Colin Ellard - You Are Here

Getting lost in the woods

Ok, it's true.  I did get a little lost in the woods with Colin Hunter of The Record.  But in my defense, it was quite purposeful and it was only for a few seconds.  We were talking about cultivating a playful relationship with space.  Something I find interesting is that we have a deep primal fear of being lost, especially in wilderness.  Our little adventure last week was not exactly wilderness trekking.  We were in a suburban forest not much bigger than a Walmart, but it has lots of undulating criss-crossing trails, some dense wood, and some really nice changes in elevation.  If you become distracted, you can get nicely disoriented.  And I emphasize nicely.  The idea we were discussing was that it might be fun and possibly even useful for people to make themselves more attuned to the size and shape of physical space by deliberately taking themselves into unfamiliar terrain for a little while, purposefully losing their bearings and then doing a little self-monitoring.  In simple adventures like this one, we know we're not going to die of exposure or be mauled by bears.  Worst case is that we spend a little more time than we expected to in leisurely pursuits, and we end up finding things we weren't expecting to.  Not such a terrible fate, and very good for our minds.

Another winner

Well, I have to say that nobody knocked my socks off with stories of getting lost, so I'm not giving out any grand prizes, but there were some very nice entries.  This one, from Liam Brown, wins a book.  For some reason, it struck me as having the same kind of atmospherics as Ondaatje's In the Skin of a Lion.  But don't let it go to your head Liam.  It's just a book.  Thanks for playing.  We'll be in touch soon for the particulars.

"During the summer of 2002,  I decided that I'd squeeze one final summer of honest work out of myself.  Naturally, I decided that a steel mill would be the best locale for such pursuits.

Located in Hamilton, ON, Dofasco - now apart of the Arcelor Mittal parent company, and the last of Canada's steel mills to be bought out from an international company - was where my father worked.  It was easy enough to get a job there for a summer cutting samples off of the ends of galvanized steel coils (the kind that you see driving along the 400 series highways that look as though if they were to ever fall off would crush the most resilient of SUVs) in order to test the integrity of the batch.  The job went along fairly uneventfully through until July, but on Canada Day I wanted to see the celebrations so I decided that I would climb to one of the giant towers that the steel is pulled through in order to cool it off after emerging from the molten zinc.  I was on my break, and thought that the view would yield a beautiful vista of fireworks if I could get onto the roof.

Foolishly, I didn't mention to anyone where I was going and made my way to the elevator that leads to the roof and follows the same upward path as the steel (as a result it is a very uncomfortably warm ride).  I had been in the elevator once before to go up on the roof and the worker that had taken me told me of a time when it stopped mid floor and he was stranded there for three hours in the 42 degree heat while Dofasco's millwrights worked on the car to get it operating again.  It had worked smoothly that time, so I returned and used it again.  I walked into the car, pressed the button for the roof and to my surprise watched as I was encased in complete darkness as soon as the doors closed.  My feet got heavy as it lurched upwards and I began to feel really panicked and claustrophobic thinking that the lack of light was a sign of worse things to come.  Soon though, the doors opened to the top level where you could exit onto the roof.  Breathing a huge sigh of relief I clamoured up the catwalks and out into the cool night air.  The view was worth it, and fireworks had already begun to be fired into the sky.  I sat there for the duration of my break, forgetting about the elevator until I realized I had to go down again.

I pressed the button to call the lift, but when it came and the doors opened the light was still off inside.  At the top of the roof there was no external light outside the car, so I could not see the buttons enough to press the ground floor.  I was terrified that despite any correct directions it would not make it all the way down and I would be trapped in an unventilated box whose temperature would rise with my anxiety.  I decided I'd try climbing down the interweaving catwalks instead of the less enticing former option, despite this being a no-admittance area.

I made it down one level before being absolutely lost, in temperatures which as it turned out where much worse than what I had experienced in the elevator.

Instead of turning back, I continued, following the path that the steel takes as it ends up at my work station, where my boss was covering me for break.  It got hotter and I got more confused, as the steel would disappear for a time before reappearing somewhere in the distance that did not have a direct route for me to walk along with it.  I was sweating buckets, and had taken my construction hat off to stop me from banging it on the low hanging pipes above me.  I made it down another level before coming to a black man hole with a ladder disappearing into it - there was hot air coming from the hole like passing your hand over the spout of a kettle.  This was enough.  I decided to turn back and take my chances with the elevator. 

On the way back I went over a different catwalk that takes you away from the steel's hot course. I was starting to get overwhelmed by the temperature and decided a different direction might yield better results.  This time, I was right except that the path led me directly down into the middle of the steel line, in front of both my boss and fellow summer students.  Manic and drenched in sweat I explained why I had just emerged bedraggled from a no-admittance zone of the steel mill.  Unflinching, my boss led me back to the elevator and showed me the light switch that I had missed on the inside of the panel wall; I had never heard of an elevator with a manual light."

Contest update

Other than a brief flurry of activity last night at our unofficial family book launch (which consisted of a feast of tacos followed by an alarming rapid-pace series of tequila shots and then a jaunt to a local church basement to drink beer and listen to a klezmer band -- another sentence I never thought I'd write), I've been confining myself to rest and quiet -- inasmuch as such as thing is possible in the insane asylum I call my house so that I can get over a nasty cold in time for a couple of interviews on Tuesday.

I'm now starting to feel as though if I don't soon get out of this big fat comfy chair and seek out some grand isovists, though, I'm going to expire.  So I'm taking my little dog off to the park or something.  He and I are going to hash out some ideas for book 2 (and no it's not another dog obedience book -- I've a colleague who has this territory covered nicely and he can keep it!).  Now that you have all the news you don't need, here's a bit of news you may care slightly more about.

First, the results from the last quiz.  Following complaints from some players that I was making life too easy, I did my best to do something a bit more challenging.  The quiz began with a bit of strange looking text:

The text is a string of Klingon which, when translated, will take you here.  Some people, feeling quite pleased with themselves for getting this far (including one great fan and player who, with the help of her extremely handsome and intelligent 10 year old son, solved the puzzle using some string analysis without even knowing it was Klingon!), were quite put off by the fact that they had no clue who was pictured, nor why he had a number hanging from his lower lip.  Much chasing down blind alleys for actors who had been connected in any way with the Klingon empire, including some fascinating coincidences involving lives and deaths in the year 1986.  But very few players kept in mind the fact that the answer would likely be a PLACE rather than a person and that the gameplay would have something to do with the themes of my book.  Some guessed as well that the person might be a writer, perhaps an architect.  Turns out he's both.  Witold Rybczinski wrote a book called "Home" in 1986.  It did pretty well, too.  It's a book that is close to my heart because, when I was writing my book, special agent Bukowski recommended that I take a look at Rybczinski's book as a model of how to write engaging literary non-fiction.  And it should be obvious that there are thematic connections between Rybczinski's book and mine.  But alas not quite home yet, because the puzzle is only a good one if it ties everything together.  What's the connection between the Klingon text and the book?  The correct answer to the quiz, and the only one to win a book, is Qo'nos, home planet of the Klingons.  The person who figured this out is not only already due for a free book, but his name is in the book as well -- acknowledging the interesting conversations we've had over the past few years: Justin Perdue.  So I'm not giving Justin a book (which means there are still lots to give away).  I'll give him something else instead. Haven't decided what yet.  Incidentally, when I was designing this puzzle, I was at one point thinking of adding a couple of extra steps, one of them involving translation of ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics and galactic coordinates to bring the chase to a particular location on the surface of Earth.  It was somewhere in Texas.  Maybe another time.

I've also selected a winner for the previous contest -- the one where I asked readers to submit stories about their having become lost.  But I need to go off to the park now.  Oh, and cough a bit as well.

The game is still on.

Just because the midnight deadline for the bonus prize has passed (so I'll be eating lunch alone today -- fries and coffee at the mall no doubt), it doesn't mean the contest is closed. If you can dig up the answer, I'll still send you a signed copy of the book and a chocolate bar. Some of you have gotten past the first hurdle and fewer of you are thinking about this the right way.  But I'll admit it's not easy.  You have to know your stuff (and your faces).

In other news, I got a nice writeup in the Globe and Mail today.  It was fun to talk to a journalist who really "got" what I was trying to say.

New quiz

But you'll have to go to my Twitter to get started.  The clock is running.

Nobody's won yet.

I'm going to bed without declaring a winner.  I've had some great entries, but I'm not convinced I've got a real sample yet.  I may keep this particular quiz going for a little while as I dream up the next nasty code for you to crack.  I didn't expect this to be nearly as much fun as it has been so far.  In fact, I was so jazzed by that chase through virtual Dublin that I booked a visit to the real place in June for Bloomsday.  Too bad about those internet travel brokers and thank dog for no pre-set spending limit.  I'd better not set any codes in Antarctica.  It's also pretty high on my wish list.

Quiz 3

Third installment of my contest.  The prize is a signed copy of my book "Where Am I?".  This time, I'd like to try something a little different -- audience participation.  I can hear the groans all the way from here -- the death of distance indeed.  But here's the thing:  one of the reasons I wanted to put a QR code on the jacket of my book was to encourage readers to think that they could quickly and easily spark up a link with me.  I have all kinds of reasons for wanting to do this other than prurient curiosity about who's reading my book (though, yeah, I've got some of that).  Mainly, I want to hear your stories to try to understand what it is about us that makes us so darned hopeless at finding our way from place to place (I know, I know....I just wrote a book about something like this and so you'd think I'd have some answers already.  And I do.  Promise.  But there's always more to be learned.).

So here's the deal.  Send me your best story about being lost.  Is there some Bermuda Triangle where you always lose your way?  For me, it's the area around Elora, Ontario.  But this isn't about me.  Is there a particularly hateful building that just doesn't work for you?  Ever missed a flight because you couldn't find your way through the airport?  Ever lost a girlfriend?  Wait, no.  That's different.  I mean unless you really lost her. Tell me a story.  Send a picture if you like (I'd love to see pictures of particularly nasty wayfinding labyrinths).  The best story (and here I'm judge, jury and executioner -- though I may recruit a little help from my son, who's so infatuated by this whole thing that he's made a promotional YouTube video for me) wins a free signed book.  And if you really knock my socks off, I'll throw in something special.  I'm not sure what yet.  Maybe my compass if I can find it.  Email, blog comment, Pony Express, whatever you want.  And if you want me to keep your name off the airwaves, just let me know.  I'm waiting to hear from you.  These books are cluttering up the hallways.

The boathouse - quiz #1

The first quiz consisted of a QR code containing a link to a Google map that showed a marker in a building by the edge of a little lake in Kitchener, Ontario.  To win the book, a player needed to find a way to crack the code (as with a camera phone loaded with a free QR code reader) and then leap to the Google map and find some way to identify the building.  Not too tricky, but a good warmup round to encourage readers to have a crack at QR decoding and to take a peek at a custom Google map.  Using online maps for navigation is nothing new for most people, but fewer know that it's pretty easy and fun to design your own maps and to make them available to others.  This can be very handy for all kinds of things, including pointing out an interesting feature, indicating a route or a trail, or really anything where you want to have a personalized and enduring online record of some piece of geography, large or small.  If you're interested in that sort of thing -- and loads of people seem to be these days -- it isn't very hard to find a kajillion specialized applications for doing everything from travel blogging to geo-tagging photographs.  I've mentioned a few of them in these pages.

But there was another reason for my having chosen the site that I did for the answer to the first quiz.  The building in question is one of my most beloved landmarks in my adopted home town of Kitchener.  The Boathouse is a tiny little dot of a blues club sitting on the shores of an artificial lake in Victoria Park.  There are all kinds of reasons to love this place.  One of the biggest is that it has been a frequent haunt of Mel Brown, an extraordinary musician who helped to build the Kitchener area as a hub of blues music.  When it comes to blues, Kitchener definitely punches above its weight, and Mel Brown is one of the reasons for this.  Brown played here a lot on Sunday afternoons for not a lot of money but a lot of fun.  On the notorious Saturday referred to in the quiz, funeral services were held for him in Kitchener, and some of the revellers ended up here listening to another great local band named Daddy Long Legs.

But there's more.  There's just something about this little room containing not much more than a rickety kind of stage, a hole-in-the-wall kitchen, a bar about the same size as the one my dad had in his basement rec-room and seating for about 30 people.  When you walk through the door, especially if you already know something about the history of the place and the incredible musicians who have played there, you're taken aback.  It doesn't look like much.  But yet at the same time, you're suffused by a subtle kind of ease.  Once through the door and settled into a semi-comfy chair (if you're one of the few to get one), you just don't ever want to leave.  I don't get to go to the Boathouse as often as I'd like to, but every time I slide into one of their seats and settle into a night of music appreciation, gazing out over the little lake, sipping a fine glass of beer, I find myself wondering why I don't spend a lot more time there.  It's a place I want to be.  It's a place entirely associated with positive emotions for me.  I love it there.   It seemed fitting to me that I open this little contest with a story about a place that I love, because parts of my book are about exactly these kinds of ideas -- what is it about such places that draw us?  Of course, there's the music and the very generous and fun manager, Kevin.  But I think it also has to do with the style, the appearances, and the shapes of the space.  It's a room that somehow resonates with its purpose and its memories.  And that's worth thinking about.

Quiz de-brief

Anyone checking in late who may be disappointed to have missed out on the book grab, should rest assured that we still have 8 more books to give away, plus a grand prize for something truly schemingly difficult and platial.  I was frankly a bit surprised by the speed with which a pretty decent puzzle was solved (it was about 2 hours from post to prize), but proud to have a smart audience.  I'll have an update soon with some details about how the puzzles were put together, some more QR tips (you don't really have to have a QR-enabled phone to read these things), and maybe some other blather as well.  But right now I'm feeling a bit Maundy, my family is glaring at me because I've promised to put my computer away for the night, and so....I'm going to spend a few days brooding and eating chocolate and then will have something good to put up early next week.  Will announce here and on Twitter.

Quiz 2

Remember:  Canadian residents only.  If you're offshore and want to play, feel free to email me your answers (I'll do my best to respond) but don't spoil the fun for the Canuck-book-needy.

UPDATE There's a devilish persistent quizeteer who is hotly in pursuit of the prize.  I've missed several meetings now chasing him through the streets of ______.  I don't think it will be long now before either he gets the book or I lose my day job.