Day 7: Utah's Well Kept Secrets

Status:
Currently 2,397 miles driving or 2,041 as the crow flies from Blanding, UT to Redbones BBQ.

Day 7:
I've decided that I'm no worse than Star Wars. In fact, I'm better. So I'm going to skip days zero through six and write about seven. That is today, Thursday April 25th. Will come back to the other ones later. You have to read this whole blog post constantly scrolling downwards to provide the proper effect. In a state far far away, in a completely different timezone...

CANYONS!

Lots and lots of canyons. Utah is basically an old sandy sea bed packed down super tight, so the rock is all very weak. A little bit of rain, a river forms, a few million years and BAM, canyon. Utah residents also seem to use this technique to build (or not build) roads. They don't actually build any roads, they just wait for a few million years for a river to tunnel through a mountain, and then they slap a highway next to it. This leads to trouble.  It creates very windy (curvy) roads without barriers and shoulders where you drop hundreds of feet if you get distracted gazing at the invariably incredible view that is constantly forced upon you. It probably makes it easy to spot tourists. You just look for them at the bottoms of canyons.

The day started pretty uneventfully at Craft Creek Campground. That's in the Escalante Grand Staircase National Monument region for the uninitiated. Generally I don't sleep well until the sun comes up, and when the desert finally warms up to a toasty 32F, I get an extra solid hour or two. Turns out sweat and condensation is what makes you cold, so wearing wicking layers on both legs and torso helps a lot. This morning decided to forgo the daily dose of oatmeal and just visit the uncommonly awesome and warm coffee shop a 15 minute drive away and just on the other side of this:

In these little towns (5-6 buildings) the majority of the patrons in the store are constantly telling the owner that some relative of either one of them is waiting for either party to drop off some livestock at the other person's farm. In fact during coffee this morning, I overheard a conversation about the various chores that the people in town apparently split amongst themselves. And to make it clear how obvious the point she was making is, one of the patrons looked at me and said "Now a cow that needs to be milked, that cannot be denied, right?". To translate: means that is a chore that cannot be postponed or deprioritized because fluid dynamics being what it is makes unmilked cows very unhappy. I agreed with some confidence mostly based on intuition that, indeed, unmilked cows is not a thing one is likely to want to deny.

The next few hours I drove over Boulder Mountain, roughly 9300 feet in elevation. Snow drifts, white birch tree and elm forests. From the top, you see Escalante Grand Staircase:

 In the afternoon I made it to Capitol Reef National Park. The park follows a long north/south monocline (I learned that word today). A piece of Earth crust that got pushed up forming a cliff face on one side and a gentle slope on the other. Most of the park is on the cliff side because more people would pay to see that.
And like any other part of Utah it is riddled with canyons and flash flood warning signs.

Monocline:

On one side...

On the other.

It looked like it was about to rain so I got sketched out from all the flash flood stories and stopped hiking in washes. But not before: MOUNTAIN GOATS.

I decided to end the day by driving the unpaved road just east of Capitol Reef NP as far south as I can take it. I started the drive roughly 5pm, and as it turns out it was the perfect time because of the beautiful sun angle But before I continue, let me just say this. Paved roads are massively under-appreciated  Paved roads are amazing. Next time you are driving on one, (unless it's in Boston), stop to appreciate its uncanny smoothness. The way it doesn't seem to rattle your car to bits while dropping your wheels into massive potholes.

This drive was probably the prettiest drive I have ever done. In fact, it was so amazing my current attitude towards Utah is best captured by a Flight of the Conchords song (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LF_KaUcVLvY). I mean, what the hell Utah. It throws all these insane views at you that nobody has any time to hike. And then, the second you think you've adjusted to the level of awesome you are now being presented with, it one ups itself at the next turn. Basically the entire time the emotion you're feeling is "Fuck...when am I going to have time for all this". And I haven't even seen the better more famous parts of southern Utah yet. They're clever these guys. They put all the pretty good stuff in National Parks, but all of the really mind-blowing stuff I've seen actually hasn't been in national parks. It's on roads like this, well away from the prying eyes of tourists. I'm on to you Utah.

It was spectacular, and pictures don't even begin to do it justice, because you are surrounded on all sides by epic landscape. What's more is that you feel you are completely alone. I saw about 1 car an hour the entire time I was on the road, it seems like this isn't a commonly driven or known place. So I strongly recommend following Notom Bullfrog Basin Rd from route 24 all the way south (I have GPS tracks I'll post later for everything, just don't want to take the time now). However, I had a 4WD low-clearance Subaru. I would suggest something also all wheel drive, but with higher clearance. Like a horse. Or if you have it, a helicopter. I think the civil engineer in charge probably envisioned helicopters being the primary mode of transport down that roadway, and designed the road accordingly. The second you think the road has finally gotten OK, and you briefly glance at the incredibly alien landscape unfolding ahead and behind you, a huge pothole or stone brings you back to reality. Finally, when you think you've seen it all and can drive on any unpaved roads in your sleep, they start throwing streams and washes at you. The whole countryside is criss-crossed with little canyons and washes made by flash floods. The road winds around the big ones and goes right over the small ones. Bottom of every hill is an axle destroying, tire eating little mini canyon a foot or two deep. Also traction control really helps make it seem like a rally race you're going to win rather than die in.

As you drive you keep seeing newer and newer shapes and colors that just don't make any sense. I'm going to throw a bunch of pictures at you because that's how Utah threw it at me.

You can see the road winding far below.

In the end: Victory!

From Cardboard to Iron Oxide (part 1)

So, it's time to pay the debt I accrued by not writing anything since the entry where I promised to write a lot. The trip is now well underway, but I'm going to try and retrace my steps back, which will be difficult since I usually have trouble remembering where I had lunch by dinner time. The last few days can be split into three distinct phases. I think it's of no surprise to anyone that they are: last hectic days at SpaceX, couple of hectic days preparing for the trip, and then hectic freedom. By the way, a note, all of this was happening in the context of the events in Boston that I don't talk about here, but my sympathy for everyone affected. It's my home. But that's out of scope here, so I will say no more.

The last days at SpaceX were great and full of ITAR protected stuff. This just means I left a lot of work until last minute. A day of busy coding interrupted by frequent calls from a somewhat confused HR. We had a great last day however. It can be described as something like this: code, code, code, code, pack, commit code, beer, tapas, beer, tapas, beer, beer, quick break to transition to a larger bar, beer, beer, beer, build breakage due to my commit, beer....beer....be. A ton of people made it out, and it was great to see everyone. I will miss everyone. Although, protip: quitting one's job leaves you with a sense of freedom that has no equal. Highly recommended at least once to everyone.

Then I started packing. Which is both depressing and interesting. I love change, but I do dwell on things too, so mixed feelings. While packing I discovered many items that have been lost to civilization since undergrad (I have to specify this now, since I'm fairly certain I will have a 'grad' phase soon). This was great, but I ended up tossing my German text book and my RS-232 breakout board anyways. Kept the Diablo II CD because you just never know.

The following day, Meir, the dude from the moving company showed up. Meir ended up being a kind mannered Israeli who used to live roughly a couple of blocks from our house in Boston. When my neighbor tried to get his Acura out of the driveway that was partially blocked by Meir's truck, Meir exhibited his Israeli ex-military side. Meir gave him a casual wave of the hand and said "Of course you'll make it". To my untrained eye it looked like if the Acura's paint-job was any thicker, it probably wouldn't make it by. My (ex) neighbor did not share Meir's cavalier attitude towards his own shiny Acura, and made Meir move the truck. This earned him the title of "Californian Yuppie" sometime after the Acura had disappeared over the hill. Meir of course had also served in Israel as infantry. I instantly regretted wearing my IDF t-shirt that day, due to a misplaced sense of guilt I always feel in these kinds of situations. Due to some cosmic sense of humor or justice, I met 4 Israelis on that day. That's four times I had to guiltily explain I don't speak Hebrew. All in all, surprisingly great moving experience.

Then, it was time to pack for the road trip. I went to REI to buy all the gear I could possibly imagine needing over the course of a 38 day drive and hike trip. As it turns out, my over active imagination brought REI roughly $1,100 dollars of revenue. Shopping in REI I stumbled over a guy that had some grizzly bear advice for me. I was rewarded with some colorful descriptions in which grizzlies can either pretend to charge you, or actually charge you. I was very interested at what point does one become the other. My question was answered consecutively by a dramatic pause, raised eye brows and a surprisingly helpful "Oh. you'll know". I guess I'll find out, although personally hopefully not.

Packing for such a long time is surprisingly difficult. You have to pack gear based on several characteristics: how often you think you'll need to use it (average utility), and how long you're willing to dig around for said object in the car (level of necessity). Those seem like they're the same thing, but they're not. For example: toilet paper ranks pretty low in one category and very high in another. If it ranks high for you in both, consider yourself lucky, I guess. To complicate the issue, there is an inherent desire to keep like things in like containers. Long story short, first thing I will do when I hit Salt Lake City is to buy a roof container. I've realized that surface area is king for these things, efficiency be damned.

Since then I've hit Grand Canyon, and Zion, and am heading into Bryce tomorrow early morning. That post will be accompanied by lots of photos, and its own set of stories. That's the Iron Oxide part of things.

Changing Life in 2 Weeks

I've decided it's time to pick up blogging again. Empirical evidence (see below) suggests that I only have the attention span to make a single entry. I intend to break that record.

I am on the tail end of an awesome 3.5 years working at SpaceX, and it is time for a change. At this point I'm going to spare you lots of sappy commentary about my growth as an engineer, and even as a person, and all the great folks working super hard at SpaceX. It's all there, but that's just not in the culture to wax poetic. We use lots of action verbs, say you instead of we when somebody screws up, and fist bump each other when somebody doesn't. I've had my share being on the giving and receiving end of both. If it wasn't for the lack of [perfect] documentation we would probably just grunt at each other rather than talk. Particularly on Saturday mornings.

It's great, but interests change. In 12 days I will be departing SpaceX. In the fall I will start my aero/astro Masters at MIT in Boston (home!) at the Space Systems Lab (SSL). Expect more acronym soup when that happens. Except I'm not really really leaving SpaceX.

Sometimes, when a relationship has lasted so long, and it's time to break up, neither side can seem to really make the tough call. You meander around the truth, and constantly forget inane objects at their place so that you can come by and pick them up. That's how it is. I'll be contracting with SpaceX during my prolonged absence. It's an open relationship (Californian employment laws). It might not work out, but I think we're both willing to work at it. Also I'm probably going to stash my coffee mug somewhere there just in case.

In the meantime, I am faced with a rare period of zero obligation. Time for irresponsible decisions.

Phase 1: Road trip across the US hitting as many national parks as I can.
The goal? Boston.
Specifically? Redbones barbecue in Somerville, MA.
WTF? Because I've never been there and I've heard it's not a nice place to grab lunch. This trip is so epic, so not even something this stupid can cheapen it. All distances from this point on will be noted as distance to Redbones.

Trip status: 2604.21 Miles as the crow flies. 5538 miles driving per route below.

Trip Plans
The big destinations: Grand Canyon, Zion, Bryce, Arches, Glacier, Yellowstone, Grand Tetons, Badlands.

 Rough plan is 18 days of 5 hours driving per day, and about 17-18 days of just hiking.



View Larger Map
I am massively open to suggestions of places to stop by on the road, as I feel woefully unprepared for this trip. I will post a tentative schedule in a later post. If anything, that will break my one post record.

I am also open to company. I will post some tool that will allow people to sign up for slots, I already have people interested. Now I need to commit to a schedule. I have to be responsibly irresponsible.

What's Google Like?

What's Google Like?

So, this is a long delayed post about what is it like to be at Google. Please note, that everything here is absolutely and unquestionably true, although somewhat biased, exaggerated, and glorified, Google has its secrets. I will disclose only that which is available for public domain.

That said, I arrived to Google for the first time on a limo. Now, don't let the image run away with you. It wasn't a long black Lincoln or Cadillac sedan filled with attractive women sporting Google paraphernalia. It was a limo bus filled with sleepy but determined engineers, ready to face yet another grueling day at the Google utopia. Since it is a shuttle, it deserves a description. Comfy leather chairs, tables if you want them, free wifi.

Having arrived at the Googleplex, (refer to Google Earth and Google Maps Street Views for pictures of the area until I get them), I had my first breakfast at a Google cafeteria. The variability of food is initially staggering. So is the realization that this food is completely free of charge. Biology has always taught us that there is no free lunch. This great rule of nature is broken thrice a day at Google by thousands of employees.

It is suddenly difficult to chose. Mounds of organic strawberries, peaches, eggs, smoked salmon (!), yogurt, deserts, the list goes on and on. Every morning, Google personnel are expected to make choices, and pick some subset of all the available meals. Since we were not yet Google personnel, we opted not to make any choices, and took everything. It was rather quite good.

Breakfast was followed by orientation, which was not particularly interesting, it was marked by one event. Watching a close to real time list of searches being entered into Google around the world displayed on a projector (of course a very heavily filtered list since it is seen by all), we saw the search string “does pulling out help.” Satisfied by the anonymous searcher's ignorance, my particular group of interns of which I was part went to stand closer to the rather popular Naked Juice fridge, and chat there instead.

Ah, the fridges. A hungry Google engineer (an as of yet undocumented phenomenon), walking down a hallway is likely to come upon one of the fridges that are densely sprinkled around campus. This fridge will contain some of the fanciest and most refreshing drinks that money can buy. Said Google engineer can grab himself a bottle of Smartwater(tm), one of ten flavors of vitamin water, tea of all colors and textures, Naked Juice(tm), etc etc etc. Continuing down the hallway, a much heavier bag slapping against his hip, the engineer will suddenly come upon a mini kitchen. Upon arrival to this mini-utopia, the engineer will forget his recently acquired mini-stash of liquids. He would now rather stuff his laptop bag with organic strawberries, roasted almonds, sushi, chocolates, cookies, all of the highest quality. All of these items are confusingly available completely free of charge. Although these two events are enough to instill fear into most engineers, the now somewhat less hungry Google engineer marches on, determined to reach the bottom of this mystery.

Further exploration of the mini kitchen unveils a huge espresso machine, milk steamer, and time machine, all conveniently packed into a tiny container the size of a small dresser. In case the engineer would courageously decide to use this machine, pre-warmed mugs are conveniently placed on top. Nearby, a large row of organic gourmet teas are provided. Having found no answer for the riddle surrounding this haven of free food, the engineer trudges on.

Having had his first lunch in a largish cafeteria, where scallops were served in a sauce that had more ingredients than can be bit packed into one's unaccustomed head, aside from tens of other dishes, the engineer suddenly feels a primal urge to complete of nature's most common cycles. Finding the men's bathroom, the engineer is filled with a sense of familiarity and home. In this wild land, there is always one technology that never changes. However, it seems that Google waits in the most unlikely of places. The toilet seat is blistering with wires like an EKG patient. Gingerly sitting down on this toilet that is doubtlessly infused with MRI capabilities, the patient is surprised to feel warmth. Yes, warmth. Google has somehow done away with one of the most ancient and basest of all human acts. The wince from the cold porcelain surface. The feeling is unnatural, but welcome. However, the good comes with the bad. Next to the main user interface on which the engineer is sitting, is a smallish white command center filled with buttons with pictures depicting a number of startling and discomforting scenes. The conclusion is that having pressed a button, the toilet will immediately and without warning reproduce whatever it is the button shows. This is an unhappy thought, as words like pressure, rear, front, deodorizing, wand, and temperature play key roles on the buttons. Deciding not to tempt fate, and therefore using all the most default of options, the engineer leaves, alienated even from that which was once intimate and familiar.

The next few days the engineer spends attempting to sort out the strange new world he has become immersed in. Free meals three times a day, ranging from salmons cooked in a number of ingenious ways, to crepes, delicately designed rather than prepared. Haircuts, oil changes, equipment, pool tables, massages, smoothies, motorized scooters, laundry service, are all available, mostly free of charge, and of the highest quality.

Having a weekend to sort one's thoughts, constantly meditating on Google's ruthless treatment of its employees with a barrage of free high quality products, the engineer begins to understand. Sitting at his desk, there is absolutely no doubt in his mind, that whatever he might want, it is not only free, it is often no more than fifteen feet from his desk. There is simply nothing left to seek, nothing left to want. All that one has to do is work. All is provided for him. Suddenly, one feels no desire to go home. Home is filled with objects one has paid for, things that are not infinite, of mediocre quality, and things that once consumed or used, will soon run out and disappear. It is now 11:52pm here, and yet I would rather stay and work, doing so happily, and of my own accord. Approximately 5-10% of all employees are still here, some of whom are full time. Google magic seems to work.

This is a light summary of the initial Google experience, for those interested, as I remember it.