Basically, in the past we were relying on the built-in DAC of our computer to convert the music to something that the stereo amp could handle, and now we have a better-quality unit dedicated to do this, running through the USB port. If your CD player has a S/PDIF output jack, your sound could also benefit from a DAC, as the built-in DAC of the player is usually a bit of an afterthought.

Something to get me out the door is the new bike frame, which ought to arrive here next week. I am having a rear wheel made to match the black generator wheel that I have been using on my carbon-framed bike. I am looking for a carbon fork to use with this, much to the barely-masked annoyance of the frame builder. I really want a model that is made by a defunct manufacturer, Alpha-Q, and these turn up new pretty regularly on Ebay, but I am consistently over-bid, alas. There is a time-trial, aero version of the same fork available for relatively cheap, but I think it might look a little strange on this frame.

Speaking of which, Brian the frame-maker at Circle A Cycles made photo gallery of my frame being made. It’s painted and ready to go and he’ll be shipping it as soon as my check arrives there. It’s filet-brazed and made of high-zoot Deda Uno tubing. My spec was to have a fixed-gear rando ride, so it’s got fender eyelets. Since I don’t use a rack, I did not bother with having mounts made for these. We never worked out a way to permanently mount a rear light– generator rear lights seem balky and not so bright to me, so why build one into the frame? Otherwise, it would have been nice to have a stud or a clip to mount a blinky, instead of clamping one to a tube as is usually done. It’s painted in pearl red with a smattering of red pearl on the black parts. It’s a bit flashy, eh?

Found, on my way to looking for examples of a effects pedal known as Gristleizer. Offered here as a public service. There are lots of examples of the circuit bending on youtube, of course.

My first experiences with cycling as an adult occurred when I moved to San Francisco in the early ’80′s.  I eventually became a bike messenger and then a dispatcher for a courier company but before that, even, I had taken to riding a bike around town for more than just transportation.  In fact, we used to walk around so much just for fun, exploring the cityscape, that riding a bike in the city became for me a sort of an extension of our regular partying noctambulations.

Typically, on a weekend night, planned or unplanned, we bohemian artistes (I was a putative guitar player, others were visual artists, we had a band at the time called The 12 Yr Olds) would set off on a walk of indeterminate direction and duration, usually our pockets were brimming with intoxicants, snacks and maybe a little spray paint that was itching to be dispersed.   Our walks invariably took us through yet-to-be-gentrified industrial zones of the east, or bay side of San Francisco to the waterfront and then to walk along the docks to the tip of the peninsula and beyond before  working our way back home on Potrero Hill by dawn.  Memorable walks of this era included a small group of us exploring our way once into a long, unlit railroad tunnel, which was suddenly entered by a loud train on the other side.  We ran back the way we came, towards a distant pinhole of light, fumbling on the ties in the dark as the train bore down on us.  Excitement!

In my first months in The City, I came to be able to borrow my co-Michigan transplant and roommate Alex’s bike for the first of many all-night solo rides.  In my memory, these have all melded pretty much into one adventure, of heading off in a direction to explore the city and then making my way back after sunrise.  What made me want to go out and to do this over and over again was the inextinguishable awe that I felt by the sheer scale of the urban/industrial environment, the poetry that I continued to see in the bizarre shapes of the buildings,  and the inspiration that I gathered from the audacity of humans to conceive of and to develop these awesome structures.  That, and the exhilarating feeling of freedom and wonder, to be as young and strong and healthy as I was, totally free to go and do whatever I wanted!  The weather was always cool and damp– foggy, but with a gentle breeze, “fresh”, as Alex described it.  One could live there year round with just a sweater and a windbreaker.

Bicycling this way was not a high-tech affair.  There were no togs to wear and in that era helmets were not even worn by professionals.  I probably wore Converse high tops and a pair jeans that were handed down from someone else when they became unwashable.  I remember once borrowing Alex’s military-issue  haz-mat jacket for a misty all-night ride out to the Golden Gate Bridge and on to Marin County.  It was so perfectly useful!   Riding then was leisurely, stopping to look at stuff, to smoke a cigarette and watch something happen, or to just close my eyes to listen to the loud, quiet hum of a city at rest.  As I approached downtown, Hunt’s 25-Hour Donuts was good for a sustaining coffee , if not rush-inducing French Old-Fashioned.

Once night I stopped to watch a flashing fire truck roll out of a wharf firehouse by the Bay Bridge.  A man then  jumped off the truck to walk back to close the firehouse doors as the truck waited.  He walked back to the truck and stopped to take final drag off of his cigarette. After he dutifully stomped it out, he stepped onto the truck, and they were off.  There was a beauty in it.

Further along the wharves is a well-known dock that is usually taken over by huge, slumbering seals.  To listen to 20-30 of the, what, 700-lb snoring beasts  is not to be missed.  Rolling past the odd, drunken couple or the buzzed and shuffling loner, as an electric bus rolls silently up from behind and then overhead lines crackling, turns up over the top of the adjacent hill.

The ride gets wilder, more natural, as the cossu, featureless Marina district is circumnavigated, punctuated by a stop at artifice that is the Palace of Fine Arts. By now, the Golden Gate Bridge becomes a sort of a beacon for the rider.  It’s further away than it appears but I always felt drawn to it, as though there was some sort of tragic inevitability of getting to the place.  Most of the time it was partially covered in fog but its lights were almost always illuminating the waters roiling below.  The orange hue gave the scene a spectral, horrific aspect that was fascinating to contemplate.  The foghorn sounding took it to another world.

Arriving at the bridge, I was always over-awed by the vastness of its landscape and by the enterprise of its building.  It’s scale was amplified by the mysteries of the night, the cliffs rising into darkess and fog, everything always glistening and at the edge of the world.  One step over that edge and you are surely, irrevocably swept out to sea.  Jump off the wind-swept bridge deck and every bone in the body would be broken simultaneously on impact.  At the edge of the continent, it’s as though only superlative absolutes may be applied to describe anything about the place.  And I lived just a few miles away!

From the bridge is a climb through the Presidio and then the rolling hills to Sea Cliff and the surrealist Palace of the Legion of Honor.  There, it was me and surprisingly, Rodin’s Thinker,  with an all-season Japanese garden all to ourselves.  I recall watching a few sunrises there, with sculpted cypresses framing a view of the ocean and the scent of eucalyptus in the air.

Turning east to return home, I could cross the awakening city without climbing any large hills.  It was just one long, gradual hump and then a long, pleasant roll to the other side of town.  My knees would be aching by now but I felt strong and refreshed from a night full of solitary riding and sight-seeing.  On a Sunday morning, there was hardly any traffic, and whoever was out there was usually calm an benevolent.  All of the sins of the night had been washed away by the morning fog.

I can barely do justice to the experiences that I had then in writing such a short post.  I lived for our all-night walks and rides, indulging in our shenanigans and sharing in our camaraderie.  To be able to recall it so easily is a lovely vacation to have in mind.

The Tone Bender above is supposed to be a Hammer Tone color, like the Fuzz Face box, but the freezing temps and my over saturating of the thing with paint makes it look like a swirling something else.  If I label this, I will probably label it something like “Pschitte Boxxe”.

What also nice about these circuits is that since the 2-3 transistors inside are mounted onto a socket instead of soldered to the circuit board, one can easily try other transistors from the period for different sounds.  I saw a well-made Fuzz Face clone with period Mullard OC81D transistors selling for more than $800 today.  Mine has something comparable and I built it for a lot less!

I’m just putting this out there. I’m just saying…

So, what have I been doing? Over the last 3 weeks I went on a music-gear aquisitive frenzy.  I have enough stuff now to record all sorts of basic tracks to give a sketch of a song, or at least I’ve now got the stuff to commit to memory a constellation of potential riffs to develop one.   I put together a few guitar stomp boxes from kits online I am having lots of fun playing around with them.  And finally, I also bought another guitar to round out what I have already– an unusual semi-hollowbody from Gretsch. 

My work hours have been stranger than usual lately, as I might work a shift one night, then have a night off, and then work another shift the next night.  It’s not like I can just get up and out there on my day/night off, riding my bike or doing whatever as though only having 4 hours of sleep is a normal thing to do!

I have not come through this season with any great over-arching goals to achieve this year.  I was kind of thinking of taking it easier than usual.  An idea has been to limit  myself to 2 1200K rides.  The first will be at the end of June, in the Seattle area, and the second… I am not yet sure of where I want to go.   I definitely want to continue the fixed-gear juggernaut but this might prove very difficult to do during the Ohio brevet series. 

Speaking of fixies and aquisition, I am having a frame made as I write this.  It will be very much like the current fram that I am riding, but it will have lighter/stiffer steel and it will be filet-brazed.  I really don’t need this, as the current fixed frame that I have is handsome and it’s up to the task.  But the new one ought to be optimal.  I’ll post a picture here as soon as I get one of it!