by Steven K. Roberts


Copyright (C) 2000 by Steven K. Roberts. All Rights Reserved.

IN THIS ISSUE:

"Pardon me, do you have any Grey Poupon?"

Shakedown post-mortem

Well, I'm back at the lab. Three months of adventure have passed
since I left the clutter that once again stares me in the face, and the
perspective thus gained helps me see it as just that. The shakedown
served its intended purposes: highlighting what's important,
revealing the unnecessary, smoking out poor components, and
interjecting amusement into something that was becoming entirely
too serious. It also led to a major change, but more on that in a
moment.

This was a strange one, as tours go -- it had a beginning and an end.
In our last installment, I was languishing in Lansing trying to get it
together enough to roll again after the epoch of Susan... pedaling
southeast to Ann Arbor and thence into Ohio. I lounged about in Joe
Tyner's house for a couple of weeks, becoming part of the family,
learning for the nth time the subtle, maddening truth in Moon's
observation that the wanderer's danger is to find comfort. Days were
spent studying Japanese and puttering; nights passed lazily with
family dinner, good conversation, and the always-available cable TV
in my basement hideaway.

One weekend my friend from Racine flew over the lake for an
interlude of play, and we cruised the campus scene -- stopping
innocently in the bookstore to browse. My current educational
obsession in the foreground, thinking more of the joys of learning
than the horrors of packing, I innocently bought six Japanese
language books and a couple of CDs to go with them.

Something changed at that moment, though I didn't know it yet.
Jitensha no naka ni Nihongo no hon ga rokusatsu arimasu ne...

You got it. A couple days later, I awoke in a glow of ambition,
reassembled the Tyners' hide-a-bed, checked the route to Ann Arbor
on the map, and performed the familiar ritual of imposing
granularity onto my vast pile of possessions by stuffing them into
packs. I hauled everything out to the driveway, backed BEHEMOTH
into the brittle Michigan sunshine, started a Cleo Laine CD, and began
to load up -- stuffing things into familiar corners, maximizing trailer
packing density to the best of my ability and hoping as always that
the huge pile on the ground would somehow fit.

But this time, it didn't. I rearranged and tried again; tucking a few
things in with the cooling system and even shoving some laundry
into the pillow bag bungeed atop the manpack, but to no avail. Hm. It
was the book that broke BEHEMOTH's back, so to speak -- that sextet
of Japanese books pushed my load over the edge.

I sat down and stared at it, suddenly demotivated. Yeah, I suppose I
could ship a few things ahead... or even get rid of some stuff if I tried
hard enough. But it seemed like too much work. What I really
wanted was to get back to the lab and finish the job -- to weave
together all the standalone systems that were not yet integrated into
a network, write some code, and make the damn thing talk.
Continuing from Lansing seemed pointless, anticlimactic. Susan was
gone, it was getting cold, and I had six Japanese books that wouldn't
fit.

The choice was clear. I went out and bought a mother ship.


Jitensha --> Jidoosha

The books were the trigger, but there was a deeper cause. The
fundamental flaw in this latest phase of my chronic nomadness is the
need for a rather substantial base-lab -- at the moment, 1200 square
feet generously sponsored by Sun Microsystems. This won't last
forever, and I've been ignoring the impending crisis: what am I to
do with all the support systems when this space is eventually
converted into something more in line with traditional corporate
activities? Cast about for another host company? Rent something,
get domestic, and sink into debt? Impose heavily on a friend, taking
over a spare room while wandering without easy access to backups
and major tools?

It turns out that the support systems (or, put more conventionally,
all my STUFF) can be parsed into four levels of relevance: stuff that
lives on the bike, stuff that I need whenever I'm not pedaling, stuff
that must remain available for backups or eventual integration into a
conventional <shudder> lifestyle, and stuff I don't need at all. The
last category is easy: trash. So is the first: bike packs. The third
category calls for a friendly storage space (any volunteers?). And
the second calls for a mother ship that's always in the same general
end of the world -- or at least reachable. Given the sudden rash of
invitations to exhibit BEHEMOTH at trade shows and speaking gigs,
the idea of a mobile "base lab" suddenly makes a lot of sense. Not a
sag wagon, but a relocatable shop and hiding place.

And so, to cut to the chase, I bought a new 20-foot Wells Cargo
trailer and an '87 GMC van to pull it. Having blown about $3,000 on
rental trucks in the last year, a purchase was easy to rationalize... so
I spent a few days on bike tie-downs and basic furniture, got
everything registered and insured at my new Michigan address, and
hit the road -- breezing through Ann Arbor, Adrian, Marion,
Columbus, Cincinnati, and Louisville before zooming across the vast
and desolate midsection of the US, enroute once again to Silicon
Valley.

I hasten to add that this gas-guzzling monster (about 1.7 light years
per cubic mile of gasoline) is NOT an alternative to the bike: it's a
mobile lab. More than a semantic difference, this implies a fourth
layer in the hierarchy of nomadic components:

1 -- a detachable manpack with basic survival tools and laptop
2 -- BEHEMOTH
3 -- the Mother Ship, cabled into the bike when berthed
4 -- a home base (one of these days)

All these will network together to take advantage of each others'
processing, power, and communication resources. At the moment,
this translates into the existing bike/manpack systems, with a
connector for the mother ship's umbilicus when I'm running on dead
dinosaurs. (To get specific, one of the first tasks is to mount a laptop
on the van's console, and provide a pair of audio channels to the
bike's crosspoint matrix. This will take care of cellular phone, ham
radio, database access, and satellite datacomm (assuming, of course,
that the antennas are remoted to the outside of the big metal box
when the bike's parked inside). I'll also add some solar panels to
the trailer's roof to keep things alive when I'm out pedaling.)

Anyway, I picked up Maggie to return her to the west coast, turned
the key, and 3,000 miles passed. (Would I ever say THAT after
crossing the country by bicycle? There's the essential difference....
no matter how bleak the country, interesting things always happen
when you pedal. Not so when you sit staring out the window with
your foot on the gas.) I'm back at the lab until March, with two trade
shows on opposite ends of the west coast between now and then to
help me warm up to the new twist in this lifestyle. And before I go
on to the long-awaited mini product reviews, I'd like to put out a
feeler to this alias...


The BEHEMOTH Road Show coming your way?

I don't think I ever mentioned that I'm not independently wealthy.
(Freelance writers seldom are, though you'd be surprised at the
assumptions some people make when they see the bike.) What this
means is that I occasionally have to WORK -- whether through the
much-heralded process of publishing <chuckle>, an occasional
consulting relationship, or speaking and trade-show gigs. Now that I
have the mother ship, emphasis will be on the latter.

If your organization would like to have a close-up look at BEHEMOTH,
let's talk. I'm putting together a 1992 tour schedule around North
America, beginning full time in March (although Bay Area
appearances between now and then are possible). I can bring the
bike to your company, campus, club meeting, or trade show -- and
make any of a variety of presentations suited to the crowd. Email
me if you'd like to explore this further.

(Incidentally, I'll try to be a good little high-tech nomad and publish
advance notice of any known public showings, riding interludes, or
media events here on the net -- once they're nailed down. It
currently appears that I will be in San Diego in mid-January and
Seattle at the end of February.)


Product Mini-Reviews

One of the main purposes of this recent shakedown cruise through
Iowa, Illinois, Wisconsin, and Michigan was to subject the new
equipment to road abuse and see how it survives. As usual, the
results were mixed -- some products are stellar performers and
some are junk. Since part of my job is to pass along such insights, I
offer eighteen entirely subjective mini-reviews, presented in the
order I happened to think of them:


DeLORME ATLASES
Grade: A+

The best. These maps are so good that I don't want to do any bicycle
touring in states that DON'T have them. At present, DeLorme atlases
exist for WA, OR, CA, MN, WI, IL, MI, OH, TN, VA, PA, NY, NH, VT, ME,
and FL. Packaged like full-size US atlases, they break up each state
into roughly 23 x 34 mile rectangles -- densely packed with useful
information. From a bicycle touring perspective, they show you all
the roads that automobile drivers never use, and that alone makes
them well worth their weight on even the lightest bike. There are
also listings of parks, campgrounds, natural attractions, wineries, and
much more.

If you're touring in any of those states, these are essential. And --
this news just in -- DeLorme is now shipping their CDROM/Windows
product covering the entire US down to city and county streets. This
should be on the bike by the next trip.



DISK BRAKE FROM HELL
Grade: D

The component that received the most curses during this past trip
was a disk brake assembled by a friend from a Magura
lever/cable assembly, Gramica calipers, and racing go-kart disk.

The first problem was a modification to the disk that resulted in
severe warpage and runout -- not only preventing effective braking
action but also subjecting me to a maddening clickety-click on every
wheel revolution as it caught and then released the pads. That's
right... not only did I have to haul 580 pounds, but I had to keep my
brake warm.

A replacement part (this time solid instead of slotted and drilled)
met me in Wisconsin, which replaced the clicking with a soft
continuous whisper as the pads dragged smoothly. I could find no
adjustment to eliminate this without also eliminating the mushy but
essential braking action -- since lever travel was the limiting factor.
I've since noticed that the brazed-on mount (which was done here,
not by the builder) might be slightly off-parallel with the disk, and that
could be part of the problem -- or, hopefully, all of it. (This is why I
gave it a grade of D instead of F -- I know the builder and he has a
well-developed sense of quality engineering... he wouldn't
knowingly ship a product this bad. Some benefit of the doubt is in
order, though it doesn't excuse the original warped disk and the
tendency to unscrew.)

Yes, the other bit of nastiness with this brake is the fact that it's
simply threaded on to the Phil Wood hub. This is fine if you're
trying to stop while moving conventionally forward... but trying to
keep this machine from rolling backwards down a hill is an exercise
in faith. Ya just never know when the disk will suddenly unscrew
and turn the day into a nightmare... see the story in Bikelab Report
#12 about the wreck in Paddock Lake that resulted from this
problem. Retrofitting a decent disk brake to a heavy bicycle is a
non-trivial issue, and I'm not really sure how I would do it without
making a custom hub to support the disk properly. A monster
setscrew, trashing the threads? Loctite, already proven to be a
disaster in areas that get hot? Perhaps a narrower thread collar with
a lockring?



PHIL WOOD HUBS
Grade: Old model: C New model: A

While on the subject of rear wheels, let's talk about the hub. On the
eve of RAGBRAI, my Phil Wood hub failed -- the flanges started
slipping relative to the stainless hub body. In the past, I've had
bearings start floating relative to the body as well (going down a
mountain in the dark -- very exciting), and the reason for all of this
is that it was made from 5 independent parts glued together...
with no true mechanical support. They were very nice parts, mind
you; they just didn't always stay together under heavy abuse. The
temporary hack for the first day of RAGBRAI involved drilling four
holes through flange and body and pinning it with short sections of
DT 14-gauge spokes. This actually worked, but was on the verge of
failing after 60 miles.

The company sent me a new model to replace the old, and it was
built into a 48-spoke undished wheel by Gaylord Hill of Cyclopedia
(your one-stop HPV accessory shop -- 800-678-1021). This hub is
much more solid, and the flanges are part of the all-aluminum model.
They now have an even newer one that is easily field-serviceable,
and is available in quick release. Very good stuff.


STEREO SYSTEM
Grade: A-

This is a multi-vendor subsystem, and as such isn't really a product
review. But I do want to report that the Blaupunkt HC-1030
honeycomb speakers, Yamaha YPA-100 18-watt-per-channel amp,
and Sony D-T66 Discman CD player with tuner performed extremely
well. Audio quality with the speakers built into the RUMP is
astonishing, with crisp highs and startling bass support (most people
look around for the OTHER speakers, which don't exist). The Yamaha
amp is exceptionally quiet, much more so than the other models I
tested (including an absolutely AWFUL Blaupunkt unit with built-
in graphic equalizer and a Sony unit that burned twice the standby
power as this one).

The reason for the A- is the Sony. The clunky spindle accepts CDs
reluctantly, and the tuner -- for a $100 premium -- is terrible,
offering no scan mode, a clumsy user interface, and mediocre
reception. Next time out, I'll run a cable from the excellent Sony ICF-
SW1 shortwave with FM stereo, switching that into the amp when I
need a break from the finite CD library.

Shock mounting was adequate for the average reasonably smooth
road, but could be better (this is not the vendor's fault, though there
is a wide range in the market when it comes to CD shock isolation --
shop carefully). The older Sony D-180K appears to be better in that
department, but I went through two of them with serious electronic
problems (noisy power supply and clock drift) before switching to
this model. What's going on here? I though Sony products were
always perfect?


ICOM 725 HF TRANSCEIVER; OUTBACKER ANTENNAS
Grade: A

This first class portable HF ham rig put up with heavy abuse under
all sorts of shock and vibration conditions, and still let me chat with a
guy in Verona, Italy while wandering around Michigan. Easy to use,
easy to program, no problems. I've just added the AM/FM and
narrow-CW modules, and they work great -- in the latter case, much
better than the ringing and touchy external filter. The pair of 7-
band Outbacker whips configured as a dipole worked flawlessly atop
an extendable fiberglass mast, pivoting on a custom assembly made
by Steve desJardins. The whole getup looks seriously bizarre when
deployed, but I'm used to that.


AUTEK QF-1A and WM-1
Grade: C

These ham-radio products, an external active audio filter and a
computing SWR bridge and wattmeter, represent a pretty good
cost/performance ratio. I repackaged them and got them working
somewhere in Wisconsin, and am generally satisfied.

But the filter, like most analog approaches to the problem, is touchy
to operate and introduces ringing and other distortion. And the
meter, under some operating conditions, gives negative readings of
power and SWR! The review unit at QST does the same thing
occasionally, relieving fears that I have some kind of strange
transmission-line problem on the bike.

Nevertheless, the units work well for the price, and have withstood
the physical abuse better than some of the competitors in the same
price range.


J-COM MAGIC NOTCH FILTER
Grade: A+

Pure magic. This bit of wizardry sits betwen your ham transceiver
and the speaker, constantly scanning (when enabled) for any kind of
continuous tone (like some bozo tuning up on frequency, or, as is
common on the bike, a computer-generated birdie). When it finds
one, it drops a 30 Hz notch on top of it and it's gone. That's all there
is to it -- no knobs to twiddle. If you have a birdie or heterodyne
problem, get one.

LANDING GEAR
Grade: A-

This saved me; it's that simple. Created by Steve desJardins, these
pneumatically actuated landing gear are deployed for parking, or
whenever I'm in the ultra-granny gear and pedaling slowly up a
steep hill. I quickly reached the point where I could extend and
retract them on the fly (via a spring-loaded toggle under the seat),
and stopping halfway up a hill to rest without even putting my feet
down is now a routine matter. Without them, starting again would
be almost impossible.

The wheels are 6" pneumatics built for wheelchairs by Quickie
Designs. The main bearing is a modified CQP crank spindle. Air
handling components were provided by Frank Fox of SMC
Pneumatics in San Jose, and Steve did the rest -- including a trailing
arm shock-cord suspension reminiscent of the old Piper Cub, and a 4-
bar mechanism coupled to a double acting cylinder actuated by
solenoid-operated valves. The air supply is the tank originally
installed for the air horns, and I've just acquired a tiny 12-volt
piston pump that can recharge it every day or two so I don't have to
keep finding gas stations or wearing out my right arm.

The downside of the design is that it is not immediately adaptive to
road surface variations, and thus bad steep roads can be quite
dangerous. I've found myself using all kinds of body english trying
to compensate for road crown, and a surprise bump can almost dump
me. Next model should have two independent hydraulic struts that
attempt to keep the bike vertical by dynamically adjusting their
downward pressure as a function of force feedback and inclinometer
data...

This is one of those things that looks like wretched excess but
actually spells the difference between clumsiness and elegance. The
cynical view is that I have just enough hardware to compensate for
the weight of all this hardware, but I prefer to think of it as art.


OrCAD
Grade: A

The entire electronic design of the bike is managed within a
hierarchical file structure of OrCAD sheets. A full discussion of CAD
software is beyond the scope of these mini-reviews, but I'm
continually amazed at the smooth integration and efficiency of this
package. The company has just released the new ESP design
environment (release IV), and even if you never plan to do printed
circuit boards or PLD's, it's worth it just for the schematic capture.
OrCAD makes your brain work better.


CYCLE BINDING SHOE/PEDAL SYSTEM
Grade: A-

I wish these people hadn't gone out of business. Breaking into the
bicycling market is extremely difficult -- it's style-driven and
dominated by a few major vendors. Some excellent products appear
and then quietly die, while some true junk gathers dust on the
shelves for years.

Cycle Binding is in the first category. This shoe system is based on a
successful ski binding design, and is particularly attractive for
recumbent riders because the foot can float about 15 degrees around
the set angle. On a normal bicycle, this isn't necessary -- a skinny
seat is rammed up your, er, centerline to keep you aligned precisely
with the bike. But a recumbent seat is wide and comfortable,
meaning that you can incur a few degrees of error in the foot-pedal
relationship... potentially causing knee problems with traditional
cleats.

The shoes velcro on, and locking/unlocking to the pedal is so easy
and smooth that I've never fallen over in the process (my major fear
when first trying them). Since the cleat is female, walking is
comfortable. And a subtle security benefit results from the difficulty
of riding the bike without the proper shoes.

I hear the new Shimanos are excellent, and when these eventually
wear out I'll look into them. But for now, Cycle Binding, though no
longer available, still gets my vote.


POQET PC
Grade: B

This little palmtop computer is an amazing machine -- full DOS
system in a tiny package. It has an acceptable keyboard, which
places it well above the Atari Portfolio and others as a writing tool.

The big problem is the built-in editor, which is worthless. It word-
wraps, of course... but if you want to go up a few lines and add some
words it does not compensate -- nor have I found any way to force a
reformat (someone please tell me if there is one). The general
software environment is fine and the other tools are OK... and slow
speed is certainly no problem when the payoff is 40 or so hours of
life on a couple of AA batteries. The screen is even 24x80.

My only other complaint is the little RAM card covers on the back,
which only stay on if there's a RAM or application card installed.
Sticking duct tape on a exquisite packaging job like the Poquet rubs
me the wrong way.


SOLAR SHOWER
Grade: A

Absolutely essential for cycle camping. They work, and make
romantic evenings around the fire considerably more pleasant.


MAKITA POWER TOOLS
Grade: A+

Here's another winner. After years of buying and then discarding
consumer-grade Black & Decker and Craftsman electric drills (always
suffering with them for a few years after the beginning of bearing or
chuck failure until, in a fit of pique, I would be driven to buy another
clunker), I broke down and got a good one. The 9.6-volt series of
familar blue-green tools from Makita are magnificent machines, and
the bike carries both a reversible, 2-speed, 3/8" drill and the
flashlight -- as well as a charger designed for 12-volt power systems.
The flashlight, with spot and flood modes as well as a red rhodopsin-
saving filter, is the most robust I've ever used (though it doesn't
replace the infinitely convenient Mini-Maglite in my pack). If you
buy these tools, make sure you have 2 or more batteries so you don't
have to twiddle your thumbs for an hour halfway through a hole.


THERMA-REST MATTRESSES
Grade: B+

This is  the best camping mattress on the market.

One tip -- in an emergency, you
can make a "couple kit" with three strips of 3M adhesive-backed
velcro (loop) on each mattress and corresponding strips of "hook."
Just let the stuff stick for about 24 hours before getting too
rambunctious. And if you don't have the official patch kit, barge
cement works (though it's not very pretty).

Contact your camp supply store.


EUREKA! EQUINOX 6 TENT
Grade: A+

This is amazing. When I was tent shopping for this new system, I
stated the tough requirement that my new shelter be freestanding,
yet big enough to accommodate bike and trailer. Given that the
machine is about 13 feet long, this is a non-trivial issue. Most tents
big enough to house the bike weighed between 30 and 50 pounds
and required stakes.

The new Equinox series from Eureka includes three free-standing
domes of different sizes, and this is the largest. At only about 20
pounds, it has an amazing function-to-weight ratio. It's tough, too:
on that fateful RAGBRAI eve, there was a huge storm, and a good
many of the tents around me were sagging and soaked by morning.
Not the Eureka. This is a far cry from their old A-frame models --
it's tight, easy to assemble (with clips, not sleeves!), and has excellent
ventilation and visibility. There's also a vestibule (which does
require staking), precut groundcloth, and gear loft.

To park the bike, incidentally, I drop the trailer, roll it inside, then
jockey it into position along the back wall. I then bring the trailer in
at about 90 degrees to the bike and reattach it. All my stuff is now
in easy reach; the solar trailer lid makes a good worksurface; I feel
secure with the hardware out of sight of passers-by. It's a
surprisingly comfy house.

This is an excellent tent, new this year, and I suspect the others in
the series are just as good..


SPRINT
Grade: D

You know, I've always liked the idea of competing long-distance
telephone services, and rarely have any reason to complain about the
performance of my Sprint account (except when I'm on those awful
midwest GTE phones with the nasty buttons that lock out additional
touch-tones after the access code, forcing you to use either your Casio
DTMF watch or their operators... but that's not Sprint's fault).

What IS Sprint's fault is their policy on security. During the long
stint in the bikelab, I almost never used my travel card. When I hit
the road, I began using it full time (about $350 a month worth). This
apparently triggered their computer model of stolen card behavior,
and my account was summarily disabled without warning -- while I
was in Newburg, WI at a hostel trying to coordinate the arrival of a
film crew from Japan, via Los Angeles, into Milwaukee. I had no
other method of making calls.

When I contacted Sprint they informed me that this was policy. Why
did they not try to get in touch with me first? Policy. How long
would it take to get the account back on? Oh, 8 hours or so. By
screaming at the right people I managed it in 2 hours, but the lesson
stuck: don't take Sprint on the road without a backup AT&T calling
card or MCI account.

Incidentally, all these services have a hidden charge (even AT&T,
which barely admits it). There is a PER CALL surcharge of 50-70
cents anytime you use an access number and your card account, even
though the actual connect time is billed at about the same rate as a
call from home. Beware.


HELMET COOLING SYSTEM
Grade: A+

Ahhh, yes. This is another of those rather bizarre components in
BEHEMOTH, but it proved itself admirably. My helmet liner is a
black cap containing a fabric heat exchanger made by Life Support
Systems, with an insulating sleeve down the nape of my neck that
carries two plastic tubes. These plug into fittings on the top of my
seat, which are connected to a water tank (about 2 gallons) via a
small hand-crank pump. A Y-fitting on the high-pressure side feeds
a bite valve stowed in a holster beside the seat.

All this except for the helmet liner was provided by Carlson
Technology in Detroit, which does similar things for race-car drivers,
people with certain medical problems, firefighters, and others who
need to keep cool in hot environments.

Lemme tellya: it works. On 100-degree days in the midwest sun, I
could pedal uphill in a mass of dead, humid air and be comfortable.
Every morning, I'd buy a 99-cent bag of crushed ice from a
convenience store and pour it into the tank, then fill most of the way
with water. Anytime thereafter, I could pull about 75 watts out of
my head by simply turning the little crank (a peristaltic pump) -- or
drink by biting the rubber valve while doing likewise. Head cooling
not only aided comfort immeasurably, it reduced my dependence
upon fluid-evaporative cooling, thus lowering my drinking needs.
Water warmed by the heat exchanger simply returns to the tank.

This is the first time in my touring career I have ever felt adequately
hydrated on a long day's ride, and being able to turn on the hair
conditioner anytime I like goes a long way toward improving the
attitude... not to mention physical performance. I highly recommend
this for any serious tourer -- and a system using ice cartridges and a
small electric pump is available for racers.


RADIO SHACK / MAXON 49-MHz INTERCOM
Grade: F

Well, maybe I shouldn't be so harsh. But when Susan joined me, we
had to have something to communicate. Since she's not a ham (yet)
we went to the local Radio Shack and bought a pair of wireless
intercoms using the ear-microphone. They're either VOX or push-to-
talk, and seemed like a pretty good idea at the time.

The audio quality is actually quite good, considering the mic
placement. But effective range, well... let me put it this way: if
you're close enough to shout at each other, these will work. If you're
just barely outside that range, these will allow just enough
communication to make you say "what?" And if you're significantly
outside shouting range, these won't help. Besides, battery life on 9V
alkalines is only about 2 days.

Added to that is the nature of 49 MHz band allocation. Riding
through Wisconsin towns, I listened in on baby monitors and cordless
phones (quite unwillingly, since I really wanted to chat with my
companion, not listen to peoples' TV sets and crying kids). Many
power lines also generate heavy trash that keeps the squelch open.
In short, it's doubtless useful under some specific circumstances, but
this product is not for bicycle touring.


That's more than enough for now -- we're over 30K! Time to cause a
micro-hiccup in global information flow as this bolus of text is loosed
upon a massive alias......

Cheers!
Steven K. Roberts