Ira Hayes was never comfortable with his fame and invitations to the White House, feeling guilt over surviving the war when so many of his comrades didn’t (only five of his platoon of 45 survived, and three of the six men in the photo were killed only days after it was taken), and he died tragically at the young age of 32 in 1955. He nonetheless remains a hero to the nation and especially to the Pima community. His hometown of Sacaton and the Ira H. Hayes American Legion Post 84 honor him and all veterans with an annual parade every February to celebrate the anniversary of the Iwo Jima flag-raising.

What do I have to do with any of this? My old acquaintance and riding buddy Orvan (you knew there had to be a motorcycling connection, didn’t you?), who I hadn’t seen in at least 6 years, invited me along on a ride to Sacaton this past weekend that he and his riding group, the Hemajkam Riders, which includes many military veterans among its members, have been doing for several years. I was expecting merely a pleasant ride along some reservation back roads. Little did I know that I would get much more.

We met at a hotel in Ahwatukee at 6 am Saturday for breakfast before starting the ride. Most riders had travelled here the day before; some from Tucson, others from as far away as Window Rock in northeastern Arizona. After a surprisingly decent $4 breakfast, we saddled up and headed to Sacaton, taking a combination of interstate and lightly-travelled back roads. Upon arriving at the Sacaton Middle School,

I was amazed at the number and variety of people, uniforms, vehicles, and flags present in the area.




It turned out that we were in the staging grounds for the parade. Not only that, but we were participants in the parade as well!

There were many different groups present, some from as far away as Canada, so we had to wait for the parade to actually begin moving past the first spectators, about half a mile away, before our position in the procession came near so we could insert ourselves into the stream of parade participants. The kick-off to the parade was signaled at 8:45 am by a flyover by a B-17 bomber and a fighter aircraft of similar vintage that I couldn’t identify (P-51?), which both made several passes. Beautiful aircraft.

There were several other veterans groups there on motorcycles, including the Buffalo Soldiers Motorcycle Club, who provided their own patriotic music.

I felt a bit out of place, not only for not being a veteran (a recruiter years ago rejected me for being on medication for asthma), but also for being the only sportbike rider present! (Can you sing “One of these things is not like the others”?) However, the Hemajkam Riders were very gracious and welcoming (just a few of them shown below).

We eventually inched our way past about a mile and a half of cheering, waving spectators

before ending at the Mathew B. Juan / Ira H. Hayes Park in Sacaton, site of memorials to Ira Hayes

and Lori Piestewa, the first Native American woman to die in combat while serving with the U.S. military.

There were supposed to be several speeches and a lunch at the park, but due to a dust storm that had been worsening throughout the parade, the outdoor ceremonies were limited to a few very brief speeches and the raising of the flag, accompanied by the singing of the national anthem by a local children’s choir. I believe it may have been sung in the Pima language - it took me a few seconds to recognize it and raise my hand to my heart! Of course, the vast majority of those present would have understood it instantly - we were on the reservation, after all.

The remaining ceremonies - lunch, lengthier speeches, and a raffle drawing by the Hemajkam Riders - were moved to the nearby Boys & Girls Club. Lunch was an enjoyable traditional fry bread with refried beans, beef, lettuce, and tomato. While some of the speeches were lengthy, there were definitely moving portions.

The event wrapped up a little after 1 pm. I bid my farewell to Orv, his wife Reyna, and several of the Hemajkam Riders I had met that day, then got back on my bike and followed a few of the other Hemajkam Riders back to the main road in what was now a blinding dust storm. Within minutes the storm turned to such pelting rain that I stopped to put on my rain suit before getting on the interstate. I arrived home surprisingly dry, or to be more specific, at least no wetter than when I put on the rainsuit (kudos Teknic 1-piece!), and the official American Legion Post 84 cap given to me by Orv just before I left was amazingly clean and dry too (kudos Cycle Guys FastPack!).

I am very grateful to Orvan and the other members of the Hemajkam Riders for letting me be a part of their activities that day, which prompted me to learn more about Ira Hamilton Hayes. In the more than 14 years I’ve lived in the Phoenix area, I had been to Sacaton before but had no idea of the important role in history of one of its residents, or of the annual parade to honor him. It was a privilege to find out this way.

(Additional photos on Flickr)

Why Chinese mothers are superior

The title of the excerpt, as well as the book itself, seems to have been written with the express intention of provoking extreme reactions, and it seems to have succeeded very well in that. The interesting thing is that if this book had been written by an author of a different race, it would have been dismissed out of hand as an inflammatory piece of racist stereotyping. Perhaps the parents on rantlust would like to comment.

But what I am also excited about is that the soundtrack is done by the Parisian Electronic music duo Daft Punk. Check out their music video for the song Derezzed:

I received yesterday an Amazon email saying that since I had bought Sudaka then I should take a look at this newly released album from the Baden Powell Trio: The Frankfurt Opera Concert. The album was recored live at The Frankfurt Opera House back in 1975. As usual it had nothing to do with the Sudaka album, with the obvious exception that both (Baden Powell and Ramiro Musotto) are Brazilians.

Having said that, maybe Amazon does have a different way of associating products because indeed I loved the album. It literally blew me away. At this point I’ve heard the album at least 5 times. It’s been playing in my iTunes ever since I bought it. Almost every track is worth listening to. It reminded me at the feeling I got when I heard Rodrigo and Gabriela’s first album: unexpected, engaging and overall fantastic.

The opening “Valsa Da Euridice” is the perfect opening. Transitioning with “Asa Branca” and the melancholic “Samba Triste”. “Pescador” is absolutely beautiful. The acoustic bass in “Berceuse” is brilliant. The solo guitar in the first four minutes of “Variacao Sobre Canto de Ossanha” are just unbelievable.

This is an studio version of: “Canto de Ossanha” in youtube… enjoy!

Atrocious! Right? The article ends with a petition for the school officials and their contact information.

However, a careful read of the facts laid out in that very article paints a different picture.

In the article it says that the cheer-or-get-out incident happened when:

[the accused rapist] had been allowed back on campus during a brief period when one grand jury withdrew the charges before another grand jury reinstated them.

So what seems to have happened is: Cheerleader accuses boy of rape. Boy is not allowed on campus anymore by school. Normal criminal procedure follows. Grand jury does not find a case to go to trial. School assumes everything is back to normal and allows boy back on campus and on team. School expects cheerleader to cheer. She refuses. She’s kicked out of the cheerleader team.

Eventually, it turned out that the guy was tried for rape again and plead guilty, but surely no one expects the school officials to know the future. Sure, we now know that the guy is a convicted rapist who assaulted the girl. But how do you expect the school officials to know that after one grand jury has looked at case and withdrawn charges that there will be another grand jury which will reinstate them?

Even if one holds the very unreasonable position of guilty-until-proven innocent, in this case our legal process had declared the guy innocent at the time the incident happened. Which means that the only case one can have against the school officials for enforcing that a cheerleader cheer or quit is if you believe that any accusation of rape must permanently be taken as true, even after our legal process deems the accusation to be without merit.

Sadly this is precisely the position some feminists take towards rape accusations. However, I would like to humbly submit that equal-rights-for-women, or any form of any rights whatsoever, can only exist in the framework of an orderly society that functions according to some rules and norms of fairness and due process.

Rape is a serious matter. Which automatically makes an accusation of rape a serious matter. There are societies where severe social (and often even criminal) sanctions are placed on people based on mere accusations. Most reasonable people label these societies as oppressive. Is that really the kind of society we want for ourselves? If a behavior / social attitude is stupid if justified by a religious motivation, surely it is equally stupid if justified by a feminist motivation.

So, by all means, beat up on the school officials if they continue to insist that she cheer her (now convicted) rapist. Beat them up for implying the she keep a low profile after she made the accusation. But its just not fair to beat up on them for asking her to perform her duties as a cheerleader in that particular incident. They did exactly the right thing.

One could have a “big” government, that has high tax rates and spends a lot on various socio-economic programs. Or one could have a “small” government, which taxes little and does little. Depending on one’s ideal vision of society, one alternative can be better that the other. However, most folks would agree that it doesn’t make sense to have a government that is small in terms of its tax collection, but big in terms of its spending. Unfortunately, in the US, the political reality is that the only part of government that one can cut is the tax collection. So let us, for now, concentrate only on the right way to cut tax revenue.

To cut tax revenue, we need to cut collection (tax cuts) or refund “excessive” taxes that were collected (tax credits). The issue that then crops us is how to distribute these cuts or credits across various income segments.

A core part of the Republican ideology is the trickle down theory, which essentially states that a dollar in the hands of businesses and the wealthy “trickles down” to the other segments of society and thereby benefits society as a whole. This theory gained popularity and effective political voice in the Regan era.

The response to this argument is many-fold, but I’d like to separate out 3 types or responses:

1. It doesn’t work. The argument goes that the rich will invest the money while the poor will spend it right away. A dollar spent goes straight into the economy.
2. It works, but its not the best way to use the money.
3. Its bad morality. Government should help remove income inequality in order to form a more just society. It should be helping the poor with services / taxing the rich to pay for the services.

I’ll leave the 3rd reason out of discussion since that is purely one of individual preference.

Its true that the wealthy have less need to spend and a lot of incentive to invest the extra money. But that does not in itself mean that this money is not helping the economy as a whole. A rich person or business with an extra 100 dollars is essentially going to be looking for a way to increase that money to, say, $105 — no one really wants to keep their money sitting idle. They could do so by starting a new business: providing society with jobs and possibly a useful product or service, and reaping the profits from this business. Or they could do this by investing in something: loaning it out, buying bonds, stocks, etc. In these cases, the money serves as capital to someone who will be trying to take the $100 and making $110 out of it, so they can return the required $105 and keep the difference. This stimulates the economy. Including providing work (i.e. wages) to a segment of society.

There is an economic debate to be had about whether or not we could have provided more benefit to society by giving the same $100 to the poor or the middle-class. But that is a complex economic argument that I don’t have the intellectual capacity to judge. Instead, I’d like to point out that the crux of the trickle down theory relies on the benefit accrued via investments made by the the rich and businesses.

When Regan came to power in 1981, large parts of the world were walled off to foreign capital thanks to the direct and indirect influences of communism. China, currently the 2nd largest economy in the world, was mostly walled off to outside capital. India, though not formally a communist state, borrowed many of its economic ideas from the communist world and was outright hostile to foreign capital (India was on a drive to nationalize large companies and e.g. had just driven coca-cola out). Brazil was under military rule. The combined GDPs of China, India and Brazil were less than that of France. The combined GDPs of the 2nd, 3rd and 4th richest nations in the world then (Japan, Germany and France, respectively) were less than that of the US. China and India were nowhere close to being the manufacturing and service outsourcing powerhouses that they now are.

Today, China, India and Brazil are probably the 3 most fascinating growth stories, having grown more than the western economies for the last several years. And this doesn’t take into account the south Asian nations, many of whom are wealthier (per-capita) than these 3. China is well renowned for its manufacturing expertise — to the extent that it is currently inconceivable for anyone to set up a large labor intensive manufacturing operation anywhere in the US in certain industries (what do you think is the chance that Nike is going to open its next shoe factory in the US?). At the same time, the US economy is (by the most recent estimates) growing at less than 1%, while western Europe and Japan are about the same or worse.

In other words, if a sensible person had money to invest in 1981, they would almost certainly invest at least a large portion of it in the USA. If a business wanted to start a new factory, or call-center, they would be stupid to not think of USA first. Today, the situation is very different. Most CEOs who wanted to set up a new large manufacturing plan in the US would be looking at a very hostile board meeting. Every company today needs to have an outsourcing story. Foreign capital owns large portions of “American” companies and practically any American company has large portions of their workforce outside the US.

More likely than not, these “emerging markets” are going to be more profitable investment decisions than the west. In this environment, handing money to rich folks is essentially a way of ensuring that a good portion of this money is leaving the US. Similarly, a sizable chunk of money handed to businesses is also going to go towards creating jobs and thereby stimulating the economy — of other countries.

Whether or not it is the governments job to take its citizen’s money and try to help the economy, surely it is not the government’s job to take it’s citizen’s money and help the economy of other countries.

However, his solution of trade wars and protectionism in not as impressive as his diagnosis of the problem. Here’s a rebuttal.

Taking just half a vacation day, my friend Derek and I left Phoenix early Friday afternoon on March 26th.
(All images are clickable for larger versions)


Heading northwest, we enjoyed plentiful views of desert wildflowers nurtured by the abnormally abundant recent rains, and stopped at the Mecca Cantina in Wickenburg for lunch.


If there was any religious aspect to this place, it was that their deep-fried calzones were brimming with absolutely heavenly molten mozzarella. We continued about 70 miles to Wikieup, where we stopped for fuel (the first gas station on this route after Wickenburg; MapQuest’s gas station locator is pretty accurate here), and then roughly 50 miles to Kingman, where we stopped at a Wal-Mart to pick up a few items. It was dusk by the time we departed Kingman, so for the next 90 or so miles we enjoyed views of mountain silhouettes against rapidly darkening skies.

At the Hoover Dam, traffic slowed but not nearly as badly as expected (I’ve experienced hour-plus delays in the past). At the security checkpoint, most vehicles were stopped momentarily, but we on our bikes were waved right through; I suppose one couldn’t hide enough explosives on a bike to do much damage (and despite my appearance I have no interest in finding out). We stopped at an overlook to view the dam and were stunned by the low water level in Lake Mead; from previous separate visits we both recalled the water level being – without exaggerating – at least 100 feet higher. Note that the last times either of us had viewed the water level was 10-11 years ago. On a more positive note, construction of the bypass bridge was well underway; on my last trip across the dam in 2006 (in a car, and I didn’t stop to look at the water), only the approaches to the then-not-yet-built ramps were visible. Now the ramps and most of the span seemed to be complete (no good photos due to it being dark). The bridge is expected to open to traffic in Q4 of this year.

After crossing the dam, we made our way to the Fiesta Henderson hotel-casino, where I had made a reservation. My two friends from high school who live in Henderson and who I hadn’t seen in two years, Jenny and Kim, were already impatiently waiting for us to arrive. Originally I had planned to meet them much earlier for dinner, but I had forgotten that travelling 300 miles by bike can take a lot longer than by car (if you’re not a speeder) due to extra stops for gas, stretching, taking in the scenery, etc. During our stop in Kingman earlier, I had called them to recommend they go ahead and eat without us. By the time we finally met, they had not only already eaten but had a head start on libations too. Unfortunately, we couldn’t socialize for too long since both of them had plans with their families early the next morning. We nonetheless were able to catch up on each other’s lives a little bit and it was great to see them.

The next morning Derek and I each enjoyed a $3.99 Grand Slam breakfast at Denny’s before escaping the Las Vegas area’s concrete jungle.

People who live in Vegas probably have no problem navigating the city’s numerous freeways, but I found them extremely confusing for the route we needed to take. To get to highway 160 east to Death Valley via the town of Pahrump, we inferred from our maps that we’d need to take several different freeways heading five to ten miles south, then quite a bit north, which seemed like a lot of unnecessary travel. My GPS, which had frustrated me earlier by inexplicably not having “Death Valley” nor “Death Valley National Park” listed as a point of interest, came to the rescue when I punched in the city of “Pahrump” and ‘fastest route’, taking us on a much more direct route mostly along interstate 215 to highway 160.

Nevada’s route 160 itself is scenic, especially approaching the Spring Mountains just west of Vegas, but the morning temperatures, around 50°F when we left Henderson, dipped into the 40’s as we climbed to the pass through said mountains.

Of course, neither of us had brought winter gear along (“Death Valley will be hot in April” we had been told by our car-driving friends…), so the wind-chill was especially noticeable. We soldiered on to Pahrump where we made an extended gas stop to have a coffee and thaw out, and where the temperatures had risen into the 60’s. While waiting, we were amused to see a billboard for an adult establishment directly facing one for a pre-school. Underway again, we turned left onto Bell Vista Rd north of Pahrump and enjoyed a very scenic drive along this not-too-heavily travelled back road. Just past the Ash Meadows National Wildlife Refuge, we stopped to take pictures of the very whitish desert floor, and were rewarded with an up-close view of a dust devil crossing the road.

(Above image courtesy MapQuest)

Finally entering Death Valley, we turned left to get to our first stop at the end of a terrifically winding narrow mountain road: Dante’s View – the highest point in the park accessible by vehicle, and more than a mile above the desert floor. We lingered here for a while, taking in the amazing views of the Panamint Range across from us, and the salt deposits of Badwater Basin beneath us.

The latter was our next destination, though after making our way back to the main road (CA 190) and enjoying some of its sweepers, we decided to first stop at the Furnace Creek Inn for lunch. Service was a little slow due to the large number of diners, but the food was good, though not nearly as inexpensive as our breakfasts. Back on the road, we enjoyed more broad sweepers before arriving at Badwater Basin, at -282 feet the lowest point in the western hemisphere and completely overrun with tourists. Determined to get a few pictures showing a bit more isolation, we walked out beyond the rest of the crowds to snap a few.



By the time we got back to the parking lot, the thermometers on our bikes indicated over 100° – vindicating our cage-driving friends – so we were eager to get moving again. Heading back towards Furnace Creek, we allowed ourselves the detour of Artist’s Drive, which turned out to be the unexpected highlight of the trip. This 9 mile one-way loop rises up into the Amargosa Range and offers incredible views along with fantastic second-gear twisties, dips, and switchbacks. The only reasons why I didn’t take photos of the twisty bits are because I didn’t want to stop and I didn’t dare remove a hand from the handlebars!

We continued past Furnace Creek to the nearest gas station; one of allegedly only three in the whole park. We were told it was the only one that sold premium, and that too at a premium: $4.29/gallon, compared to $2.79 in Phoenix, or even $3.19 in Nevada. Since beggars can’t be choosers, we filled up, then made our way to Stovepipe Wells to see whatever we could there before it got dark. Along the way, we crossed sea level and saw sand dunes.


At Stovepipe Wells Village, we stopped at the gift store to buy souvenirs, then crossed the street to enter the Badwater Saloon for a well-deserved ice-cold beer.


Just one beer since we still had to get to our hotel in Beatty, NV, outside the park, but it was nice to relax and unwind a bit while recounting everything we had experienced that day. After enjoying the beer and several glasses of water (and making use of the facilities, naturally), we strolled back out to the bikes at dusk.


A young man nearby paused from driving remote controlled cars with his son to strike up a conversation with us. It turns out he’s a motorcyclist from Canada (Mud Lightspeed on Advrider) who had in the past ridden his Triumph Scrambler up the Dempster Highway to the Arctic. We ended up talking about bikes and motorcycle touring for quite a while as the light faded – if you ride, you’ll understand. Regretfully saying our farewells, Derek and I began the last leg of the day, on still more beautifully curving and ascending mountain roads.

As night fell, so did the temperatures, especially as the elevation increased (Beatty is over 3,300 feet above sea level) – by the time we got to our hotel it was back in the 40’s. Luckily we had a reservation for what turned out to be not only the last room in the hotel, but the last room in town; while we were checking in, several other travelers were turned away while the clerk phoned other properties to no avail. While I’m grateful we had a room, it was unfortunately a smoking room that really played havoc on our non-smokers’ lungs. Derek suspects that as the hotel filled up, they merely had to honor a room reservation but not a smoking/non-smoking request, and thus gave our non-smoking room to another guest who checked in earlier. Next time I’ll call the property the day of arrival to confirm a non-smoking room.

After unloading the bikes, we ambled to the nearby casino to… no, not gamble, but get dinner. However, their restaurant was woefully unprepared for the onslaught of travelers seeking to dine that night. While the service was pleasant, it took a long time to get seated, and even longer to get our merely adequate food after we ordered (recommendation: have dinner in the park before it gets too late). On the plus side, we had time for a few more beers before our food arrived – hey, we were done riding for the day! Walking back to the hotel, we were amazed at the number of bikes in the parking lot. All day, we had seen tons of bikes in the park, which was not surprising, considering how absolutely perfect for motorcycling Death Valley is. What did surprise us were the masses of dual-sport/dirt bikes, which outnumbered even cruisers, the next-most popular category. Speaking to one of their riders, I found out that most of them had travelled here for a multi-day off-road rally (some from as far away as the San Francisco Bay area). According to him, the route seemed to favor lighter bikes; he had gotten stuck and fallen over several times that day on his 1200cc BMW in the loose sand-like gravel in this area.

The next morning we awoke to clear, sunny skies and temperatures in the 40’s, which didn’t feel so bad in the bright sunshine. Derek made the wise suggestion to get breakfast somewhere along the way rather than deal with the long wait at the casino restaurant, given the hordes of travelers in town. We grabbed a coffee at the Death Valley Nut & Candy Company between the hotel and the casino while warming up the bikes (the overnight low had been 34°, and my bike had only barely started, so I didn’t want to risk stalling it before it had fully warmed up).

We set off on US 95 heading south towards Amargosa Valley, about 30 miles away. Along the way we enjoyed great views of the mountain ranges and ridges on either side of us as the sun rose to the east.



Approaching Amargosa Valley, we were disappointed to see it was little more than just a pair of gas stations at a junction with another road, and the few western-style storefronts behind them were closed. Not sure why this “town” was even on the map, though MapQuest may have been wrong; the map Derek got at the park showed Amargosa Valley being a few miles south of the junction on NV 373. Since that was not along our route, we continued on US 95 until we finally got to a proper town: Indian Springs, on the southern edge of Nellis Air Force range and home to the apparently dormant Cheech AFB – no sign of smoke or any other activity anywhere. We pulled into the Indian Springs Casino parking lot, and after traveling over 70 miles on empty stomachs we were very receptive to their $5.99 steak and eggs offer.

After fueling ourselves and our bikes, we continued through Las Vegas to Boulder City, planning to take the Hoover Dam again, but found the “Dam” midday weekend traffic already backing up with 10 miles still to go. Not wanting to deal with that length of stop-and-go traffic in what was now 90° heat, we decided to take US 95 south, then NV 163 east to Laughlin and Bullhead City, from where we could take AZ 68 to Kingman. This turned out to be an enjoyable route, with little-to-moderate traffic, nice scenery, and a few 55 mph (posted…) mountain sweepers. From Kingman, we retraced our route back to Phoenix – with a quick break at a different Wickenburg café – and called it a weekend.

In two and a half days, we covered over 1000 miles (1600 km), over 60 degrees of Fahrenheit temperature changes (a 33°C span), and over 5700 feet (1700 m) of elevation changes – a highly memorable ride. However, we really only scratched the surface of what Death Valley has to offer motorcyclists - or anyone who enjoys curvy, scenic roads. To quote a resident of the state that’s home to Death Valley, “I’ll be back!”

(Note: more pics from the trip will be added to my Flickr photoset in due time)

Estimates of the size of the porn industry vary widely. But really, does size matter? The mere existence of the porn industry, or any form of porn for that matter, is evidence of social malaise to some. Different folks attribute different diagnoses to the phenomenon — from moral depravity to gender exploitation.

Of course, I have my own opinions on this. But I’d like to get your collective opinions instead. I’ll gather the interesting comments from down below and thread them into a coherent conversation on this main space. Any and all comments are welcome, anonymously posted or otherwise. You can feel as free to offer an opinion as a studied thesis (of course, the thesis carries more weight with me ).

I know that the registered bloggers on this site are mostly male. I’m hoping the lurking ladies will make up for any gender imbalance in perspective.

Here is an incomplete list to get you started:

1. Is porn an “evil” in and of itself? Even if it isn’t, does it lead to evil? (See papi’s comment for a more precise definition of evil)
2. Does porn necessarily imply exploitation?
   1. What about amateur porn? (consider Paris Hilton, Kim Kardashian, exploited?)
   2. What about secondary effects of porn? (i.e. even if the amateur porn producers aren’t exploited, does having porn cause society to sexualize and objectify other people)
3. Is it desirable to ban pornography?
   1. What about freedom of expression?
   2. What is the line between what is banned, and what is not? Who decides? (Justice Stewart’s ridiculous cop-out : “I know it when I see it”, is not an acceptable answer)
   3. Is it even possible to ban pornography? What would the side-effects be?
4. Child pornography is bad, right? If all porn is bad, then you can skip this question.
   1. What about child porn that doesn’t involve children in its production.
   2. Same question for animal porn. If that’s bad on the grounds of “non-consent from participants”, then how does this compare to other uses of animals’ bodies (which animal consents to be eaten?).
5. What about keeping porn away from children?

Type away.

“On February 27 I waked up suddenly, at 3:34 am, Santiago de Chile time, shaken by the most violent earthquake that I had never experienced before. During 90 seconds I was convinced that I was living my last minutes on this world; I was terrified, not because of dying, in some way I was surrendered to death, but because I thought that it would be very painful. I live in an eleventh floor apartment, and I thought that the violence of the movement would break the building: I felt like being swallowed by the unlimited power of nature; I was minute, weak, insignificant in front of such almighty energy.”

Read the full account here:
http://www.yogzilla.com/2010/03/02/the-force-of-nature/

(image courtesy youtube)


Last August I read an interesting Business Week article about how worldwide bicycle sales had remained robust despite the recession, and that the fastest-growing segment thereof was electric bicycles. This week even the New York Times saw fit to report on the trend. While I had heard of electric bicycles before, and even tried out one that a neighbor of mine had bought a while back, I could never think of what I would use one for.

The Business Week article intrigued me enough to read several of its links, and links from those links, and one item that struck me in particular that I wasn’t previously aware of was the availability of electric conversion kits for existing regular bicycles. A few months earlier I had re-acquired my old mountain bike from my brother, who had been using it for the previous 16 years. Or rather, he had used it for a few years before buying a fancier model, and mine had been gathering dust in his garage ever since. The sad part was it had been suffering the same fate in my garage too for the preceding few months before I read that article and had a ‘eureka’ moment.

I had bought another mountain bike when I moved to Florida for grad school, which I used daily for commuting then (I lived close to campus), but hardly ever used after graduating. I guess after I got into motorcycling, recreational bicycling just wasn’t really my thing! Anyway, before that bicycle was stolen a few years ago (damn thieves), I had used it for commuting exactly twice. Both times, I arrived at work drenched in sweat and so exhausted (no pun intended; I merely mean fatigued, though exercising strenuously in traffic fumes can’t be healthy) that I wasn’t useful for at least the first hour after arriving. I therefore never considered bicycle commuting a serious option.

Anyway, the aforementioned ‘eureka,’ in case you haven’t figured it out, was to convert my old bike (which has sentimental value to me having originally been given to me by my late mother) to electric and use it for commuting. I spent several weeks researching various kits, and found that prices range from about $500 for cheapo Chinese kits with heavy lead-acid batteries to nearly $10,000 for some models with light and energy-dense lithium batteries. Having had bad experiences with some inferior Chinese products, I decided to buy a decent mid-range kit and eventually decided on the NiMH-battery-equipped E+ Flex kit by Electric Motion Systems.

Features I like about this kit:

1. Motor integrated into rear hub - allows use of conventional pedals, chain, and gears for exercise when desired
2. Batteries integrated into front hub - keeps center of gravity low and uses battery weight to increase gyroscopic stability (also, doesn’t force you to sacrifice luggage rack or a bottle cage for battery storage, if that’s important to you)
3. Regenerative braking - charges batteries while braking like a hybrid car
4. Made by a company from a developed country - in this case U.S.A.

Some other kits I considered are from Bionx, which is Canadian and has many of the same features (including regenerative braking), and E-BikeKit, which uses a front wheel mounted motor and offers a choice of battery types. There are several companies out there, but some don’t seem very reputable, so in general, buyer beware. A good source of info for anyone considering an e-bike or e-bike conversion is the Endless Sphere forum.

As far as my own personal experience, the E+ Flex kit conversion has been great! It only took me a couple of hours to install all the parts (two new wheels with new tires; two new brake levers with switches for the regenerative braking; backlit controller/display showing charge status and cycle computer functions; throttle; and data/power cables), and the company has been very responsive to any questions I’ve had. Riding the bike is just like riding a regular bike except you have the option of applying the throttle to get a little boost from the motor and batteries. Note that you still have to pedal - the motor and batteries do not have enough power to propel the bike on their own. Well, not unless you and the people behind you have a lot of patience; you could eventually get across an intersection, but not before the light turns red again (however, it depends on the power setting; see comments 9 & 10 below). You’d also drain the battery much quicker than if pedaling too. What the electric assist does is precisely that: assist. It makes pedaling easier, and therefore allows you to reach a higher speed while pedaling than you could unassisted. How intensely you pedal is entirely up to you.

I’ve been using it on average for about three days a week to commute from home to work, work to the gym, and the gym to home - a total distance of about 14 miles a day - since September 2009. While my main motivations were to restore (and get use out of) an old bicycle and enable a green commute*, I’ve been pleasantly surprised to find I’ve lost 6 pounds. The best part is, while I’m now getting nearly an extra three hours per week of cardio, it doesn’t really feel like exercise. I pedal at a comfortable pace and arrive at work without - or only barely - having broken a sweat (for those so inclined, the controller offers resistance modes for more rigorous exercise or for going downhill slower with a sort of engine braking). Another benefit is that I now actually notice the scenery on my way to work, which I previously didn’t see enough of to even think it was worth noticing.

If you’re looking for a different way to get or stay fit, consider turning your commute into a fun, effective, and barely noticeable workout!

Here’s a pic** (clickable for larger image):

*Doing the math assuming $2.50 per gallon of gasoline, 19.6 lbs. of CO2 produced per gallon of gasoline, $0.11/kWh electricity cost, 1.33 lbs. of CO2 produced per kWh of electricity (2007 U.S. generation data), and 78 miles/kWh (28 miles maximum range/0.36 kWh battery capacity), one gets over 1100 mpg in terms of CO2 emissions and nearly 1800 mpg in terms of fuel cost. Those aren’t typos; the math really works out to eleven hundred and eighteen hundred miles per gallon comparative emissions per mile and cost per mile, respectively (for our metric friends, that’s 0.2 & 0.13 l/100km, or 480 & 750 km/l). No hybrid car can touch that!

**The rear case is a motorcycle trunk I added so I’d have lockable, waterproof storage for my briefcase, gym bag, groceries, etc.

Postscript February 17, 2010:

Bicycle Safety: I forgot to mention that the very first day I biked to work last fall, I was rather unnerved by the traffic on my regular (car/motorcycle) route.  I did a search for ‘bicycle safety’ that same day and found this great site that I highly recommend: www.bicyclesafe.com.  Two of their tips I’ve adopted are to use a different route when bicycling that includes streets with less traffic and lower speed limits, and to wear a reflective vest even during the day.  In addition, a few days ago while driving my car I noticed a rider with a helmet-mounted rear flashing taillight like mine (see pic below and comment #2), who had it switched on during the day, and I have to say it was really noticeable even in daylight, so I’ve started riding with my blinky on during the day too.  Definitely put it on your helmet vs. your bike - the higher up it is, the more visible it is.

Maintenance/Repair: Another excellent site I’d like to point people to if they’re not already familiar with it is the Sheldon Brown site (scroll down to the yellow box for specific sections).  Absolutely fantastic info if you’re into keeping an older bike on the road (or just maintaining a new one; the Park Tool book I mentioned in comment #2 below is extremely helpful in either case too).

Postscript May 14, 2010:

Here’s an interesting ready-made e-bike (not a kit) that has nice styling and is reasonably priced for what it offers: Pedego.

Howard Zinn, the people’s historian, died today.

http://www.business-standard.com/india/storypage.php?autono=382840

There is nothing more satisfying than a story well told. Even better when it’s a yarn full of fantasy and flights of fancy, narrated with spirit, and accompanied by musicians who understand and enliven the tale with their efforts. Leave the world at the door, and prepare to be transported with words and music to the city of the dead.

https://www.brownpapertickets.com/event/90226

http://www.business-standard.com/india/news/the-spiritthings/382186/

Along the way, we had to go through the now rather large town of Maricopa. When I first moved to the Phoenix area in the late ’90s, Maricopa was a sleepy little backwater. During the real estate boom a few years ago, developers built numerous residential properties here, which sharply increased the traffic to and from Phoenix. Town officials responded by implementing a 25 mph speed limit in town. I was reminded of this as I accelerated spiritedly from a stoplight (but only, honestly, to about 35-40 mph) and found a motorcycle cop honking at me from my left. Luckily, he only gave me a verbal warning before making a U-turn. Derek commented later that he probably just wanted to check out my new Buell.

Once out of town and back on the open road, we accelerated back up to 55 (or thereabouts…). Actually, we really didn’t go much faster as the temperatures out in the countryside had dipped into the low 40’s and neither of us wanted to increase the windchill more than necessary. When we stopped at the cafe, we found to our great chagrin that it was closed, had been renamed “Good Times Cafe” with Miller Lite logos, and didn’t look nearly as charming as I remembered. Determined to find breakfast, we headed east towards Casa Grande, and along the way found a golf resort and hotel in the middle of nowhere. They had an excellent - and open - restaurant where we both ordered the Southwestern Eggs Benedict (with chorizo - yum! No meal pic unfortunately as we were too ravenous to think of anything other than eating).

Amply nourished, we eventually headed south through the Tohono O’Odham Indian Reservation, though it took us a while to get there due to a few detours. Once there, it took us a further while to find a paved road, though once we did, we were rewarded with fresh asphalt, minimal traffic, and outstanding desert views.

Unfortunately, the detours had taken their toll on our fuel levels, and gas stations are few and far between on the reservation. We were both near the bottom of our reserve tanks when we pulled into a health center (the only building cluster for miles), only to be told the nearest gas station was 18 miles away. After unsuccessfully asking around for gas on-site, we decided to press on, with whoever didn’t run out of gas (and would hopefully make it to the gas station) returning with a fuel container for the unlucky one who didn’t make it. I ended up being the latter, sputtering to a stop about 8 miles past the health center. Of course, being stranded in the desert in December is a lot better than being stranded there in July! It really wasn’t that bad, and was actually rather serene, listening to the sounds of various desert wildlife in the distance.

Although a few cars drove by that I tried to flag down, only two stopped: a young couple in a Subaru who unfortunately couldn’t give me any fuel (but then, how many people nowadays carry a fuel hose and hand pump in their car for siphoning?); and a Border Patrol agent in his work truck who asked if I had anyone helping me. I let him know my friend had gone on ahead but might likewise be out of gas further up the road. In any event, Derek finally returned with a one gallon water jug full of premium stowed in one of his cavernous saddlebags. His Kawasaki Concours had gone an astonishing 48 miles since his reserve light first came on, and it was still running when he got to the gas station (he probably could’ve gone another 2 miles for an even 50). My Buell Firebolt ran completely dry after 34 miles on reserve (now I know…). Hey, if nothing unplanned happened, it wouldn’t be an adventure!

We proceeded west to the aptly-named town of Why to top off my tank. The original plan was to then head south through the Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument to the border town of Lukeville, across from Sonoyta on the Mexican side. However, due to the time we had lost with searching for and running out of gas, plus the detours earlier, we decided to skip that part of the itinerary and head north to Ajo for a late lunch. In the ten-mile stretch between Why and Ajo, there appeared to be the prominent remnants of mining operations, with a rugged yet majestic beauty of their own.

Ajo actually has some nice, historic-looking buildings in its downtown area, but we didn’t take the time to sightsee (next trip!). The place we stopped at was on the northern outskirts of town and rather basic, though their enchilada-style burritos really hit the spot!

After lunch, we proceeded north through a rather scenic portion of the desert, especially in the late afternoon light.

Continuing north towards Gila Bend, we encountered a Border Patrol checkpoint. We had seen another one earlier while heading south, but didn’t need to stop then since that one, like this one, was only checking northbound traffic. The car ahead of us had Mexican license plates, so the guards checked his papers, but when it was our turn they waved us right through (I guess it would be pretty hard to hide a bunch of illegal immigrants on a motorcycle). On a side note, I was amazed by the level of Border Patrol presence on this ride; after we got a few miles south of Casa Grande, it seemed like every fourth or fifth vehicle on the road was a Border Patrol one.

At Gila Bend, we hopped on I-8, then retraced our steps from the former Burnt Bun Cafe back to Phoenix, ending at a friend’s place for happy hour. Overall, it was a very enjoyable 300+ mile ride. If you don’t ride, you should, but at the very least please watch out for motorcycles. If you do ride, watch out for cagers and keep the rubber side down!

You couldn’t possibly remember me.
I was four and your brother’s best friend.
Four is too young to have a crush on your friend’s didi, isn’t it?

You were beautiful.
You had to be.
You had sweet multicolored saunf to offer me - every time I knocked on your door.
The saunf could not have been sweeter than the palms that held them.
How come your bangles always matched the colors of the saunf?
Those bangles couldn’t have been more delicate than the wrists that wore them.

I hope you found the man of your dreams.
I pray that your children are as beautiful as you were.
I wish you all the happiness that you gave me and more.

But dear Radha, sometimes I can’t help but wonder.
Are you sad? Now?
If the waves ever carry this message in a bottle to you …
I hope you never forget that you are Radha, beloved of the Lord Krishna.
And that this four year old still thinks that you must be
The most beautiful girl in the world.