Cool Thing: Brammo Engage Electric Motorcycle

I totally dig the line of electric motorcycles by Brammo, but the Engage is my favorite. This Batman supermoto has gears!

What it doesn’t have is a loud exhaust, a gas tank, or oil. Listen to the sound of it, if you can hear it. It’s darn quiet. In fact, it sounds like a remote controlled electric car.

The worst thing about the Engage SMS is that it costs $10,555. That and who likes the silver battery box in the belly of the bike? Nobody, but we’d all cope if we had one…

Mountain Bikers in the Parks Are Not Bicycle Commuters

On a walk through Forest Park in Portland, Oregon, I was nearly run over by some downhill mountain bikers. They were flying down the trails with such force that had they hit me I’m sure someone would have broken a few bones and torn some flesh. It was scary and frustrating but I don’t hate all bicyclists as a result.

I’ve heard people call into radio shows and say that they’ve almost been run over by bikes in their local park. It’s easy to want to demonize all cyclists and think of those on their full suspension rides as being the same people who are trudging along to work on a Monday morning in the rain but chances are they’re completely different class of rider.

The people who blow by you on park paths on their mountain bikes are often weekend warriors who drive to the park with their bike strapped to the bike rack of their car. They don’t walk or bike in traffic and so they have no idea how alarming it is to have a vehicle blow past you by six inches at high speeds.

Imagine, walkers who have nearly been hit, if this happened to you all the time. Imagine if these bikers blew by you on your way to work, on your way to the supermarket, and on your way home. After a while, you might start to get angry. You might even lash out. That’s what it is like to be a bicycle commuter.

A bicycle commuter who is on the streets regularly—even if they completely follow the rules of the road—will nearly get hit and harassed more than they’d care to accept.

I consider myself a decent rider, one that doesn’t give the finger or curse at cagers. I wear a helmet and use lights at night. I still get harassed. From folks who like to drive as close to you as they can to those who scream out the passenger side window for kicks as they pass, it definitely gets old.

So basically what I’m saying is this: Please don’t ever drive close to bicyclists. The downhill mountain bikers who got too close to you on the path at the park are not the same people who are bike commuting to and from work on the road.

Cool Thing: Smart ForUs

I totally dig the Smart ForUs concept truck. It’s reminiscent of the Subaru Brat, only this version is completely electric. It’s is said to be able to go from zero to 60 mph in 5 seconds, but then it tops out at 80 mph. Who needs to go more than 80 mph?

Since it’s just a concept, they don’t explain if there’s going to be a wall behind the seats or if you’re always exposed to the elements. I’m also not clear on where the top gets stored, but perhaps it goes under the trunk bed similar to the old Honda Del Sol roof system.

One thing that Smart made clear is that the trunk/bed area has an electrical charger so you can slide your Smart brand electric bikes into the back and charge them while on you’re on your way to the trail. It’s pretty obvious that’s a gimmick for the discussion factor of the concept vehicle. I don’t ride an electric bike and wouldn’t care to get one as part of the Smart ForUs purchase package.

I’m not big on the yellow superhero-styled interior of the concept, but that kind of thing usually gets toned down in production. What I like most are the beefy tires, the tough look, the smiley face grill, and the idea of having something small, yet utilitarian. However, my guess is that this vehicle will never see mass production. On the car forums I’ve seen discussing the ForUs, drivers (males it seemed) all made fun of the car for being too small—and for being a Smart. Everyone is afraid of being crushed by a renegade Ford Expedition.

Minds might change if this were a gas powered vehicle with a bit more horse power and a five-on-the-floor manual stick shift. Either Smart will have to wait until electric cars become the norm or they’ll have to rename it the Smart ForEU.

About the BP Protest Ride

Portland → Port Townsend : Aug. 15 - 20, 2010
Port Townsend → Portland : Aug. 28 - Sept. 3, 2010

The BP oil spill has negatively effected our world and I wanted to do something about it, but could I make a difference?

In 2010 I rode my bike round-trip from Portland to Port Townsend to protest the BP oil spill, to discover what it means to be green, and to see if it is possible (and worthwhile) to go beyond petroleum.

Going to School

Fall of 2010 was my last semester as an art student at Goddard College. That means I had to go to Port Townsend, Washington for a week-long residency and then return home to Portland, Oregon. In the past, I carpooled or took public transportation to get there. In direct response to and in protest against BP, I rode my bike round-trip and documented the journey in this blog/website.

Going the Distance

According to Google maps, it’s 225 miles each way. This route is a mixture of highly trafficked roads and less populated ones. It is roughly the distance from New York City to Boston and will take a few hours by car or a few days by bike (traveling at a pace slow enough to take pictures and talk to people).

The BP Protest Ride category of this blog documents the adventure.

Ride Home, Day 4: Longview to Portland

It was raining when I woke up in Longview, Washington.

I left late and ate breakfast at a local health food cafe to kill some time while hoping that the rain would let up. It didn’t. I hit the street at 11:30 AM.

My camera stayed safe and dry in a plastic bag inside my backpack. My backpack stayed dry inside a plastic bag of its own.

I crossed the Lewis and Clark Bridge into Oregon by riding my bike on the shoulder, which was covered in rich smelling cedar wood chips. Perhaps a truck spilled them. The cars drive pretty slow on the bridge because the passage is so narrow. I wondered why the people who designed the bridge never thought to include a bicycle lane or pedestrian walkway.

On the Oregon side, a hiker walking with two walking sticks and a large backpack stopped me to ask about crossing the bridge on foot. I told him he could make it if he was careful. We parted ways.

Route 30 from Mt. Rainier to Portland consists mostly of a constant upward incline or else it’s flat. Mostly however, it’s uphill.

It rained relentlessly during the first three hours. The cold wind, misty spray from passing trucks and strong headwinds really tested my resolve. When my left arm grew weak and my fingers started going numb, I began to question if I’d make it the whole way home. It was hard to tell if the rain had soaked through my raincoat or if I had sweat through to the rain.

I sang songs in my head and took it moment by moment. Each time I turned the pedals it brought me that much closer to home. Eventually I began singing songs out loud.

When I’d get to the top of a hill and round the bend only to find another hill to climb, I’d laugh at the sky. Ha! Hills from Portland to Port Townsend now know my name and they tremble when they see me coming.

At some point the rain let up and the temperature warmed slightly. Good thing. I had begun to grow cold. Knowing that I’d be able to sleep in my own bed kept me moving.

I took out my camera after it hadn’t rained in a while. I was covered in grit and wet but my camera was dry.

My legs certainly were tired. I rode 75 miles the day before, 50 the day before that and 40 the day before that.

Still, the hills couldn’t stop me!

Finally, I saw the sign for Portland. About an hour to go.

Ten miles of slow incline.

Every time it looked like I was able to coast I’d stop pedaling and the bike would stop. The wind was pushing me back. The rain had soaked me to the bone. The hills were trying to get me. It was as if BP was controlling the weather.

I knew where I was and it wasn’t far from home.

It had warmed up and I was on familiar streets. I was nearly there, limp arm and all.

Portland began to welcome me.

I saw things anew and noticed things never before seen.

The bridge to Front Street was the last hill I’d have to climb.

I slid into the Pearl District by way of 17th street and was home at 4 PM.

It was so good to see Gwenn! She took some pictures before we went inside.

I did it! I rode 450+ miles round-trip to protest the BP oil disaster.

I didn’t spend a cent on gasoline or car insurance.

It took five days to get to Port Townsend and four days to get back to Portland. Going home is always faster.

I learned a lot and have many more questions and ideas. My legs are tired and my resolve is strong. 

The road is long, life is short.

I’ll be writing a summary of this experience (including a more detailed budget analysis) and more about cars, bicycles, oil, and living green in the comings days.