E-type in the grass

Taking care of business, and heading home...

I awaken Monday morning to yet another Bay Area foggy morning. I have a full day planned today... client meetings and visits mostly, but also some time for stuff to just happen. I start off by checking email, and getting the car filled up with gasoline. I then wander to a Starbucks in Los Gatos to meet a colocation and hosting client, Paul Kent for a chat. We have a nice talk (I drank a hot chocolate... I don't drink coffee... weird I know, especially since I'm from Seattle!) and I fill him in about our move. After that I head over to Apple in Cupertino to meet with a person I have "known" professionally for over 10 years, but have never met. Funny how the Internet can do that. We have lunch at a great burger place. While I am at lunch I get a call from a fellow Jag enthusiast, who I promise to call back later. I then stop by to see Richard Ford since I am right there... (formerly of Apple, now at Packeteer) who I have also known for over ten years. After that I head up to Sunnyvale to introduce myself to another client, Judi at Stanford Research Systems. I have spoken with her on the phone many many times, so it is nice to put the face to the name/voice. She gives me a brief tour of their facility. After that, I am out of south bay folks to meet. I had been trying to get together with another one of our clients, Mike at Headsets.com, but we were missing each other. Mike is a busy guy with offices in both San Francisco, the East bay, and on the peninsula. We didn't manage to connect, but I could try again tomorrow. (Mike's a Brit, so I know he'd like to see the E-type!) Instead I called back the Jaguar enthusiast I talked to at lunch. Dick Vandermeyden in San Carlos is somebody I also 'know' via the E-type mailing list. I also have an FHC back hatch for him in my garage at home. He bought it on eBay from a seller in Seattle and I picked it up for him for later retrieval. He told me he wanted it specifically for a particular part, which he plans to recreate with better materials. I didn't think much of it when he told me, but now, having met him I have a much better idea! Dick is a living museum to engineering and Jaguars! I arrived at his workshop in San Carlos and found a cluttered little office, overflowing with boxes, manual and parts. Little did I know what lurked behind the walls!

After chatting for a while, Dick gave me the nickel tour....

So basically what we have here is the Jaguar equivalent of my father's friend Harvey's wine cellar that I saw last week. Instead of vast amounts of vintage wine aging in a cellar, we have vast amounts of Jaguar parts, and engines, along with tools and tooling... aging in a workshop in San Carlos. Tended by an equally knowledgeable and able keeper. I'm sure Dick has forgotten more than I'll ever know about Jaguar mechanicals and whatnot. He is also the only guy in the world who knows how to find everything in here! =)

He has numerous XK engines, in various states of assembly. A complete E-type FHC, a few XJ's and an XJS. A few Jaguar V-12 engines. Frame rails, bonnets, intake manifolds, carb sets, some amazing test and tooling equipment, some of which I forgot to photograph. He is re-creating a bunch of Jaguar parts in stainless steel, and doing the tooling work himself. Amazing. He is adapting later fuel injection systems to older engines. Countless projects. What you see here is just the tip of the iceberg.

I could have spent a few days chatting with Dick, but I had a scheduled meeting with a client (who is also a friend, who was also putting me up for the night!) that I had to get to. Dick showed me his "breakdown van" loaded up with Lucas and Jaguar spares, and reminded me to call him should I have any trouble, no matter how far away. If I broke down in Washington, he would have an excuse to come retrieve the part I have for him in my garage! Dick then gave me the directions for getting through San Francisco during rush hour, and wished me goodbye.

I drove up I-280 and through San Francisco's fog toward the Golden Gate. I realized that I only had a few bucks in my pocket and the bridge toll was probably some outrageous rate, so I pulled into a neighborhood and stopped at a grocery store to suck some cash out of an ATM, and buy something to drink. Sure enough the Golden Gate Bridge has no toll going north bound. Oh well, at least I have some cash in hand now. I pull off the road and call my friend Philip, who works in Sausalito and lives in San Rafael. He directs me to a parking lot near his apartment. I pull off the freeway and as I'm sitting at a light on 4th in downtown San Rafael, I look to my right and in a shop, up on a lift is a white E-type OTS! I look at it for a while and start digging for my camera. Unfortunately the light turns green and I have to drive away before I can shoot a picture.

I meet Philip and after seeing my car, he suggests that we trade parking spaces, as he has one in an underground secure lot. I figure that there are no hurricanes nearby, so it is probably safe from floodwaters and agree. I scrape the exhaust only once going down ramps.

Philip and I head out to dinner on foot, to a local micro brewery. I have some ribs and a nice Pilsner. After dinner we chat for a while until I am nodding off. He heads to bed and I crash on his couch. I am awakened at some ungodly hour by some Friar banging on a bell at a nearby Mission.

We get ourselves up, and I offer to drive him to work, if he can show me the "scenic route", so we head down to the garage and fire up the E-type.

Above: Philip Slater preps for the ride of his life.

We head off along some back roads, which unfortunately are loaded with commuters, so we don't really get much of a chance to flex the Jaguar's muscles, but Philip gets the idea. I pull over on a wide spot and offer him the wheel, and he refuses... admitting that he hasn't driven a stick in years. I berate him for being so lame, and continue on to his office. Philip works for Stalker Software, who makes, hands-down, the best email server software ever created. I feel sorry for the poor bastards either struggling with Open Source solutions like sendmail, qmail or postfix... or worst of all, the truly miserable downtrodden who are forced to wrestle with Microsoft Exchange (I pass an SUV every day on I-405 with a plate frame that says "Exchange, the most feared and loathed group in Microsoft!"). They have no idea how much easier their lives could be. CommunigatePro runs on almost every platform in the known IT universe, and seriously kicks ass. Philip shows me their racks full of servers, and I took some pictures, just for my overly geeky staff. Their handful of racks is a miniature of our datacenter at digital.forest, every conceivable hardware and OS imaginable running.

Above: Very geeky, very cool.

We are a CommunigatePro reseller, and have saved many a client's posterior due to a failed Exchange migration, or just vastly simplified their lives with a switch to CGP. If your email system is driving you nuts, give me a holler. mention this website and I'll get a good laugh.

I get the grand tour of Stalker Software World Headquarters, and take off to meet a few more north bay clients. I tell Philip I'll be back around noon to take him home to fetch his car. First I head down to Fort Baker to visit Lynette Jones at the Bay Area Discovery Museum. They have a very cool location, right at the north end of the Golden Gate bridge. Unfortunately Lynette was not there. I left my card and a note and went up on the bluff to enjoy the view, and make some phone calls.

I spoke with Mike at Headsets again. We decided to meet another time. I also called a couple more clients, but was unable to connect. My Dad called me. He was doing well, having made the flight, and was on his way to the east coast for a Gullwing Group meeting in Rhode Island. Their 300sl wasn't there, but Mom and Dad would be.

I just sat and enjoyed the view. The fog was thick, but there were sailing ships, and ferries out in the bay. A tanker emerged out of the fog under the Golden Gate, oddly enough appearing to have a Tugboat in tow, stern first. It was an odd sight. The fog began to lift and the bridge began to appear from the gloom.

As I'm sitting there, I realize that this is my birthday (October 5th), and I decide that it is time to head home. I hop in the car and fire up MacStumbler on my laptop, looking for an unsecured wireless connection. Sure enough, within a few hundred yards of arriving in the residential area I find a bunch of them. Pull over, park and hop on iChat/AIM to check on things at work and see if Philip is online. He is, but says he's trapped in a meeting for the next few hours. I ask him if he has an alternate way of getting home. he does, so I wish him farewell and spend some time to prep the car for long-distance travel. I hit 101 northbound and retrace the route of the Mille Autunno out of Marin, through Napa and back to that twisty highway in the hills. I stop for lunch in Napa and an In-and-Out Burger. The Jaguar attracts a few admirers and I get regaled with tales of youthful exuberance and foolishness in XKE's. I set up the Apple iSight and iMovie to capture some footage, and head off toward the hills. Here is the result.

The drive though the hills is even better this time, as there is sunshine. People pull into the turnouts when I come up behind them, which is nice. I go by Lake Berryessa, and out to I-505, but this time I take another highway back west after a few exits on 505, and back into the hills. The road, once I get past a big Casino, is empty and lots of fun to drive. I pass orchards and vineyards. Eventually making my way up a nice river canyon. I stop the car in a small state park to check the oil and change into some shorts, as it has gotten quite hot.

The route climbs out of the canyon, and I find myself in typical California dry hills, rolling down towards the Central Valley again.

The road hits the valley bottom, filled with vineyards, and looking back I see the western hills marching off to the north.

I head east until I hit I-5 again, and race the sun... me north, it west and down over the horizon. I take some shots of the sleek E-type's shadow on the dry grass as the sun hits the horizon. The results are not as good as the famous one on the corn I took while on the Cannonball Classic back in 1999, but I like them. I'll get that perfect shot someday.

I drop off the Interstate at each town, looking for a decent hotel, and never really find one. I run out of daylight in a town called Red Bluff, and just give up and grab the first reasonable looking hotel I find. I immediately call home, but they are busy in mid-evening rush, so I crash on the bed for a nap. Sue calls a little while later to wish me a happy birthday and chat for a while. Since she woke me up she keeps it brief and after we hang up I sleep some more. I wake at 9 pm, and head out in search of dinner. I really don't want fast food, but it seems the town has shut down for the night. I seem to arrive at every restaurant as they are locking up... and it isn't even 10 pm yet! Oh well, I give up and go back to bed hungry.

I was hoping to get an early start, but ended up sleeping almost until 8 am. Oh well. I hit the road shortly after 8, and the Interstate quickly climbs out of the valley and into the part of the state where the Siskyous and Cascades meet, eventually crossing over to the "dry side" north of Mt. Shasta. I grab a bite on the run and drive. Unfortunately the road is full of big trucks and lots of road construction. I don't make very good time, but at least the scenery is good. I note the Castle Crags near Shasta. I bet there is some good climbing there. I've rarely been through here in clear weather so this is the first time I can recall seeing them.

Shasta is sporting a growing cap of lenticular cloud, so I know bad weather lies ahead.

Above: The first view of Mt. Shasta from I-5

I grab a bunch of photos on this section, mostly because the scenery is nice. I also have my butt saved by my radar detector, as there is a CHP officer hiding in a very nice spot in the shadows of some trees on a downhill curve. He is almost invisible until you are very close to him. But thankfully the Valentine1 tells me about him long before I even come around the curve. It may be expensive, but that little box has paid for itself many times over. I wasn't going that fast (probably 80) but likely fast enough to get a ticket.

Above: The Castle Crags.

Above: Mt. Shasta getting closer.

Above: Cinder cone above Weed, CA.

Above: A Boy, His Cat, and His Radar Detector. Self-portrait on the day after the author's forty-first birthday.

Above: Mt Shasta, the least volcano in my worries.

Above: Over on the dry side of the Cascades, heading towards the Oregon border.


Did I mention a Volcano? Mt. St. Helens is constantly lurking in my mind. I really don't want to be anywhere near it if it starts spewing ash. That stuff is very destructive to car engines, as it is very fine, yet very hard and gritty. I've been keeping an eye on media reports, and plan to switch from iPod to radio as I get close to Portland to hear any Volcano related updates. Of course the media is hyping it, just like they hype everything else. My Dad is a news junkie, always watching CNN or whatnot. Remember that line in the (original) "Manchurian Candidate"? Something about there being two types of people in the world, those that walk into a room and turn on a TV, and those that turn TVs off. I'm the latter. I think I watch less than an hour of TV a week. However, this week every one of those minutes was checking on this slumbering Volcano. To borrow a phrase from Jimmy Buffet: "I don't know where I'm gonna go when the Volcano Blow!"

As I approach the Oregon border I pass a truck advertising one of our clients, Torani.

I cross over into Oregon, and a little ways up the road arrive in Ashland. I jump off the freeway and get some gas. The dilemma is california gasoline is expensive, and in Oregon they won't let you pump your own. What is a cheap car-guy to do! My cheapness rules, so Oregon it is. I pull into a Shell station, and I get lucky: a guy walks out with a big grin... he owned an E-type in the early 70's so he was happy to pour for me, and was very careful too. I check the oil and chat with him a bit about Jaguars. As I leave he tells me that it is raining up in Eugene, so enjoy the sunshine while it lasts. Looking to the north, sure enough the horizon showed overcast. After that I head into downtown Ashland to slurp some free Internet access. I drive around the town's myriad one-way streets and fine all sorts of unsecured wireless networks, but they have universally weak signals wherever there is room to park the car! =)

I finally park it and go sit on a curb about 100 feet away to get online. I check email, and chat with staff. I end up burning an hour doing this. But I get some important stuff done with my staff. I also take a minute to clean and RainX up the windshield of the car. I've never really spent any time in Ashland, but it seems nice. I have some professional acquaintances here but I decide to skip a visit and hit the road. There is just a slight chance I could make it home tonight. I get back on I-5 and head north. At about mile marker 100, it begins to rain.

Above: Welcome to Oregon, have some Liquid Sunshine!

I pull under a bridge overpass and raise the top, fold myself into the car, and continue. Just past Roseburg I stop to grab a bite and have to get out of the car, if only to stretch. I call home and tell Sue where I am. She says I'm too far to make it home, so she figures she won't see me until tomorrow. I climb back into the cramped cockpit and motor north. For some odd reason traffic gets lighter and I start making good time. I keep the car running between 3000 and 3500 RPM, which translates with my gear ratio between 75 and 90 MPH, depending on the angle/grade of the road. Lanes stay clear and I just cruise along. The iPod is entertaining me with good road music, and miles fly by. As I approach Salem, I consider stopping to see fellow E-type owner Davit Sweet, who back in May loaned me the Lucas alternator off his car to help me get home after being stranded in Portland for 2 days. He has never seen my car and I really wanted to show it to him. However, I am making good time now and if I maintain this pace, I can be out of Portland before "rush hour" hits. I mentally apologize to David and keep going. Just past Salem I switch to my radio (I keep a mini radio in the Jag, as it has no radio of it's own) to check on any impending major geological events in southwest Washington. Unlike the TV media, there is no hype blaring about the second eruption happening "ANY MINUTE NOW!!!"... so I just keep going.

My only real problem is a weird "leak" in the car's firewall. Even with the heat off there is a narrow stream of warm air that is hitting my right leg, right on my shin. I am wearing shorts and no socks, so I'm feeling this for the first time. It isn't too hot to handle, but it does become irritating after a while. I try a few things to alleviate it with no luck, until I jam a cap into my shoe, and sure enough... It works.

Above: Sorry for the flash reflecting off my pasty white leg, but here is a shot of the short-term solution to my heat issue.

The weather has gone from intermittent rain to high clouds. I decide to stop and get some gas south of Portland (just a few bucks to get over the Columbia river!) and I drop the top and put on my jacket. I leave the shorts on though as the engine is pumping out plenty of heat. I can handle the cool air from the waist up just fine. I motor through Portland with minimal delays. I catch a glimpse or two of Mt. St. Helens and it seems unusually quiet, especially after the TV hype and newspaper photos showing ash and steam plumes. I decide to let the Jaguar use it's cat-like stealth to prowl by silently and not tempt the rumbling mountain into action. I cross the Columbia into my home state and keep heading north. As I pass between Olympia and Tacoma the sun sets and I flick on the Jaguar's anemic headlights. Traffic moves along and I just go with the flow. A little past eight, I find myself at Exit 208 and head east up Highway 530 towards home. It never did more than sprinkle a little mist in all the distance between Salem and here, but as I get to about 2 miles from my house the sky opens up in a relative downpour. Go figure.

There is no shelter for me to take cover under, and so long as I keep moving forward, the vast majority of water is carried over the car, rather than into it. My only real issue is the occasional drop hitting my eyes, and the fact that water on the headlight covers makes the weak beam even weaker! Thankfully the rain stops within a mile or so of driving.

I pull into our driveway and back into the barn. Christopher arrives to help direct me onto the raised 4x4's I have around the lift, and also carry some of my luggage into the house (not that there is much!) I shut down the car, open the bonnet to assist in cooling the hot engine that has been running strong now for a week. I give the car a gentle pat on it's wet and dirty cowl and say "thanks".... Thanks for getting me home safe and sound, and thanks for running so well this whole week. I mop up what little water that made it into the car with the handy towels I keep just for this purpose... grab my stuff and head into the house... stopping to take a couple of photos of the car back in "its own bed."

Above: Note the misted over headlight.

I walk in and Sue is surprised to see me. It is nice to be home.