Anticipation

Summer on my calendar has officially arrived. The fourth of July celebrations have already come and gone and Le Tour de France is underway! This morning the sun peeked over the horizon in California at 5:45 a.m., a comfortable 60 degrees, the skies were turquoise blue, the winds calm, bird’s singing quietly in the background, and the fresh smell of the trees filled the air. Well, not exactly, you see today’s chore was to empty and completely scrub the cats litter box. As you might imagine the smells were not exactly that of a floral bouquet. Anyway . . .

For me, summer continues to build the anticipation of this year’s annual high Sierra adventure. This will be my fourth consecutive year wildness backpacking near Bishop, CA. It’s less than two weeks away and my motivation for training increases daily as the trip approaches. My challenge is to not overdo it, maintain a balance between workout and proper rest.

As a devoted cyclist and French compatriot, anticipation always runs high with the start of Le Tour de France (Le Tour). This year’s 2,277 mile bicycle race was officially started by the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge and Prince Harry. Saturday’s first stage of 118 miles began in Leeds with the finish in Harrogate. The familiar voices of NBC broadcasters Phil Liggett and Paul Sherwen made it eminently clear that favored to win this first stage was Mark Cavendish. With England's Royal family waiting in anticipation at the finish to see their native countryman win, 984 feet from the finish line he crashed. Sadly, after all of his work to get to Le Tour Mark Cavendish is out after dislocating his shoulder. What a stark reminder that all the training and preparation is useless when your fragile body is injured.

The drama of yesterday morning’s Le Tour reminded me that as your body gets stronger you must exercise caution and care when training. Yes, accidents, I suppose, are inevitably a part of sport, but I’m moving forward alert and attentive. The last thing I want to do is inadvertently twist an ankle, or injure a knee. The slightest injury would end the trip before it even begins. Much like what happened to Cavendish.

Thankfully I can report my training regiment has been consistent. Since purchasing the new backpack I’ve logged over 30 miles with a loaded pack. Alternating between power walking, cycling, and hiking I’ve now logged over 150 miles since June 20th. Wow, that’s hard to believe!

So, today I’m officially designating it as a rest day. It’s still early, I wonder how stage two of Le Tour is progressing? With Cavendish out I’m sure last years champion, Team Sky’s Chris Froome will be the favored rider. Pardon me while I go flip on the television.

Stay tuned . . .

Comments

Confidently Wrong: The Art of the AI Tall Tale

In this episode, A chat with Adamas the Chef on hidden recipes causing digital hallucinations. Pull up a chair and pour yourself a fresh cup of coffee—and please, for your own sake, taste it first. We need to have a quiet chat about why your computer sometimes decides to reinvent reality with the confidence of a five-star chef who has clearly lost his mind. In the world of technology, we call it a hallucination . It sounds pretty dramatic, doesn’t it? As if the computer decided to ignore your instructions altogether in favor of a vivid, technicolor imagination that simply hasn’t met reality yet. But in truth, an AI hallucination isn’t a breakdown; it’s just a very confident, very polite mistake. Think of it like our friend Adamas , the Chef. Adamas is a master of the kitchen, but he is also a bit of a romantic who refuses to say “I don’t know.” When you ask him for a classic recipe he hasn’t made in years, he doesn’t stop to consult a cookbook—that’s far too pedestrian. Instead, ...

Opening Day Magic 2026 . . .

It’s back. Baseball—yes, baseball ! If you’re someone who finds themselves inexplicably drawn to this peculiar ritual, let’s be honest with each other: it’s a bit odd, right? I mean, 162 games. That’s a lot of hot dogs, a lot of standing around, and a lot of grown men in oddly tailored trousers spitting with remarkable precision. And yet, here we are, poised on the precipice of another season. Thursday, March 26, 2026, to be precise—Opening Day. It’s a curious thing, this Opening Day. You walk into a stadium, or turn on the TV, and suddenly, everyone is infected with a highly contagious strain of . . . Optimism . It’s a spectacular form of collective amnesia. All of last year’s fumbles, the endless losing streaks, the existential dread of watching your bullpen implode in the eighth inning—poof. Gone. It’s entirely replaced by a wide-eyed, childlike belief that this year, finally, the baseball gods will smile upon us. The Cycle of Hope and Despair As a Cubs fan, I know this cycle intim...

Ode To Gemology

For over 80 years, students of gemology have struggled with spectrums, bewildered by birefringence, and simply plagued by pleochroism. The following sonnet is guaranteed to bring a smile to your face, a glow to your heart, and a simple reminder that students of life and gemology rediscover nature's gifts every day. Ode to Gemology , by a GIA on-campus student. Dispersion, fire, adventurescence. Orient, sheen, or iridescence. Refractive index, high or low. The luster should indicate that, you know. Polarization, double or single. What to do now, they intermingle. Pleochroic colors you really should see. Was that only two, or actually three? Birefringence should help you a lot. Use your polarizer and watch the spot. Now, did it jump most on low or high? Sure, you can get it if you really try! Your liquids should be an aid, I think. Does it float, suspend, or slowly sink? Just use your imagination now. (He doesn't see me wiping my brow.) Solid inclusions or only bubbles? Huh, th...

The Cowardice of Corporate Jargon

Picture this: an email lands in your inbox. A colleague—maybe even a friend—needs a favor, a second set of eyes, a moment of your time. You sigh, stare at the glow of your monitor, and type: “I’d love to help, but I just don’t have the bandwidth right now.” Hit send. Problem solved. Conscience clear. Except it shouldn’t be. Most of us have said or sent that line at least once, hoping it would land gently. On the surface, it’s perfect—efficient, polite, even self-aware. And that’s exactly the problem. It lets you decline without ever quite telling the truth. You didn’t just say no; you softened the discomfort of being human until it barely felt like a feeling at all. Instead of admitting, I’m overwhelmed , or I don’t have the energy , you reach for the sterile vocabulary of a server room. You turn a feeling into a metric. A boundary into a system limitation. Apologies, my data transfer rate is capped. Please submit a ticket to my emotional help desk. It’s a clever little trick—and an un...

On The Fly

Search This Blog