This is a rather expensive wireless mouse that boasts speed and precision response as good as that of a wired mouse, thanks to the full-speed, bidirectional USB connection.
The mouse is well designed ergonomically and is generally very comfortable for gaming and other uses. It glides smoothly on polytetrafluoroethylene feet. It’s durable and solid, although some people would prefer a little more heft to the hardware, we still say it’s the best wireless mouse.
As well as comfort, the mouse offers a lot of useful features and customization options to give you more control over your game.
It has a 2000 DPI laser engine and precision technology to deliver outstanding performance and tracking. There are three in-game sensitivity levels that can be changed on-the-fly. You can use the software to install advanced features such as game detection and adjustable sensitivity. The mouse even has a programmable tilt wheel.
The five-level battery life indicator ensures that you always know how much game time you have left. The mouse comes with twin battery packs that you can swap out while playing.
All in all, the Logitech G7 Laser Cordless Mouse is a good-quality gaming mouse that gives you both wireless flexibility and high performance.
Here are some of the features of the Logitech G7 Laser Cordless Mouse:
- – Laser cordless mouse
- – Blazing speed and instant acceleration
- – Comfort grip
- – Provides ultra-smooth glide
- – Three year warranty
Here is what current owners have to say about the Logitech G7 Laser Cordless Mouse:
S. W. Martin: “This is by far and away my favorite mouse. I have one that I have used for over a year. It is a dream for gaming. The accuracy is nearly as good as any wired mouse – without the hassle of wires! I love being able to change the resolution on the fly to get the accuracy I need for sniping, and then have the quick reflexes for traveling in games.”
The Philips Norelco G370 /60 Multi Grooming Kit is the Cadillac of men’s grooming. It is not just a beard shaver and trimmer, nor is it merely a ear and nose trimer. It’s an all in one grooming solution, and a sturdy one at that.
What’s the Philips Norelco G370 s all about?
The Philips Norelco G370 comes with two hair guards and three heads that fit onto the power base. The power base is a handsomely designed solid piece that contains the battery pack and the powerful motor and mechanisms. It has a well designed locking mechanism that easily engages and disengages the different cutting heads.
There are four cutting heads. One full size trimmer for regular trimming of the beard and head, one mini foil shaver, another precision trimmer, and one that is rotary for the nose, eyebrows and ears. On top of the main attachments, there are two different hair guards you can choose from.
One is for the hair clipper. This has nine length settings. You can chose various settings for different parts of your head to style it differently, or you can do a buzz cut. The choice is yours,Philips just gives you the versatility.
The second guard is for use when trimming the beard and mustache. This guard fits on the wide blade and easily keeps the length even across the target area.
All the attachments are washable and submersible in water. The base unit is not, but that’s fine for me as I do not need to wash the base unit. As long as I can get the blades and the surrounding mechanism clean from dust and shavings, that’s good enough.
The unit carries with it an air of contemporary design. It is full black with chrome buttons and switches. It’s a sleek looking piece of machinery and looks good just laying on the counter. Not only was it designed to look masculine, the ergonomics of holding the unit and articulating the body so that the head pivots when needed is intuitive, and I’ve never felt any discomfort trying to get a full trim from my neckline to my lips.
The hair guard and the beard guard have 9 different length settings that let you trim the beard down to a 5 o’clock shadow and keep it that way all the time. Or you can have just stubble as your goatee and use the mini foil shaver for the rest of your face without ever having to get a manual shaver to keep everything else smooth. The mini foil shaver gives me a clean shave in areas where I don’t wish any stubble growth.
Ups and Downs with the Philips Norelco G370
In my experience there can never be a perfect trimmer or shaver. One manufacturer will have one particular design to satisfy one need, and another will chose something else. The best you can hope for is to come close. The Philips Norelco G370 comes as close as it can to what I consider the perfect trimmer and shaver.
The first thing I like about it is that I do not need to shave the rest of my face after getting done with a trimmer. With the Philips Norelco G370, I just have to switch heads and the mini foil shaver easily takes care of the areas that I prefer to be clean shaven. It even works well on my neck below the beard line.
The next thing I like is the fact that al the parts fit well and lock and unlock without excessive effort. It’s the mark of good design and good manufacturing. Once locked into place the pieces feel like they are meant for each other and there is no inclination that the pieces are detachable.
I also like the level of sophistication that the overall design offers. Even the sound and vibration are understated. There is no loud buzz or uncomfortable resonance that the wrist feels from unbalanced mechanisms found in some manufacturer’s products. Silence is indeed golden, and the Philips Norelco G370 certainly puts that to practice.
Here is what I wish it did better. This particular model in the Philips range does not allow for use in the shower. While the four different blade attachments can be washed, the base unit cannot.
It is not water tight and that prevents its use in wet conditions. A little design change and the entire unit would be water resistant. I also wish there was a multifunction display to indicate the level of battery charge. Without it I have to keep track of when I charged it. That can be rather cumbersome. That leads me to another aspect of the unit that ruffles my feathers. It takes 10 hours to get the NiMH batteries up to full charge. I can understand if this was the 90s, but we live in a world of Lithium Ion and those only need an hour charge to last almost an hour of use. The Philips Norelco G370 takes 10 hours just to yield 35 minutes of use.
Those two issues were almost enough for me to trade up, and I might just do that once I wear the life out of this one. But for now I have become accustomed to it and I like the way the shape handles my style of shaving. It gives me a quick trim and a quick shave. It handles better than dedicated shavers do and that more than balanced any gripe I had with some of the inconveniences I mentioned earlier.
In the final analysis, the Philips Norelco G370 has been a trusted tool and an all in one grooming companion that has given me the precise look that I have grown accustomed to. The aesthetics are desirable and the functionality is satisfying. I am also comforted by the fact that it is a Philips, where customer service is always top notch. No matter how good a product is, there must always be top notch service to stand behind it, and Philip’s does that, unrelentingly.
This is the blog that I hoped I’d never have to write. Neither of us got to stand on top of Everest, and at first glance one might deem the expedition and the months of preparations a failure. Despite the massive disappointment of not having achieved our ultimate goal, and the fact that we were so close, on reflection the whole experience has been exceptional, and provided a vehicle to test ourselves to the very limit.
Summit day started at 22.30 with everyone vacating their tents, trying to put on their crampons, organise their oxygen (O2) cylinders and masks, and find a spare Sherpa under the lights of their head torches. Unfortunately, Jonathan had to leave the group a couple of days before due to altitude sickness, which along with the loss of other members of the group earlier in the expedition, left us either almost a one on one Sherpa/ client ratio, supposedly. A spare Sherpa fitted in behind me as we all shuffled past but conversation was always going to be limited due to the O2 masks and the fact that he spoke no English. The pitch black was only interrupted by the head torches and an electric storm off in the distance, but as it got light after about 6 hrs of climbing, it became obvious that my Sherpa was struggling. As a matter of Sherpa pride he hadn’t been using O2, and it took me quite a while to persuade him to put on his mask and descend, leaving me and Geordie who’d just joined us, to continue the climb.
The fact that we no longer had Sherpa support was a blow but not a show-stopper. The fixed ropes show the way but pacing and safety are definitely enhanced if you have that confidence booster of someone overseeing you. My main issue, and one that can most definitely can be a show-stopper, was the supply of O2 from my mask. Only very few people in the world can operate with impunity at very high altitude without supplementary O2. The vast majority of us will simply fall unconscious and die, so the flow of O2 from our cylinders is what our lives depended on. Throughout the initial climb up to the 1st of the 3 steps leading to the summit cone, I was aware that my O2 apparatus was not operating as it should, with constant icing of the valves and pipes inhibiting the amount of gas that was available for me to use. As the activity became more intense with the near vertical section of the 1st step, I was regularly left retching and hyper-ventilating, desperately grabbing at my mask trying to get some oxygen inside me. Being deprived of the amounts of O2 that I so desperately needed over a period of hours left me not only utterly exhausted by the time I got near the 2nd step, but also very anxious as to whether the O2 equipment would keep me alive during that last section. Most challenges require a combination of factors to be in place to enable success, and mountaineering perhaps more than most requires a substantial amount of luck and robust equipment. On this occasion we were both let down by the effectiveness of our most vital piece of equipment, the O2 apparatus. The summit looked so close at only a few hundred metres away, but realistically it was still 5 hrs of some of the most exposed and physically demanding climbing on the ridge. I felt completely drained and worried about the oxygen, because if my mask continued to restrict my O2 then I could be left beyond help. I’d just decided to go for the 2nd step and see if I could find a Sherpa to look at my mask, when suddenly I was standing in a cloud and could barely see 10 metres. I shouted to Geordie about how quickly the bad weather had come in and asked if he could see enough to go on. He looked at me uncomprehendingly, and after repeating myself, he assured me that the weather was in fact still gin clear and he could see for hundreds of miles in every direction. The couple of other climbers I asked as to what the weather was like must have thought I was mad, but I was utterly confused as to why no one else could see that the visibility had come down to mere metres. Something had happened to my eyes and I didn’t know what. I’ve subsequently found out from a high altitude specialist that my corneas had begun to freeze, but at the time it just added more confusion, although it made my decision to turn back easy.
Challenges like this require risk and sacrifice, but it’s all about balancing risk. It’s about recognising the risk and assessing whether the potential outcome is worth the potential sacrifice. To me, the personal satisfaction and experience of reaching the summit is not an outcome worth risking my life or eyesight for. Dead bodies are scattered along the summit ridge and act as a stark reminder that the risks are not exaggerated. A Japanese climber died only yesterday 50 m from where I was standing the day before, trying to make my decision; maybe they decided to take the risk? I’ve grilled myself over my decision ever since I got down to a safe altitude, running over whether I could have done things differently, and I am absolutely content and satisfied that I was right. Dave Bunting, who led the Army expedition to the West Ridge in 2006, was confronted with the most difficult of decisions when he cancelled the attempt just short of the summit due to an extremely high avalanche threat. His team were a highly motivated group of service personnel who had trained for 3 years for this opportunity, and some within the group thought he was being risk averse. Risk aware is not risk averse, and I thought it was a great piece of leadership when he sat the brooding group in front of him, looked them in the eyes, and told them all that if there was anyone in the group thought the likely sacrifice of a group member was a suitable risk for a summit attempt, then they were wrong- full stop. It made sense to me.
I am therefore strangely content sitting here at BC, despite the perceived failure. I am gutted that we didn’t summit, but I know that on another day, with O2 equipment that did what it said on the tin, I could have done it (assuming my eyeballs didn’t freeze again) but it was not to be this time. It’s been an incredible experience and one that I will value always. It’s not often you get to make life and death decisions when you’re at the edge of your physical and mental capabilities, and I’m proud that I think I gave it everything but ultimately got my priorities right.
Finally, apologies to Laura and my parents for keeping them guessing for a couple of days; I know it was massively stressful but I’m back in one piece as promised!
Thanks for all your support
To climb everest one needs 3 aspects:
2.sufficient will power
3. Adequate support / luck
In our case we had the first two covered but sadly when it mattered most on summit day for factors outside our own control we lacked on the third.
From the start we talked about doing Everest in a ‘bare bones’ way: that was as hard as was still possible for us (relatively novice climbers)- professionally led but non guided. There is the availability on this mountain to climb it on a scale from fully solo, unsupported without oxygen, which is up there with the most unbelieable endeavours any human could ever achieve. Right the way through to fully pampered- someone holding your hand the whole way, administering for you, including carrying your weight, kit and excessive amounts of oxygen. On top of this you have the choice of routes:
The East and West ridge are almost imposible for all but the worlds best and most experienced climbers which is why only a handful of people have succeed on them. The North and even more so the South side as it is slightly less technical are renowned as the ‘commercial’ routes where people like Keith and I can pay a firm on varying scales as outlined above to put the logistics in to support you to the top.
Of course the vast majority of people on these sides pick somewhere in the middle of this scale having the integrity to train hard before hand, carry your own kit and administer yourself higher up on the mountain. However, when a ‘climbed Everest’ is reported no one outside yourself or perhaps those around you truely know how much resource you recieved, what level of support, which route and thus where on that scale you stood in achieving the quest.
Which begs the question of why do people challenge themselves to climb mountains like this?
If it is to summit, then clearly in a black or White way, ours wasn’t succesful. There is no getting away from this outcome and regardless of reasons both Keith and I will always wish we had. However, if it is to challenge yourselves, to push the boundaries of what you are physically and mentally capable of, if it is to take something on you know you’re not good at, face failure and to come away with your pride intact. If it is to know the seductive temptation of unconciousness encrouching upon you but know that your own death is it’s hidden but inevitable outcome. If it was to scratch the itch before real life kicks in and in that fulfil the challenge so that you crave normality and never need to do something like this again…… Then yes it was indeed succesful.
In light of the above, I’m sure that some find this challenge easier than others but for us and the way we did it, it was indeed the ultimate test of resolve, fortitude and patience. To that end Id like to thank my family for giving me the character to achieve what we did, Britains injured troops the motivation to do so, our sponsors for allowing us the chance, the climbing team for the friendships made and lastly to my good friend Keith Reesby for the camaraderie and memories shared.
Throughout the day the other team members made their way back to the safety and relative luxury of ABC.
Stories of the summit evening were readily told back in the warm. It quickly transpired that there were quite a few incidents; be them organisational, communication or otherwise that negatively contributed to our low level of summit success.
It has been said that all climbing and mountaineering companies artificially manipulate their summit success figures as it helps to attract future business. They tend to include employed Sherpas and guides. The truth was that out of 14 clients that were on the mountain, 12 attempted summit day and only 4 made the top. It was a disappointing figure especially as the group was considered relatively strong.
Alongside myself, there was one other member who had particular frustration. Young Stephen from Edinburgh who was climbing the mountain in memory of his recently deceased father, had been provided with two empty oxygen canisters but hadn’t realised this till he reached the top of the second step. Despite efforts to rectify the situation over the radio he was left without assistance for almost 1.5 hours! It obviously scuppered his summit chances but thankfully assistance arrived at last allowing him to get back to safety.
Though now all the way back at base camp and previously been told there would be no second chance, there still obviously still existed a lot of frustration at what had happened. As such Steven and I in particular but also with the interest of a couple of others still enquired as to what the chances would be of going up again?
I have no intention of spending tens of thousands of pounds again, plus taking two and a half months off not to mention the whole pain of training and acclimatisation process, just to climb the other 150 odd meters that we would have done the first time. However, as we were here anyway, despite it needing another phenomenal physical effort when all your body wants to do is go home and collapse- why not finish the job off?!
The answer came late yesterday (25.5.10) when to their credit the AP guides Stu Peacock and Matt Dickinson (who throughout the trip with the resources and infrastructure they’ve had to work with have by and large done an excellent job) had chased up possible operators on the mountain. However even the Chinese Mountain Association who fix the ropes couldn’t help as the weather is now closing in.
Disappointed but reflective, we went back to our tents to pack our kit. We’d had the answer; we had to accept what had happened.
We head home and the story ends….
Having brewed up as much as possible at the high altitude where 1 litre takes two hours and sorting out ones kit to go we set off at 2230 into the cold and dark.
On reflection, no one appeared to orchestrate leaving or indeed if there were any accompanying Sherpas. It was mainly a steep slope with lots of head torches and some very exhausted western climbers.
Personally I set off well and though obviously very exhausting work, I was making good progress up the hill to the ridge. A Sherpa with an Adventure Peaks down suit on appeared to be shadowing me, albeit unfortunately we hadn’t met previously.
Getting onto the NE ridge seemed to take forever and despite my best efforts with two sets of gloves and hand warmers my hands were becoming increasing useless with the frost bite/nip.
When we eventually got to the ridge I noticed a) how much of a relief it was that the going was now far quicker as it was far less steep and b) how beautiful it was. Walking on precarious rock with crampons with huge drops either side is quite intimidating but with the crystal clear sky and lightening storms in the distance it was striking.
It was however at this stage that I started to struggle. Though my pace had been good and well ahead of schedule my breathing had become increasingly difficult. For some reason my ‘Top Out’ breathing apparatus seemed to be pumping less oxygen in than before. What I hadn’t noticed was that the box which held the bag had broken (probably on the climb to the ridge). Though it wasn’t operating properly, I could still draw some oxygen from it and thus though it had slowed me down, I could still move and thus cracked on. At this point with the reduced supply, the blood to my extremities reduced and very quickly I lost practical use of my hands. Sod it- I can’t type anyway! I mentioned before that we were also doing this climb to raise funds for our injured troops some of whom had lost entire limbs so what was the odd digit in comparison? And thus resigned myself to the fact that I would lose some fingers and was in fact happy with exchange in return for summiting. Besides which the sun would be up soon and hopefully that would warm up my core temperature.
Very soon afterwards we passed ‘green boots’ a very earie and sobering moment striking home the point that this place is called the ‘death zone’ for a reason and no one can get you off the mountain except yourself! He was so well preserved that it could have been one of our group having just stopped for a nap and of course never having woken up.
Half an hour later we reached what I think was the 1st step. We climbed it but it was at this stage that I was really really struggling to breathe through my apparatus. Alongside the limited airflow the valves had all completely frozen. So much so that I couldn’t draw any air in at all and even at this altitude I could breath easier the atmospheric air than through the mask. Via body language I communicated this with the Sherpa of which we both tried to rectify it to no avail. I couldn’t clear the blockage and he did not know how to resolve the issue. I then tried to call our group leader and then all our group’s call signs to see if anyone could help or had a spare. There was no response. I then urged the Sherpa to attempt the same. He didn’t understand. After trying on numerous occasions with no response some of the others had caught up and two other Sherpas played with the mask to fix the issue. It was then that one of them noticed a crack in the tube; ” Very. Very bad!” “Very Very Serious. Must Go Down, Must go Down!”
I asked if anyone had a spare or if he could go down and I had his tube allowing me to crack on?
Quite understandably with the dangers involved he wouldn’t let me for fear for himself.
We were probably 100 yards from the second step- the last technical obstacle before the summit. I could even see the head torches on the summit ridge which seemed so close. I’d spent a year training for this was going really well and yet with no other breathing apparatus there was no other option.
Once the decision was made I was very quickly aware I was somewhere between 8500-8600m with no supplementary oxygen and thus fear kicked in. I’ll be honest in saying I’ve never been as scared in my life. There are over 10 dead bodies on display on that ridge up to the summit and for anyone thinking this challenge is easy we were only minutes from losing a few more and another climber died last night too.
Pure flight or fight stuff yet the lethargy and lack of air makes you so weak you just want to take a quick break. The reality is though, if you do, you end up like the rest and never wake. By this stage, my hands were almost completely useless and I have to say that the Sherpa added real value for the first time in assisting me clipping in and out of ropes – and thank God he could.
Hours later, back to the relative safety of high camp (8300 m) with the sun having risen I looked back on the summit ridge to see some of our team (albeit a very limited few) taking the last steps to the roof of the world. To a man they are all great guys, thoroughly deserved it and so was delighted for them but selfishly was absolutely gutted and frustrated that I wasn’t among them knowing hand on heart that I would have been and the only thing that had stopped me was something completely out of my control.
As such after getting my head down for an hour or so and still panicking a little about my lack of breathability ( the valves had now unfrozen and thus though still not ideal, I could get sufficient amounts of air to be resting on) I started to enquire what the chances were to have another crack that night?
I didnt want to descend further if I was going to go back up. For some reason despite trying many times, my comms didn’t seem to get a reply and after some arguing, talking and explaining with some other sherpas I decided to descend by one more camp (to 7800m and out of the death zone) to further safety and await a more definitive response.
After another few hours and still not hearing what fate Keith and the others had had reports started to come in that there had been many complications on the mountain, some had summmited, some had had issues and others had simply turned around. The group leader and one of the strongest clients were helping another one of ours down with cerebral odeama. I was still waiting to see if there would be another chance but now I heard that with the severity of incidents and cause of events the answer unequivocally was “no”.
Disappointed, frustrated and a little angry, with that clear direction I therefore decided to descend back to relative luxury and thus went all the way down to ABC.
Later that evening, exhausted, the rest of the group managed to get themselves back to 7800 eventually although listening to the radio communication with the days serious events it was more by fortune than judgement that everyone in the state they were got back to rest and safety.
In hindsight it was an unbelievably hard day and in total from rising for the summit attempt to arriving back to ABC was 19 hours on the go. It even trumped some of the other days on this trip and that is saying something but fuelled with frustration but especially pure fear to get out of the death zone you find levels of energy you didn’t think were possible and indeed to that end truly reach the limits of your capability.
Finishing on a high point, Max our characterful American made it to the summit and back to ABC in a day an unbelievable feat of energy and endurance. As a result Andy, Ian, Heather and myself toasted his success and the other’s safety.
Exhausted, relieved, warm and most thankfully all alive we collapsed to an unbelievable nights sleep.
The analysis and reflection can start tomorrow…