The Grand Touring Machine... WHY? So what is the objective here? Is this just another step in the layering of progressively niftier technology onto my faithful old recumbent bicycle frame until I'm too old to huff it up a hill? Is there a central dream? Or am I just a gadget freak, propeller-head, and yuppie hobo all rolled into one, too set in my wandering ways to consider settling down? These thoughts were much on my mind as I pondered the design of a new machine. The scope of this one was truly frightening: nearly $1.2 million worth of bicycle, including the value of professional time (at 580 pounds loaded, that's $129/ounce). 3.5 years to complete. About 150 corporate equipment sponsors along with a couple dozen occasional assistants, machinists, technicians, and consultants. What could possibly motivate me to concentrate so many precious resources into a ponderously heavy machine, just to expose not only it but my own body to the violent drunken terrors of the highway? Hmm. The initial need to escape suburbia for a life of adventure had long since been satisfied. So had the basic tire itch, the lust for a piece of asphalt, the curiosity about hot fleeting romances and the mysteries of small towns. I had already proven to myself that I could "do it," whatever that means. So what was it this time? Inertia? Addiction to movement? A sense of not having finished the job yet? Vague dreams of another book (perhaps even with a real publisher this time)? The continuing appeal of the spotlight? A lifelong love of whiz-bang technology? It was a little of all that, but much more besides. Consider the suite of motivations: Lifestyle Prototype. Future society will be virtually paperless, energy-efficient, dependent upon wide-bandwidth networking, and generally cognizant of global perspective through routine communication across decreasingly relevant borders. It is not too early to prepare for this: we need the ideas, the tools, and an awareness of the problems that accompany fundamental shifts in the meaning of information. The new bike, and the lifestyle that results, was a case study and feasibility test for much of this. I had already seen the effects of my earlier travels, especially back in 1983-4 when laptops, online services, solar panels, and recumbents were all so strange that people were startled into understanding. During the third trip and follow-up speaking tour, I appeared occasionally at schools to help plant the seeds early (while reminding students that the obvious choices are not the only ones). Consulting Business. Industry is requiring increasing specialization of its workers, due to the overwhelming amount of expert knowledge associated with every technology. This yields positive results but at a severe cost -- specialists inevitably lose sight of the big picture. There is thus a growing market for people who travel continuously among specialists, cross- fertilizing at every stop. No trade journal or annual conference can accomplish as much as a renegade cadre of curious technoid generalists, on the loose in industry. The companies that recognize their own necessarily narrow focus and take steps to keep it in context gain a competitive edge, and my nomadic lifestyle and extensive support technology keep me in touch with a very wide range of pursuits... and marketable. Product Potential. The new system addressed a number of basic needs: autonomous power generation, global communication, soft-architecture real-time control, nomadic publishing, security... and more. These needs are by no means unique to me, and casual market research suggests that there could be a wealth of spinoffs with the right strategic partner. I never really took advantage of this, but the thought is still there. Writing and Publishing. People are endlessly fascinated by life on the edge, the adventures of travelers, and peeks through curtains into other lives. Travel and writing are thus inextricably linked, and by carrying the most sophisticated tools available for biketop publishing, communication, and information-gathering, I minimize the number of excuses for not being productive while raising reader curiosity in the process. For an author, this whole gambit is a gold mine: endless story material, superb tools, and easy marketing based on a recognizable image. Adventure. This goes without saying. High-tech nomadness is fun, and my travel style insures interesting contacts in strange places. Routine life is impossible on a computerized recumbent with solar panels and a thicket of antennas... and there's a LOT of world to explore out there. Having had a taste of it, how could I spend my life in one place? Security. I once wrote that "the greatest risk of all is taking no risk." While that may be true, it does not mean that I relish the idea of being robbed, run over, or left to die of thirst with a broken axle in the desert. BEHEMOTH was designed with enough different kinds of communication gear to virtually insure that I can get a message out if necessary. Usually help is only a pushbutton away, via ham repeater or cellular phone -- in more remote areas, a few moments' preparation puts me on the HF bands or into a communication satellite. Community. This may sound odd at first, given the classic "loneliness of the long-distance traveler." But nomadness is the most social lifestyle imaginable for two reasons: global networking and the timeless energy of beginnings. The traditional concept of stability, normally restricted to neighbors, associates, and the familiar things that define "home," is now distributed around the world and constantly refreshed by encounters on the road. Home is everywhere, and I am constantly amazed by the intelligence and imagination lurking in the most unlikely places. (The mainstream high-tech world is provincial and technocentric... seldom recognizing that wizardry can thrive even in backwaters not steeped in the vapors of silicon. From unexpected quarters come new ideas.) Technical challenge. Finally, one of the most deeply alluring parts of this whole affair is the project itself. The whole system borders on madness, so diverse and intertwined has it become. The engineering aspects of this, ranging from sophisticated CAD tools to fancy new adhesives, represent a seductive and multifaceted learning curve coupled with the pure joy of creating something exciting. And one of the best parts is that the media visibility keeps attracting new sponsors, allowing me to select the very best technology that industry has to offer without being stopped in my tracks by something so mundane as cost. How could a dedicated hacker/tinkerer ever abandon such a project? The Microship, which is under development at this writing, carries this whole notion to even wilder extremes -- it's a technological addiction, spiced with high adventure.