I did a really stupid thing. A non-smooth move, a moronic, dumb-ass, unthinking, I-can't-believe-I-just-did-that sort of stupid thing. After changing the strings on a Strat, I managed to put the un-clipped high E string right straight into my right eye. Pretty much in the middle of the cornea, so things got blurry quickly; luckily it turns out eyeballs heal up fairly fast, and after only a couple of days I was back to full eyesight.
That was back in June, and I thought I'd gotten lucky, congratulated myself on being healthy enough to heal up and move on, and promptly forgot about it. Sometimes life isn't quite so simple, however, and one day in mid August I started feeling a slight discomfort under the right eyelid. Thought it was an eyelash stuck in there, or some giant clump of pollen or something, rinsed it out in the shower, and hoped for the best. It didn't go away, though - the discomfort turned into a pain, my vision started getting blurry again, and within three days I'd lost sight in that eye.
Went to the urgent care place, who sent me to the hospital emergency room, which was an experience in itself: sitting there for a few hours surrounded by people in a lot worse shape than I was. Some of them were moaning and groaning, rather loudly, or making quiet sounds of despair; others coughing and wheezing and hacking out what seemed like copious amounts of who the heck knows what sorts of contagions into the shared airspace. I was feeling faint and thought I was going to pass out, until I realized that I was unconsciously holding my breath.
As it turned out, the area around the spot in my eye where the guitar string poked in had gotten infected; why it took months to take hold remains a mystery. Samples, or what felt like huge chunks of that eye, were taken away for cultures, and within short order I was pouring mass quantities of various medications into the affected eye at regular intervals throughout the day, plus a steroid to counteract the irritation caused by the meds. Exactly what sort of an infection it was also remained a mystery, since all the cultures returned negative; what wasn't a mystery, however, is what those cultures ended up costing. After a couple weeks things got better, and after a month it was all okay enough; although the vision in the one eye probably won't be as good as it once was, but hey, I'll take slightly fuzzy over zero any day.
I had to give the blog a rest for a good long while - even with the brightness turned way down it was still painful to stare into the computer screen for longer than a few seconds. It was high summer, I got involved with other things, had some visitors staying at the house, bought a canoe and went paddling, built up and rode a couple of bikes, messed around in the back yard, played some music, and kind of got out of the blogging habit. Maybe just writing about this experience will help out with nudging myself back to sitting here clacking the keys, while looking out this big window at the Sweet Gum and Pin Oak's leaves in changing fall color, with squirrels and chickadees and jays moving through the branches - all of which I'm glad to see.
This is my first blog post without a picture at the top - up to this point every photo here has been either taken by me, or by good friends. It felt weird taking a shot of my own eye, so I went looking for images on the net of eyes to use, but most all of them were either too cartoony cute, or just plain gruesome and/or creepy, or in bad taste in other ways. Thought about having a photo of the late great Marty Feldman and his famous eyes, but no. Thought of calling this post "Damn My Eyes", but also no.
They say that any sort of adversity can be a character building event, even something as trivial and non life threatening as losing a bit of eyesight; I don't know about that. In the grand scheme of things (if a scheme there be, at all), what happened to me is relatively minor - I think about all those others in the hospital waiting room who really seemed to be in genuine distress, while I was nonchalantly reading a book, albeit with one eye closed. And holding my breath.
Even in my relatively boring, uneventful lifetime, I've been pretty darn close to death a couple of times - I'll tell you some stories sometime - and something like this event is almost nothing compared to that. It truly is better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick.
Traffic Calming Devices
Here's a great word: Eu·phe·mism (ˈyo͞ofəˌmizəm): A generally mild or innocuous word or expression used in place of one that may be found offensive or suggest something unpleasant.
The picture above shows something that traffic control engineers euphemistically call a "Traffic Calming Device"; it's a section of concrete extending way out into the street at the end of a city block, creating a very narrow entrance to the roadway ahead, that you have to carefully steer around. And if you, The Traffic, are being your usual boisterous, rowdy self, you had better calm yourself the heck down, and mighty quickly, or else Really Bad Things will happen.
Now here's where that mild, innocuous expression - traffic calming device - suggests something unpleasant or offensive: if your car hits this barrier at even a moderate speed like 25 mph (40 kph), it will totally wreck the front suspension. Irreparable damage that will make your insurance company total out your car, and good luck getting anything close to its replacement value back from those people.
If you have a nice low-slung sports car, imagine the engine and transmission staying put while the rest of the car keeps on going while you're still sitting in it - just like Wile E. Coyote. Go any faster, and you may become airborne, do a forward somersault, and probably land on your head. Which also sounds like something from a cartoon, but I've actually witnessed that happening to someone else, and it's not pretty, or funny, in real life.
Meet one of these on a dark or foggy night while riding a bike, and you'll most likely go over the bars and do a face plant on the pavement for sure. It all sounds rather harsh, but then again the general idea seems to be that if you're careless or unobservant or speeding, or all of the above, then you need to be taught a lesson that you'll never forget, even after you're dead. It's like instant punishment, but without having to get the police or the courts involved - a genius concept, really.
There's a brew pub catering to the college crowd a block north of this particular traffic calmer; probably no connection between the two, since the bar just opened up recently, and this barrier has been in place for awhile. What may not be a coincidence, is that there's a number of drinking establishments and breweries in this university town, and a lot of traffic calming devices.
Where I live, most of these cleverly designed traffic-control practical jokes aren't marked with bright paint or reflective markers, there's no prior warning signs beforehand, and they're almost impossible to see in a nighttime torrential downpour, and this is rain country. Amazingly, after all this time living here, I haven't run into one. Not yet, anyway. It's the weekend, I'm running low on micro-brews; time to head down to the Jiffy Market.
Gazelle Crossframe Cyclocross, Part 2
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| Gazelle at Bluff Cove, Palos Verdes Peninsula |
"I took the Gazelle for an early morning ride out on the Palos Verdes Peninsula, one of the most beautiful cycling areas in the world. Lots of hills if you want, awesome views, and little traffic if you leave at the crack of dawn. I wanted to put in a good ride in Palos Verdes to add what are to me relevant thoughts about the handling, climbing, and general mojo factor, which are admittedly subjective evaluations, but I know what I like and don't like in a bike.
The 32 mm cross tubulars felt great in the dicey part of Portuguese Bend where the road is slowly shifting out to sea. Not as much cush as a wider high quality 650b tire but I felt totally secure. I won't ride any tire less than 28 mm up the coast anymore but most people out there on their carbon wonder machines are running 23s - I did for several decades. When standing up to sprint on a short incline the bike felt light on its feet, which is appreciated by a low wattage lightweight such as myself. The file tread of the cross tires is a little slower coasting but I am in no rush to get anywhere. I don't ride nearly as fast as I did when I was younger but I like a bike that feels like it surges forward when accelerating and in this regard the Gazelle shines. And of course visually a skinny tubed 80's cyclocross bike does look pretty cool.
Now for some more technical stuff for those inclined for such details:
The front derailleur cable routing goes along the top tube, then down the seat tube, and back up around a Sturmey Archer pulley to the derailleur. A clever re-purposing of a part originally designed for an English 3-speed, and added to a Dutch race bike:
Click or tap on any photo in this post for a higher definition (larger) image
The main triangle of the frame, which is made of the previously mentioned Reynolds 753, is an odd mix of metric tubing for the top tube and seat tube (26 mm and 28 mm) and regular, English-sized tubing for the down tube (28.6 mm, which is 1 1/8"). The lugs are Bocama Professional long point and it has a Cinelli bottom bracket shell.
A little history on Reynolds 753 might be in order if anyone cares. In the '70s Reynolds, maker of the famous and ubiquitous 531 tubeset used for decades by countless European pros decided to come out with a lighter set of tubing for competition. Using the same basic Manganese Moly steel alloy, it was heat treated for extra strength. The extra strength meant it could be drawn with thinner, lighter walls, to save a whopping 4 to 8 ounces over a comparable 531 frame. Not only is that not much weight savings, but there were also some added complications when building with 753.
Being heat treated, 753 tubes had to be low temperature silver brazed as opposed to the more common high temperature brass brazing, so as not to lose the temper of the steel and lose strength. The tubing also did not like to be bent too much or it would buckle so the frame had to be built with great care with regards to alignment, as it could not be cold set (cold setting refers to basically bending and manhandling a frame into alignment after it was brazed). Reynolds would only provide the tubeset to someone who was certified to build using 753. The certification process entailed Reynolds sending a set of tubes and lugs to a builder who would braze up the tubes and send it back to Reynolds for inspection.
This particular frame was likely built by Dutch 753 certified builder Jan Legrand who built frames for the 80's Dutch TI Raleigh professional team as well as 753 frames for Gazelle Nowdays there are modern steel alloys that can withstand heat (and actually get stronger when heated) that can have even thinner, lighter walls, and be TIG welded. Most of them have larger diameters that to my eye do not look properly proportioned in smaller fame sizes. They are also a bit stiffer which is a personal preference for some, but not mine.
I am not sure if the Gazelle is a keeper just yet; it is kind of redundant for me as far as bikes go, since there isn't anything it can do that my Lyon doesn't do better I'm actually thinking about having a rotating "guest bike" - something not part of the permanent collection, that I can put together and ride for 6-12 months or so and then take apart and store away, and then reintroduce something else from the past.
And regarding tubular tires, they are also known as "sewups", as many people (myself included) call them, especially in the US. "Tubular" is the more correct term so that is what I used here. They can be a little more work to install and a massive bummer if you get a flat early in their life, which fortunately does not happen too often, but they have a superior road feel over a comparably sized clincher. And they generally cost more but there are some very expensive high end clinchers out there now that arguably rival tubulars. The Pacenti 650b clincher tires I am using (sadly no longer made but there are some comparable and more expensive alternatives available) I would rate up there with a good sewup. And fatter, which is a huge plus. I have found that 650b tires (and wider tires in general) are no magic bullet, though - you still need to get high quality, supple, lightweight ones for their advantages to really be felt."
Thanks, Jonsan, for a great guest blog post, and maybe we can talk you into doing another soon!
To view the first post about this Gazelle, click here.
Gazelle Crossframe Cyclocross, Part 1
My brother Jonsan has always had some cool and interesting bicycles, including the very first fixed gear bike I'd ever seen, a mid-80s Schwinn Madison (which now lives in my garage, and sometimes roams the streets of Eugene). He'll find a rare and/or beautiful frame and then build it up with top quality components, and every once in a while he sends me photos of his incredible creations. I've asked him to do a couple guest blog posts about his latest project, a Gazelle "Crossframe" cyclocross bike (for part 2, click here):
"A couple of years back I started to recognize the benefits of tires wider than the 23 mm I had ridden for decades. I tried a touring bike, a fairly highly regarded one (Specialized Expedition), and it was yuck. I think the thicker walled tubing touring bikes have for carrying loads makes the bike feel sluggish when ridden unloaded.
I wanted something a little racier, but vintage-y, so I started looking for a vintage cyclocross bike. Cyclocross bikes are all the rage now and easy to find but in the 70's and 80's they were pretty much unknown in this country except for a few brought in for a very small core of 'cross riders. The easiest ones to find (and still not that easy) were the Italian ALAN aluminum ones. I found one and was pretty stoked about it, but after I built it up and went for a few rides it also had to go. With powerful cantilever brakes, the aluminum fork would flex like crazy when braking hard, so much so that I was afraid it would eventually snap. You could literally see the fork blades flex back an inch when coming to a quick stop. I sold the ALAN and started looking. And kept looking.
By some miracle I eventually found a Gazelle cyclocross frame, an ex race bike, that would fit me. The tubing is Reynolds 753 which was state of the art for its day and is the lightest steel frame I have ever owned. The serial number indicates it was made in 1984 but the decals are circa 1989. Apparently the rear dropout broke (presumably in a crash) and a new one was installed and the frame was repainted. Being a true cyclocross bike meant for racing, it has a high bottom bracket and no water bottle braze ons. Back then road racers ran 20-22 mm tubulars; this frame was designed around 28 mm cross tubulars which were considered wide back then, so it does not have the clearance of a modern frame. I ran it with 29 mm clinchers for awhile but after I acquired a Lyon frame, 29 mm tires didn't seem very wide anymore so I took the Gazelle apart and into the attic it went.
I recently decided to give it another shot using 32 mm cyclocross tubulars; the rear wheel had to be moved back in the dropouts to gain enough clearance. I was originally running 39/44 chainrings which would be similar to what it originally had. In 'cross racing there is no need for super low gearing as it is faster to hop off the bike and shoulder it up a short steep incline rather than spinning a low gear. I rebuilt it with some of the parts off of a disassembled Bridgestone XO-1. The front derailleur has a braze on mount and I had to stick with a 44 large chainring as I couldn't lower the front mech any lower. I am using a 32 small chainring and I have to be careful when shifting the front as I have limited adjustment for the derailleur.
With 32 mm tubulars at 45psi front and 50psi rear, it has a nice cush but still accelerates and climbs well. Without the pump and spare tire it is 20.5 pounds which ain't bad. I have a set of 30 mm road tubulars aging and someday will install them which should make the bike feel faster yet. I also need to install a stem 1 cm longer which will wait for another day when I can play musical stems."
Here's a couple of shots of the Gazelle's front end; check out the nice cut-out Bocama head tube lugs:
Click or tap on any photo in this post for a higher definition (larger) image.
The main components are:
• Campagnolo C Record hubs laced to Mavic GEL 280 rims (as in 280 grams, pretty much as light as they come)
• Challenge Grifo XS 32 mm tubular tires *see note below*
• TA Cyclotouriste crankset 44/32
• Dura Ace freewheel 14-16-18-20-23-26
• Campagnolo C Record braze-on front derailleur
• Suntour Sprint rear derailleur
• Suntour XC ratcheting thumbshifters
• Nitto Dynamic stem, 11 cm
• Nitto Jitensha bars, cork grips (mainly to match the saddle)
• Real Design brake levers
• Brakes are Velo Orange cantilevers with "peace sign" cable hangers. I found out the
hard way that some older canti brake studs are spaced differently and many newer
cantilever brakes cannot be adjusted properly when mounted on them. I'm sure vintage Mafac or Weinmann cantis would fit but I prefer to have more adjustability with regards to toe-in of the brake shoes and I like the replaceable Kool Stop cartridge pads
• Campagnolo Chorus seatpost
• Brooks Swallow Ti saddle
*Note - For those of us unfamiliar with tubular tires, Sheldon Brown's Bicycle Glossary defines them as: "A type of tire mainly used for racing. A tubular tire has no beads; instead, the two edges of the carcass are sewn together (hence the term "sew-up") with the inner tube inside. Tubulars fit only on special rims, where they are held on by cement."
In Part 2, we'll take this vintage cyclocross bike out for a ride, and talk some more about this Gazelle and the Reynolds 753 tubing that it's constructed with. Stay tuned!
Over There!
Still on the road - we don't know our final destination, but it's somewhere between here and over there, give or take a few miles. This big brass marker in the middle of a lava field near the top of McKenzie Pass, over the Cascade Range in Oregon, is a wonderful compass.
On The Road
It's summer, time for a road trip. See you in a week or two.
Photo credit: June Anderson
At The County Fair
County fairs, in days past, were always in September - they were a celebration of the harvest as much as they were a chance to have some fun, go on some rides, eat cotton candy, and see your neighbors' giant tomatoes, prize pigs, and beautiful quilts. And if you were a teenager, you could lose yourself in the milling crowds with your neighbor's beautiful daughter, and maybe steal a kiss at the top of the ferris wheel. County fairs are still all those things, but these days, they seem to be scheduled around the availability of the traveling carney companies; the fair here, usually held in late August, always feels like a last blast of hot summer days and fun before the coming fall drudgery - rain, school, and more rain. This year's Lane County Fair was the earliest yet.
Here's some quick snapshots taken with an older Lumix TZ-3 pocket travel camera, which has great color right out of the box. That's good, since I don't have, and never will have, photoshop. Couldn't imagine a worse way to spend my time, actually; I'd rather just go out and have fun!
Click or tap on any photo above for a higher resolution (larger) image
Slug Love
A warm evening in summer, the heady scent of the Star Gazer Lily wafting upon the soft breeze, a quiet secluded corner of the garden... it's inevitable that thoughts and hearts turn towards love.
Crickets will sing their mating songs, nesting sparrows will snuggle a little closer, a young couple will hold hands and talk in hushed whispers about the future. And yes, even slugs would hold hands, if they had any to hold.
The 99 Cent Champ Amp, Part 3
In Part 2, we learned that it may be possible for someone with only a basic Neolithic skill level and a shaky grasp on electronic theory and reality (me), armed with the tools on hand in a typical cave dwelling home workshop, to assemble a guitar amp out of mostly scrap and junk components. But - does it even work? And will it sound better than it looks? This time, let's do some in-circuit voltage measurements, and do a short analysis of that data, as well as finally taking this beat up jalopy out for a spin.
Editor's note: the events depicted in this post are not in actual time sequence; in reality, we made sure the amp worked first, before reading voltages.
Once again, here's the schematic, as built, of this particular amp, with voltage measurements annotated. I should apologize for my sloppy schematic drawing skills, but 5 minutes with a pen beats an hour+ at a CAD program:
Running the Numbers
Okay, let's see what's going on in the output section. With an old Sylvania 6V6GTA plugged into the octal tube socket and a Sovtek 12AX7WA in the 9-pin socket, an 8 ohm speaker hooked up and the input shorted (normal condition with nothing plugged in), volume control zeroed, and almost exactly 120VAC at the wall outlet, we see 17.2VDC at the 6V6 cathode (pin 8), and 317VDC at the anode (plate, pin 3).
Let's do some simple math, using inversions of Ohm's Law: 17.2V divided by the measured actual resistance of the nominal 470 ohm cathode resistor, in this case 452 ohms, results in a calculated current draw across that resistor of .038A, or 38 milliamps. Now let's take the calculated voltage differential across this (tube) device, which is 299.8V (317V plate voltage, minus 17.2V at the cathode), and multiply that by .038A, and we come up with 11.39W, or about 11 and a half watts of plate dissipation at idle, which is roughly 80% of design rated maximum for a 6V6GTA (14W).
Plugging in a Fender Sylvania STR 6L6GC instead of a 6V6GTA results in 21.2V at pin 8, which gives us 13.9W plate dissipation, which is a lot less than that tube's 30W design max. In an ideal world, we should be able to up the output with a smaller value cathode bias resistor, but that presupposes a power transformer that would actually supply that extra juice. Although I have no spec sheet to support this, I suspect that the small-ish power transformer we have wouldn't support much higher of a current draw, no matter how much we fiddle with the cathode resistor value.
Finally, looking at the 12AX7 preamp tube, 1.4V and 1.5V at the cathodes of each triode section is pretty much right on target, well within this tube type's design operating parameters. And anything close to 200V at the plates of the 12AX7 double triode, in this case 191V, gets us to a good balance between gain, vintage tone, and headroom.
Well, simple or not, that's about enough math - time for another picture:
It's Alive!
Sometimes, after a repair or mod, I'll flip the switch, and... nothing. After tracing through the circuit, it might turn out that the Heisenberg Compensator had been soldered to the Relative Dimensional Stabilizer - what a boneheaded move! This time though, I got lucky - it worked straight away.
When the assembly was done, I plugged the 99 Cent Champ to AC through the handy home-made light bulb current limiter. The bulb's glowing dimly, good, and there's that nice low vibration coming from the power transformer, also good, since it means that the transformer is working. Shut it down, pop a couple tubes in, plug in a cheap test bench speaker, breathe deeply, and flip the switch again. After about 5 seconds, here comes a really faint hiss from the speaker - alright!
After letting it sit powered on for awhile to see if anything pops, explodes, or oozes, it's time to turn it off and then see how it sounds as an actual amplifier. I hooked up a '70s Oxford/Fender 12" in an open back cab, plugged in a '91 MIM Strat equipped with Classic Vibe pickups, flipped up the power switch, let the tubes warm up again, and cranked the volume pot. Not only did it work, but it worked well, and sounded... a lot like a Champ Amp. Well actually, a lot like a Champ through a 12" speaker.
In Part 1, I'd written that a Champ has a tone that is "clean, sweet and chimey at lower volumes, and progressively becomes more raw and edgy as you turn up the knob, finally topping out at a roaring overdrive, all at living room, bedroom, or studio control room levels", and that's exactly how this junkyard beast sounds. Playing a Strat with vintage style lower output pickups, the 3-way selector jiggled into a "between" switch position, and the amp volume pot cranked, gets a pretty close approximation of a Tweed Champ "Layla" kind of tone, especially if you get your ear close to the speaker cone and pretend you're one of Tom Dowd's Neumann mics.
With a guitar equipped with humbuckers or P90s, like my '77 Les Paul TV Special, the tone is every bit as clean and chimey at lower volume, but the higher pickup output results in a nice smooth singing distortion when the volume is dimed. Depending upon the speaker(s) used, it can sound Neil Young-ish or very like a Marshall - plug up to a Celestion or a "C"-clone in a closed back cab, and it's close. After all, Marshalls have the same basic preamp first gain stage, with only slight differences in component values.
Variations on a Theme
I experimented with having the feedback loop disconnected (22K resistor from the speaker output to the cathode of the 2nd triode), and although the amp was only a very slight bit louder, it was also more distorted and harsher sounding at all volume levels, so I hooked the feedback loop back up. I may eventually put in a switch to have the option of that other sound.
Some Champ-type circuits have a cathode bypass capacitor on the 2nd stage; with one in place, the 99 Cent Champ had an almost entirely different character. The range of clean tones at the lower end of the volume control's sweep was very limited; there seemed to be a lot more gain, and it went into overdrive a lot quicker, along with a noticeably higher overall output volume. The OD tone tended to be harsh and not very pleasing, although that sound may appeal to some players. Putting a sizable grid stopper resistor just before the 2nd triode would most likely sweeten things up, but I just took the cap out instead and went back to a more pleasing tone.
As expected, when a 6L6 was substituted, the maximum volume level was higher than it was with a 6V6, but not by very much. Tone wise, it was a bit cleaner sounding, with noticeably less overdrive when dimed. There also seemed to be more of a warmer tonality, but that may be due to the sound of a Fender Sylvania STR; I'll try out other 6L6s in the near future, and see how they work out. (note: a Russian Mil-Spec 6P3S-E, known in this country as a Sovtek 5881, sounds f***ing fantastic):
In any case, a vintage 6L6GC in this circuit is running at less than half of its design maximum current, and more than 200 volts less than max plate voltage, so it's just loafing along, taking it easy, and that's the way it sounds - smooth, non-edgy, and overall more Hi-Fi than a 6V6. And, being so far from its stress point, a 6L6 should last darn near forever here.
In Conclusion
Overall, I'm pretty happy with how this junkyard Champ turned out; some circuit mods worked, others didn't. In the end, it really is a sweet sounding amp - quiet and almost noiseless at lower volumes (thanks to short wiring runs and a choke in the power section), with a rich full bodied tonality, as well as having the ability to go through various stages of overdrive with a twist of the volume knob. Alternatively, you can just turn it up all the way, and go from clean to mean right at your guitar's volume pot - nice! Of course, it's not really a loud amp, probably no more than 4 watts output, but it's nice to get some real, actual, and honest tube OD sounds at lower than face-melting volumes.
Like I said earlier, I just got lucky; the components which had unknown operating conditions (like the transformers - did they even work?) all turned out to be okay. I will take no credit for anything here: basically, all the hard thinking and heavy lifting was done a half century or more ago by tube amp circuit designers who really knew what they were doing. And I am, like everyone else these days, only following in their genius footsteps.
In the near future, hopefully within a couple of weeks, we'll get around to adapting an old Kodak 8mm film projector speaker box into a cab for the 99 Cent Champ. Also, by that time, we'll have been able to see how this amp sounds with different preamp and output tubes, as well as a variety of speakers, old and new(ish). And that's not all: in response to some requests, I've promised an exclusive interview with the little rubber lobster.
And now let's do a safety disclaimer: As tube amp guru Gerald Weber is fond of saying - and here I'm just paraphrasing, it's not an actual quote: "The voltages and current levels inside even the smallest tube amplifiers can be LETHAL; take all necessary safety precautions, and if you aren't comfortable poking around inside a live circuit, then just don't do it."
Finally, I'd like to say that if anything I've written seems wrong, or if my math or even my assumptions feel like they're based on a dubious grasp on reality, let me know. I welcome your comments; as I've said, I'm only a hobbyist having fun, and I'm always willing to learn something new.
* * *
All photos taken with a Lumix ZS-25.Click or tap on any picture to go to a higher resolution (larger) image.
Crooked River Gorge
When you walk up to the edge of the gorge at Peter Skene Ogden Park, you can see just how hazardous it is. It's several hundred feet, straight down a sheer vertical cliff face, with just a low stone wall between you and eternity.
Actually, it makes you want to take the whole family back to the vehicle.
Getting back to the sign, though - that dog looks so fearless and strong, as he vaults over the wall to his doom. And what's up with those birds, anyway?
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