breaks in the field.
As it goes, I have added more curve and then tried to resolve the tattoo lines with that of the armadillo.
It's coming along, but I am getting close to being real hard to paint.  I have no desire to do multi-color masking and such, but like Dave says, "Design it, and figure out how to build it later."

The Target Remains

Well, we are going to have to change gears a bit.  I just go word that I can change class and the Meers-Cat and I are going to take on the Kaw-nivore 150.  I don't know if that is the official name.  I liked Kaw-nibal 150.  Seemed more appropriate.  But here is what will happen.

The Learning Curve is no racer.  It needs a refinish on the hull, some better decking, and seats that will be comfortable in a long haul.  It needs to be outfitted with good lights because of the nature of the river.  It needs to be worked on.   So, while I will not continue with the pedal powered boat for a while, I will continue to run this blog with the changes I am making on the Curve.

Of course, I will still put up witty banter and clever pictures.  In the future, I hope to update this from the race in real time.  But let's not get excited: we've got a lot of work to do.

Let's get started.

Never Mind That

Upon further exploration, I am not sure that my earlier ideas will work.

My designs are all based on a very fast hull with little wetted surface.  The Learning Curve will not work with what I have built.  The only hope now is that I can re-class as a tandem team and race the Learning Curve (never thought I would say that) with a partner.
Joe Meers (the Meers-cat) is onboard for the race, so now it is up to Scott.  If he green lights the changes, I will be back on the water.

Of course, the Missouri could suddenly change it's mind and return to it's normal course, as the water up-river evaporates and people get their homes back, but I am going to bet on Scott.

Let's Just Think About This

Okay.
Sorry about the last post.  Some people thought it was a bit vague, so I will clarify the situation and propose something different.

The MR340 will not be held this year due to flooding.  The Coast Guard won't let us run normal, and it is doubtful that a delay will solve the problem.  It is bad news, but we can't do anything about the river (for proof of this, just look at a broken levee).  As they say: river is as river does.

In it's place, we will be racing 150 miles on the Kansas or Kaw River.  It will be a shorter race, but will require much skill.  Unlike the Missouri, it is not very deep and has a lot of turns.  In short, the boat I am building will not take it at speed.  Furthermore, there will be portages.

Now, let's examine this for a second.
The thesis here is that a boat designed with the proper mechanics can compete with excellent paddlers in ultra-marathon river racing.  This being the case, I can use this change of venue as an opportunity to prove my thesis.
When I was in college, I build a wood strip canoe.  It is called the Learning Curve because I had no idea what I was doing and decided to build a boat so I could learn to build a boat.  I still have it and use it often.
It's ugly and slow for racing, but it's tough and it was built to teach me.

So, I could take my mechanics and install them on the learning curve.  It would be easy enough.  The hull is done, and it has a transom for the prop.  It can take a lot of weight, and I have run that across sand and gravel and steel and concrete, and it is tough enough to take it.

It would prove my mechanics and it would mean I could compete solo in the pedal class.
In the end, it could go back to being my first canoe without much modification.

I'm warming to the idea... quick.

Go with the Flow

"There he goes. One of God's own prototypes. A high-powered mutant of some kind never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live, and too rare to die."
- Hunter S. Thompson


My friend Will sent that to me cause it reminded him of me.  Very cool.  My ego needed that.
However, as I approach a big milestone, I got this on the forum today from Scott, founder and Mastermind of several races:


"Back in 2005 when planning for the first race was underway, the original vision was for it to be held on the Kansas River.  A much shorter race, but equally as grueling of an adventure because of the challenges of a sandy, braided river.  The race was reconsidered for the Missouri because of some portages and other logistical issues.  It all turned out well and we've had wonderful success with the MR340.  But this year that door is closed, locked and under water.  So, we've dusted off the notes from 2005 on how to put on an ultra marathon on the Kansas or "Kaw" River.  That's where the race will be held this year, scheduled for the exact same time frame as the MR340, July 19th-22nd."


That's right folks: MR340 is done for 2011.
There will still be a race, but it will be on the Kaw (Kansas) River in Kansas.  
Different water, different conditions, so the Veloci-Dillo will not do.  


Shit. 

Back On

Alright.

So, Dad is back from the hospital and aside from helping out as normal, I am back in the barn.
Between last night and this morning, I managed to fix the ratcheting problem, assemble the flywheel carrier bearing assembly, and bandage one of the dogs (nasty laceration from one of the other dogs I think).

I am going out tonight.  I feel like a little howling downtown will do me good.  Should assemble everything tomorrow and be able to post video of the working mechanics all the way to the prop.  I'm still concerned about a deadline, but the river seems to be set on a delayed start, so I may have extra time.  I can't count on it, but since I don't miss deadlines, I expect to be assembled and ready to roll on race day.
If there is a delay, I will use the interim to test and train.

I will still loose nine days to a fishing trip in June, but that was factored in.  This is a lot.  I still have to construct the hull and figure out the controls as well as build/refine the prop assembly.  Lots to do, lots to do.  Things to do, things to get done.
I won't bother with the details, but tell you when they are done.

Carry on.

Development

So, fast on the heels of my last post, here are the latest developments.

There is a decent chance that the MR340 might be delayed by the rising waters.  From what I am gathering on the forum, there is rain everywhere up river and the Army Corps of Engineers will be letting water out of the dams.  This could mean a delay of the start by about a month.
In some ways this is good.  My boat is nowhere near completion and I could use the extra time.  Also, while this is an adventure race and carries with it a certain amount of danger (a healthy amount), the safety of the racers is important.
The bad news is that my ground support may not be able to make the change.  So, I have set up a second crew of the Meers-cat.  Joe Meers is a mechanical engineer/adventurer who helps me out with adventures and various math problems.  Should it be necessary, he will jump in and act as my support team.  He should be excellent for the job since he has canoeing experience with me and has his own car.

I do want to say I hope everyone in the affected areas of the country are safe and that my prayers are with them.  I don't want anyone to think that I place the race over the importance of their safety or that of their family.  To help out, try the Salvation Army, or go to the Red Cross website.

In Limbo

Sorry for the lack of posts lately.  Things around the house have been complicated of late.
A few days ago, my dad got sick, and as all of it evolved, I needed to get him to the hospital.  Looks like pneumonia and such (won't get into details) but we got him there before it got too terrible.  Still, it is taking more than a visit to the doctor to recover.  As you would expect, I have been spending my days at the hospital teasing him about the good-looking nurses and helping out when I can, so the boat is in a state of limbo.  I expect he will be home soon, and I will resume work when he is.

Being in the hospital is not something I enjoy.  It's the environment I think.  I don't relish the controlled feel of it.  It has certainly set my designer senses tingling as I watch the way the staff uses machines and interacts with a host of devices.  It's all very clever, but it seems that there is a lack of compatibility between the machines themselves.  Also, the interfaces are cumbersome.  Charting is all electronic now, but data input seems to take even longer and lack any sort of graphic interpretation which makes the whole thing look antiquated.  There is a lot of data taken and it it needs interpretation and monitoring.  There is a meaningful opportunity for a standardized data system and a more user-friendly interface.  Hats off to the nurses et al. who manage to work through all of that mass to get what they need for the proper care.

Anyway, this is just my take.  The staff doesn't usually have time to interview with me, so much is speculation through observation.  I will return this blog to it's regularly scheduled programing soon as I can.

Please Stand By.