What It Feels Like to Write Scraping Code and Collect Online Public Data

The initial spark is an almost electric assurance that the dataset is out there, just waiting to be enticed free.

You're already walking around the architecture in your head:

“… If this website uses a CDN, the product pages should rely on predictable IDs, unless a search-backed API conceals them…”

Ten theories blossom from that one idea, each spreading out like pyrotechnics in the brain. Instead of hitting, the caffeine fuses with the adrenaline, opening up a world of potential backdoors.

You become in the flow. You and a series of terminal windows are the only things left in the room as it fades. Put together a stub crawler. Start by pinging the headers. Interestingly, the origin server reports "nginx/1.24"—presumably typical rewrites.

You visualize load balancers and racks of machines balancing your requests, and you test that mental model by launching a few probes. 403. You have successfully launched half of them. That means the other half went through, which is perfect. There is proof that you are heading in the right direction.

The rhythm now takes control. Test, question, improve, and repeat.

What if /graphql is where the catalog API resides? 

Not at all. /v2/product?sku=
 !!!bingo!!! JSON .... it was worth trying. 

Like a drumbeat, each small win fills your veins, and you strive for the next one before the echo subsides.

With multiprocessing workers hammering timpani in the cloud, rotating proxies for the violins, and async queues for the brass, you're creating a symphony on the go. Like sheet music, logs flow by, line after line either supporting or contradicting each new notion.

There is only momentum and no sting when a hypothesis fails. Failure reduces the scope of the search; the next concept emerges before the previous one has had time to cool.

With your eyes darting between network graphs that only exist in your imagination and stack traces, you're three steps ahead. Hours pass.

You hardly notice as the light outside changes from afternoon gold to midnight blue. Next comes the crest: the moment the last puzzle piece falls. As the crawler settles down, the API starts to sing, and the data starts to pour in

…… millions of rows moving into storage with the smooth elegance of water leveling out. 

The buzz in your head stops in that moment.

You release your breath without noticing that you were holding it.

You lean back, watch the progress bar reach 100%, and feel a smile spread as the adrenaline calms into a warm hum.

Not only did you extract the data, but you also deciphered the site's entire secret logic and converted it into code that runs like a well-tuned engine.

That's the state: alive, timeless, and intensely concentrated. You were orchestrating an orchestra of theories rather than composing a script, with each note becoming more accurate until the entire thing resolves into a single, unstoppable melody of data. And you're already eager for the next move when it's finished.