Some products fall down on the job—literally!

Overlooking the most mundane design details can significantly hurt a product. Recently, I've been using Omron's HJ-112 pedometer (Picture) and the Pharos EZ Road GPS (global-positioning system), and both dubiously illustrate the point.

EZ Road isn't so easy when it comes to staying put. The unit includes both a suction-cup bracket that promises to secure it to the dashboard and clips that alternatively affix it to the air-conditioning vents. The suction-cup bracket is no good in my vehicle, because the dash has no smooth surface for an airtight bond other than the windshield, which, for obvious reasons, I do not want to obscure in any way. The clips, which the documentation annoyingly omits, are flimsy, causing the unit to frequently fall off the vent when you touch the unit.

I'm amazed that the Pharos folks, better known for piggybacking GPS on cell phones and PDAs, didn't figure out that a couple of small strips of Velcro tape would more than suffice (Link 1). As for the GPS unit, it works fairly well, but such automobile GPS add-ons have a long way to go before they qualify as polished products. My advice: Make an add-on seem as little as possible like an add-on, because the cockpit quickly becomes cluttered.

The 3.5-in., transreflective, 320×240-pixel LCD is decent, but you wonder whether its size, glare, and very existence next to the driver don't represent yet more dangerous distractions. After all, GPS often requires studying, as opposed to taking a quick glance at, what's on the display. Not surprisingly, traffic-law disclaimers and such load up the first page of the documentation. Drivers and passengers can also get in the way of the unit's display.

The touch-sensitive screen works accurately using the stylus or a finger, which is convenient while you're driving. The basic GPS functions, which are based on an SiRF Technology chip set, worked flawlessly (Link 2).

But the software you use to enter destinations and points of origin to create routes is a circular maze of frustration. The documentation isn't much help, although, I confess, I prefer to learn to use such devices by trial and error. The maps initially reside on a CD, and you must download them from a PC into the autoresident unit by means of a USB 1.1 port, which is slow. The unit, which is based on a 300-MHz Intel XScale PXA255 ARM microprocessor, comes with a scrawny 128-Mbyte secure-digital-memory card, which holds about five maps (Link 3). (The Boston area is one map, for instance.)

I had fun with this loaner product from Pharos and would urge any potential buyer to read additional reviews, in addition to my brief appraisal, before shelling out $500 (Link 4). My beef isn't so much with the electronics or even with the funky software but with the mechanism that holds the unit in place.

The Omron HJ-112 walking-style pedometer suffers from similar problems. Bending forces the belt clip to snap off. In fact, I've already lost one for this reason.

Still, as a daily walker, I love this simple, yet powerful, gadget, which measures total and aerobic steps, distance, and the calories you burn. It also keeps a running record for each of the previous seven days. (In the office, I average 5000 to 9000 steps; on weekends, I average 12,000 to 15,000.)

The unit is a nifty motivator, taking some of the humdrum out of my strolls (Link 5). And although I cannot swear to its distance accuracy (inches per stride times steps), my sense is that it's close. However, some reviews claim that the HJ-112 overestimates steps (Link 6). I'll take those additional steps.

All manner of walking pedometers, speedometers, and odometers abound, including those with GPS if you happen to get lost a lot (Link 7). But designers should first figure out how to get such gadgets to stay put. That would be one giant stride.