Category Archives: outdoors

Why are smaller targets easier to hit?

I’ve been thinking today about a very ‘open’ project or goal with multiple paths to success can be harder to achieve (or get started on) than a more constrained project (a smaller target, if you will).

If anything is possible, deciding which way to proceed can involve interminable agonising.

I thought of this problem in relation to our recent cycle journey, where some of our toughest moments have been when we’ve had to um and ah over near-identical options. And often, having enough resources (time, money, information, energy) to take any course has made deciding that bit harder. If we’d been working to a tight schedule, or had a very fixed daily mileage, some decisions would have been much easier. But of course our trip would have been very different then – most probably, a lot less enjoyable.

So often, having a limited range of options is a vital heuristic. Cutting down the list of possible actions is a crucial step in greasing the slope and getting on with it.

A particular problem I’ve been aware of recently is that of having too much information. This is an ever-present danger with mobile internet. One could spend days trawling Google for yet more angles or the vicarious experiences of forum posters and reviewers. This approach can seem safer than plunging in, but it can be very paralysing, and not terribly enlightening after all. Sometimes you have to find your own route up the mountain.

Though this thinking bubbled up in relation to a recent outdoor adventure, it is equally applicable to my other interests – philosophical enquiry and design. In both these cases, some limitations are needed before the problem-solving can begin. Some of my best design work has grown out of very restrictive briefs. And there’s nothing like a clearly-phrased thesis to generate a solid philosophical argument.

So next time you’re stumped, why not take some options off the table? Or at least, set a strict time limit for your option-gathering phase. It might make your target smaller, but it gives you something to aim at.

The Fitzgerald Freewheel draws closer…

For some time, R and I have planned to take a ‘grown up gap year’. For a long time it’s been a vague dream, an adventurous year away from work and a chance to transition away from London.

This January, we crystallised our plans. We’re selling our boat ‘Jessie’, and hope to start a three-month tandem cycle trip to Istanbul in September. When we return to the UK, we plan to voyage the British canal network for six months or so. Things are rather open-ended after that, but I am planning to start an MPhil in philosophy in October 2011.

It’s a strange time at the moment.

Right now, we’re painting and sprucing our boat, taking a few viewings in the hope that we find the right buyer soon. It’s a funny kind of limbo; we are both still working full-time, and it seems like we have a myriad of practical obstacles to tackle before we turn our wheels towards Istanbul. And yet we’ve set the wheels in motion – colleagues at work all know what we’re planning.

Occasionally on my cycle to work I try imagine what it’ll be like on that day when we totally shift gears, moving from a busy London life to nothing in the diary for three months. On other days it all seems unachievable. What if we don’t get a buyer for our boat? What if the sale takes too long and we can’t cross the Alps before the snow? What if I don’t do well enough in my philosophy exams?

I know in my heart that a big  part of what we want with our ‘gap year’ is freedom from obligation and stress. I know that whatever specific shape things take, we’re guaranteed adventure and change. In one sense, we just can’t imagine what the trip will be like. I just need to be patient and wait for that first morning of the big cycle, whenever it comes.

My ten favourite pieces of product design #5: bicycle

I think this is perhaps my favourite ever piece of product design. The bicycle as we know it emerged at the end of the 19th / beginning of the 20th century, looking something like this:

safety.jpg

And it hasn’t changed very much since then…

I love the bike’s simplicity, efficiency and elegance. It gets me where I need to be in a reasonable time with no more faff or hassle than needed. I currently ride a Farrhad Manufaktur, like this one:

Obviously, my isn’t nearly as clean as this 😉

It’s a little on the heavy side, but is very low maintenance and the mudguards mean I don’t get splattered en route to work, even if it’s raining.

The only downside of owning a bike in London is that they can get stolen every once in a while, which is very annoying indeed.

My ten favourite pieces of product design #6: yellow oilskin

I’ve attracted some mockery for this one, but I believe a true design classic is the hardwearing yellow oilskin. I’ve seen so many lightweight nylon/goretex waterproofs expire after a couple of years, I deided to go back to basics;

Basic, heavy and durable

Basic, heavy and durable

It is about as featureless as a jacket can be, but does the basic stuff well- keeping the rain out. Its only downside is its extreme weight, and the ‘Norwegian Fisherman’ comments some of my snootier friends and family make. This particular jacket actually saved my elbow from a scrape during my recent bike slip- a lesser waterproof, I am sure, would have ripped quite badly!

By the time I am 30…

…I will have walked the Cuillin Ridge, and/or the Haute Route

Sunny cycling in Norfolk

A great day’s cycling in Norfolk, tired legs amply rewarded with tea and cake…

Climbing in’t Lakes…

Just spent the weekend climbing in the Lakes. We did two long routes on the Napes. A great day, no ‘faff’ and lots of sunshine.

I’m very new to climbing, so rely on kind folks like Rick to lead and make sure I don’t do anything silly (like falling off). Before I started climbing, I had thought that it would be really strenuous. In fact, it’s probably much more mental than physical- particularly on long routes, where a lot of thinking and checking is needed what with setting up belays and so on.

It’s also interesting to think about the level of risk involved. Of course an unprotected fall would be very, very serious. However, any climber worth their salt will make sure that if a fall is likely, the protection in place is rock solid. Climbing culture is full of ritual and talk about staying safe: “climb when ready!”, ‘bomber protection’ etc. So in a way, although by climbing you’re entering a risky environment, at any given point you have a lot of choice about how exposed you are to risk.

Climbers are also a great bumch to hang out with. All that time scrabbling round on crags seems to give them a very sharp sense of humour. Climbing routes have very evocative names, like one called ‘Balls like spacehoppers’.

Big thanks to Rick, Gemma and Paul for taking on a climbing newbie and giving me such a great day!

See photos on flickr!

Food and the outdoors

Why is food always better in the outdoors, especially after hard work? Some of my top culinary moments have been the simplest things, enhanced by ‘honest appetite”: