Seriously? This is November? Happy Thanksgiving to everyone. Enjoy the day, and travel safely.
1 hour ago
Less awesome: The bike I was working on. I brought in an absolute clunker of a bike – an old Motobecane that had been sitting outside under the porch in Colorado for far too long and had then made the trip to California and spent most of its time sitting in our hallway. Less than awesome. There’s progress on the beast, and it was almost (briefly) rideable. But when I brought it home and inflated the tire a little more, I realized there was a slight issue. If the tire was inflated to the recommended psi (say, about 80), it bulged out seriously on the sidewall, so much so that it wouldn’t spin through the brakes. So I deflated the tire, tried to reseat the bead in the rim, then inflated the tire again. Same problem. Repeat, except this time I removed the tire and spread a little chalk on the inside between the tube and the tire, thinking that the tube might be getting bunched up when inflated. When I inflated the tire again (again, to about 80 psi, though the tire says it takes 90 psi), it seemed fine. I was psyched. Deflate the tire, slipped it back into the bike, tightened down the wheel a little, then pumped up the tire again. Everything seemed gravy, but within about a minute, the tire/tube was bulging back over the rim. I went to deflate the tire again to look at it when the tube (predictably?) popped.Any thoughts?
“What I am describing may not, in the end, be special to Istanbul, and perhaps, with the westernization of the entire world, it is inevitable. Perhaps this is why I sometimes read Westerners’ accounts not at arm’s length, as someone else’s exotic dreams, but drawn close by, as if there were my own memories. I enjoy coming across a detail that I have noticed but never remarked upon, perhaps because no one else I know has either.”Part of Orhan Pamuk’s project in his memoir, Istanbul: Memories and the City, is the authentic representation of Istanbul as a place of vibrant experience. Yet in his representation of Istanbul, Pamuk encounters two related problems: First, almost all of the historical accounts of Istanbul during the Ottoman Empire were penned by Westerners, visitors to the city of sultans. Second, Pamuk remains self-conscious about the non-Turkish origins of his own literary craft. Is it possible, he asks, for a Turk to write a memoir (itself a mode of representation with its own specific Western geography) about Istanbul that relies on Western accounts?
- Orhan Pamuk, Istanbul: Memories and the City
I took a trip to Nepal. The centerpiece of the trip was 7 days trekking to Annapurna Base Camp (which sits a shade over 14,000 feet, but well below the summit of Annapurna itself). This photo is from our second day on the trail, a glimpse of Annapurna South before the sky filled in with clouds.
