Jonny the Jalopy--on a stick

A few of you will understand where I got that name...

So driving stick is fun. :) Mind you, it's also a pain, but today's experience wasn't too bad.

Before my first lesson earlier this year I made sure to get my dad to explain the clutch to me. No, not just what "in" and "out" mean (which are actually highly variable), but blast it, give me a mechanical drawing, principles of operation, potential quirks due to emergent behaviors of a simple system...a basic understanding of the beast. That had been the most intimidating part. After a session with my dad, a chalkboard, and some dumb ;) questions, I thought I had it. At least kind of. (Turns out the transmission has some black magic of its own: synchros.)

My first time behind the wheel of a stick was interesting. I learned a lot but didn't go very far.

Last driving practice on a manual was a bit rough. I killed it once, had a nasty bucking session (match power feed with the time constant of the flywheel mass and clutch spring constant and voila: you're sitting on a driven oscillator), and putted around the neighborhood for about 5 or 10 min. before both my instructor (Mom or brother; don't recall) were too fed up with the process and I jerkily settled the car in the driveway. This session was important, but I butted up against the session restriction: no "high" (read: 3rd or higher) gears until you master starting and stopping. You Will Master The Clutch And First Gear Or You Will Not Do Anything Cool. 'Master,' mind you, not 'get passing good with.'

Thus started today. My dad and I decided to go to the temple. We then decided to take the stick. I hadn't 'mastered' starting, let alone passing the 'sit stationary pointed uphill using just the gas and clutch to stay put' test my mom required of my younger brother before letting him hit the highway, so I figured I'd be the passenger.

"You wanna drive?" Dad asked?

"Um, sure, but we'll have to hit a driveway and..." So I explained.

"Ok. Sounds good." His response was nice; I'd get some practice in. :D

I wandered through back roads leading to the latest possible highway entrance, only managing to buck significantly once and kill it once. "Par with the last session. Stop while you're ahead, K?" I thought to myself. Well, about halfway through the leg of the trip prior to the highway, I've been up to fourth gear and started and stopped a few times without much trouble, So, methinks, I'm doing alright."

About now Dad springs on me the idea that highway driving isn't much different. Just get into 5th gear, handle the throttle differently, and you're good. If you're comfortable with open freeway driving in an automatic then driving a stick isn't much different.

He was right.

Aside from downshifting during on ramps, using the engine to brake, and some other tricks you pick up on the smaller roads, it was. I made it to the temple and back (about 20 min.) safely. While I do still have some work to do on my starting, all the time in higher gears and actually moving gave me a lot more confidence so that I could talk shop with my dad as he described how to improve. (That's where the driven oscillator conversation happened. Turns out the idea is to pick a different point to start feeling for the catching sensation or use a different initial motor speed.) I even started to make superfluous complete stops so that I could start implementing the changes. While I do still have some work to do on my starting, all the time in higher gears and actually moving gave me a lot more confidence in my ability to drive a stick. This, in turn, made refining my skills a much more pleasant and much less nerve-wracking experience.

Eat that, last driving session.

Happy Final Exit

That sounds incredibly deep and of great import.

It's not.

It's just that I was afraid of my Mathematical Proofs class final, as I hadn't done any homework the last two weeks of class and we covered a topic that still kinda confuses me--delta epsilon proofs. I crammed for an hour prior. It seemed hopeless; I'd done well on previous tests, but the sheer volume of material and the emphasis on this last concept worried me. I forced myself to complete a d-e proof end-to-end. It was a simple one for a wee little linear function.

Lo and behold, as promised by the professor, it was on the test. Only it was a quadratic this time. After some finagling and tweaking, I found a workable delta. I even had time to double check it. All the other proofs weren't terribly worrisome either: even the inductive proof was straight induction and algebra.

I says to me, "Self, you oughta be proud of yourself. You did great. You had an answer for every question; one that felt right, even!" "Well," says I, "pride is dumb. I'll be humbled in a minute here when I see my multiple-choice score. Some of those were tricky and I'm not the best at details." "Well, self, you'll see."

Down the stairs, out the door. Pause, assess high-load layout and traffic patterns, shuffle over and look at the score monitor.

"You? 100%"

W000000000000000000T!

Hoorah!

Erm, :D

Who do I tell?

Meh. Nobody.

I could blog about it...

Happy happy happy happy happy happy happy happy happy happy happy happy happy happy happy happy happy happy happy happy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1!!!!one!!!!!!!!!

Eat that final final from the semester of internal pwnage and panzerfication! I can prove stuff!

Now you've shared in that happy moment. :D