For most Americans, France is either Paris, the Loire Valley, or the Riviera.  But France is much more.  And while we haven't fully explored the entire country, we have found some hidden gems.

Sometime back I did a post entitled Dare Brittany! Finistere, Morlaix, Perros Guirec.  In it, I described the relatively short visit we did to Brittany as part of our drive up the west coast of France.  I said we'd be back, and two weeks ago, we decided to visit Brittany again with the goal of hiking more of the GR 34 - the 1200-mile Grande Randonnée (Great Hike) that runs along the coast of Brittany.  We had heard that our previous hikes along the Sentier des Douaniers (Customs Agents Trail), part of the GR with its immense pink granite formations and hidden granite structures which allowed the customs agents to surreptitiously watch for smugglers, would pale in comparison to parts of the trail to the east.  We were a bit skeptical, but excited to see this more remote coastline.  

To break up the 7-hour drive from our place in the Pays Basque to the north coast of Brittany, we stopped in southern Brittany along the Gulf of Morbihan where we visited Vannes and the Ile aux Moines - one of several hundred islands in the picturesque gulf.  More on that in an upcoming post.    

The next day we headed to  Le Manoir de Kergrec'h, a restored 15th century manor house on a huge, park-like estate that borders the GR-34 in the area of Plougrescant in northern Brittany. This part of Brittany is called the Cote d'Armor.  On our way to the manor, we had to pass through the town of Treguier.  And while it was only 15 minutes to our destination, the impressive cathedral merited a stop.  

Parts of the Cathedral were built in 970 AD, but most of what you see today was built beginning in 1339.  In addition to striking stained glass, and gravity defying architecture, the cathedral is home to the remains of Saint Yves - the patron saint of lawyers.  Every year on May 19th, lawyers from around the world come to Treguier to pay hommage to St. Yves and to carry his skull from the cathedral to nearby Minihy, where St. Ives had built an asylum.  ​We left Treguier with the plan of returning on foot from the manor the next day.
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Arriving at the manor, we were struck by the beauty of the spot.  We checked in, settled into our well-appointed room that was almost as large as our apartment, and decided to do a quick hike along the GR from the manor to the north then back through the village of Plougrescant. The mostly single-track trail ran along the banks of the Baie d'Enfer (the Bay of Hell), so named because of the strong currents leading from the estuary to the south into the English Channel to the north.  In spite of the drizzly day, the scenery did not disappoint. 
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Since we indicated we wanted a light meal, Pierre, the owner of the manor,  suggested a couple of local restaurants.  We walked back into the village where we had a surprisingly good dinner in a small, unassuming restaurant called La Maison Bleue.  It has a small menu, but most everything is organic and the preparation and presentation were worthy of a high-end restaurant.

The next morning we started our hike into Treguier, intent on having lunch there and returning by late afternoon.  The weather was spectacular: sunny, low 70s, and a light breeze.  

The GR south from the manor continues as mostly single track along the water for a couple of miles.  Then, as you reach the village called La Roche Jaune, it moves onto streets.  A kilometer or so later, the GR offers a choice - turn down towards the estuary, or take the high tide route. Since the tide was low, we decided on the estuary.  This adds a few kilometers to the hike, and it's a much more challenging trail, but we thought the scenery would be better than on the roads into Treguier.  Unfortunately, we were just wearing running shoes, so we weren't prepared for the mud.  The views were mostly worth it, though often, the going was very slow as we tried to rock-hop our way.  Our guess is that the path that was supposed to be about 15 minutes longer added well over an hour to our hike.  

Exiting the estuary, which is formed by the merging of three rivers - Le Jaudy, Le Dossen, and Le Guindy, you're back on country roads which run through artichoke fields dotted with wild red poppies.  Although we were on roads, it was a pleasant hike through the countryside and we made it to Treguier before the restaurants closed for lunch.  

After lunch we took the easy way back, avoiding the estuary, which was quickly becoming submerged with the rising tide.
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One of the fascinating things about Brittany is its wealth of prehistoric cromlechs (circles of stone like Stonehenge), menhirs (large standing stones), dolmens (ancient burial chambers), and cairns.  One of the most famous of the latter is the Cairn de Barnenez.  Dating from over 6500 years ago, long before the pyramids, it is also one of the largest prehistoric structures ever found.  It's located just north of Morlaix in the Finistere (end of the world) part of Brittany, about an hour away from the manor.  

After a leisurely morning, we made our way to the Cafe du Port in Plouzouc'h, just north of Morlaix near the mouth of the estuary there.  There is a part of the GR 34 that leads to the Cairn of Barnenez from the port - a distance of just under 4 miles each way.  We had a superb lunch which included fresh mussels that had just come into season and then started out on the trail which again, is mostly single-track.  It is somewhat overgrown in places, but offers spectacular views of the estuary and the islands just beyond as it climbs the cliffs bordering the estuary.  

The Cairn was worth the visit and the small museum was informative, describing the construction of the Cairn, the peoples of the time, and their lifestyles.  

We stopped at the Cafe du Port and watched the tide come in as we re-hydrated.  Karen sipped a local dark buckwheat-based beer while I downed a huge bottle of sparkling water.

On the way back to the manor, we stopped for bread, cheese and wine, and enjoyed a light dinner and Scrabble on the manor's patio.  
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​​We lunched at Chez Constance, an eclectic restaurant/bookstore/live music venue on the edge of the village of Plougrescant where we sampled gallettes - giant savory crepes made of gluten-free buckwheat.  They were excellent.  All the food at Chez Constance is local and organic.  It's definitely worth a stop if you're in the area.

​We reluctantly prepared to leave the manor and Plougrescant the next morning to spend a couple of days in Amboise in the Loire Valley.  We mentioned to Pierre that we would be stopping near Le Mans to play disc golf, and then had to explain what disc golf was.  He and Sabrina threw a few discs on the spacious grounds of the manor and were completely intrigued.  It turns out that Pierre has been looking for some activity to add to the manor property.  Several friends had suggested a golf course, but Pierre felt the upkeep and environmental impact was too great.  It looks like he may be installing a disc golf course instead.

In parting, he suggested we pass through Paimpol, a town to the east, and take a quick look at the port that leads to the Ile de Brehat where he'd owned his previous hotel.  And one more time before leaving, we were blown away by the beauty of this stretch of coastline.  

​One last note:  we were in northern Brittany during and after the first part of the legislative elections in France. The France Insoumise party was campaigning everywhere.  As we learned, the people of Brittany are very environmentally-oriented.  Hence, Brittany serves as home to this eco-socialist party.  They have limited industrial development and have have preserved what may be the most beautiful areas in France.

A good friend recently called us to ask if she should buy a Chevy Bolt. Of course our initial response was 'ABSOLUTELY!'  We talked about the amazing handling, 100% torque at all times, and its remarkable high-tech features. But as we got into details about charging and range, I realized that there's a lot people don't know about owning an electric vehicle (EV) and that the idea of owning an EV as your primary vehicle is a radical one.  Even (or perhaps it's mostly) non-EV owners have range anxiety.  

If you've read my other posts about EVs, you have a good idea of some of the limitations and concerns we've seen over the years with EVs.  Most of these have been answered by the Bolt, but ultimately, with today's technologies, it turns out that the practical limitations for an EV are less about the car itself and its range, and more about charging. That said, I thought I'd dedicate this post to EV charging and whether today's infrastructure is sufficient to own an EV  - in particular the Bolt - as your sole (or primary) vehicle.   
First, a few facts about the Bolt:  

The Bolt has an official range of 238 miles and an official MPGe (miles per gallon equivalent) of 130 miles per gallon.   In terms of actual tested range over the nearly 4 months we've been driving the Bolt, it gets over 300 miles around town, around 210 miles at 70-75 mph, and we average around 260 miles in mixed highway and city driving.  

So what about charging?

The Bolt's battery capacity is 60 kWh: sixty kilowatt hours.  When you start driving an EV, you think in terms of kWH and kW (kilowatts) instead of gas tank volume and gallons of gas needed to fill it.  Still, the idea is the same.  EVs get a certain number of miles per kWh just like a gasoline-powered car gets a number of miles per gallon of gas.  The battery capacity is like the gas tank.

Obviously, just as you get lower gas mileage going uphill in a conventional car, you get fewer miles per kWh going uphill in an EV.  But in an EV, when you go downhill, you recharge the battery.  That's like filling your tank as you drive.  Also, EVs get better range around town than on the highway.  For the ranges I mentioned above, we get over 5 miles/kWh around town, about 3.5 miles/kWh at faster highway speeds, and about 4.25 miles/kWh in mixed highway and city driving.  

The Bolt accepts two types of charging interfaces: the J1772 plug, and the CCS Fast Charging plug.  At 240 volts, the J1772 adapter will charge the Bolt at up to 7.8 kW (kilowatts) and a fully discharged battery will recharge in about 9 hours.  The CCS Fast Charging interface accepts up to 80 kW, which theoretically means that you could fully charge an empty battery in about 45 minutes (60kWh/80kW = .75 hours). Unfortunately the reality here is a bit different.  The battery's charging is not linear.  It charges fastest when empty and slows as it nears full capacity.  Also, as of today, there are no 80+ kW charging stations available for any cars other than Teslas.  The best EV charging stations we've found are 50 kW and it takes about 80 minutes to charge the Bolt from 20% to 100%.  

So what does this mean from a practical point of view?

We have no concerns on trips of 200 miles or so.  We drive to our destination, and if it's on the high end of the range, we recharge partially or fully and drive back.  We do regular trips of 175 miles each way.  During our brief stays at our destinations (usually meetings, sometimes a nice meal), we leave the Bolt at a Fast Charging Station to charge for about 80 minutes, bringing it up to near 100%.  When done with our meetings, we make our return trip,  and end with more than 20% of the battery capacity remaining when we get home.  In all, our 350-mile round trips take about 6 hours including charging time - not much different than in a gas-powered car - a gas car would have sat idle during our meetings anyway.  

The reality is that most of our drives are much shorter - 100 miles each way or less.  For these trips we don't even think about charging the car unless there happens to be an available charging station near our destination.  And although we have a 240 volt charging station at home, we rarely use it.  We get free charging at many places in Santa Cruz and have found that most cities offer free charging in their city parking lots.  If we're near a free charging station and it's available, we plug in while shopping, dining, or seeing a movie.

Not counting the free charging, the cost of charging, using either our home charging station or paying for EVgo Fast Charging, is about 10 cents per kWh.  At 4.25 miles per kWh, it costs us about $2.35 to drive 100 miles.  Since the Bolt is essentially maintenance free (other than tires and washer fluid), it's much less expensive to operate that our Audi.  With free charging factored in, the Bolt is incredibly cheap to drive. 

But what about a really long trip?

Well, that's a bit more difficult.  To be frank, Tesla has real advantages over the Bolt.  But it's not the car.  Sure, the Model S and Model X are nice luxury cars, but they don't meet my practical needs for carrying surfboards and sporting equipment and for parking in areas where a $100,000 car wouldn't last long.  No, it's not about the car.  It's about the charging network.

Tesla has built an extensive network of fast charging stations.  Most of these charge at a whopping 120 kW.  So, for a Telsa, after 3 or 4 hours on the road, you need to recharge for 30-45 minutes before continuing another 3 to 4 hours or so.  Long distances in a Tesla are practical and a Tesla could easily be not only your primary vehicle, but your only car.

For non-Telsa vehicles, there are several private pay-to-charge networks, but none has the capacity of the Tesla network.  Chargepoint has built a network that extends from the Mexican border to Canada with Fast Charging Stations every 50 miles or so.  Unfortunately, almost all of these operate at only 25 kW, so running up Highway 5 at 70-75 mph, getting 3.5 miles per kWh, an hour of charging would get you at most 85 miles.  It's not terribly practical to charge for an hour to drive a bit over an hour.  Of course if you want to make overnight stops, or if you have places you want to visit along the way, you could make this work for medium+ distance trips.

The other network we use is EVgo.  EVgo is expanding their network of 50 kW charging stations but they don't have many on Highway 5.   There are quite a few along Highway 80 and along Highway 101.  Longer trips along these corridors are somewhat more practical, but still not what you're used to in a gas-powered car.  You'd be charging an hour to get 170 miles.   We've planned a trip to Oregon in the Bolt this summer and it looks like, using the 25 kW Chargepoint stations, it will take us about three hours longer than in our Audi.  

So, for now, unless you have a Tesla, a 1000-mile or longer trip in an EV would mean a lot more stops.   

The good news is that charging infrastructure is changing fast.  As part of its settlement for the 'dieselgate scandal', VW is building an extensive network of very fast charging EV stations.   They, along with other auto manufacturers, have already begun rolling out 350 kW stations in Europe.  In the States, they've committed to doing the same beginning this year.  

Locally, EVgo has just installed a 150 kW experimental station in Fremont.  It theoretically has the capacity to go up to 350 kW.  

​So, it looks like over the coming years, the charging infrastructure will improve to the point where you can have a non-Tesla as your only vehicle - 150 kW charging will let you charge your car almost as fast as you could fill up at a gas pump.  350 kW will be just as fast if not faster, once cars have the capacity to accept that rate of charging.

For us, with its great range, Fast Charging, and fun to drive features, the Bolt has become our Primary Vehicle, covering a good 98% of our trips.  But because we periodically do very long trips (over 600 miles), until the charging infrastructure improves, the Bolt won't be our only vehicle.  

  It's finally over.  Or is it really?

When I received my jury notice, I  figured that this time would be like the dozens of others - I call in each day and am told to call the next.  At the end of the week, the recording thanks me for my service and says that I have fulfilled my jury duty obligation and would not be called for the next two years.  

But this time was different.  It started out the same; I called in to see if I had to report the first day and as had happened literally dozens of time before, I was told to call back the next day.  Same thing the following day.  I was sure that this was going to be a repeat.  What was the likelihood that I'd be called in the middle of the week for a DUI trial?  Almost everyone I knew who was actually called to appear was impaneled on a 3-day DUI trial.  Only a couple of people had to serve longer - a week or so on civil suits.  

On my next call, I was told to appear on Thursday.   The fact that I was supposed to show up at 2 pm near the end of the week should have been my first clue that more was going on here.

After driving around the courthouse for 30 minutes in search of parking, I finally found a spot on Water Street.  I walked into the Jury Assembly Room, dripping wet because of the raging storm, with barely 10 minutes to spare.  I filled out the basic questionnaire and took a seat among over 100 people.  A few minutes later, a friendly Sheriff's Deputy led us through security and into the courtroom where we struggled to find seats.  Judge Timothy Volkmann greeted us warmly and encouraged the stragglers (me among them) to sit in the jury box.  He jokingly assured us that sitting in the jury box at this point was nothing to be worried about.  We looked nervously at each other.

Over the course of the next twenty to thirty minutes, Judge Volkmann explained our responsibilities as jurors and how the process worked.   He also made it very clear that no one was getting out of jury duty without a very good reason.   Then he dropped the bombshell.  This was a five week trial and the defendant was charged with raping his 7 year-old daughter.  There were countless audible gasps in the courtroom.  

I'm sure this is disappointing, but I'm not going to go into the details of the case in this blog.   Instead, I want to describe some surprises in the process and how this trial impacted me and the other jurors.  First the surprises:

1) We were given a very long questionnaire to be completed outside the courtroom and returned to the bailiff before leaving the courthouse.  There were a few yes/no questions, but the majority were questions that really got into who you were and what you thought about the justice system, the police, and the idea of innocence until proven guilty.  There were lots of case-specific questions about sexual abuse, your ability to separate lies from truth, and questions about children testifying, children lying - it was all surprising.  It took me nearly two hours to complete the questionnaire.  Court and jury selection would reconvene first thing Monday morning.  

2) On Monday morning, the court requested private interviews with seven of us, me included. Based on my questionnaire responses, both the prosecutor and defense attorneys asked me numerous questions about my previous experience with people who had been sexually abused and about my ability to render a fair decision in spite of this experience.  While they seemed to find my answers satisfactory, I noticed that 3 of the seven were excused. Not long after entering the court as a group, a few dozen potential jurors were excused, some for hardship (a separate form they'd filled out).  

3) Jury selection progressed as you might expect.  They put 12 people in the jury box. The judge asked several questions, then the defense and prosecuting attorneys asked questions. Surprisingly, it wasn't adversarial at this point.  Both attorneys seemed to be looking for impartial jurors, not jurors who would favor their side.  Countless jurors were excused.  At one point, it appeared there were 11 jurors who seemed acceptable to both sides.  They needed one more juror and 4 alternates. They brought me up.  I was selected as the third of the 4 alternates - juror number 15.  Everyone else was excused and thanked for their service.

4) During the course of the trial, winter storms closed roads and caused power outages.  At times jurors couldn't get to court on time.  The judge would either excuse us for the day or delay the start until the jurors could get there.  

5) During the trial, the prosecutor and the defense attorney worked closely together.  Certainly, they had disagreements which were settled in sidebars or through objections, but overall, they spent a lot of time conferring on how to best present evidence.

6) We've all seen the movies where there is direct examination of a witness followed by cross-examination, followed by a possible redirect.  What I didn't know is that the redirect and recross become a re-redirect and re-recross and that there's no limit to the back and forth.  And the biggest surprise: JURORS GET TO ASK QUESTIONS.  

According to Judge Volkmann, in California and many other states, judges have the option to give an instruction permitting jurors to ask questions.  A juror notes the question on a piece of paper, the bailiff delivers it to the clerk who enters it into the record and hands it to the judge.  If he thinks it might have merit, he gives it to the attorneys.  They determine if it has merit and if so, decide who will ask it, sometimes getting clarification from the judge on evidence and legality before posing the question to the witness.  We had over 80 juror questions during this trial.  

7) The police, forensic examiners, and expert witnesses were excellent.  It was clear that these people knew what they were doing and had expertise that you wouldn't think possible, even after watching countless courtroom dramas.  Personally, I couldn't imagine doing their jobs.

So here I was.  After decades of receiving jury duty notices, and only having to show up once, this time I was selected for a criminal trial forecast to last 5 weeks, but which actually took almost 8 weeks.   Since I'm now retired, I thought the timing was perfect.  For years, I had managed to escape jury duty's  impact on my startups so now it was time to pay up.  For the first time in my life, I had the time and flexibility to try to contribute to this most fundamental of our democratic processes.

But, I had no idea how much it would impact my life.  

It was a complicated trial.  Witnesses lied. And they lied about things that didn't seem to matter to the case.  They contradicted each other.  They changed their stories. They recanted previous testimonies with investigators and at the preliminary hearing.  The process was long.  The crime was described in excruciating detail complete with forensic evidence, photographs, and hours and hours of victim and family interviews. The defendant interrogation was grueling.  Most of us were overwhelmed seeing a real life interrogation that went on for 10 hours or more.    And as the trial progressed, it was clear that innocence, guilty, or not guilty (can't be proven beyond a reasonable doubt) was not clear.  There would be no easy decision here.  

But the worst was that none of us could talk about all we were seeing, hearing, and feeling.  As we exited the courtroom for breaks, it was clear that most everyone was deeply shaken by what we had seen and heard.  We couldn't talk to family, friends, counselors - as you might expect - but we couldn't talk to each other either.  It would have been helpful to be able to discuss the contradictions that seem to arise throughout the trial as well as the truly disturbing claims.  

I had nightmares.  I got depressed and angry - short tempered - not like me at all.  I couldn't stop thinking about the trial - about the process, the victim, the defendant, the attorneys, the conflicting evidence.  Unanswered questions haunted me and there was no one I could talk to about them.  During evenings and weekends when we had time for social events, my mind was on the case.  I couldn't stop thinking about it.

Now, after the end of the trial, other jurors tell me they experienced the same or worse.  Like mine, their spouses tried to be patient and understanding, but when you're in a relationship where you share your lives, and talk about what you do each day, going 8 weeks without being able to discuss what occupies your every waking hour and disrupts even your sleeping hours is a strain on any relationship.  

Worse, for me as an alternate juror, while I got to ask questions and participate in the whole trial just like any other juror, I was excluded from deliberations unless someone dropped out.  We did lose one juror during the trial, but the likelihood of losing another during deliberations was virtually non-existent. All the analysis, all the questions - I wouldn't be able to ask them.  I wouldn't be able to give my input in the deliberations.  And now that I know how it turned out.  I get to feel some additional guilt and lose more sleep over the fact that I think I might have helped bring about a different outcome: on the major counts, the jury was hung, 11 to 1.  

Eleven jurors thought the defendant was not guilty.  If you think about it, that's a long way to come from the initial gasps, especially after 6 weeks of intense prosecution evidence including those police reports and interviews, forensic interviews, and testimony by  police and experts.

I admit that I wasn't sure about my conclusions until I finally laid out the entire thing for Karen after the decision came in and I was released from the confidentiality instruction.  But over those hours of explaining every detail to her - my first chance to talk about all the evidence and associated contradictions - it was clear to me that there were just too many holes in the prosecution's case.  Not only was there reasonable doubt, I was convinced that the defendant was innocent - falsely accused of one of the most horrendous crimes.  

And what about that one hold-out juror?  According to the others, that juror admitted there was reasonable doubt (the requirement for a not-guilty verdict as dictated by the judge), but just wouldn't allow a not-guilty verdict.  It must be nice to not have any doubt.

What happens now?  There will likely be another trial.  The defendant, who has spent over 3 years in jail and who has had his life ruined, will likely face the whole process again.  There's a major concern about the charges on which he was found not guilty.  These provided much doubt about the main charges.  They likely won't be admissible in a future trial.  

But I'm glad it's over.  The other jurors are glad it's over.  None are happy.  All have been disturbed by this particular trial.  We all hope to find some way to move on.  

For me, I'm still not sleeping well.  I hope to be meeting with both attorneys shortly to talk about the trial.  I will be spending time with other jurors, trying to make sense of the whole thing and trying to get our lives back on track. Then maybe I'll give you the details and the countless questions.  In the meantime, I'll be working on a novel about the case, hoping the writing will release me from the mental squirrel-caging I can't seem to control.

Update:  It took quite a while, but I finally finished that novel.  I called it The 15th Juror.    You can find it on Amazon in paperback and ebook formats.  Let me know what you think.  And, If you get a chance, , please check out my other novels.
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Yesterday, we took our #BoltEV on a 350 mile trip.  Our goal: drive from Santa Cruz to San Luis Obispo in the morning and return by early evening.  We do this trip once a month and thus far have always taken our Audi Allroad.    It's about 170 miles each way.  

With the Bolt's rated range of 238 miles, we should be able to make it to San Luis Obispo, charge during Karen's meeting, then make it back, right?

Having lived with a Ford Focus EV for the past three years, we were more than a bit nervous about driving any electric car beyond its rated range, but particularly when much of the trip would be out in the middle of nowhere - no towns, no charging stations.  Plus, we knew that you don't get anywhere near the rated range at highway speeds, if you have strong headwinds, if you use the climate control, or if you have to climb hills.  Part of the trip to San Luis Obispo involved climbing the 1533' Cuesta Grade, just 8 miles before our destination.  

​We did a bit of planning and discovered that there were Chargepoint 24 DC kw fast charging stations in King City (about 85 miles from Santa Cruz) and in Paso Robles (just 30 miles from our destination).  There were two evGO 50 kw DC fast chargers in San Luis Obispo in the Marigold Center.  We'd found those on a previous trip.  

We went to bed the night before with the biggest storm of the season raging outside.  Heavy rain and winds shook the house.  I don't think it was the weather that caused our somewhat sleepless night, it was the omnipresent range anxiety familiar to most EV owners.

The forecast for the next day was periodic heavy showers.  If the weather looked really bad, we'd fall back on the Audi and would save the Bolt for a future trip.  

But, as fortune would have it, we woke up to a morning of light showers and a few rays of sunshine here and there.  We hopped in the Bolt and headed south.  Traffic was light and we saw that at 70 mph, our consumption was averaging over 3.5 miles per kwH.  With a battery capacity of 60 kwH, that should give us 210 miles.  We felt a bit better.  

Of course, there was a traffic jam on one of our shortcuts requiring a 7 mile detour; it was chilly and the windows fogged up with the rain; and when we caught the storm to the south, we faced pretty strong headwinds.   But the Bolt was a pleasure to drive.  The ride was surprisingly smooth on the concrete highway surface of Highway 101 and with the low center of gravity, it handled well even in gusty winds.  

As we neared Paso Robles, our expected remaining range was under 50 miles and we had a bit over 30 miles to go.  Of course our elevation was about 700 feet and we still had to climb up to 1533 feet.  We decided to play it safe and do a quick charge in Paso Robles at Cool Hand Luke's. The restaurant itself was closed but the charging station was available.  We plugged in, tapped our Chargepoint card, and nothing happened.  The card reader wasn't working.  

​I waited on hold for nearly 15 minutes with Chargepoint.  They activated the station and Karen and I walked the two blocks to grab an early light lunch at the highly recommended Red Scooter Cafe, one of many restaurants surrounding a gorgeous park in the center of the town.  

Returning to the Bolt, we saw that we'd added a bit over 50 miles to the expected range and we made our way to San Luis Obispo.  As we reached the top of the Grade, we saw that we had used about 30 of the expected miles.  We could have made it without stopping at Paso Robles.

​We still had 45 minutes before Karen's meeting, so we plugged in at the evGO station and toured Marigold center looking for possible future lunch spots - there are several.  Normally though,  we have lunch at Novo downtown - great food and atmosphere on the deck above the creek on days with nicer weather.  

The DC Fast Charging Surprise

I dropped Karen at her appointment and made my way back to the evGo station to fully charge the Bolt.  15 minutes later, the Bolt was charged to 80%.  I had read that after 80% EV batteries charged slower, but I didn't realize how much slower.   You do the straight line math, and with a 50 kw charger, you'd think you could fully charge the 60 kwH battery in an hour and 12 minutes, right?  Not a chance.  After 80%, the charge rate dropped to 17 kw, then at 90% capacity, it dropped to 10 kw, and at 98% to 6 kw.  It took an over hour to get the Bolt charged from 80% to 100%.

The Return

I picked Karen up and we started home.  Eight miles later at the top of Cuesta Grade, we'd used 8% of the battery.  It was time for a bit of range anxiety again.  But there was always King City if we needed it.  As it turned out, in spite of some strong winds on the return, we didn't need to stop. It wasn't even close.  We got back to Santa Cruz, 170 miles from our start, with 25% of the battery and an estimated 50+ miles remaining.  ​

Conclusions and a few Notes

We love this car (see We Love our New #ChevyBolt).  The more we drive it, the more we find to like.  I'm sure Chevrolet wouldn't want to hear this, but we can't believe it's a Chevy!  It handles like a European car - it's tight.  

It is unlikely that we will experience range anxiety again.  We understand the car and now we know about Fast Charging.  80% is a magic number.  Our longer trips will need a bit more planning.  

Last and not least, I note that we drove in LOW mode for the entire trip.  I've become addicted to single pedal driving.  Still, I'm not sure that I'm getting the max Regen when going downhill in LOW since I have to keep my foot on the accelerator pedal.  Next month when we make our trip to San Luis, we'll give DRIVE mode a shot to see if it makes any difference on the downhills. Between now and then, we'll be doing 200 mile trips with no worries about range.  

Bottom line, if you have any doubts about the Bolt, forget them.  It's an amazing car.  Buy one if you can!

Update 3/9/2017

We've now done several trips to San Luis Obispo and back.  We leave Santa Cruz fully charged, drive 70 -75 mph most of the way (except in King City), charge once in San Luis at the 50kw EVgo station, and drive home, arriving with 25% of the battery left (~50 miles).  We've had the car two and a half months and drive all over the Bay Area without even thinking about charging stations. We've verified that LOW mode is the most efficient and now we only drive in LOW mode.  I don't see any disadvantages in performance.  And, I can still say that the more we drive it, the more we love this car!  My next blog post on the Bolt will likely be this summer after we do a trip to Oregon and back.

Actually, I did another post on the Bolt and Charging stations:

Can a #BoltEV be your Primary Vehicle?​

Although I had worked as a programmer for years before leaving the University, I don't think my career really started until I joined IBM.  I learned a lot at IBM. Apart from the technical engineering side, I learned a lot about people  and what it took to motivate them and build loyalty.  

At the time, IBM believed that if you hired talented people, you should keep them for life.  Even wiser was the belief that all IBM employees were valuable enough to be given free education and training if they wanted to do a career change within the company. During the course of my time there, I saw secretaries become managers and executives, salespeople become engineers, engineers become sales or support people, writers move into QA, and countless other moves.  The possibilities were endless.  

As an employee, the fact that I could change the direction of my career and that it would be fully supported made me a very loyal, motivated employee. Carrying this philosophy into other companies I worked for and into my own startups, I was rewarded with decades-long loyalty from some incredibly talented people.   I tried to offer a sense of security and value, allowing them to change projects or jobs within the company, and to receive company-funded education.  

And in spite of the rigors of multiple startups, I believe my team was truly happy.

Plus, as research has shown, this ability to learn and do new things not only makes us happier, it's critical to our longevity.  It staves off dementia and helps keep us physically and mentally healthy.  Without it, we stagnate. Our life becomes mundane. We become depressed and often spiral downhill, becoming resentful of those who are better off.

I'm going to make a leap here from this somewhat microscopic point of view to a much larger one.  As many of you know, my wife Karen and I spend quite a bit of time in Europe, particularly France.  

With changes in technology, lifestyle, and social interaction, many jobs have disappeared in Europe just as they have here in the States. Contrary to the opinions of the right-wing parties, these jobs are lost to the evolution of the economy, not to immigrants.  Like everything else, economies must adapt and grow to survive.   

But what about people who have lost their jobs?  Shouldn't we try to save them?  According to our President-Elect, we can do that.  We can turn back the clock.  The fact that we now drive automobiles shouldn't stop us from maintaining manufacturing of horse and buggy transportation.  Right?  And what about jobs going overseas?  Shouldn't we stop the bleeding and protect our jobs here?

Although it's become a dirty word, globalization is a reality.  Most modern economies need to trade internationally.  Initially, this lowers costs for us, while simultaneously improving the economies and standards of living in the poorer countries. Ultimately though, those countries do better and eventually end up on equal footing.  For me, this became evident in the tech industry with India.  Years ago, many Silicon Valley companies moved much of their engineering to India to save costs.  Today, the costs in India are often equal or higher than they are here. As standards and costs of living equalize globally, we'll see much less 'offshoring'.  

In the meantime, though, people here are losing jobs.  As the recent election has shown us, many of these were in manufacturing, mining, and some now 'obsolete' industries.  What wasn't well-known is that US manufacturing output is at its highest level in years - we're manufacturing more with fewer people.  Automation is making manufacturing processes more efficient.  We don't need people to do the manual tasks anymore.  

I'd like to think we'll continue moving forward to sustainable clean energy.  Unfortunately, this means that industries like coal mining will suffer.  What about the people who worked there?

The fact is, many parts of our economy are growing and have a shortage of people.  We do need people who are trained and educated to program and operate the new automation equipment. We do need people who can work in the renewable energy field.  If the manufacturing and energy companies were like IBM back in the seventies and eighties, they would retrain their people rather than laying them off. Unfortunately, companies have been pushed to increase profits and reduce costs at the expense of their loyal employees and of longer term company success.  

So, what should we do?  Is the President Elect correct?  Can we turn back the clock and reinstate jobs that we don't need anymore?  I don't think so.  

Instead, we should follow the lead of the 'socialist' countries in Europe.  

By many US definitions, France and of its sister EU nations are pretty socialistic. Taxes are high, but you're guaranteed retirement and healthcare.  And, if you lose your job, not only does the government provide a basic income, they pay for education and training for your next job.  True, there are people who abuse the system (like most systems), but those people are the exceptions.  The vast majority learn new skills and live increasingly productive lives.

Education is an investment.  I'm probably dating myself when I bring up the space race.  In the 60s, President Kennedy had the vision to fund education programs emphasizing math and science. The results are the advanced technologies we now use every day.  

Yes, this costs money.  But it is an investment in the future.  It's an investment in our most valuable resources - our people.  It will more than pay for itself in future productivity and will reduce burden on the social support systems of the country.  It will build people's confidence in themselves, and in our country.  We just need the vision to look a bit beyond the immediate, knowing we must spend now to see a greater return in the future.  

Thursday morning, December 29th, 2016 my phone rang.  It was Kevin Rodriguez of Capitol Chevrolet calling to let me know that our new Chevy Bolt EV was in.  They needed a couple of hours to finalize the prep, but we could pick it up that afternoon.  However, with only 50 miles of charge, Kevin suggested that we might consider letting them charge it overnight so we wouldn't start our Bolt experience with range anxiety as we drove back to Santa Cruz over Highway 17.  

Friday morning after avoiding the commute traffic, we arrived at the dealership for our 10 am appointment and found our fully loaded (DC Fast Charging, Infotainment, Driver Confidence II packages) Premier Bolt parked in front of the dealership, ready to go.  

Kevin, and Phil Benavidez, the finance manager, made the paper(less) work for our lease easy, and after a thorough training session which included pairing of our phones, Karen took the wheel.  We noted that the average range estimate showed 239 miles.  As she took off in the Bolt, I followed behind in our Audi Allroad.  Twelve miles later at the summit of Highway 17, some 1800 vertical feet higher, we switched cars.  The average range estimate showed 196 miles.  I put the Bolt in Drive mode and headed down the hill.  Once in the city, I switched to Low mode and tried the single pedal driving.  It only took a few stoplights to get used to it once I realized that the car continued to regen even with my foot lightly on the accelerator.

We arrived in downtown Santa Cruz after a trip distance of 23 miles and the range estimate showed 216 miles - exactly 23 miles less than when we'd started!

That afternoon, my son-in-law and I made the trip into Felton to play a round at Black Mouse Disc Golf course and we travelled the windy Highway 9 to get a sense of the Bolt's handling. Yesterday morning, I made my first Bolt surf trip up the coast, and later we did a few errands around town.   Upon returning, I spent some time going through every feature of the Bolt.  We're planning a trip to San Luis Obispo (170 miles each way) next week and I'll do another post on our experiences with the Bolt on a longer range trip, but here's what we've learned so far:

Driving and Handling

​Whether it's the smooth curves of Highway 17, the tight winding Highway 9, or the open road of Highway 1, the Bolt is a pleasure to drive.  The steering is tight and reminds me of our Audi.  The low center of gravity gives the car a solid road-holding feel and when you step on the accelerator in a tight curve, the Bolt sits down and grips the road.  

There's no slipping on starting up (as there was with our Ford Focus EV), and the acceleration is again, comparable to our Audi - very impressive!  As with other EVs, the instant 100% torque availability makes passing a breeze.  The turning radius is excellent - much better than the Focus EV where we often were forced into 3-point turns.  

What we perceived as excessive road noise when we test drove a Bolt a few weeks ago isn't there in our production model.  The car is quiet and the ride is smooth.  Visibility is great with large windows and clever fold-down headrests.

I also now love the single pedal driving.  I haven't used the brakes in quite a while and will likely only use them in critical situations.  I don't see any reason  to drive in anything but Low mode.  

​Not as Cool as I Hoped

Rear View Mirror Camera - the rear view mirror operates in two modes - a standard mirror with auto dimming, and a camera.  I was really looking forward (or backwards) to this.  I'd seen them in car rental shuttles where the back was blocked and thought it would be very useful.  However, on the Bolt, it has a couple of problems.  1) The image is smaller than reality so you can't judge distances very well - cars are MUCH closer than they appear.  2) It's a video.  Surprisingly, looking at your side view mirror, then up to the rear view plays tricks on your eyes.  The reflections are not created equal.   However it will be useful when the back is fully loaded and the rear view mirror is blocked.  It could also be useful in parking or backing up as it gives you a bit of a surround view - almost into your blind spots.  

Seats - While comfortable and roomy, it seems a bit unusual that the seats are manually adjusted.  In a Premier model, I would expect electronically adjustable seats with memory.  Perhaps it was a space/weight issue.  

Other Features

Infotainment - Great Bose sound system and intuitive radio controls as you'd expect in most modern vehicles.  I like the sound level adjustments on the back side of the steering wheel. It also includes a WiFi hotspot.

Lane Keep and Following Distance Indicator - The Lane Keep will ensure you stay in your lane. There are display icons to indicate your lane position and following distance.  

Phone Pairing - Easy to set up and use for multiple phones.  Voice commands work well.  Android Auto does the trick for navigation, phone, text messaging, and other phone apps.  

​MyChevrolet App (and MyChevrolet.com) - Allows you to monitor your car's location, battery level, range, energy usage, and to perform remote start/stop (e.g. to warm up the interior before you leave while still plugged in, saving energy).

There are many other features including scheduled charging, scheduled start and stop (for warming/cooling above), top off - leaving the battery partially uncharged to take advantage of regen charging on a descent after starting.  Many of these we'll probably never use.

I've heard some people complain about the shifter.  I'm not sure what they're complaining about. It makes sense to me.  Of course I haven't had to put it in neutral for a car wash yet.  Per the owner's manual, that looks more complicated than it needs to be.  

The Bolt comes with 2 free maintenance visits and free roadside assistance, 5 years of Basic Onstar service with 3 months of free full service, a 3 month SiriusXM satellite radio subscription, a 3 year/36,000 mile bumper to bumper warranty, a 5 year/60,000 powertrain warranty,  and an 8 year/100,000 mile electric propulsion warranty.  

A Few Negatives

No Battery Level Indicator - Maybe it exists, but I couldn't find a battery level indicator.  Sure, the Bolt provides great range estimation, and several customizable reports on energy usage and efficiency, but I really like to know how much battery is left (as a numerical percentage of the capacity).  While this is available through the MyChevrolet App, it really should be in the car itself.

No Navigation - Okay.  We do use Google Maps for most of our navigation and it works fine through Android Auto.  However, on the coast and in the mountains, we're often in areas where there is no cell service.  It would be nice to have Nav for these areas.  
 
KeyPass - I spent far too much time trying to figure this out.  Theoretically, you pair your phone to allow it to control the car through the MyChevrolet App.  There's a set up screen in the Settings section.  You can follow the instructions in the Owner's Manual but they don't work.  At this point, I think the feature is no longer supported.  I suspect the MyChevrolet App does all it can without KeyPass.  I'll let you know if I find out more.

Owner Registration - Apparently MyChevrolet (App and Website) only allows one owner account.  Thus, my wife has to use my log in to get information about the car and to manage it remotely.  

Conclusions

We LOVE this car.  Amazing handling, fun to drive, and very practical for our sports-intensive activities.  Having driven a Ford Focus EV for the past 3 years, there's no question that the Bolt is a quantum leap ahead.  We're expecting the Bolt will meet 98% of our driving needs.  We won't be taking it to the snow.  We're hoping we can take it on longer trips using Fast Charging.  It looks like this is getting easier as ChargePoint, EVgo, and others have teamed up to share infrastructure - it appears that we can use our ChargePoint cards on EVgo stations (and vice versa).  This is part of the ROEV initiative where the charging network providers share resources much like using different banks' ATMs.  

For those who have been following Bolt production, ours was ordered 10/10/16 with a targeted production week of 11/28/16.  To my understanding we were number 11 on the wait list.  15 Bolts came in on 12/29 and apparently a few of the people lower down on the list did not receive theirs yet.  We're grateful to Kevin Rodriguez, Phil Benavidez, and Scott Jobe of Capitol Chevrolet for making our Bolt acquistion an enjoyable process.  But especially to Kevin who kept me regularly up to date after our first conversation in June of last year.  

Click here to read about our 350 mile trip from Santa Cruz to San Luis Obispo and back.

A Few Updates (1/15/2017)

It just keeps getting better.  With our Focus Electric, we were always concerned about whether we had charged it or not.  Sometimes after a run up the coast, if I'd forgotten to plug in, we were limited in additional miles and had to wait for a recharge.  Not so with the Bolt.  As strange as it may sound, we just don't worry about charging anymore.  We can drive pretty much anywhere we want and there's so much range left, that we don't need to plug in.  Even better, we don't hesitate to use the climate control.  Obviously, with the bigger battery, its impact is proportionally less, but it also seems to be more efficient - it doesn't reduce our projected range by anywhere near as much.  And, it appears that for our short and around-town trips, we're getting over 300 miles of range.  In other words, all of a sudden, our electric car is like a combustion engine car. Range anxiety is gone (though we do have to think a bit about longer trips).  But for 98% of our driving, we can't tell the difference.  The handling is phenomenal and is more like a European car, the ride is solid, and with the range, comfort, and storage space, I can't imagine a better car.  Given a choice between a Tesla and a Bolt, I'll take the Bolt.  

Just received a message on starting the Bolt that Keypass is ready to be activated.  It appears a software update was done transparently and this feature now works.  Haven't tried it yet, but I'm pleased to see that Chevy is on top of automatic software updates.

And here's a post about what we've discovered about charging:

Can a #BoltEV be your Primary Vehicle?

Last week, Chevy delivered Bolt EVs to its first three customers in Fremont, California, home of Tesla.  The rest of the Bolts pictured at left were not destined for customers; they went to local Bay Area dealers as test drive vehicles. Scott Jobe, GM of Capital Chevrolet left the announcement event and drove a fully loaded orange Premier Bolt (complete with Infotainment Package, Driver Confidence II Package, and Fast Charging) to his dealership in San Jose.  Within minutes of his arrival, Kevin Rodriguez, our incredibly responsive sales rep, called us to offer a test drive.  Yesterday we took the Bolt out for 30+ minutes of varied driving.  

I'll be posting at least two more blogs about the Bolt after we receive ours (hopefully this coming week), but here are our first impressions including very preliminary pros and cons.  For more information on the Bolt, check out ​We Ordered a Chevy Bolt.  Pricing, Features, and Availability, my previous post about the Bolt.  

Also, you should know that we are no strangers to EVs.  We have owned a Ford Focus EV for the past three years and have learned quite a bit about the advantages and disadvantages of driving an EV.  For more on our Ford Focus EV, see Our #EV (Electric Vehicle), Pros and Cons.

The Test Drive

Karen manually adjusted the driver's seat and declared it quite comfortable.  I rode shotgun.  

Anxious to get driving, we only took a few minutes to explore the 8" driver information panel and the 10 inch center console display, but at first glance, they seemed intuitive.  It was easy to navigate between phone, entertainment, camera, and other features on the console.   While the console, phone and infotainment systems are far superior to the Focus, I must admit to prefering the analog speedometer of the Focus.  

We were very curious about the surround vision feature.  I'd read that it gives you a virtual bird's-eye view of the car from above but I didn't see how that was possible.  But in fact, looking at the image, it does indeed appear that there's a camera placed 30 feet above the car.  You see the car and everything around it.  It operates while backing up and while going forward at low speeds - 8mph or less according to Kevin.  It will certainly be useful when parking or maneuvering in tight spaces where you might not see objects to the front or side.  

Of course, there isn't really a camera 30' above the car - no personal drone yet.  Instead, the Bolt has cameras on the front, sides, and rear of the car which it combines to create a virtual image. The giveaway was that the car in the image appeared white while ours was that beautiful orange color (not my favorite).

Another feature we were excited to see was the rear view mirror camera.  While the Bolt does have a back-up camera, the Premier edition's rear view mirror itself optionally displays what's behind you via the rear camera while you are driving.  This could be useful when the car is loaded and you can't see out the back, and perhaps during daytime driving since it shows more than the standard mirror can. Karen felt that it needed to be positioned correctly to avoid reflections from the back seat and glare.  For me, it was a bit disconcerting, but I think I could get used to it.

Before leaving the dealership, I noted that the driver information display indicated 192 miles of range, 150 miles on the odometer, and an average energy consumption of 3kWH per mile.  That seemed a bit low (238 mile range on a 60kWH battery should yield closer to 4kWh per mile).  But we didn't know how the car had been driven and didn't spend any time on this.  

Karen pulled out of the dealership and we were pleased to discover that unlike the Focus, whose front wheels spin easily because of omni-present 100% torque and placement of the battery (under and behind the rear seats), the Bolt started smoothly.  We headed towards the freeway and Karen tried to get used to the regen braking in Low mode as we stopped at lights.  The Focus didn't give the driver any control over regen.  If you were coasting, it regened.  I suspect that although the Bolt is less intuitive in this regard, this is how they get such great range on a 60kWH battery.

Reaching the onramp, the Bolt accelerated smoothly, merging into traffic as easily as our Audi Allroad - the 0-60 acceleration times are comparable.  The ride on the highway was smooth and the car handled well.  Our only concern was that the wind noise was louder than we expected.  

Karen left the highway after a few miles, parked in a shopping center, and we switched places. The rear camera gives you optional parking assist lines and warnings as people and vehicles pass behind you.  Maneuvering around the busy parking lot was quick and responsive as we avoided holiday shoppers who weren't paying attention.  

Out on the surface streets, it was my turn to try to get used to the single-pedal driving.  I'm sure we'll get there with more practice.  I found the Bolt to handle extremely well around corners - much better than the Focus, and was very pleased with its turning radius (we often had to do three-point turns in the Focus).  

We headed back to the dealership and upon arriving, while we had probably driven 7 or 8 miles, I noted that the range still indicated 192 miles.  

​We asked Kevin about Navigation, and he said that Chevy had told him the Bolt would not have Nav in the future.  People prefer to use their phones (which connect to the console through Android Auto or Apple Car Play).  And while it's true that we often use Google Maps instead of our Nav systems.  When we're out of cell range (which happens often for us), we rely on our cars' Nav systems.  I admit to being disappointed that the Bolt would not add Nav as a software upgrade in the future.

People were waiting to test drive the Bolt so we didn't get to spend any time with the console and information display.  I would have liked to see what the configuration options were like for energy consumption tracking.    

Here are a few very preliminary pros and cons compared to the Ford Focus EV based solely on our test drive experience:

Pros
Smooth start - the torque does not cause spinning wheels.
Comfortable ride.
Very good handling - tight, solid, but comfortable.
Excellent turning radius.
Intuitive controls and displays.
Cool surround vision.
Great visibility.
Clever headrest adjustments.
Extremely roomy for passengers and cargo, excellent legroom and leg width, excellent headroom, front and back.
Convenient place for purse  under the dash, in front of the shifter.  

Cons
Not quite as luxurious as you might expect for a Premier model.
A bit louder than expected on the highway.
No Navigation system (must use Android Auto, Apple Car Play, or Onstar)
Rear view mirror camera will take some getting used to.

We haven't said anything about range, charging, etc., because we really didn't get  to test these aspects of the Bolt.  That will wait until we get our own Bolt.  According to Kevin, the dealership is expecting 55 Bolts in the next week or so and we're number 11 on the list.  I'll do a post on our full impressions after we get ours and will follow it with another post about our experiences on our first 'long range' trip which we're planning for January.  

We loved our Focus.  For us, in spite of its range limitations and handling issues, it was a great first step into the world of EVs.  We saved a lot of money on gas, only filling the Audi when we had longer trips to take.

Three years later, we're excited that the Bolt has leaped into the next generation of affordable EVs.  We hope we're well on our way to a zero emissions future and elimination of our dependence on gasoline.  

Update - here are blogs about our new Chevy Bolt:

We Love our Chevy Bolt!
Our Bolt EV's First Longer Trip and Fast Charging Surprises​
​Can a #BoltEV be your Primary Vehicle?
BoltEV from California to Oregon for the eclipse with mi/kWh between I-5 charging stations

The media has been going crazy recently talking about fake news, conspiracy theories, lies, and damnable lies.  With the advent of Social Media, how does anyone know what's true anymore?  Has truth become relative? Has it always been so?  Do facts exist?  

The credibility of the mainstream media has been called into question.   Is there any difference between what mainstream media says and what the average person says?  After all, much of our news today comes from real time video by people who happen to be on the scene, not professional reporters.   We see much more unfiltered reality this way than we ever did before.  Whether it's natural disasters or a police shooting caught on video,  we don't rely on mainstream media as much as we used to.   

Adding to their credibility problem, the mainstream media has demonstrated strong biases in their reporting.  This has become more pronounced as print media has suffered from the onslaught of online information. Budgets have been cut, and formerly reliable print media sources have been purchased by large corporations focused on profits, not truth.  Many of the large corporate owners demand that these once reilable sources slant their coverage or  sensationalize it in ways that were never done before.  

But if news can come from anyone, and people have their own agendas too, who can you trust?

Fake news has made headlines lately with the election.  Was it the Russians, teenagers looking to make some fast cash by getting lots of hits on their nascent sponsored sites or posts, or political operatives trying to sway people?  Will the Internet always be susceptible to these types of 'schemes'?  Will we see more incidents of people so convinced that falsehoods are true that they resort to violence in order to right imagined wrongs?  Will propaganda become the currency of our modern internet age?  Or has it already?

If you have millions of social media contacts and can shout your message out to them, a large percentage will believe almost whatever you say.  The more contacts you have and the more people who propagate your claims, the more your message sounds true.  Fake news uses this, jihadists use it, political extremists use it, and now, it's becoming mainstream.  We're overloaded with propaganda.  How do we find the truth?

Many pundits claim that we just need to educate users to differentiate what's true from what's not.  Information consumers need to learn to take the time to look deeper into stories and their sources. Unfortunately, I don't think this could possibly work.  Some of the most intelligent people I know have shared misleading stories that have cherry-picked facts to appear more credible. Usually they've propagated these stories based on headlines that seem to support their own points of view. After all, we love it when we're proven to be right, don't we? 

If college-educated, internet-savvy people can do this, is there any hope for internet neophytes?

Is it really reasonable to expect us to fact-check everything we see on the Internet especially if it comes from our favorite, trusted social media sites and our friends?  

I don't think so.

We know that major players like Facebook, Twitter, Google, and others are now looking at how to protect their users from misleading and potentially damaging information without violating first amendment rights to free speech and freedom of expression.    But so far, interviews with their technologists seem to indicate that the problem may be intractable.  I'm not so sure.  It might not be that difficult.

I've noticed that some sites, like Yahoo News, offer a scoring mechanism for stories they publish. If you roll over the headline for the story, a meter pops up showing the number of people who liked the story versus the number who didn't or who were neutral about it.  This certainly doesn't address the problem at hand as it just indicates how popular a story (and its positions) might be. But it might be an idea that can be built upon.  What if we could roll over a story, post, tweet, search result, etc., and see a credibility meter instead?

As a technologist, I often look to working solutions to see if they can be applied to new problems. In this case, a proven model has been staring us in the face.  

A Proven Model We Can Start With
Not so long ago email spam was a major problem.  We'd receive hundreds or thousands of emails a day. The majority were just junk; some were dangerous (with viruses attached); many were scams; and then lost in the midst of all that junk, were the ones you really wanted to read. It was a disaster for most of us, causing lost productivity, wasted time, and in some cases damage to systems or pocket books.

And yet, in spite of the fact that there are a reported 400 BILLION spam messages per day on the internet,  you don't hear much about spam anymore.  It exists, but we now have spam filters that protect us.   

Spam filters work through a combination of software running on our Internet Service Providers' (ISPs) mail servers and on our own computers.  

At the highest level, these programs look at the email headers to track the path of the message back to its source.  They then validate the sources against blacklists that include known spammers.  Many compare against white lists (known and approved email servers).    Next, they apply content filtering using algorithms to recognize common content in known spam.  They assign a score to each email.  Based on that score, which is computed from a combination of the reliability of the source and the content, they decide whether to delete the message, to designate it as probably spam, or pass the message as valid.  If you look closely at your complete email headers, you can usually see each message's spam score.  It's not a perfect system, but it works well enough to spare us from being innundated by unidentified spam.   

Social media networks, search engines, news outlets, etc. could use a very similar method to validate posts.  It's not terribly hard to find the sources of posts, messages, or stories, and from that, to assign a credibility score based on the originator's history of reliability. When displaying the story, it could include a rollover  'Credibility Meter'.  Move your mouse over the search result, post, message, etc and a widget would appear giving you the score for this particular content.

A simple version of this filter could be developed and deployed very quickly. Later, as content dissecting algorithms become more sophisticated, so too can the accuracy of the reliability score.  

I note that even in its simplest form, a Credibility Meter of this sort would at least let us know if we should dig deeper into the source and credibility of the story.  At the same time, sources with low credibility scores would be motivated to create more factual posts to raise their scores.  Ultimately, we'd see more reliable information on the internet.

Clearly, I'm not advocating a right or wrong, absolute fact or lie approach here.  I'm just suggesting that news and social media assign scores to information we receive, based on the likelihood of it being reliable and on the credibility scores of the originator and the people who repost.  That way, we can decide if we need to dig deeper or just want to believe what we see on the Internet.

I mentioned this idea to my former team over lunch today and one of my engineers is already at work to create a prototype.  But as I told him, with such an obvious solution, I'd be surprised if someone else isn't already working on it.

by Steve Jackowski

​I like to solve problems.  I also appreciate the instant gratification I get in solving Sudoku, KenKen, Minesweeper, or even FreeCell games as fast as I can.  The faster the better.

During my career, my teams and I were often faced with problems that couldn't be solved in minutes, hours, or even days.  We used systematic methods which required laying out multiple approaches to get to as many possible answers as possible.  Collaboration usually helped. Persistence helped.  But often we needed to walk away for a while and let our subconscious do the work; the answers arriving at odd times, like while taking a shower. 

I must admit that I worry about our problem solving abilities.  It seems like almost everything we do today is about faster and faster.  If we can't get gratification in a matter of minutes, we move on to something else.  Our attention spans are getting shorter.  Computers and our intelligent portable devices make this easier and easier.  I wonder if these addictions will lead us away from the sustained efforts needed to solve real world problems.  

In thinking about this, I remembered the first sustained problem-solving effort I faced.  I was 16.   My high school Calculus teacher presented a challenge to the class.  The first person to solve it would receive bonus points which could lead to the ever-sought-after A+.  He had discovered the problem in that month's issue of Scientific American.  It sounded simple enough:

Create all the number from 1 to 100 using exactly four 4s.  

I dove right in, even before class was over and several numbers fell out quickly: 

1 = (4+4)/(4+4)
2 = (4*4)/(4+4)
3 = (4+4+4)/4
etc...

​But it didn't take long before I got stuck.  I decided to keep moving on, skipping those that I couldn't get quickly.   Once I realized I could use 4! (4*3*2*1 = 24), many more fell out.  But I got really stuck on several.  Days passed (I worked on this in my spare time) and one or two would fall out, then I'd be stuck again.  Skip the next two paragraphs of this post if you don't want any more hints.

Ultimately, I understood that to solve the harder ones I needed to create tools - combinations of 4s (e.g. 4/.4 = 10) that I could use in other expressions ( e.g. (4/.4)*sqrt(4)+4 = 24 - note that I used 'sqrt' here because I couldn't easily add the square root symbol in this post).  

The key was to think about other representations of 4, like factorial or square root, and then combine that with other representations to create numbers I could use to multiply, divide, add, or perform other operations with. It was a week or more before I had the tool building realization and then it took longer to build all the tools I needed.  When I got really stuck it was usually because I needed to create a new tool.  

Skip to here.

All told, it took me about 3 weeks.  I was pretty proud of the fact that I was the first in the class to come up with a solution and my Calculus teacher admitted that he hadn't solved it yet.  By the end of the term, as it turned out, no one else in all of his classes had solved it either.  I'm not saying it to brag, I'm just laying down the challenge.  Granted I've given you some hints that took me a while to get, but I'd be curious to see how long it takes you. 

Since I haven't looked at this problem in decades (and I didn't keep the solution anywhere), I'm going to start on it myself.

If you get really stuck, contact me via the website and I'll give you more hints or some additional tools.  Have fun!

When we finished our visit to San Juan de Gaztelugatxe​, we were a bit tired from the climb back up the 600 foot cliff.  But it was still early in the day and the late October weather was gorgeous with temperatures in the upper 70s.  We weren't sure whether we were up for another hike or just wanted to kick back on the edge of the water in one of the many seaside towns on the Spanish Basque Coast.

The coastline here is rugged.  It reminds me a bit of Big Sur with its imposing cliffs, precipitous drops to the sea,  rocks formations and small islands, and spectacular views.  The big difference is the rivers.  There's lots of water here and rivers rush from the Pyrenees to the ocean carving wide fertile valleys and creating coves and harbors with beautiful sandy beaches.  The beaches and harbors are protected by the huge cliffs to the east and west (remember this part of the coast of Spain faces north).  

Jean-Luc and Elaine pulled out a guidebook for hikes in the Basque region and one caught my eye - a hike to the Lighthouse at the End of the World.  As it turned out, Jean-Luc and Elaine had done the hike so they were somewhat familiar with the area.  We set off on a scenic 25-minute drive to Gorliz where the trail began.  As we neared Gorliz, Elaine remembered the initial climb out of Gorliz towards the lighthouse, and after the morning's climb, suggested we might want to  see if we could get closer to the lighthouse to make it an easier hike.  She suggested a service road a service road they'd crossed the previous time and thought that we might be able to drive part way up.  Unfortunately, the road was closed to non-service vehicles, so we made our way to a cafe overlooking the beach at Gorliz to discuss our options.   

The beach was impressive - long, and completely deserted, aside from a few naturistes on the east end below the cafe's terrace.  

The village of Gorliz has about 5,000 permanent residents.  It's effectively a suburb of Bilbao and is the last stop on Bilbao's underground metro line.  The bay and beach were formed by the Plentzia River on the west end.  There's a protected harbor entrance at the mouth of the river. The large building on the beach path (as seen in the picture at the top of this post), is not a Casino as you might imagine, it's the hospital.  In the 1920s, Gorliz was the first place on the Basque coast to set up a salt-water spa for health treatments.  Now these are found in many of the towns and villages dotting the coast.  Karen and Elaine frequently go to the Thalassotherapy Spas in Hendaye and Saint-Jean-de-Luz.

Re-energized after their coffees, Elaine, Jean-Luc, and Karen thought we might give the hike a try after all.  

The climb up the trail from the east end of the beach was more challenging than expected but afforded us impressive views of Gorlitz, its beach, and the Plentzia River.  With the rising temperatures and the late October sun, we were grateful for the shade as we ascended the forested trail.  As we rounded the corner above the edge of the bay, the views to the west were breathtaking.  We kept thinking the trail would flatten out but it kept climbing.  

When the trail started to descend, we thought we had reached the highest point.  But no.  We had to go down a couple hundred feet, then climb a few hundred feet up the next hill.  That one had no trees and no shade.  We seriously discussed turning back.  But the lighthouse called.

We passed fields of wild crocus, and made our way up to the next highest point where we finally saw the Lighthouse at the End of the World.   
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We followed the trail down to the access road which led to the lighthouse.  

The lighthouse itself wasn't particularly spectacular.  And while the views to the west were breathtaking, there was no way to see to the east - the part of the cliff that would have afforded that view  was overgrown with plants.  I must admit to being disappointed.  I also thought that it didn't live up to its 'end of the world' billing. 

There were also pictures and maps of the area marking additional hiking trails and describing the lighthouse's and the area's history.  

The trail starts again behind the lighthouse and climbs another hundred feet or so, passing bunkers and underground galleries complete with cannons built by Franco after the Spanish Civil war in anticipation of an invasion by the allies during WWII.  The trail then winds through scenic hills and valleys back to Gorliz.  

At this point, though, we were a bit tired.  Having climbed the cliffs of San Juan de Gaztelugatxe earlier and adding another thousand vertical feet here, we decided to take the shady service road back to Gorliz as the sun was setting.  

An hour and a half later we were home and got cleaned up for a romantic dinner at one of our local favorites, Tantina de la Playa in Bidart.  

If you decide to try the trail to the Lighthouse at the End of the World, set your expectations low for the lighthouse itself.  As for the rest of the hike, it's definitely worth it: incomparable views, some interesting history, and a somewhat challenging 6.4 km (4 mile), 300 meter (1000 foot) vertical loop.  And if it's summer or a warm fall day, don't forget to enjoy the beach and crystal clear waters of the Bay of Plentzia in Gorliz.

We'd had a couple of days of light rain in the Pays Basque region of France, but the forecast was for fair weather with temperatures rising into the upper 70s.  A perfect day for a bit of exploring on the Spanish Basque coast.  

We had originally planned to do the seven or eight mile hike near Itxaspe to see the spectacular Flysch (wildly twisted rock) formations in the cliffs along with caves, deserted beaches, and possibly some interesting surf spots.  Unfortunately, after mentioning this plan to some friends over lunch, we were informed that the cast and crew of Game of Thrones had taken over this stretch of coastline for the next week.  They had also recruited hundreds of extras for the shoots - but you had to be big, tall, hairy and ugly.  Clearly I didn't fit the bill.

Our next choice was San Juan de Gaztelugatxe, a medieval Hermitage built in the ninth century by the Knights Templar on a tiny island just off the Basque coast.  It is connected to the mainland by what our friend Elaine calls 'the great wall of China'.   

We awoke to light rain, but trusting the weather forecast (a crazy thing to do in the Pays Basque), we picked up Elaine and her significant-other, Jean-Luc, and headed into Spain.  Half an hour into our drive, the skies cleared.  It was going to be a fine day.

To get to San Juan de Gaztelugatxe, we took the A-8 towards Bilbao - about 90 minutes away, then headed north to the coast passing through the beach resort town of Bakio.  We drove past the entrance to the parking area, thinking there might be another trail down from further up the road, and quickly discovered that the road was closed because the cliffs had fallen in.  We had originally thought that after this hike, we might continue up the road to Bermeo, one of the largest Basque ports, but that wasn't going to be possible.  Also, any alternative trails were long gone with the slides.  

We parked in the mostly deserted parking lot and made our way to the trail noticing that in spite of the fine weather in late October, the nearby restaurants were closed.  Fortunately, we'd brought a picnic lunch which we planned to eat once we reached the Hermitage.  

The sign on the trail indicated it was only about 1.5km (about half a mile) to the Hermitage.  I found this hard to believe because we were at least 600 vertical feet above the ocean, and we had to then climb an additional 300 feet up to the Hermitage.  

We started down and discovered that the trail was wide but quite steep.  ​No one was looking forward to the climb back up.

Nearing the bottom, we crossed a service road and shortly thereafter came to the wall/bridge that leads to the island.  The coastline to the east and to the west (remember, the Spanish coastline here faces north) is spectacular with small islands, imposing cliffs and numerous 'natural bridges'.  The 'wall' is even more impressive. Between the mainland and the island, at high tide, water passes through large arches in the bridge. Surprisingly, there are steps down the side that lead to these arches if you want a more impressive view.  Fortunately for us, the tide was high and there were a few workers cleaning the rough stones on the steps down.  With the heavy surf crashing below, we weren't tempted.  

Instead, we began the climb up the 237 steps to the Hermitage.  

It's a challenging climb up the steps and ramps, but there are handrails and numerous flat places to stop and take pictures (or to catch your breath).  

Arriving at the top, you round the main building and you see the huge wooden doors to the Hermitage, along with a rope that leads up to the bell tower.  

Legend has it that once you've made the trek, you should ring the bell three times and make a wish.  

Although there aren't many people who live nearby on the mainland across from the island, I have to believe that the neighbors get pretty tired of the ringing bell, especially during the summer tourist season.

We toured the top of the island looking for a good place to picnic and finally settled on a sun-sheltered structure on the side of the church.  Unfortunately, the church doors were locked, so we were forced to peek through the crack in the doors to see the interior.  
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Gaztelugatxe comes from two Basque words - gaztelu which means castle or fortress, and gatxe which means tremendously difficult.  

Historians aren't clear exactly when the Hermitage was built. However, there are nearby graves dating from the 9th century and historical records showing its existence in the 10th century.  It was apparently built by the Knights Templar and became a monastery during first part of the 11th century.

Interestingly, this small island and its Hermitage were the site of several strategic battles.  Its access was challenging so the site was easily defensible and over the course of its history, several notable figures made successful 'last' stands here.

Seeing its strategic importance, Sir Francis Drake successfully attacked and conquered the site in 1593.  Since then, the site has changed hands numerous times.  

The history is interesting. The short though challenging walk down the cliffs, up to the Hermitage, then down from the Hermitage and back up the cliffs can be exhausting.  Still, the views are worth the effort.  If you're in the area, it's definitely worth the short detour from Bilbao to see San Juan de Gaztelugatxe.  

​By the way, apparently the cast and crew of Game of Thrones will also be using San Juan de Gaztelugatxe in episodes this next season.  Watch for it!

I'm a skeptic.  When I studied philosophy, I called myself an empiricist.  Essentially, I don't believe in things unless they're proven.  This is especially true when it comes to medical fads:  vitamins, supplements, dietary changes, alternative medicine - you name it.  Unless I can see some double blind studies that show solid evidence of their efficacy, count me out.  

Of course sometimes my skepticism goes too far.  I like to think that I'm well-read and well-informed, but the reality is, you can't know everything, no matter how hard you try.  So what about the things you don't know about?  Me, I try to do the research, but it's usually only after I bump into these unknowns in some way or another.  

This was the case with Osteopathy.  I knew Karen's son (Victor) and daughter (Sabrina)  had enrolled in medical school and I knew that each of their schools specialized in Osteopathy.  From my rudimentary understanding at the time, it seemed like it had something to do with manual manipulation to supplement standard medical care - something like chiropractic.  But, since it didn't affect me, I didn't pay much attention.  

Fast forward a couple of years.  It's the day after Christmas and I'm surfing with a couple of friends on the north coast.  Perfect morning, excellent uncrowded waves, good company.  I climbed the cliff, drove home, and took a shower.  Within an hour, I couldn't raise my right arm. The funny thing was that I couldn't remember hurting myself in the surf.  Sure there were some tough duck dives and a few rail grabs, but usually I know when I've pulled something.  Not this time.  

It was officially a holiday and I knew my sports-med doc wouldn't be available so I went with the standard RICE treatment (Rest, Ice, Compression, and Elevation).  I also loaded up on Ibuprofen. The next day it was worse, not better.  I called the Doc's office and found out they were closed until after the first of the year.  I called back-up sports-med docs and all were out for the rest of the year as well.  All I could do was continue my RICE treatment.  

At one point, I tried some stretching, but no luck.  I had to eat left-handed, drive with one hand - do everything left handed - I couldn't raise my arm more than an inch or two and then, only with extreme pain.  

Of course I went to the internet and quickly determined that the main area of pain was the coracoid process with radiating pain into the scapula and bicep, but I was unable to find anything that seemed to relate to my specific problem.

The following weekend, Karen and I were on a call with Karen's daughter, Sabrina (who now runs Resilience Health in Eugene, Oregon) and soon-to-be son-in-law, Steve (another Osteopath focusing on Family Medicine).  I described my problem and Sabrina proposed the following: "Lie on your back. Have my Mom put the index finger of her right hand on your coracoid process and simultaneously lift your right arm into a fainting woman's position - palm outward on your forehead.  Have her re-position the arm until you have minimal pain in the coracoid process. Have her hold that position for ninety seconds.  Then have her return your arm to your side and rest for five or ten minutes."  

We did as she asked.  Ten minutes later, I sat up and raised my arm to shoulder level.   After an hour, I could raise my arm over my head with zero pain.  Later that afternoon, Karen and I were Salsa dancing at Salsa by the Sea and I had no recurring problems.

In between we called her back and she explained how this worked.  I'm not an Osteopath, so I'll paraphrase.  Basically, sometimes nerves send bad signals to the brain and the brain reinforces a problem by trying to fix it.  Swelling and pain may increase and your body gets into a feedback loop.  The technique she used is called Counterstrain.  The pressure on the specific point and re-positioning sends a reset signal to the brain allowing the body to move on.  It certainly worked for me.   After a week with a paralyzed arm, this instant recovery seemed truly miraculous.  

As I often do when I find something new, I went crazy doing research into Osteopathy.  I discovered that Osteopathic physicians are regular physicians - they can do family medicine, psychiatry, surgery - anything an 'Allopathic' doctor can do.   But, during medical school, in addition to the standard medical training, they study Osteopathy.  They also are trained to do more holistic evaluation and treatment of patients, focusing on causes, not just treating symptoms.  Osteopaths try to tap into the body's ability to heal itself before moving on to more aggressive treatments.  Officially Osteopathy is:

a system of complementary medicine involving the treatment of medical disorders through the manipulation and massage of the skeleton and musculature.

You can recognize Osteopaths by the 'DO' after their names as opposed to an 'MD' for an Allopathic doctor.  

A year and a half after that first incident, I was surfing the same spot. I pulled into a barrel which collapsed on me.  I held onto my board and felt my left shoulder tear.  By time I got my wetsuit off, my shoulder had swollen to the size of a grapefruit.  I raced home.

Fortunately, Karen's son, Victor, an Osteopath who focuses on Neuromuscular Medicine and now runs Seek Optimal Health with his wife Lee Ann (also a gifted Osteopath specializing in Neuromuscular Medicine), was visiting.  He stretched me out and started working on me.  He discovered (without an MRI), a small rotator cuff tear and a misalignment.  He treated me for about 45 minutes (most of it was painful), after which he explained that he had opened up passages (my word) to release the built up fluid (swelling), and had re-positioned my shoulder and upper back.  He suggested I follow up with RICE and Ibuprofen for 3 days after which time I could get back in the water.

As I got up, I discovered that at least 90% of the swelling was gone as was most of the pain.  I followed his advice and sure enough, 3 days later, I was back in the water.  

In the years since, Osteopathy has become a regular part of my treatment for acute injuries.  It has proven very effective, especially when combined with good physical therapy.  Most Osteopaths suggest regular treatment to keep the body aligned and fluids flowing.  I haven't gone that far yet, but I may well be on my way.  

If you're like me and injure yourself from time to time, I strongly suggest consulting an Osteopath. Of course, check to see if your family doctor or Sports Medicine expert is a DO.  I think you'll be pleased to find that miracles still exist in modern medicine.  

It was a spectacular day on the north coast.  A friend I hadn't seen in years came up to surf with me and there were only four of us out in perfect shoulder-high waves with a few plus sets.  An hour into the session, I raced down the line hoping for a barrel in the section ahead, but at the last second, the water under the section drained with the dropping tide and I tried to turn down and out. 

Unfortunately, the back rail of my board hung up and did an el-rollo with my foot while my knee went in the opposite direction.  I felt a major tearing.  I paddled back into the lineup and talked to the physical therapist who was surfing with us.  He suggested that from the symptoms, it was a MCL tear - one of the most common surfing injuries.  He also said that if the injury didn't involve other ligaments or the meniscus, it likely wouldn't need surgery.  

Ironically, a few minutes later, my friend hurt his back, so we hobbled up the cliff together, disappointed at the number of uncrowded perfect waves we were going to miss.  

I raced home, showered, iced, and elevated my leg, then waited patiently for the arrival of Karen's son and daughter-in-law, both Osteopaths and specialists in Neuromuscular Medicine. They were planning to spend part of the weekend with us.  Two rounds of disc golf were scheduled for the next day and I envisioned being able to play.   Little did I know.

By the fifth week, I was feeling pretty good.  The swelling was almost completely gone and although my knee would get stiff if I sat for a while, doing the passive knee extension and flexion after getting up seemed to work well.  I bought a brace with a strap, and decided to try to surf.  The strap is cool because you can wrap it around the weak parts of your knee to provide much more support.  It stretches so you can make it really tight and it velcros to itself.  

I paddled out into easy, mushy rights and lefts.  My first wave was a right (backside for me), and as I started my bottom turn, I felt my knee give and pull.  It hurt like hell but the pain subsided quickly,  I decided to try a left and had no pain at all until I did an aggressive cutback.  I stuck with lefts for the next hour and surfed cautiously.  Unfortunately, I discovered that when you duck a wave, the wave pulls at your legs, sometimes to the side, and when that happened it definitely hurt.  I was sore after the session but I was glad to have surfed.  Still, I knew I wasn't ready.  It wouldn't take much to re-injure my knee in the surf.  Anything unforeseen would do real damage.  

I worked hard with the exercises and the gym the following week and tried again.  This time the waves were small but quick and mostly lefts.  I had a great time until I tried a right.  Again, driving off the back leg hurt.  It wasn't unstable like it was the week before, but still.  

It's now been eight weeks.  This past week, I was able to make full backside bottom turns and aggressive cutbacks on my lefts.  I surfed four really fun days.  On the last day though, I punched through a large set and got tossed around by the last wave.  I really felt it in my knee.  It didn't tear, wasn't any worse later, but I know that I can't let up on the strengthening exercises.  I still have a ways to go for 'full recovery'.  In the meantime, I can hike, dance, and play disc golf (took 4th in a tournament yesterday with no pain).  

Mistakes I made.

Realistically, Karen's son was right.  It's going to be 12 weeks for full recovery, particularly for surfing.  I seriously underestimated how much inward force you put on your knee in a backside turn or frontside cutback.  I seriously underestimated the force of the ocean, which is a very stupid thing to do.  And at the beginning, I tried to do too much too soon.  I'd try to push walking and tried to do the harder strengthening exercises when I wasn't ready.  Each time I did, it set me back a couple of days with renewed swelling and loss of flexibility.  

Overall though, I'm almost there.  Still, perhaps you can avoid some of the mistakes I made.

Set your expectations - it's going to take longer than you think.
Don't do too much too soon.  Be very cautious as you restart any activity.
Spend the extra for the best brace possible.

And, I think the main reason for my successful recovery is the dedication to the daily (or more) stretching exercises, and consistent and progressive strengthening exercises.  

The good news is that if it's an MCL tear with no other damage, you can rehab it yourself. But above all, you need Patience, Patience, Patience!

Update January 2018.

It's been a year and a half since I first injured my MCL as described above.  The rehab program worked, and I was back to full activity with maximal stress (surfing, extreme skiing, etc.) within 4 months (with a lot of hard work in rehabbing it).  Everything seemed fine and then, six weeks ago, while Salsa dancing on a rough surface, my foot caught in a fast turn and I felt my MCL pull.  It was too painful to continue dancing so I stopped.  By time I got home, my knee was hugely swollen.  I started the RICE treatment, but underestimated the severity of the injury.  Yes, it was only a grade 1 injury - there was no looseness under the Valgus test, but almost any activity caused huge swelling.  I consulted my muscular medicine doc and he informed me that re-injuries are often worse from the point of view of healing time.  Unfortunately, he was right. 

I hate being sidelined from the surf during one of the best seasons we've had in years.  And, not being able to run, dance, ski, etc. is depressing at this time of year.  

So here I am, six weeks later.  The pain is gone.  Most of the range of motion has returned (with lots of stretching), and I'm working on strengthening.  The plyometric exercises are still tough.  I did try surfing and easy front side is okay but I can tell I'm not quite ready for more aggressive turns.  I will be giving skiing a shot this week (now that there's a bit of snow in the Sierra).  In the meantime, I'm working hard on the strengthening and I now realize that to avoid re-re-injuring my knee, I need to keep up these exercises even after I'm back to 100%.  They're going to become part of my daily routine, much like core strengthening has.  Core strenghthening  resolved all of my back problems and I expect I can avoid further knee injuries if I keep up these knee exercises too.  

So, a final word of advice.  Once you're back to normal, don't stop your strengthening and range of motion exercises.  Do them regularly and hopefully, you can avoid a re-injury that will sideline you for several weeks.

If you liked this blog, please check out my novels.
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When Karen's beloved Subaru died three years ago, we knew we needed a new car.  Since my Audi could handle long distance and snow trips, we decided to go with an electric car.  It's primary use would be to take me up the coast to surf so a Tesla was out of the question: there was no way I was going to leave a Tesla on the side of Highway 1.  

​Aside from the Tesla,  the Ford Focus Electric was the best looking Electric Vehicle (EV) and had the best range.  Knowing technology would improve dramatically, we decided to do a three year lease.  For more on our initial impressions and experiences with driving an electric vehicle, see my post Our #EV (Electric Vehicle) Pros and Cons.  

​Three years have passed and we've loved our Focus.  Yes, there have been times where range anxiety took its toll, but after understanding its limitations, we realized that even with that limited range, we could do 80-90% of our driving in the Focus.   We were looking forward to a Focus with better range once our lease expired.

Unfortunately, as of early 2016 Ford had done little to improve the Focus's range.  So, knowing our lease was expiring in November, we were excited to hear that the Chevy Bolt, with a 238 mile range, would be available by the end of the year.  

I read the reviews and looked at videos of the first test drives by the various car publications and it looked like there were some great enhancements to the EV drive train.  Even better, it appeared that the official 238 mile range is a conservative estimate.  Several of the test drivers went much further, even with mostly highway driving (note that EVs get better range in the city than on higways).  

I looked at Chevy dealers in the immediate Bay Area and it appeared that Capitol Chevrolet had the best reviews and seemed to have the most inventory.  I contacted them in the spring, and Kevin Rodriguez told me that the dealers didn't know much about the Bolt but that he would keep me informed.  In August, he let me know that they would be able to take orders in November with some limited deliveries in December.  He said he could also now put me on a wait list for a Bolt.

In September, he reached out to inform me that they could take orders sometime in October - things were moving more quickly than expected.  Then, on Friday, I got the good news:  we could place an order on Monday.  And sure enough, he and his GM, Scott Jobe, made ordering the newest electric car a smooth, painless process.  

Since I haven't seen pricing for the Bolt and its options anywhere on the web, I thought I'd include them in this post.

The base model, the LT, at $37,495, comes with what you'd expect in a modern vehicle.  It includes a rear vision camera, a 10.2 inch touch console for car systems, entertainment, and EV information, keyless open and start, climate control, etc.  Its phone interface allows you to run music, apps, and Google Maps from your phone on the console.

The  Premier model, at $41,780, adds a rear mirror camera, surround vision where images from 4 cameras show the front, sides and rear of the car, roof rails, leather seats and steering wheel, front and rear heated seats and steering wheel, lane change alert, parking assist, rear traffic alert, and more.  

Options include a Fast charging port ($750), the infotainment system ($485) with premium quality audio, wireless device charging, 4G LTE hotspot, and additional USB ports, and the driver confidence package.  The driver confidence package ($495) includes front collision alert, optional automatic braking, lane assist, and Intellibeam headlights.  

GM has officially confirmed our order order and has promised regular updates as our car moves through the build process.  Scott told us to expect delivery in January but said he had hopes that we'd see our car before the end of the year - so far GM is beating expectation on their dates.  As soon as we get it, I'll post again to give you our first impressions of the new Bolt.   

Update - blogs about our new Chevy Bolt:

Chevy Bolt vs Ford Focus EV - First Impressions
We Love our new Chevy Bolt!
Our Bolt EV's First Longer Trip and Fast Charging Surprises
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Who knew that megaliths, menhirs, dolmen, and cromlechs lay just a few minutes away from our place in the Pays Basque?  I described some that we saw in Brittany in my post A Brief Trip up the West Coast of France - Quiberon.  Those were certainly impressive as were the associated museums that explained how they came to be.   But yesterday, we came upon local prehistoric structures during a hike in the Pyrenees just across the Spanish Border.  

Our friends Elaine and Jean-Luc invited us to visit Sare, a small Basque village at the foot of the Pyrenees where they claimed we could find the best gateau Basque in the region.  If the weather was nice, they proposed a short hike/walk from the village up towards the GR10 for some picturesque views, followed by a visit to the witches village, followed by a hike in an area they had recently discovered.  The GR10  is the Grande Randonnee trail that runs from the Atlantic to the Mediterranean along the Pyrenees - about 900 km (560 miles).  

We had agreed that if the weather was bad, we'd visit the famous caves of Sare and those in the witches' village.  As it turned out, the day was  overcast but comfortable, with the temperature about 70 degrees (20 C) - perfect weather for a hike.  Rain was forecast for late that night into the next day.  We decided to pass on the caves for this trip.

Karen and I encountered heavy Sunday morning traffic getting to Ciboure where we were to meet up with Elaine and Jean-Luc, so it was a bit later than expected when we left their place to begin our explorations.  After a 15 minute drive, we were in Sare.

Parking on a side street, we followed the signs towards the GR10.  Not far into our walk, we realized that there was a mountain bike competition going on as riders descended the trail at breakneck speeds towards the finish line on the fronton in the village.  We spoke to some of the trail monitors who told us that only about half the field had passed them so far.  So instead of continuing up the trail, we made our way back to the village where we realized we were hungry.  We visited all of the open restaurants but couldn't resist the tempting dishes we saw being served on the terrace of the Hotel Arraya.  The service and  food were excellent and as often happens with French meals, wine and dessert extended what was supposed to be a brief stop into a 2-hour lunch. 

After exploring the village, we stopped at a cafe across the small plaza from the Church of the Assumption for coffee (sparkling water for me), and our gateau Basque which was as good as promised.  We took the narrow road up the hill a short distance to the place where Elaine and Jean-Luc had hiked before.  They suggested we try a different trail, one on the right (west) side of the road.  There was a large sign in Spanish, Basque and French that described several trails.  Looking at the time, the thickening clouds, and recognizing that we had probably had too much food, we decided on a 5 km loop.  We didn't even think about what the red, 'pi'-like symbol was at the top, but were surprised to find that there would be megaliths along the trail.

​We started out on what looked like a well traveled path, but as we turned up the hill past an abandoned bergerie, the trail thinned and markings were hard to find.  We pushed on, assuming we had to get to the saddle on the top of the ridge.  Along the way, we passed groups of Potoks, the small horses that live in the Pyrenees.  

Once we reached the middle of the saddle, we couldn't easily determine whether to turn right or left.  I went left, Jean-Luc went right and about 100 yards from the saddle, Jean-Luc found a trail marker so we went that way.  If you go, when you reach the saddle, turn right (west).  Thereafter, the trail markers were easy to find. 

Climbing towards the west peak of the saddle, we had not only spectacular views of the French coastline and La Rhune, but of Spain to the south and the Pyrenees to the east.  We began our descent into a beautiful valley.  

Near the bottom of the hill, we saw our first marker for cromlechs.  Before I continue, let me give you a few definitions.  A menhir or megalith is an upright stone.  Most are flat.  Notable ones are several feet high, but sometimes they can be quite small.  A dolmen is a structure build of megaliths.  They usually have at least two upright stones with a flat capstone on top.  Most were used as burial tombs.  Some of the ones we saw in Brittany were huge.  It seemed like a feat of engineering to raise the capstones, but in fact, the process was quite simple.  After the side stones were placed, they filled the space between and around with dirt.  They  dragged the capstone onto the top of the mound, positioning it above the 'walls'.  Finally, they dug out the earthen mound leaving a stone structure - no pulley needed to raise a stone weighing many tons several feet to place it on top.  

Finally, a cromlech is a circle of menhirs or megaliths.  Stonehenge is probably the most well-know cromlech.  It appears no one knows exactly what cromlechs were used for.  At least that's the case outside the Basque region.  Theories abound.  But in the Basque region, archaeologists have concluded that these are burial site markers, often with a dolmen in the center.  Most of these structures were built between 4000 and 2000 B.C..

Continuing on our hike, we saw the marker for the cromlechs, but the cromlechs themselves weren't easy to spot.  Unlike Brittany where these monuments are well-maintained, those before us were buried in the ferns and tall grasses.  Plus, after 5,000 years of neglect in lightly traveled areas, most of the structures have fallen down or been eroded by the elements and severe storms of the Pyrenees.  Somehow though, finding these structures out in the middle of nowhere seemed more authentic.   ​

Leaving the cromlechs, we continued south along the trail through meadows, crossing streams, and entering the forest after the trail turned east to begin our loop back.  We passed a few bergeries and with the thickening clouds, began to wonder if we'd make it back before the rain started.  As we passed the 5 km point as indicated by Karen's Garmin, we still seemed to be quite far from our starting point.  But the trail was well-marked and there really weren't any alternatives unless you were a mountain goat, so we pressed on.

We crossed a boulder-filled creek next to a small waterfall and soon found ourselves on the edge of a the ridge that would lead us back to the car.   As we passed one final bergerie, the first few drops began to fall, but the car was in sight.    We got into the car, closed the doors, and the sky opened up.  Somehow even with the morning delays, the long lunch, and some trail misdirection, we'd timed it perfectly.  The hike was a bit over 6 km (not 5 km as promised by the sign), and it had taken us 2 hours including pictures and exploration of the cromlechs.  According to the sign, there are 7 km and 10 km monument hikes nearby.  We'll be going back and will allocate more time to explore.

I recently received a very complimentary email from a surfer/entrepreneur who had just read The Silicon Lathe.  He appreciated the parallels I tried to draw between extreme sports and trying to succeed in the Silicon Valley.  He spoke extensively about how the book accurately depicts the cutthroat competition of the Silicon Valley, especially for a young, idealistic entrepreneur.  But I think I most appreciated his comments about my treatment of surfing: "This is one of the truest descriptions of surfing I've ever read.  I made my wife read it and now she gets it."

Actually, I think he's wrong,  what I wrote isn't most intriguing example of surfing I've ever read (or written), and I'm pretty sure that without actually surfing, his wife doesn't really get it, but I thought I'd post one of the surfing excerpts here (there are several in the book, most more uplifting):

From The Silicon Lathe:

Surfing is not what most people think it is.  Films and popular culture have presented it as either Beach Blanket Bingo-like parties on the beach with everyone sharing waves, surf odysseys where you meet friendly people around the world as you search for the perfect wave, or hard core life-threatening big wave surfing, where one mistake means certain death.
In reality, surfing is much less romantic. 

First and foremost, it is the hardest sport I’ve ever tried.  You’re skiing intermediate and advanced slopes after a week or two of trying.  You can be soaring a hang glider within a couple of months of your first run down a sand dune.  You can be paddling intermediate Class 3 whitewater after several days on a river.  But with surfing, after two or three years of practicing every day, you might be an intermediate level surfer. 


Part of this is strength, conditioning, teaching your body to do something unnatural, learning the timing of the breaking waves and understanding the differences between waves on a beach break, reef breaks, and points.  You also need to know about tide changes, rip tides, wind forecasts, storm and swell prediction, and even water pollution levels which rise on the season’s first big swell or first major rain, both of which wash decaying matter from the hillsides and beaches into the ocean. I’ve already mentioned sharks.  But more than that, it’s cutthroat competition.  There are tens of thousands of surfers and they all expect to catch every wave that rolls in. 


Most surf spots have locals.  These are the surfers who surf there every day.  Take a wave that ‘belonged’ to a local, and you will be physically attacked by his friends when you get out of the water.  Your car will be vandalized; your girlfriend threatened.


Even when you’re a local, there are often so many people in the water that you’ll be lucky to get more than five waves in an hour.  With fifty-degree water and wind, even with your wetsuit, you get out of the water so cold that you can’t put your fingers together.  You might even have to ask a stranger to open the door to your car because you can’t grip and turn the key yourself.   And then there are the bad days. 

You paddle out, almost reaching the lineup – the place just outside the breaking waves where you wait to catch the oncoming swells, and a much larger than normal set of waves approaches.  You use all your strength to try to paddle over the wave, but it breaks on top of you.  You think this is okay because you and your board have punched through the wall of the wave and you are in the sunlight beyond.  Unfortunately, the force of the wave and the vacuum created as it tubes and barrels towards the beach grabs hold of your feet which are not all the way through.  The wave sucks you back into the hollowed hole from the collapsing tube and you are rolled over and over for what seems like minutes, even though it is only twenty or thirty seconds.  You finally get free of the wave’s clutches and float to the surface.  You quickly grab a breath as the next wave in the set breaks right in front of you.  You attempt to duck dive, to force you and your buoyant board deep under the oncoming wave, but when it’s big, you can’t get down deep enough.  The wave grabs you and your board and hurls you shoreward in a mass of churning whitewater.  You’re thrown upside down, sideways, in circles, sometimes bouncing off the bottom, stuffing your sinuses with water that will flow freely from your nose later in the day when you bend over to kiss someone.  When you finally escape this wave, there are more.  You may successfully duck dive, but with each successive wave, you lose more ground; you’re almost back to the beach. 


On a bad day, it’s all about luck and timing.  You try to paddle out again, and just as you reach the lineup, you repeat the experience.  After several times, you’re exhausted. Shoulders ache. Arms refuse to move.  As you try to get speed to paddle over the next set, you’re too weak and it just gets worse and worse.  In spite of all the energy expended, you’re now cold.  You’ve spent more time below the water than above it and the wetsuit doesn’t help much.  Tired and cold, if you’re a real surfer, you don’t give up.  Ultimately, you luck out, there’s a longer lull than normal and you make it out to a chorus of, “Man, you really got worked in there!”  And now you face the competition for waves. 


Maybe you get lucky.  Maybe your friends feel sorry for you and let you have one of the best waves of the day.  You drop to the bottom of the overhead wave and look upwards.  You aim your board at the feathering lip and feel the acceleration of you and your board as you rise upwards to meet it.  With perfect timing, your board and the wave meet and the falling water forces you back to the bottom.  You repeat this over and over.  It’s a dance.  You’re in perfect harmony.  You look down the line of the wave and you see a concave section ahead.  It’s already starting to pitch over.  You have a choice.  You could turn down and safely end your ride as the rest of the wave closes out ahead.  Instead, you go for it, crouching, then extending your body forward to add speed.  As you reach the edge of the concavity, you squat low and sure enough, you’re inside the wave with small window of light out ahead.  You hold on and pop out a few seconds later to imagined cheers from the beach.  Of course, no one saw it.  The guys in the lineup can’t see the front of the wave and are looking at the next ones in the set anyway.  It’s yours and only yours, and somehow even for just one perfect wave, the struggle and fatigue and stuffed sinuses were worth it.

Congratulations!  You've done it.  You built a successful startup and you've sold it.  Perhaps you have some ongoing obligations: transition, earn out, pay out over time, but you'll soon be financially comfortable or on your way to your next venture.  Now,  are you ready for the disappointment?

Virtually every entrepreneur I've known has ultimately been disappointed after selling their startups.  They go in to the sale optimistic for the future.  Their businesses or the associated technologies will live beyond them.  The demanding work that they and their teams have faced is coming to an end.   They'll have financial success.  They can finally get a life and spend time with their families. 

Sadly, the fact is that most entrepreneurs are disappointed in one way or another.  Here are some examples:

Of course not all startup sales are disappointments.

One entrepreneur sold his struggling business in an all stock deal for $5 per share, worth nearly $5 million to him after a 3 year earn out.  His new job as CTO of the acquiring division gave him control and he became wealthy as the stock rose to $55 per share.  He, too, left the industry, happy with what he knew was a very lucky break.  Had the acquisition delayed even a month, he would have been out of business.

Another sold her very small technology startup to a large company in an all-cash deal, turning her product over to the acquirer.  She walked away and became an Angel Investor, helping several successful startups. 

The reality is, when you sell your startup, you don't really know what's going to happen next.  The economy could change, political winds or industry competition could obviate the need for your technology, the new owners could make big management mistakes, or their companies could fail.  You need to be careful:

And most important: Lower your expectations.  You're selling your business.  You have to be prepared to let it go.  Otherwise, I guarantee you will be disappointed.

First Building Your Startup Post
Previous Post: When Should you Throw in the Towel?

Okay.  I'll try to keep this from being too much of a rant, but the truth is, I hate Daylight Savings time.  I hate it most here in the United States.  I may not like it much in other countries, but the US version makes no sense at all. 

Of course I know all the arguments in favor of Daylight Savings time.  It saves energy.  It helps tourism and leisure businesses as people stay out playing later.  It reduces car accidents during later commute hours.

But did you know that more people die of heart attacks, strokes, and car accidents in the days after a time change?  How about the fact that kids have to go to school in the dark, or that early commuters have more accidents.  Worse, here in the US, the 2007 change that took us out of step with most of the rest  of the modern world actually reduced the energy savings we had before. 

Daylight savings time has been around a long time.  Ben Franklin is often credited with the idea, but from what I've read, this was from an article joking that Parisians could benefit from getting up earlier.   It didn't get officially implemented until over a century later.  Most of modern Europe adopted it in 1916 and the US quickly followed suit, matching the times of year for turning your clock forward and back.  During World War II, the US went on War Time - Daylight Savings Time ran year-round. 

In the 1960's the US and most of the Europe coordinated their Daylight Savings time.  If you're going to have it, this makes sense. 

But then in 2007, the US decided to advance the change in the spring by 3 weeks and delay the return to Standard Time in the fall by a week.  I wasn't happy with the idea before, but this just seemed insane. 

First, it took us out of step with the rest of the world.  And of course it meant that more kids had to go to school in the dark for longer in the year.  The US Department of Energy conducted a study that showed this change had ZERO benefit, and subsequent studies proved that although a trivial amount of energy for light was conserved, there was a substantial increase in the demand for heating, far offsetting any potential benefit. 

I know, I'm biased.  I'm an early riser and like to be in the surf at sunrise.  I hate the fact that in March, I can't get in the water at 6am.  But what really gets me about Daylight Savings time is how illogically it's implemented. 

Let's think about this in terms of its goal - to take more advantage of daylight hours.  Sure, near the summer, particularly in northern latitudes, it makes sense.  Very few people get up at 4:30 in the morning, so why not make the sunrise 5:30am and give us more light in the evening.  I get it. 

But in Winter?  As far as I know, it's still winter. 

Look, if we're going to have Daylight Savings time, it should be symmetric with respect to the solstice.  The winter solstice is the shortest day of the year and the summer solstice is the longest day of the year.  Right now, we start Daylight Savings Time about 10 weeks after the winter solstice.  Europe starts 3 weeks later.  We end Daylight Savings Time about 6 weeks before the winter solstice.  This is crazy.  If it was too dark to start Daylight Savings less than 10 weeks from the darkest day, why would you wait to end it until 6 weeks before the darkest day? 

I heard one argument that the US extended the ending date to make it more light for kids on Halloween.  Who goes out trick or treating when it's light? 

Aside from the loss of early surf sessions and the confusion working with other countries caused by the inconsistent time changes in the US, the lack of any proven benefit to that 2007 change, and the studies that show it has actually caused harm, suggest to me that we should at least go back to the policy from before 2007, or better yet, revisit the whole idea of Daylight Savings Time.

Writing a novel is supposed to be creative and cathartic.  It's the ultimate expression of great stories through your ideas, emotions, and deep thoughts framed with human drama and moments of humor.  But getting from that first blank page to a work of 300 or more pages is intimidating, even if you've done it before.

When I started my first novel,  The Silicon Lathe, I knew I wanted to tell a semi-autobiographical tale of my life as a young entrepreneur starting out in the Silicon Valley.  After a long career filled with my experiences  of  innovation, creativity, and altruism confronting ambition, greed, manipulation, and downright evil, I knew I had more than enough material for a novel, probably several.  Wherever there's money to be made you will find the best and the worst in people. 

And I was lucky.  Since the novel is about the history of the Silicon Valley, I could just start at the beginning of my career and finish at the end.  To bring the proper context to the reader, I took the logical approach of opening each section with the year's global events.  It was easy to put together a simple outline for the book. 

When I wanted to add sections about extreme sports and juxtapose them with the challenges, successes and failures, all I had to do was insert them in the proper places. 

My second novel, Ethics (unpublished), was a cathartic book.  I started by writing the first and last chapters, then worked from back to front to fill in an outline.   I poured my heart into the novel  and often found myself writing long emotional diatribes.  My early readers pointed out that I'd gone a little far with most of these and suggested some trimming or perhaps more accurately, some serious clear cutting.  But with the outline, this clean up was easy to do and Ethics is arguably my best work to date. 

With The Shadow of God, an outline was essential.  This was my first foray into the mystery/psychological thriller genre.  Imagery was a key part to very subtle foreshadowing as were the clues that I dropped in each section.  As the San Francisco Book Reviewer said:

"Jackowski lays out the information in such a way that everything is in place long before you discover it. This is a very smart book, perfect for both readers who like to try to solve the crime before the characters do and readers who love to reread mysteries to see all the hints early on."

The outline enabled me to decide where to put the clues and even to move them around when I made organizational revisions.   Even better, when I was well into the book and wrote something that required corresponding changes earlier on, those places in the book were easier to find using the outline - certainly easier than searching for key words or reading for situations whose locations I couldn't quite remember months later. 

Unfortunately, in my latest novel, I decided to try to write it without an outline.  It hasn't gone well.  I've written sections to introduce each of the main characters, have set up several ominous situations, have laid down hints to start leading the reader astray, but the fact is, since I'm not sure where I'm going, it's kind of hard to bring the reader along.  I find that I have too many options.  I start down a path, then backtrack or second guess myself.  It has taken me far longer to get less than 25% done than it did to write an entire outlined novel.  I'm starting over with an outline and will refine it to a couple of levels before I start continue writing this book. 

What I've learned is that outlining is not just an organizational tool.  It forces you to think through your story and to make decisions so that when you're heads down, you know where you've got to get to.  Even better, when you hit a block on a particular subject or character, you can just decide to write a different section and come back to the difficult one when you're ready.  

Unlike a building, where you need to lay the foundation before getting into the heavy construction, as a writer, if you have an outline as your plan, you have the freedom to construct the story and then to come back to lay that foundation with clues and foreshadowing.  

For me, the outline is my safety net.  I won't write without one again.

Most of my posts on #startups have focused on how to avoid making mistakes that may lead to failure.  My first post, How to Build a Startup Company - Part 1,  asked some fundamental questions about your motivations when looking at undertaking a startup.  Subsequent posts tried to get you thinking about viability of your product or service, business planning, hiring the right people, and management skills. 

But the reality is that even if you do everything right, there's a chance that you'll fail.  Sometimes markets change.  The economy can turn.  An unexpected competitor may arise.  You or a critical team member may become seriously ill or have an accident.  There are countless disasters awaiting a new startup.  And many very successful entrepreneurs admit to having failed multiple times before finally achieving their dreams. 

You need to be prepared for possible failure.  If not, you could lose more than your business.

As I described in earlier posts, building a startup is not only hard on you, it's hard on your family and those around you.   You'll spend too much time away from your spouse and children.  You'll be interrupted at the worst times and often need to be available 24x7.  Relationships suffer, divorces frequently follow. 

It gets worse if you fail.  Your confidence will be shaken.  You may get depressed.  You could be even less available to those who care about you.  

But absolute disaster strikes when you've led  yourself and your family into financial ruin.  No more savings, no more retirement monies, no more equity in your home, you've raided your kids' college funds, you've run up credit card debt, have no income, no prospects for a job, and no funds to do another startup.  As ridiculous as it may sound, you could end up on the street.  I've seen it happen.  You can't let it go that far.

To use an overused boxing analogy, you need to know when to throw in the towel. 

So, how do you know when to give it up?

In an ideal scenario, you would make this part of your business plan.  Just as you set milestones for success, you should set checkpoints to assess possible failure.  You need to draw lines you won't cross.  These will be different for everyone depending on their financial and family situations. 

This may seem obvious, but when you're in the heat of it all, when you're fighting to keep your company alive, when you're sure that if you borrow from your retirement monies or take out an equity loan on your house, you'll be able to save your business, you usually won't see that you're about to go too far.   It's hard to step back and take an objective look when you're under live fire.  But you MUST do it.

If at all possible, have an uninvolved observer look at your situation regularly.  It could be your board of directors, a friend you trust.  It might be your spouse. 

In my lengthy career, I've seen many disastrous business failures that ruined peoples lives. But I decided to do this post now because of two recent startup failures.  The first involved a person with no family obligations.  Unfortunately, she didn't draw that line and ultimately burned through savings, retirement monies, and equity, losing her business and owing the government a lot of money.

The second involved someone with a family who originally promised to give his dream a year.  He had sufficient monies to keep it going that long and wanted to see if he could make a living out of what had always been a recreational passion. 

But at the end of a year, monies were not flowing in.  Many of his targeted milestones had not been achieved.  Could he really give up his fledgling startup after investing a year and getting others committed to his vision?   When he told me he was thinking of dipping into his retirement accounts, I sent him a list of questions about what he'd learned about himself and his business opportunity over the past year.  Fortunately, he did an honest assessment of his strengths and weaknesses and determined that at least for now, in the way he's approached it, he wasn't going to be able to support his family via his new venture anytime soon. 

He'll continue to try to build the business part-time, but he's not betting everything on something that's not ready to support his family.  He's now interviewing for positions that will enable him to make a good living.  This was a wise decision.

Don't get me wrong.  I'm not suggesting you plan for failure.  However, I think it's critical for you to establish limits on the risks you're going to take.  And somehow, you must find a way to objectively assess where you are and avoid a failure that could destroy not just your business, but your family and your life.  Don't let yourself believe that even though you've missed your goals, if you just put more money and time in, you can save your business. 

You're much smarter if you can walk away before disaster strikes and as the old saying goes, live to fight another day.

The translation of The Shadow of God is finally done - at least we're done with the first pass.  For those of you who may not have followed our progress on this effort, you might want to have a look at Translating My Novels and Another Translation Challenge: Shaggy Dog Stories.  These two posts discuss the approach that Peyo Amulet and I took and some of the initial challenges we encountered. 

Overall, it has taken about a year to get through our process.  Of course Peyo had other translation projects to work on so he wasn't on this full time.  Plus, our process allowed for a fair amount of down time.  Essentially, it went as follows:

Among the open issues we had were what to do with the Shaggy Dog Stories, final formatting of dialogue, and language.  Often Peyo would push for more formal/literary language, where I was pushing for more colloquial French, particularly with dialogue. 

For the Shaggy Dog Stories, we finally decided to translate them into French, then to add a footnote to explain the play on words in English.  I think this reads well. 

We got through the final 50 pages in October and began the somewhat arduous process of reassembling and reformatting the document.  It may seem like a minor issue, but in French, quotation marks are followed by a space.  Question marks, exclamation points, colons, and semi-colons are preceded by a space.  While MS Word inserts these for the French Language, the version of Word that Peyo used would line wrap them and sometimes we'd end up with a question mark, exclamation point, colon, etc.  alone on a line.  Or they'd split oddly across lines.  I finally figured out how to force Word to use non-breaking spaces with these characters and the document cleaned up nicely.

I forwarded the reassembled book to a French friend and she tore through it, finding countless typos and making a number of suggestions.  Peyo reviewed and incorporated these and today, I sent copies out to a well-known French author and to two friends who claim to be Monsieur and Madame Tout-le-Monde.  They wanted to be among the first to read the book. I've asked them to be brutally honest.  Specifically, I want to know:

With luck I'll have their comments back in a few weeks.  While waiting, I'm searching for someone who can redo the front and back cover to replace the English.  Then Peyo and I will make one more pass before seeking a French publisher.  We also need to create a French web page for The Shadow of God (now L'Ombre de Dieu) on this site or perhaps even create a French version of the entire site.  After all, if it goes well for L'Ombre de Dieu in France, I'll want to translate The Silicon Lathe, and Ethics (which I might actually publish there).  Clearly there's still a lot to do.

Wish us luck!

Hoping to accelerate the time to get his service business going live,  one of the entrepreneurs I'm working with recently asked me whether he should have developers build software, find a third party who could deliver something sooner, or find open source software that the developers could customize. 

Of course, I said it depends. 

Obviously it depends on cost versus the benefit of time to market, but there are other considerations including impact on your staff, your support plans, and perhaps most important, your exit strategy. 

Although most entrepreneurs are faced with this decision at some point and most have no problem making a good decision, I thought I'd jot down a few considerations just in case there's something you might not have thought of. 

Build it yourself

I must admit that in all of my companies, we built our own products.  This was largely because our initial products were 'under the covers' - inside operating systems and invisible to users.  At the time, there really weren't any off-the-shelf solutions that we could use as the basis for what we were building.  In fact, most of our products were these tools that others could use to build their products. 

This approach worked well for us for the following reasons:

Of course we had to pay for development and it took more time to get to market, but for us, this approach worked out well.

Using Open Source Software

In my last company, we moved from tools to end-user products and since we weren't the strongest in building beautiful user interfaces, we took advantage of publicly available open source software that was subject to the GNU public license (GPL).  This sped up our development substantially, and since we had a solid proprietary base, the addition of the open source code presented little risk to our products.  We kept the code modularly separate from our main code so we were able to avoid some of the more restrictive aspects of the GPL.  The main advantages to this approach were:

The way we handled it presented minimal risks, but there were disadvantages:

Because we were careful and knowledgeable in how we used the open source code, it worked to our advantage, advancing our time to market while preserving our control of the code, and presented only minor issues during our exit (acquisition).

Buying/licensing from a third party

Although we never bought components from a 3rd party to incorporate into our products, we were one of the third parties that sold components and tools to others to help them get to market quicker.  Our products were closed to the buyers.  That is, they bought functionality and we provided external interfaces.  We never supplied source code and they never needed it. 

From our perspective (and theirs since they paid us), buying from us had the following advantages:

• Very rapid time to market.
• A professional organization who guaranteed responsive support.
• No requirement to hire expertise they didn't have or want to have longer term.

As it turned out, well more than half of our customers were acquired by larger companies.  Because we had assignment clauses for our licenses with clear explanations of what that meant in terms of fees and rights, all of these deals went off without a hitch.  And of course, we were happy to welcome these much larger companies as our new customers. 

So, if you're faced with the choice of build it yourself, use open source, or buy from a third party, each can work:

Build it yourself if you have the expertise and can afford to take the time to debug before getting the product/service to market.

If you need quicker time to market and have some expertise in-house, try for open source.  Be sure to keep the open source separate from other components of your offering if at all possible and to follow the GPL rules about publishing.

If you need to get to market as soon as possible, and don't have a lot of expertise in development, consider licensing from a third party.  They can give you a leg up.  Ensure that you have solid enforceable agreements for customization and support, and that assignment clauses are clear and wouldn't scare off a potential acquirer.  Also, vigorously negotiate the license fees.  Most companies are more flexible than you might imagine and many are willing to 'invest' in new ventures for back-end payments upon success.  If possible, get source code/designs.  In the worst case, ask for an escrow in case the company should go out of business. 

But whether you make it yourself, get a leg up from open source, or license a product, ultimately the packaging and presentation is yours.  You're also the face on the support.  From the public's point of view, this is your product/service.  Own it!

Dare Brittany!  That's the motto that the tourist boards are promoting in Brittany, France.  And from our experiences there, we understand where they're coming from.  Brittany is unique.  It's more rugged.  The people are tougher.  Even the bread is heartier.

Like the Basques from our favorite region of France, the Bretons had a longstanding separatist movement and still maintain their own language.  Many of the road signs are in two languages.

While Quiberon is in Brittany and fascinated us with its varied coastline and nearby prehistory, I don't think we were quite prepared for Finistere.   It was much more stark than we had imagined - almost bleak.   I had heard a lot about La Torche, the surf break with its famous Ascenseur (Elevator) - a current that runs at up to 8 miles per hour and is great for propelling you back to the lineup but we really weren't expecting any waves as the surf forecast wasn't promising.  However, with our great introduction to Brittany in Quiberon, we had high hopes for this more remote area. 

Even the names of the towns seemed intriguing.  Lot's of 'P's and apostrophes in names like Penmarc'h, Pouldreuzic, Plozevet, and Pluguffan. 

We drove through craggy rolling hills, crossing rivers, and rounding the larger city of Quimper.  Suddenly the roads narrowed - all routes seemed to be single-laned.  There were fields but they all seemed to be fallow - nothing was planted - and it was the end of May!  We saw very few houses, just lots of open countryside.   Nothing really changed as we neared the coast and approached our hotel.  However, the architecture of the homes was quite different.  As we later learned, the homes were built for multiple families and their animals - to shelter them from the harsh winters.  Then, there it was - a completely incongruous building with neon lights - the Breiz Armor.  Although the hotel was nice in a Best Western sort of way, it seemed completely out of place on Penhors plage which is officially part of Pouldreuzic.  We decided to cancel our dinner reservations and to search the nearby towns for a more 'authentic' place to eat.   

Continuing on the small country roads, we found some charming villages and ultimately a good restaurant.  On our way back just after sunset, out in the middle of nowhere, we passed what looked like an ancient chapel.   In the dim light, we discovered that outside this chapel was one of the oldest and most famous calvaries -  large granite sculptures which depict the life of Christ - from before birth to crucifixion and the resurrection.  One of the most notable things which I found indicative of the attitude of 15th century Brittany (it was built about 1450), was a sculpture of Mary giving birth - breasts exposed.  I'm surprised this wasn't considered blasphemous but again, I think it bespeaks the practical, down-to-earth nature of the Bretons of the time.  It was getting dark and our pictures didn't turn out well, so the one at left was borrowed from the Wikepedia site. 

In the morning we got up and did a hike along the GR 34.  At over 1600 kilometers, this is one of the longest Grande Randonnees in Europe.  It was a cool drizzly morning and we made our way along the tortured rocky coastline to the north.  To the south there were miles of sand dunes.  Along the trail, there are signs about the area.  Many explain the harsh life of the Finistere Bretons, most of whom made their livings harvesting kelp, then submitting it to an arduous process to extract iodine for sale.  It was a meager living at best.  They also talked of shipwrecks - not from centuries ago, but from the 20th century.  While this group of Bretons knew the ocean, the rocky coast, radical tide changes, and severe weather cost many their lives.

After a bit more exploration of this bleak part of Finistere, we continued our trip  towards our next destination, Perros Guirec.  Along the way we passed though a spectacular national park of rocky cliffs and pine forests, then decided to stop for lunch in Morlaix, hometown to one of our French friends.   The town is built in a canyon carved out by a small river.  On the north end is a harbor which is inland from the coast.  We'll definitely return to do more exploration of Morlaix.

Arriving at our hotel in Perros Guirec, we were blown away.  The  Hotel Manoir du Sphinx is built into the side of a cliff that looks out onto the seven islands.  It sits half way between the two main areas of Perros Guirec - a harbor to the east and a long beach to the west.  We went for a walk to do some exploring and found the people very friendly - even more reminiscent of the Basque region where everyone you pass says hello.    We had an excellent meal in the hotel's restaurant and explored a bit more of the town afterwards.

The next day we did a hike towards the west on the GR 34.  This section of the Grande Randonnee features spectacular pink granite rock formations.  The trail itself follows the ancient Sentier des Douaniers - trail of the customs agents.  Along the trail there are small structures built of pink granite that are camouflaged among the rocks so that the custom agents could spy on smugglers. 

After several miles, we turned back passing through the village of Ploumanac'h, and then catching up to the GR 34 again.  There was some small crowded surf in the afternoon but I decided to pass.  That evening we had another fantastic dinner, this time at La Suite overlooking the beach in western Perros. 

For breakfast the next morning, we stopped at a artisanal bakery where we found some of the best bread we've eaten in France - and that's saying a lot!  We're big bread fans and the French with their 3-4 bakes a day supply some of the best, freshest bread in the world.  But I do love heavy breads like the black breads found in Germany and eastern Europe, so I really enjoyed the hearty fresh bread of Brittany.

In looking back at our quick trip up the west coast of France with our stops in Ile d'Oleron, Olonne-sur-mer, and Quiberon (which is part of Brittany), clearly Brittany wins out.  We felt at home there much as we do in the Basque Region.  Between the history (actually pre-history), the spectacular landscapes, the rugged ocean, the GR 34, and the interesting people, there's much to explore and experience.  Without a doubt, we'll be going back.

I've written a few blogs about les Trois Couronnes, one of the majestic peaks that dominate the Pays Basque in France.  I've also mentioned La Rhune, a higher peak to which many of the Basques attribute supernatural occurrences.  These two dominate the skyline to the south.  But there's one more that rises out of the ocean just below the border.  It's called Jaizkibel.  While we know quite a bit about the first two, we'd never hiked Jaizkibel.  It was a Saturday with rain forecast to come in about noon.  I had hoped to hike west of San Sebastian near the town of Itziar - an area called Itxaspe.  The cliffs are spectacular, the rock formations date from ancient periods, and to be honest, it appears there are some 'undiscovered' perfect point and reef breaks there if you're willing to descend the three hundred foot cliffs. 

But because of the forecast rain, Martine, our hiking partner, suggested we do Jaizkibel instead.   The mountain is a ridge that borders the ocean starting in the now-trendy Spanish town of Hondarribia.  The ocean side is rough with no roads and only trail access.  The inland side is a valley  With the Pyrenees (and Les Trois Couronnes) just a few miles to the south.  If you start at the lighthouse in Hondarribia, it's 22 km (14 miles) to Pasaia at the other end of the ridge.  Martine proposed we start about half way, at a ruined Parador, given the incoming weather. 

I didn't know anything about Paradors.  In our ten years together, Karen never mentioned that she had stayed in many when she lived in Spain.  Paradors are luxury hotels owned by the Spanish government which are located in old castles, monasteries, estates, and other exotic buildings.  They were built by the government to encourage the economies of out-of-the-way places.   I found a site with a map of the Spanish Paradors and clicked on several to get descriptions of the properties as well as things to do in the surrounding areas.  Karen and I will definitely be visiting a few of these (particularly in Galicia and out near the border with Portugal).

The Jaizkibel Parador was torn down in 1999 and all that's left are some stone structures and part of the foundation.  The views are spectacular.  On the south side, you see the valley with Irun below and the Pyrenees behind.  To the north,  the rugged cliffs below, and to the northeast, Hondarribia, Hendaye, and the coastline of southwest France.  On a clear day you can see much of the way to Bordeaux.  Unfortunately, it wasn't a clear day...

We started our hike with a descent of about 200' towards the ocean along a closed dirt road.  About a mile later after trying a small trail that led nowhere, we encountered the GR 121 - one of Europe's Grand Randonnees.  This is the 22 km trail I mentioned above.  It is a well-maintained, easy trail with gentle slopes.  We turned towards Pasaia and followed the trail into the mist as we climbed towards the peak of Jaizkibel.  Along the way we had views of the rugged, mostly inaccessible coast below us to the north and off to the west.  There were numerous trails that branched off the GR121 towards the ocean below, but given the impending weather we decided to save them for another day. 

During most of our hikes in the Pyrenees, we've encountered wild horses called Pottoks.  They are small and very tough-looking.  As we climbed, we encountered a group of horses, including a foal, but we weren't sure if they were wild or not.

We continued upward thorough a forested area crossed by numerous creeks but decided to bypass the trail that led to the tower-laden peak, choosing instead to follow the GR 121 along the top of the ridge. 

Three and a half miles into the hike, we decided to stop for lunch at one of the ruined lookout posts similar to the one near the Parador.  We set up our lunches and of course, it began to rain, hard.  We wolfed down as much as we could under the improvised shelter of our rain jackets and decided it might be a good idea to head back.  Fortunately, about a mile later, the rain eased up and we got a few sunny breaks.

We made our way back through a few sprinkles, but it was clear from the increasing winds that the main part of the storm was on its way.  It had been nice hike of about 7 miles round trip.  In addition to the impressive views, along the way, Martine pointed out a few things of note.  The first picture below is of a very small pinkish plant that is a carnivore.  It secretes a dew-like drop that attracts insects, but is so sticky that they can't escape.  Then the leaves enshroud them.  We were able to trigger the closing with pieces of grass. 

We also encountered some interesting rock formations with large hollows in them.  Martine explained that these volcanic rocks were formed with glass balls inside.  As the rocks erode, the balls become exposed, fall out, then eventually roll all the way to the ocean.

After our return, Martine send me a few pictures from one of her previous hikes on a much nicer day.  She had taken one of the lower trails from the lighthouse in Hondarribia.

As you can see, it's a remarkable area.  Most of it is inaccessible except by foot.  We're looking forward to another, longer hike at Jaizkibel starting at the lighthouse.  We'll be exploring many of the lower trails that lead into small protected coves. 

Although Les Trois Couronnes and La Rhune are still the most imposing peaks of the coastal Pays Basque, if you're in the area you should consider a hike at Jaizkibel too.

After our stops at Ile d'Oloron and Olonne-Sur-Mer, we finally reached our much anticipated Brittany.  We started with the Presqu'Ile de Quiberon.  'Presque' is the French word for 'almost', so the name literally means the almost island of Quiberon.  And it is an almost-island.  Quiberon is divided into two parts, Saint-Pierre-Quiberon and Presqu'ile de Quiberon.  The latter is separated from the mainland by a sliver-thin peninsula that is only about 70 feet wide.  Driving over this narrow stretch, it's hard to believe that with the radical tide changes in the area, the road isn't sometimes underwater making the Presqu'ile, a true island.   Still, the Presqu'ile feels like an island. 

As you can see from the satellite photo I borrowed from the Quiberon tourism website, it's about as close to an island as you can get.  With an area of less than 9 square kilometers (less than 3.5 square miles), you can walk around the entire  presqu'ile in about 4 hours on the sentier littoral which is part of the Grand Randonnee (GR) 34.  The differences you'll see are amazing.  On the mainland side, you'll find miles of sand dunes like we've seen along most of the west coast of France.  Not far down the west side is the Cote Sauvage,  a rugged rocky coastline with just a few small beaches.  As you enter the main part of the village of Quiberon near the end of the island, you find small harbors and points which block the swells from the rest of the island, and as you round the east and northeast side of the island, you find long stretches of pristine beaches and harbors with calm crystal clear water reminiscent of the Caribbean. 

Karen and I arrived in Quiberon mid-afternoon.  We were a couple hours early for our hotel check in but the staff was kind enough to show us to our spectacular ocean-view room.  They also recommended a restaurant called Les Viviers on the Cote Sauvage.    We drove over to the restaurant that stands alone on the cliffs, parked, and started walking the trail that runs along the cliffs for several miles, passing Menhirs, giant stones that date from about 5,000 BC.  At one point we saw a ruined chapel on the edge of the cliff and not far away was a section that was cordoned off.  It was an archeological site, a six thousand year old tomb. A sign indicated that most of the contents had been moved to the Prehistory Museum in Carnac, a few miles away. 

We had a superb dinner at Les Viviers, consisting of broiled clams as an appetizer, mussels for a main course, and very nice Muscadet from the Loire Valley.  Karen and I are mussel fans and these were the biggest mussels we've ever eaten.  It's not the shells that were unusual, it was hard to believe the meat fit inside the shells.  We walked a few more miles after dinner enjoying the memorable sunset.

The next morning we got up at first light and raced to Port Blanc on the Cote Sauvage to find some surf.  After a two hour session, we returned to the hotel for breakfast and then walked around the tip of the island to the east and north.  The points were lined with Cypress trees, and much of that part of the coast looked like Monterey and Pacific Grove.  As we went further east, we passed old forts and encountered new harbors and long stretches of those beaches I mentioned.  It was hard to believe how clear the water was - this was the North Atlantic Coast!

We were a bit reluctant to leave Quiberon and wanted to explore more but decided to make a stop at Carnac a few miles onto the mainland to have lunch and to check out the museum and the local Menhirs.  Karen and I are not big museum people but the Prehistory Museum in Carnac was fascinating, probably because it represented local history and prehistory starting 450,000 years ago.  In addition to the finds, it chronicled the changes in the land mass, the effects of the ice age  (which at one point froze the English Channel), and showed on maps where to go to see the original sites.  It explained the construction of the Dolmens, tombs dating back to 5,000 BC, and how the massive stones were placed on top - they filled the area with dirt, dragged the stones onto the dirt and then removed the dirt.  It also proposed numerous theories for the more than 4000 menhirs in the area and their unusual alignments. 

We left the museum and had a leisurely drive to our next stop, Finistere - land's end (or world's end) depending on your interpretation.  That is where we got a sense of how rugged Brittany can be.  Quiberon, even with its remarkable coastline was tame in comparison to what we'd see next. 

There's no question we'll be back to visit Quiberon and the surrounding area.  Between the beaches, the history, the great food and the surf, it's a place we want to take more time to explore.