I?m sitting in my neighborhood coffee place -- the one where I don?t have to explain my ?When Harry Met Sally? version of an espresso-- but the usual aura of contentment has been replaced ever so subtly by the sense that something is missing. The green lights on my new wireless card are blinking but nobody?s home. More precisely, no one?s letting me into his or her home.

My laptop is all dressed up for WiFi with nowhere to go.

That wasn?t the case this time last week when I was able to wander at 11 mpbs from a concrete  bunker during a conference in the bottom of Aspen?s St. Regis Hotel. Some people bring home T-shirts as souvenirs. I went for the wireless PCMCIA card instead. I wasn?t alone as other conference goers succumbed to the lure of the WiFi siren aka Jim Selby (Real Audio link offers an explanation of his work on NPR), an Aspen resident whose mission is to spread the WiFi word to all.

		An epiphany -- well, at least a small halogen light bulb -- that true wireless could be the key to unlocking the value in so many Internet efforts. And then the crushing reminder that this was not even close to reality.

Granted, I was pushed over the edge by the lack of a local access number for my Internet provider and the unusual (for me) option of having my newest productivity tool installed by someone else while I was working. That?s real luxury for someone who doubles as her own tech department. So what if I might not be able to use it anywhere else for a while? I?d finally get a glimpse of what the WiFi fuss is all about -- and I?d be able to get my e-mail at a speed I can only dream of at home.
 
The result: For a few fleeting moments of true portability. No plugs as long as my Toshiba battery held out. No wires. No USB link dumping information to a PDA for pseudo-portability. No squinting at a cell phone screen. Darn little fuss once the kinks were worked out. An epiphany -- well, at least a small halogen light bulb -- that true wireless could be the key to unlocking the value in so many Internet efforts. And then the crushing reminder that this was not even close to reality.

Cut off from my supply once I left the limited range of the network established at the St. Regis for the conference, I understood how people addicted to Blackberrys feel when they lose the signal. That afternoon I left my hotel, which offered Internet via the TV -- hey, the keyboard was wireless -- and hit the pavement in search of a connection. My first effort to pay for wireless access at a hapless Internet caf? was a dismal failure.  I could actually see the wireless access point but the card and the network didn?t speak the same language. Great, I?ve acquired another doorstop, I thought as I left the caf? after breaking down and using a desktop to check my e-mail.

Then I remembered Selby?s insistence that I should be able to pick up signals at hot spots around Aspen thanks to an extensive free network he established before selling it to someone trying to establish a commercial network. I also realized that precious few people in Aspen knew who I was, so I could walk around secure that I was only making a fool of myself in front of strangers.  (That lasted until the next day when a waitress at lunch asked if I?d had any luck. Very small town.) Pleased that I was traveling with my compact, light Portege sub-notebook instead of a clunkier full-service laptop, I started walking the streets of downtown Aspen trying to keep the computer awake while I looked for green lights on the wireless card. Later, Selby?s assistant, Igor, installed a swell program called Net Stumbler that actually makes noises when it scores a hit, enabling a hot spot stalker to watch where she?s going.

I could see networks popping up like crazy when I realized I was also stumbling through an ethical minefield, uncertain about which networks had been left open on purpose for drop-ins or were unintentionally wide open. I knew I didn?t know how to get into their computers but that didn?t make it less of an intrusion. And it was likely that some of the networks were sharing access from ISPs meant to serve only one household or business. Still, I could sit on a bench in pedestrian Hyman Mall and look at the mountains while I did a few tasks that otherwise would have kept me inside. (Besides, it was research.) Whenever possible I tried for the wireless provider who bought Selby?s network; an e-mail I sent asking to subscribe was never answered.  

That was just the beginning of a whirlwind tour of the ups and downs of wireless access. An FCC staffer at the conference suggested that I password protect my own files because others could peek in through the wireless connection. I was worried until I remembered that I installed passwords for our home network, but it was a vivid reminder of the fragile nature of security in the wired and wireless environment. I learned that while it might be easy to download information, uploading through my ISP?s mail server could require contortions. Moving just a few inches or turning in a different direction could degrade or even dissolve the connection. It wasn?t real freedom but it was as close as I could get. I knew I wanted a wireless access point at home when we finally get what passes for broadband access; I didn?t realize until last week just how much I wanted to be able to use it outside the house, too. 

Quite by accident I was in Denver when Starbucks launched its national wireless service. Unable to get a connection from my room at the Hotel Monaco, which promised high-speed access on the Web site, much to the chagrin of the staff I took the computer out for a walk. 

Before I left the room I checked with the nearest Starbucks and was told their wireless service wasn?t up yet, so I wandered the 16th Street Mall listening for hits. Net Stumbler located plenty of piggyback options but then I spotted another Starbucks with signage proclaiming it to be a ?T Mobile HotSpot?.

Sure enough it captures the wireless card and refuses to budge until I sign up for service, keeping my Eudora icon as a spinning hostage until I cough up the cash. Not a problem. I have a brochure that promises a 24-hour free ride as long as I type in the right promotional code. Problem: the database isn?t working. But what a surprise -- I have absolutely no trouble at all if I?m willing to pay on the front end. Not quite ready to commit to an annual contract -- it?s only our first date -- I try the pay-as-you-go approach -- $2.99 for the first 15 minutes and 25 cents a minute after that. I get a 6 mbps connection outside and 11 mbps when I move in to escape Starbucks staffers smoking on break. Can?t send e-mail. Three doors down at the Egg Shell Caf?, they have great eggs but no wireless. I can cope now that I?ve been able to get some work done.

Hours later I set up shop at Denver International Airport, a victim of check-in times that American Airlines changes from airport to airport. I?ve heard that Terminal B is wireless so with hours to spare head there instead of the American terminal. Terminal B is the first wave of the DIA Wireless Experiment. Sitting at a booth in the Qwest Business Center, I booted up and saw green -- a good connection -- right away. It?s 6 mbps but that?s more than enough for me to watch some video clips and do other tasks that aren?t usually worth the time on ISDN and rarely, if ever, on dial up. Even better, it?s free. Move to a sports bar down the terminal. Still have a good connection but sending e-mail is a no-go. The support line says that option hasn?t been activated yet.

Move to another terminal and the green light shines again. This time it?s not free -- AT&T Wireless wants $9.99 for a 24-hour pass. This time I have to sign up with Qpass. A little clock pops up. What AT&T doesn?t put in big print is that the service doesn?t work anywhere but DIA, rendering a 24-hour-pass close to meaningless. And, even worse, still no ability to send e-mail. Eager to market its other wireless services, AT&T sends users straight to the wireless front page. At no point in the process was I asked if I am an AT&T Wireless customer already or offered any incentive. Clearly, a trial in its infancy.  I hope.

As much as free access appeals to me, at this point I?d be willing to pay in certain circumstances (a true two-way connection and a reasonable price would be a good start) for easy access through a national network. So far neither of the pay options I tried are worth a subscription but once the programs are tweaked that should change.

Was it worth the fuss?

If I were a traditional business traveler, I might have shrugged and decided to wait until it?s ready for prime time. For me, it was worth it. Not just because I could get work done or get a column out of it but because of the potential it held. When my screen came up at Starbucks, I envisioned local partnerships with media outlets or city portals that would put their content on the start screen. In Aspen local media outlets could be meeting points for WiFi users online and as possible sponsors of WiFi service in coffeehouses or cafes.

Driving down a highway with a cheap wireless transmitter sending the signals from my mini-disc player to the FM receiver in a rental car works most of the time.  But I would be much more likely to subscribe to a music service if I could get it anywhere and not just when I?m at home. Any Internet content subscription would be made infinitely more usable if it were truly portable.

Yes, there are lots of kinks to work out. But given the response I had from people as I traveled last week and the way I feel now that I?m in wireless no-persons-land unable to even get a connection at Starbucks, I?m convinced it?s worth the effort. Next stop: WiFi-enabling my PDA.