What I Learned Today

I’m currently in Manchester, U.K., for the SKA Science and Engineering Meeting (SKA stands for Square-Kilometer Array, a huge next-generation radio telescope array that’s going to be built this generation). I arrived on Saturday around noon local time, after traveling 6,300 miles over about 13 hours (with a layover in Frankfurt in there). Manchester was wet and drizzly, but it was neat to see a place where spring has meaning: little yellow narcissus had sprung up in the park, and white and purple bulbs (crocus?) were just starting to peek out.

To beat jet lag, I needed to stay up until a reasonable bedtime. So I went exploring to the nearby Manchester Museum, which welcomed me to the city with a “Chocolate Big Saturday”. “Big Saturdays” are apparently a periodic event at the museum, and the lure of chocolate distracted me from thinking through what it meant to go to a museum on a Saturday… especially one advertising a chocolate fountain. That’s right, as soon as I stepped inside I was nearly mown down by shrieking children racing around the lobby. I browsed the people showing cacao beans and leaves and how chocolate is made into bars. I was most intrigued by the hand-held spectrometer (like a little pen with a flashing light coming out) that one docent was using to collect and display spectra from M&Ms. I was about to ask if they sold hand-held spectrometers in the gift shop when she commented that this one cost £1,000. I also learned that Smarties (the British version of M&Ms) use only natural dyes (derived from plants) which is why they seem a bit faded or pastel compared to the aggressively supernatural M&M dyes. There was a certain subtext conveyed about British candies being superior to American ones. :)

I then moved on to “The Evolutionist”, a special exhibit on Charles Darwin, complete with comic-book-like (but beautiful) storyboards interspersed with quotes from his writings — some delightfully poetic:

“When looking down from the highest crest of the Cordillera, the mind, undisturbed by minute details, was filled with the stupendous dimensions of the surrounding masses.”

and others rather self-aggrandizing (comments on his own phenomenal powers of observation :) ). The room was full of artifacts, like Darwin’s various collections, and a copy of Charles Lyell‘s “Principles of Geology” (they apparently were friends; Lyell asked Darwin to record the geology he observed in his voyage on the Beagle, which he did). Did you know that Charles Darwin and wife Emma had *ten* children (although two did not survive to adulthood)?

I then went upstairs and saw lots of stuffed animals, a massive sperm whale skeleton (with a very pointy beak!), and a cool historical display on bows and arrows. The museum has an impressive collection of Egypt-related items, including several (real) mummies (not just the coffins). There are thoughtful signs outside the gallery warning those who might not want to view human remains. I was curious, but had to admit that the skeleton with shreds of skin and tissue still on it was pretty creepy. Most of the mummies were almost entirely wrapped, but a few had blackened, shriveled feet sticking out. Finally, I visited the Vivarium, which has lots of live frogs, snakes, and lizards in comfortable habitats. There were also rocks (stromatolites!) and minerals, meteorites and dinosaurs. It was a great, information-filled experience.

I wrapped up the day with a fabulous meal at a local Indian restaurant (Al Bilal), located in the nearby “curry mile”. The food (samosas, garlic naan, saag paneer) was not only delightfully flavored, but seemed to all be made from scratch on the spot. Wow!

I have spent the past couple of days at the Mars Desert Research Station outside of Hanskville, UT, engaged in a simulated human mission to Mars. The pace has been hectic as we’ve worked to learn how the two-story Hab we live in operates, maintain all of its systems, keep ourselves alive on a limited selection of food, and also plan and execute our science goals. I’m learning new things every hour on the hour, and for the duration of the mission I’ll be posting to our crew blog rather than here. So feel free to follow us there — and enjoy the absolutely gorgeous photos we’re posting!

One of the challenges to be met and conquered during my upcoming mission to Mars is the limitation on showers. We have a very limited supply of water for our mission, just 39 gallons per day to support six crew members. We anticipate this supporting only one shower per day, so we’ll have to rotate through and wait six days between our individual showers. I don’t think I’ve gone more than three days between showers since reaching my teens, and those gaps have been few and far between (camping trips). The crew briefing documents recommend bringing baby wipes to facilitate sponge baths between showers. But now I’m stuck wondering: what about my hair?

It’s not the appearance that I’m particularly worried about, and my hair is actually rather short, which probably makes this easier than it would be otherwise. It’s just that I’ve observed that going even 1.5 days between showers leaves my hair greasy enough (to me) that I don’t want it touching me. I don’t like the hair oil smell. (Does this mean I’m over-civilized? Or is it true that daily showers make your hair produce more grease than “normal”?) I have no idea, but eventually I confessed my worries to my hairdresser and asked her advice.

“Take a dry shampoo with you,” she said.

A dry shampoo? What? I’d never heard of such a thing. It turns out that dry shampoos are powdered substances that perform the same function as the liquid shampoo you’re currently using: they bond to the sebum (oils) in your hair, and can then be brushed out, carrying the oil (and any dirt or other particles stuck to the oil) away. The efficacy is generally lower than that of a wet shampoo (probably due to easier distribution and bonding in liquid form), but apparently still can provide a good between-shower cleaning. Just the ticket for a restricted water environment!

The dry shampoos available commercially seem to be rather expensive ($20-25), but the web is teeming with advice about making your own from corn meal or cornstarch or salt or clay or what have you (plus baking powder, to absorb odors). I think it’s worth a test run prior to the mission. If it works, I’ll be set! Nothing like low tech solutions to save the high-tech day.

Traveling holds such a tingling allure, rising up out of the promise of new views, new experiences, and exploring into your personal unknown. I’ve previously written about the concept of vagabonding, an extreme form of travel that involves really living in some new world, not just visiting it, and often for extended periods of time. An isolated page in Vagabonding (by Ralph Potts), titled “The Pioneering Women of Vagabonding,” listed 14 women vagabonders, only one of whom I recognized. Neither did this book provide any information about them—which I took as an opportunity to do a little fun research on who these women were. Here are summaries of and excerpts from the first four on the list:

• Mary Wollstonecraft (1759-1797) was an accomplished author, philosopher, and feminist. In 1796, she published Letters Written in Sweden, Norway, and Denmark, based on a trip she undertook with her infant daughter, Fanny, to address business negotiations for Fanny’s father, Gilbert Imlay. Truly a courageous vagabonding experience, if ever there were one! An excerpt from one of her letters:
  

  “The cow’s bell has ceased to tinkle the herd to rest; they have all paced across the heath. Is not this the witching time of night? The waters murmur, and fall with more than mortal music, and spirits of peace walk abroad to calm the agitated breast. Eternity is in these moments. Worldly cares melt into the airy stuff that dreams are made of, and reveries, mild and enchanting as the first hopes of love or the recollection of lost enjoyment, carry the hapless wight into futurity, who in bustling life has vainly strove to throw off the grief which lies heavy at the heart. Good night!”

  She later married William Godwin, who among other things was drawn to her because of this same book. They also had a child together: Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin (later Mary Shelley), who wrote Frankenstein.

• Isabella L. Bird (1831-1904) is already a great favorite of mine; I’ve very much enjoyed her stories of traveling through Japan (Unbeaten Tracks in Japan, 1880) and Colorado (A Lady’s Life in the Rocky Mountains, 1879). Born in England, she wrote about visits to America, Hawaii, Australia, Japan, Malaysia, Sinai, Persia, Kurdistan, Tibet, Korea, and Morocco. (Really, is there anything beyond her?) She is eloquent, fearless, curious, polite, adventuresome, and successful, and her descriptions of the scenery in which she finds herself are unfailingly, soaringly poetic. You can listen to two of her books read aloud: A Lady’s Life in the Rocky Mountains (delightful!) and The Englishwoman in America (I haven’t read this one yet). She also offers a description of evening:
  

  “The sinking sun is out of sight behind the western Sierras, and all the pine-hung promontories on this side of the water are rich indigo, just reddened with lake, deepening here and there into Tyrian purple. The peaks above, which still catch the sun, are bright rose-red, and all the mountains on the other side are pink; and pink, too, are the far-off summits on which the snow-drifts rest. Indigo, red, and orange tints stain the still water, which lies solemn and dark against the shore, under the shadow of stately pines. An hour later, and a moon nearly full—not a pale, flat disc, but a radiant sphere—has wheeled up into the flushed sky. The sunset has passed through every stage of beauty, through every glory of color, through riot and triumph, through pathos and tenderness, into a long, dreamy, painless rest, succeeded by the profound solemnity of the moonlight, and a stillness broken only by the night cries of beasts in the aromatic forests.”

• Alexandra David-Neel (1868-1969) was born in France, but by age 18 had embarked on solo adventures in England, Switzerland, and Spain. She later traveled to India, Tunisia, China, Japan, and others, but seems to have been most drawn to Tibet (and Buddhism). She first crossed into Tibet in 1916, was discovered and sent away, and then re-infiltrated the country in 1924, disguised, for two months.
• Mary Kingsley (1862-1900) found the opportunity to vagabond in Africa only after both her parents died, freeing her from caring for her invalid mother in England. She collected fish, studied cannibals, and climbed Mt. Cameroon (an active volcano more than 13,000 feet tall). Her Travels in West Africa is available for reading online. She begins with:
  

  “I succumbed to the charm of the [Gold] Coast as soon as I left Sierra Leone on my first voyage out, and I saw more than enough during that voyage to make me recognise that there was any amount of work for me worth doing down there. So I warned the Coast I was coming back again and the Coast did not believe me; and on my return to it a second time displayed a genuine surprise, and formed an even higher opinion of my folly than it had formed on our first acquaintance, which is saying a good deal.”

Reading their writings, it’s hard not to feel the pull to follow in these women’s footsteps, and enter one’s own foreign lands, wherever they may be.

Recently, I was lucky enough to take the Coast Starlight all the way from Los Angeles to Klamath Falls, Oregon. Because this is an overnight trip (leave at 10:15 a.m., arrive at 8:20 a.m.), I booked a “deluxe roomette” in one of the sleeping cars. From Amtrak’s website:

Sleeping Car passengers can experience a full range of exclusive services and amenities on the Coast Starlight, including an exciting alternative meal service available in the Parlour Car. Each Sleeping Car passenger will receive complimentary meals (with the exception of alcohol) in the Dining Car or the Parlour Car, a special Welcome Gift and a Personal Amenities kit that includes shampoo, soaps and lotions. A daily tasting of local wines and artisan cheeses is available for a nominal fee in the refurbished Pacific Parlor Car. This “living room on rails” is the perfect place for Sleeping Car passengers to relax, celebrate or socialize. With a specialty coffee bar, onboard theater and alternative dining venue, the Pacific Parlour Car will make your Coast Starlight experience unforgettable.

The Pacific Parlour Car was indeed fine, with comfortable swiveling armchairs and a nice atmosphere. I ended up not spending much time there, though, because a) it was freezing cold (over-air-conditioned) and b) the view from the regular Observation/Lounge car was better (bigger windows). The menus in the Parlour Car were also more limited, so I chose to eat in the Dining Car. I did go downstairs to check out the theater on the lower level of the Parlour Car—they were showing Harry Potter 5. This was timed to be able to occupy kids while the parents attended the wine tasting (which I also skipped, in favor of lazily reading and knitting while enjoying the view outside of my roomette).

My Superliner Roomette was just as advertised, including linens, towels, turn-down service, bottled water, electrical outlet, etc.—and you can control your own speaker volume! This means that you can turn the train announcements on or off at will. How thoughtful! The soundproofing was also impressive; the train whistle sounded frequently, every few minutes, but I could barely hear it through the double-paned windows. Apparently the roomettes themselves are also specially constructed so as not to share walls with adjoining roomettes. Whatever the reason, I was never interrupted or disturbed by any noise from the other passengers.

The one limitation arose when trying to shower in the morning. The regular sleeping cars have only one shower per car, which can hold about 40 people. A good fraction of those all want to shower about the same time in the morning. My car was actually a “transition” car (which I infer meant that it held both passengers and crew) and had at least two showers (possibly three), one of which most people didn’t seem to know about, so I was able to get my shower. If I did it again, I’d shower in the evening and escape the morning rush.

All meals are included in the sleeping car add-on to the regular fare (about $250 for Los Angeles to Klamath Falls). I found the meals to be acceptable, but nothing to rave about; I don’t think there are any actual cooking facilities on the train, just microwaves. I had a veggie burger for lunch, crab cakes for dinner, and french toast for breakfast.

The trip itself was hands-down spectacular. This kind of travel just cannot be matched in terms of scenery and relaxation. Every turn reveals new sights (the coast, the valley, the mountains, the trees), and being on the train for that long feels a little like stepping away from the world for a bit. You have nowhere to go, no responsibilities to execute; someone else is driving, and you’re just along for the ride. You sit back and let the miles roll by, in perfect comfort, and yet unconfined; you can exercise your legs whenever you feel like it. I fell asleep watching the nearly-full moon float above, and woke to earliest dawn amid pines and snowy Mt. Shasta.

I did also find, as others have reported, that the social experience is like no other (neither planes nor cars); everyone seemed open, expansive, and friendly. In the dining car, you are regularly seated with new strangers at each meal, whom you get the chance to meet over your microwaved sustenance. No one is in a hurry, and everyone has an interesting story to tell about how they ended up on the train. I talked to two sisters who were going to meet a brother and his family, a man on his way home (to Ohio!) from a Baptist convention, and a couple headed for a blues festival in Portland.

I’m definitely sold, and already eager for another excuse to take the train… somewhere… anywhere!