Devauld.ca

Hello June!

The year is nearly half over, summer is waking from its slumber, the yard looks like a jungle and I still haven't finished the trim in the basement. The problem, I have discovered, is that I am terrible at estimating how long something will take.

This is not something that is limited to basement renovations; it can also be found in my estimating the time it takes to create software, complete yard work, travel between two locations and even read a book. An example is the gate that leads to the back yard. Over the winter, one of the structural boards let go of some of the nails, and as a result the bottom board would drag across the ground every time the gate was opened or closed. The plan was to string out an extension cord and use a drill to pull out some screws and get the gate off the fence. Next take the gate into the shop, change out the semi-rotten board with a new board, screw it into place and then hang the gate back up. How long should something like that take? I initially thought it was going to be a couple of hours. It ended up taking over 10, putting my work into the fading hours of the day and resulting in nothing else getting done on my precious weekend time.

In all of my estimating, the reason behind my terrible estimates isn't in me predicting the work that needs to be done, it is in not foreseeing the problems that inevitably arrive. The problem with the gate: it wasn't actually square. When I got it under a measuring tape, I found that the top of the gate was an inch and three quarters longer than the bottom. I wasn't about to let that fly, so I set out with some power tools and more wood and squared it up. Then when I hung it back up, I discovered that whomever built the original fence made the gate to offset non-level fence. Out with the jack and chain, pull up the post.

Oh look! It's rotten!

Obtain a post, get it level and pack it in. Oh look, the pounding turned it and it isn't square! Rinse, repete. Then the gate went up, and could swing without scraping along the ground. The simple task of replacing an old rotting board, turned into a whole day adventure in home maintenance.

This is not an isolated incident. One of my first large scale projects was scheduled to take approximately one thousand man hours. By the time the project shipped, there was over ten times that amount of hours billed. Blowing the budget? Anyone who works in software knows what I'm talking about. You'll find a library function won't execute your call-back, the library you installed won't work on your 64-bit architecture, and when everything appears to be working, there is that one case discovered in quality assurance that is a security risk and results in a total rework.

I've been starting to refer to this phenomenon as the 'Time Ratchet'. Like the turns on a ratchet, each item doesn't itself appear to be a big deal. Although after enough turns or problems you end up with something much larger. Each of the turns of the ratchet work towards the same goal: a tighter nut. The same can be said for the small individual setback in your projects, each works towards a longer timeframe.

The Time Ratchet effect appears everywhere. I had to meet a client to talk about a photo shoot. I time boxed the entire thing into about 2 hours. Driving through downtown, I run into some traffic adding about five to ten minutes *chuck-chick*. Client takes a phone call that lasts about 3 minutes *chuck-chick*. I can't seem to find a gallery that contains the example I'm talking about. I stumble around the website for two or three minutes until I have it *chuck-chick*. Answering all the questions takes twice as long, due to divergent chat about travelling across the US border *chuck-chick*. Now the ratchet effect has me still in a cafe when I planned to be at home starting on something else.

The Time Ratchet is turned by whatever you are currently doing, and tightens up the time you have to do other things. When you are turning the ratchet, you are simply working the tool. It isn't until you get into the compressed time on the other end and wonder why it is so tight.

A stack of pay stubs made an excellent candidate in Photo Friday's Arranged challenge.

The new bike had its first good ride yesterday. Being the geek that I am, I was sure to bring along my heart rate monitor, as well as my GPS. The weather was really nice, and I was on a mission to take pictures of Charlie's Coin at the Boer War Memorial in Calgary. The total ride was about 30 kilometers, and for the most part was quite enjoyable exercise. At other times I thought I was going to die.

If you look at the heart rate chart, you can see I pushed myself decently throughout.  The low points around 1:15 were when I was on and off the bike taking pictures.  If you look at the Google Earth KMZ file, the spike in heart rate to 191 beats per minute coincides with the marker referred to as 'Killer Hill'.  I'm not sure if I was misusing my gears, but about 3/4 of the way up that hill, my heart was in my neck and I felt like I was about to keel over.  Nothing like a change in exercise routine to show you the poor shape of your body.  Granted, I haven't maintained 160 minutes of moderate intensity in a very long time.

I was pleased that I am able to keep up with traffic downtown.  I can pretty easily get up to 30km/h, which is par for the course in stop and go traffic.  I could keep up with the flow, and didn't have to resort to riding along the sidewalk like a inconsiderate moron.  The bike is also pretty fast, as I peddled it up to over 50km/h, on the downhill of course.

In the end I did my Geocaching, went for a nice bike ride on a beautiful day, and managed to collect data to get my geek on.

I've returned to bicycling after nearly 7 years. The last time I cycled somewhat seriously, I bombed around on a Giant XTC, until it was stollen. The loss was at the perfect point for the insurance company to basically give me the finger on rates. I could either claim, pay the deductible and have the blood suckers extract it from me over a few years with higher rates, or I could suck it up and just go buy a new bike. I didn't want to claim it, knowing that the single claimed theft would be on the records for years, and I also refused to get a new bike. Bicycling died for me at that point

I learned that MEC had designed a series of bikes, and were now selling them. MEC is a wonderful company, which is aligned with a lot of my beliefs, so I decided I would both return to cycling and support the co-operative at the same time. I was set back a little misreading the catalog, believing I needed to travel to Edmonton to buy a bike when Calgary did in fact sell them. Eventually I prevailed, settled on a bike and purchased it.

Talks of geometries, cassettes, tooth counts, cyclocross, clincher rims, fixies, lacing, grouppos and saddles had to be waded through before I could decide on a bicycle. The cycle ecosystem has specialized in several areas and with that specialization the usual slang followed. I decided on a hybrid style bicycle as most of my terrain is going to be cleared paths or the bike network around Calgary. It leans more towards the road bike, but does have a heavier frame and knobbier wheels.

Next was a vicious lesson in how far bicycling has come since I was last immersed in the culture. My new ride has a pedal system in which you clip in specialized shoes; these shoes needed to be put together. Have you ever had to read an instruction manual for a pair of shoes? It was quite a humbling experience. Technology progressed since I last tuned a bike, and I'm happy to say that most of of the changes make tuning a bicycle easier. The one exception is air pressure, as the tires on this bike have presta valves. I have never seen such an animal before, and every piece of pressurized air equipment I have is useless until I get an adapter.

Excitement rains over me, as this weekend is supposed to have good weather, and I have a new toy with which to play.

A photo from our trip to Amsterdam, now used as an entry for Photo Friday's Wheels competition. Here's a larger version for those that don't have access through flickr.