| T.R | Title | User | Personal
Name | Date | Lines |
|---|
| 328.1 | Anatomy of a High-Tech Tour | EAGLE1::CAMILLI | | Fri May 29 1987 15:53 | 346 |
|
THE ANATOMY OF A HIGH-TECH TOUR
by Steven K. Roberts
Computing Across America
762 Churchill Drive
Chico, CA 95926
Copyright 1987 by Steven K. Roberts. All rights reserved.
NOTE: This file, first published in CALIFORNIA BICYCLIST, April,
1987, may be propagated through the computer networks without
explicit permission as long as it remains intact, including the
access information at the end. Cheers from the road!
Steven K. Roberts
Palo Alto, CA -- May 5, 1987
High-tech touring... That phrase, if you're a regular reader of
glossy bicycle magazines, probably evokes colorful images of
ultralight carbon-fiber frames and aerodynamic derailleurs. High tech
means light and sleek, right?
Well, what if I told you that I live full-time on a 220-pound
recumbent, and am roughly 12,000 miles into a journey of unknown
length? What if I also noted that the bike is equipped with 5
computers, as well as 2 solar panels, ham radio, data communication,
speech synthesis, and a handlebar keyboard? This is high tech of a
different flavor -- the 1.2 Megabyte Winnebiko II.
I have stopped in Silicon Valley for a 2-month system upgrade
marathon before heading back into the wilderness, and before I leave
TechMecca I'd like to introduce you to my machine.
But before I talk about the bike, I should make a few general
comments. Why did I trash a stable suburban Ohio lifestyle (that's
one reason right there) and move my freelance writing business to the
road? Why do I keep it up year after year, never tiring of the
madness, the risks, and the brutal constraints of gravity? Why do I
carry 50 pounds of electronic equipment? And... am I just an
eccentric or is there something in this for the REST of the bicycle
touring community?
MOVING TO THE ROAD
In the lingering Ohio winter of 1983, I started the usual
turning-30 self-questioning: why was I chronically in debt,
supporting a boring existence with every dollar I earned? Why was I
in Ohio? What did I REALLY want out of life? The answer, once I
looked past the list of essential new toys, was obvious: I want
learning, growth, passion, change, excitement, intelligent friends,
sex, publicity, high-tech gizmology, cycling, network access, hot
publishing deals, and a sense of FUN that pervades everything I do.
That's not too much to ask, is it?
My real world, in the context of all that, felt like prison. The
solution was self-evident... all I had to do was pack a portable
computer onto a recumbent bicycle and travel the country, supporting
myself by freelance writing along the way and using computer networks
as my "enclave of stability."
No problem.
A MEGABYTE BICYCLE?
Now you see why all the computers: the Winnebiko is my office,
my electronic cottage on wheels. It has been growing more and more
elaborate as the years pass... allowing full-scale word-processing
through a binary handlebar keyboard and data file transfer via packet
radio. I have decoupled from the real world, and move freely through
physical space while remaining solidly rooted in Dataspace. Home has
become a trio of rather non-traditional places: this radically
decked-out bike, America itself, and the thickening global web of
information networks that's accessible through any telephone. (My
home system is GEnie -- call me WORDY).
All of this is generally intriguing to people, especially
techies, cyclists, and would-be travelers. But let's take it beyond
that for just a moment and think about the cycling life.
Consider the normal bicycle tour: a week or a month, perhaps
more, a finite time bounded by financial constraints. But I've seen
the tragedy: travelers cutting back on food because the bank account
is down to three digits and sinking fast. Their sadness is tangible,
for they see the journey ending long before they want it to.
Another effect is the "macho cyclist" syndrome, which is fine on
the track but absurd on the road. I meet them too, but we never get
to talk very long. They've usually set themselves a grueling schedule
of hundred mile days, following a pre-planned route that's the closest
possible approximation to a straight line.
I have no quarrel with racers, of course, nor with those who
struggle to achieve their "personal best." But all too often, what
should be a relaxed and therapeutic bicycle tour is handled instead
like a corporate acquisition -- with all the myriad joys of discovery
obscured by deadlines and ruthless objectives.
It doesn't have to be that way. It took me 3,000 miles to stop
treating state lines as trophies... to realize that worrying too much
about where you're going destroys respect for where you ARE. Had I
not been liberated by technology that lets me make a living ANYWHERE,
I would never have had time to notice this fundamental truth.
THE WINNEBIKO SYSTEM
OK. Here's the technical content you've been waiting for -- the
anatomy of a high-tech bicycle (NASA style)...
My main computer is the Hewlett-Packard Portable PLUS, an exquisite
system with 1.2 megabytes of memory partitioned between system
RAM and electronic disk. The high-contrast amber LCD displays 25
lines of 80 characters, and a built-in 1200 baud modem makes the
daily electronic mail check-ins easy. But what really sells the
machine are the applications software packages baked into ROM:
Microsoft WORD, Lotus 1-2-3, dbase II, a "card-manager" filing
system, communications software, time manager, and a whole
library of utilities. The net effect is a robust bicycle
business system that runs on rechargeable batteries and weighs 8
pounds -- a system that has become so much a part of my daily
reality that I'm incapable of imagining nomadic life without it.
It rides behind me, nestled in foam along with a 3.5-inch disk
drive, sometimes accepting charge current from the bike's solar
panels.
Computer number two, built into the control console, was once a Radio
Shack Model 100 -- upgraded to 256K and made truly useful through
the addition of Traveling Software's Ultimate ROM. But the
machine is hardly recognizable: its keyboard and case are gone,
and the display appears on the front panel behind a lexan window.
What happened to the keyboard? It has been replaced by custom
logic that passes converted handlebar keycodes or software-
generated commands. This system is intended for on-the-road text
capture (not final editing), and thus connects with the HP via a
front-panel connector.
The third system is the "bicycle control processor" (BCP), based on a
Motorola 68HC11 board. This low-power machine embodies all of
the bike's real-time control and monitoring functions, including
handlebar keyboard code conversion, local network control
(linking the other systems with each other), electronic compass
processing, control of solar battery charging, security system
supervision, diagnostics, status display, and so on. Assisted by
about 50 IC's, this processor essentially runs the bicycle.
Computer number 4 is a speech synthesizer that speaks any text file
transferred to it. The value of this on the bike is threefold:
I can have the system read back my own text or incoming messages,
and it is a handy way to reduce the volume of identical questions
from curious bystanders. "I am the Winnebiko," it says (either
at predefined intervals or under radio control), going on to
explain the basics of this strange contraption. The speech board
can also respond to a security alert by saying "Please do not
touch me!" in a robotically threatening voice.
The fifth system is known as a "terminal node controller" -- a Pac-
comm product that handles packet data communication via radio.
An unusual breed of computer network has quietly appeared in the
last 2-3 years, a sort of digital anarchy of the airwaves, a
computer network without corporate substrate. Anybody with a ham
radio license and a bit of equipment can participate -- sending
mail cross-country, transferring files, conferencing, and so on.
The network is young, but already offers coast-to-coast trunk
connections, automatic message forwarding, dozens of linked
bulletin board systems, and its own orbiting satellite mailbox.
With packet operation possible from the bicycle via the handlebar
keyboard and LCD display, I can communicate data globally from a
campground or while pedaling -- even connecting to a gateway that
allows access to all commercial network services without the need
for a telephone. Ain't technology wonderful?
The handlebar keyboard itself is simple: four pushbutton switches are
buried in each foam grip, spaced about .75" apart. I type in a
binary code: my five strongest fingers, three on the right and
two on the left, produce the lower-case alphabet; the right
little finger capitalizes. The left little finger is the control
key, its neighbor selects numeric and special keys, and those two
together cause the others to take on system level meanings such
as file operations and major edit functions. In practice, it's
easy -- a lot like playing the flute -- with each combination
accepted by the system when all buttons are released.
So much for bicycle data processing. Now let's look at the other
facilities...
The mobile ham radio station (KA8OVA here) is a multimode 2-meter rig
from Yaesu. In addition to handling data communication, it
allows me to stay in regular voice contact with Maggie (my
recumbent-borne traveling companion). Bicycle touring without
some form of communication is frustrating, as anyone who as ever
squinted into the mirror for minutes at a time well knows. "What
happened to him? Is he OK back there?" With a boom microphone
built into my helmet and a push-to-talk switch on the handlebars,
Maggie is never far away (effective bike-to-bike simplex SSB
radio range is over 2 miles). Of course, having 2-meter FM
capability on the bike also connects me to a huge network of ham
radio operators: I store the local repeater frequencies into the
radio's memory as I approach an area, and periodically identify
myself as an incoming bicycle mobile. This has led to a number
of interesting encounters and places to stay. And -- through the
repeaters -- I can make telephone calls directly from the bike.
A CB radio is also on board, culturally useless by comparison, but
still handy enough to justify its weight. I can talk to
truckers, hail a passing motorhome for water (this saved my life
in Utah), and chuckle at the residual good buddy subculture.
System security is an issue when living on a machine that looks like
something from NASA. It's not that people try to steal it --
most are intimidated by the technology -- it's just that some let
their curiosity extend to flipping switches and tinkering. To
alert me to such behavior, I built in a security system with
vibration and motion sensors; when armed by a front-panel
keyswitch, any disturbance causes transmission of a tone-encoded
signal that sets off my pocket beeper up to 2-3 miles away.
Other radio-related devices include a digital shortwave receiver, a
Sony Watchman micro-TV, and an FM stereo. Naturally, there is
also an audio cassette deck, for sometimes (laws or no laws) it
takes more than a granny gear to climb a mountain...
Speaking of gearing, the bike is equipped with some unusual mechanical
hardware. A custom 36-speed crossover system of 3 derailleurs
provides a 16.9-inch granny gear, a 23-inch "high granny," and
half-step from 33 to 144. With the Zzipper fairing and the
recumbent's aerodynamic advantage, I can cruise comfortably at
15-17 mph (assuming a good breakfast and no unfriendly winds).
Peak speed so far, flying down a mountain, was 50.1.
Stopping power is critical with my 400-pound gross weight, of course.
Moving that much stuff downhill at 50 miles an hour is profoundly
exhilirating (on a recumbent, I might note, the entire world, not
just the road surface, blurs into an impressionistic confusion of
streaked light and color). But stopping is another matter. The
Winnebiko II has three brakes: a Phil Wood disc actuated by my
left hand and a pair of Mathauser hydraulics controlled by the
right. The disc is nice for speed regulation without rim heating
effects; the hydraulics will stop anything, outperforming the
various mechanical models I have tried and discarded over the
years. To control them with a single lever, I machined a header
for the master cylinders, with a sliding cable stop and
proportional transfer bar to permit a variable front-back braking
force ratio.
The frame itself was custom made by Franklin Frames of Columbus, Ohio
-- after I did enough brazing in my basement to convince myself
that framebuilding is an art form. The geometry is entirely
custom, suited to my giraffe body and the special requirements of
all this on-board hardware.
Power for the electronic systems is derived from a pair of Solarex
photovoltaic panels, producing 10 watts each in full sun (roughly
1.3 amps total into the pair of 4 amp-hour batteries). These new
SX-LITE units lack the traditional glass and aluminum frame, and
are each 12.5 X 17 inches. Since they can pump enough current
into the Ni-Cads to overcharge them, I have built in extensive
power monitoring and control circuitry: A digital panel meter
with a thumbwheel switch can show instantaneous current into or
out of each battery (as well as any system voltage), and the BCP
can throttle back the charging process if its calculations
indicate that the batteries are full (% charge values are
displayed on the console).
Other voltages besides the two 12-volt battery buses are needed
throughout the system, and this is one of those areas that can
cause significant overhead if attention isn't paid to losses.
There is a small aluminum box containing switching supplies that
coolly provide 3, 5, 6, 9, and -12 volts (all available on the
front panel for external accessories). Considering the special
requirements of a bicycle system, the extra design effort here
has paid off well: when the two processors required for text
editing are active, total system current drain is only 130
milliamps. A sixth power supply, unrelated to the others, is
mounted up front with a coiled cord to allow battery charging if
I have gone too long without sunshine.
Instrumentation on the front panel is largely geared to the major
electronic systems already described, but there is also the
obligatory Cat-Eye Solar to display speed, distance, cadence, and
so on. This elicits interesting comments from fellow bikies, who
stare at the machine in awe then suddenly recognize something
familiar. In addition, there is an altimeter (useful on
mountains, and also helpful in predicting weather conditions), an
Etak electronic compass, time/temperature display, and assorted
system status indicators.
Mechanically, the electronics package is designed to separate from the
bike with a minimum of effort. I open 3 toggle clamps, unplug 6
connectors, and take it into the tent at night, yielding a "tent
control system" just as useful as the mobile variety. The 40-
pound unit handles heavy downpours with no problem -- with the
fairing and velcro-on waterproof covers, it has withstood all-day
rides that quite saturated my Gore-tex. So far, the system has
suffered shock and vibration without incident, unfolding easily
for service but surviving heavy abuse on the road.
Safety factors are always a major concern when you habitually press
your luck by living fulltime alongside logging trucks, drunks,
motorhomes, and the routine madness of the highway. I have
become a firm believer in helmets, reflectors, orange flags, and
GOOD lights. Bicycle Lighting Systems offers a line of
industrial-grade products that quite outshine the typical bike
lights; I went with a 7-inch yellow barricade flasher that makes
me look like a roving hole in the road, a 2-inch red taillight,
and a 4-inch sealed-beam headlight. In addition, I have recently
added a Cycle-Ops halogen helmet light, which has the delightful
characteristic of putting light where I'm LOOKING, not just where
the bike happens to be pointing. (Admit it. You too have
zigzagged drunkenly through neighborhoods at night, trying to
highlight street and house number signs...). The bike is also
capable of making a lot of noise, with a regulated aluminum
pressure tank and handlebar button feeding a pair of air horns --
as well as manual override of the 130 db security siren.
Finally, the machine is equipped with all the usual bicycle touring
gear: stove, food, clothing, tools, candles, medical supplies,
microfiche documentation library, flute, binoculars, camera,
maps, digital test equipment, spare inner tubes, frisbee,
coffeemaker, office supplies, butane soldering iron, and so on.
My tent is a vast "Peak Pod 4" from Peak 1, very much in the
porta-condo class at 108 square feet under cover. Other outdoor
gear -- North Face down bags, Gore-tex rainsuit, Patagonia
bunting, polypro underwear, and so on -- is undergoing constant
revision as fabric technologies continue to improve.
There... a marathon overview of the Winnebiko. If any of this
seems insane, think about gravity and how long I would continue to
drag around something that isn't practical (and, preferably,
multifunctional). This is a wild blend of serious business and fun --
a case of personal computers and technology carried to an exquisitely
mad extreme.
If there's any message at all for fellow cyclists, it would be
along the lines of fashion. Right. This affair never would have
survived the confusion of startup if I had followed prevailing cycling
fashions. Ultra light weight, lycra tights, skittish frame
geometries, aerodynamic spoke nipples... all have their place on the
racing circuit. But if you're out there exploring the world on your
trusty machine, make it an appropriate one, matched to all your needs.
You -- and it -- will last longer.
NOTE: To order print editions of my monthly journal ($13 for 6
issues), the Computing Across America book ($10 autographed), posters
of the bike ($10), or a free flyer, contact:
Computing Across America Publications
762 Churchill Drive
Chico, CA 95926
916-891-5750
I can be reached via GEnie as WORDY, via CompuServe as 72757,15, via
UUCP/Internet as wordy@cup.portal.com, via packet as KA8OVA @ N6IIU-1,
or indirectly via arpanet-packet gateway as wordy%hobbes@ADS.arpa
(still experimental, and NOT OK for product ordering).
The end
|
| 328.2 | The book's here ... | RGB::SREEKANTH | Jon Sreekanth, Hudson, MA | Sun Sep 04 1988 23:56 | 56 |
| I just recently saw a review of the book Computing Across America,
written by Steven Roberts, after the ride, I guess.
The book is published by Learned Information Inc., 347 pages, $9.95
paperback, $14.95 hardcover, copyright 1988, ISBN 0-938734-18-0
Reviewed in Computer Shopper, Sep 1988, page 503, by Michael A Banks :
...
Basically, the book is everything its title and subtitle "The Bicycle
Odyssey of a High_Tech Nomad" say. But there's more to it than that.
The book certainly wasn't what I expected. After seeing background
material on the book from its publisher, background on Roberts in
the media, and some of Roberts' online journals, I anticipated a
dairy-like record of events, perhaps spiced with high-tech details
about his custom made recumbent bicycle, ham gear and computers.
And maybe a little overdone neo-New Age philosophy or burnt-out
late 1960's laid-backedness to add to the flavor (yeah, but I can
say that : I'm from that era).
Surprise : The events are there, and the high tech details are there,
but there's no preaching, and no heavy-handed philospophy.
The only philosophizing is of the observational type : here it is
and make what you will.
...
Roberts also shows us Roberts, in the form of an intensely personal
narrative that hides little, if anything. The back cover of Computing
across America bills the book as the "most uninhibited personal
journey on record". Well, it's certainly that. For openers, this
isn't a book for those who don't like four-letter words, or uninhibited
detailing (though neither is overdone. ) Roberts, to drag out the
badly-worn and creaking phrase of the sixties and seventies, tells
it like it is. Indeed.
We see flashes of temper and lust, realizations of shortcomings
and abilities - most of the range of human emotion. Roberts might
have painted a different picture of himself, perhaps a caricature
of a 6'4" gentle giant who floated through the experience of being
run off the road, pelted with bottles and cans, and worse with John
Lemon-like serenity. But he chose not to lie to the reader. In this
respect, Computing Across America is as much the story of the evolution
of an individual as it is the evolution of personal technology.
...
The complete rundown is beyond the scope of this review, but the
technically-minded will be interested to know that the Winnebiko's
specs include 54 speeds, two solar panels, 1.7Mbytes of computer
memory, a 3.5" disk drive, three modems, a speech synthesizer,
a motion sensitive paging security system, a TV set, a digital
shortwave radio, telephone access via autopatch, and - well you
get the idea. It's all in the book.
...
Copies of Computing Across America are available from the author
by mail for the cover price plus $2.00 for shipping and handling.
Write : Computing Across America, 1306 Ridgeway Ave, New Albany,
IN 47150.
|
| 328.3 | | CTCADM::ROTH | If you plant ice you'll harvest wind | Tue Sep 06 1988 10:32 | 4 |
| There was a short article in 73 magazine a while ago - I was pretty
amazed at it, and wondered what he did for a living...
- Jim
|
| 328.4 | From the road | TALLIS::JBELL | Ceci n'est pas une pipe. | | Thu Feb 16 1989 13:25 | 156 |
| An update from the nomad. I hope DEC doesn't consider this
recruiting for a competitor.
-Jeff
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
From: rec.bicycles,rec.travel 14-FEB-1989 01:55
To: @SUBSCRIBERS.DIS
Subj: High-tech nomadness: full-time touring for you?
Posted by: decwrl!ucbvax!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!cs.utexas.edu!rutgers!pyrnj!pyrdc!uunet!portal!cup.portal.com!wordy
Organization: The Portal System (TM)
Xref: decwrl rec.bicycles:8683 rec.travel:6102
HI...
I've been traveling full-time on a computerized recumbent since
1983, and am about to hit the road again with an all-new system. I
wrote the following invitation for the ham radio crowd, but barring
a few minor assumptions it fits here just as well....
Steven K. Roberts
Computing Across America
uucp: wordy@cup.portal.com
GEnie: wordy
west coast layover: 98 Sudbury Drive
Milpitas, CA 95035
408-263-0660
_________________________________________________________________
Year-Round Field Day?
an open invitation from Steven K. Roberts N4RVE
and Maggie Victor KA8ZYW
If you've been reading 73 Magazine for the past year, the
Winnebiko needs no introduction. But if this is your first look,
I need to give you a quick backgrounder before getting on with
the real, life-changing business of this story.
For about 5 years, I have been pedaling around the United
States on a 54-speed, 275-pound computerized recumbent bicycle. It
started in Columbus, Ohio 16,000 miles ago: a fancy getaway, a
blend of technoid passions, a ticket to romance and adventure.
And it succeeded beyond all reasonable expectations, evolving
from year to year as the bike kept frantic pace with technology
and publishers grew more and more interested in hearing about my
nomadic exploits.
Why all the technology? Simple: I run both my life and a
complex freelance business from the road, and I depend upon the
on-board systems to render my current geographic location
irrelevant. Five computers, cellular phone with modem, a packet
station, HF, 2-meters, solar panels, daily network connection...
it all adds up to a new definition of "home" and complete freedom
from the usual constraints of travel. I can wander forever if I
like -- or I could stop right now, here in the Bay Area.
But I have chosen to continue, and the new bike is under
construction in this Silicon Valley tech-mecca. The Winnebiko
III is more like an OSCAR satellite than a bicycle: a 32-node
resource bus managed by 68000 FORTH, two DOS environments and
numerous distributed microcontrollers, heads-up display,
automatic transmission, 118 watts of computer-managed solar panels
with 8 batteries, audio and serial crosspoint matrices, mobile HF
and packet, a business-band UHF data link between backpack and
bike-based file server, speech synthesis, regenertive braking,
GPS navigation for live mapping and security beacons, and, of course,
an OSCAR station (mode B). Why not? This whole caper has long since
passed critical mass: I'm in an endless loop of publicity,
sponsorship, fun, adventure, and writing projects... trapped in
my own playground and loving it.
Now.
It's time to do this a little differently. For 10,000 miles
I traveled solo, living from town to town, romance to romance.
Then, for 6,000 miles, I traveled with Maggie -- the sensuous YL
who willingly trashed her lifestyle to become a high-tech nomad.
Now it's time for us to expand the family...
This is a call to nomadics -- an invitation to all you wild
spirits suffering from chronic stir-craziness, to all who know
the madness of creative escape and ache to make the world your
home. You have already tasted the flavors of border-crashing
communication online or on the air... you're an anarchist, a
renegade, an electronic ambassador of a culture in transition.
You are restless, curious, and enchanted with tools that empower
the individual to compute, to communicate, to be free.
Does talk like this make your chest pound? Are your
priorities suddenly being rearranged like a fresh deck in Vegas?
Is the ol' nine-to-five taking on a new, and not altogether
flattering, perspective?
Maggie and I are hitting the road again soon with a loosely
coupled ad-hocracy of like-spirited individuals. The purpose?
To learn, play, teach, and use the magic of technology to open doors
worldwide and then waltz through them. The global amateur radio
community is our host, sharing that essential support function
with computer networkers, cyclists, writers, and others who
recognize the wanderlust and ache to share it through evenings in
their homes or contributions of equipment. We seem to have
touched something fundamental here, and there's plenty of it to
go around.
I'll save the details for one-to-one correpondence, but
here's the basic invitation: if you have creative skills to
offer a team of internationally traveling hams, are physically
and emotionally fit, and are free to make the commitment that a
year or more on the road entails, then I want to hear from you.
The sponsors are interested, the publishers are waiting in the
wings, subscribers want to read the monthly journal, clients want
us to get busy, audiences are hungry for stories, and there are
countless photo and video opportunities. All we need is
personnel. In addition to ham radio expertise, we need all of
the following...
Bike mechanic Professional photographer
Cook/nutritionist Business manager (corporate experience)
Logistics wizard PR/marketing person
Doctor or nurse Videographer
Bodyguard/Survivalist Well-published freelance writer
Network/PC programmer Traveler (major expedition experience)
Design engineer (MSEE) Desktop publishing expert
Masseuse/therapist Historian/geologist/generalist
Musician/magician/clown Research librarian
Programmer (controls) Graphic artist (pubs and advertising)
Public speaker Fabrics wizard
Machinist Cartoonist
RF/antenna designer Engineering technician (micros & SMD's)
This will be a full-time venture with a variety of profit
centers, and may be the only way to make a living by riding a
human-powered ham shack while sharpening your professional
skills, expanding your range of contacts, and slowly getting
famous. Does it sound like a dream? Well... it is. I've been
living it for five years.
If this strikes a chord and you want to discuss it, please
write to me immediately at 98 Sudbury Drive, Milpitas, CA 95035.
In your letter, tell me who you are, what you do, why you're
interested, what you can offer, and what you want out of life.
Send photos, publishing credits, claims to fame, secret longings,
resumes, and anything else of interest. Impress me. Make me
laugh with delight. Make me want to pick up the phone and and
ask you to go for a bike ride...
Cheers, 73, and see ya down the road...
Steve N4RVE
Oh, almost forgot:
If you'd like a signed copy of the Computing Across America book, send $11.95
(includes shipping) to the same address. Flyer free. Cheers!!!
-- Steve
|
| 328.5 | The next installment | RAINBO::TBAKER | Drat this dwarvish racket! | Mon Mar 13 1989 14:39 | 305 |
|
From: wordy@cup.portal.com (Steven K Roberts)
Newsgroups: rec.bicycles
Subject: The Winnebiko III -- Sneak Preview
Message-ID: <14881@cup.portal.com>
Date: 20 Feb 89 20:43:58 GMT
Organization: The Portal System (TM)
In response to a number of letters triggered by my "High-tech nomadness"
posting, I am uploading this chapter from my GEnie online Computing Across
America column... an overview of the new Winnebiko system. Like all
work-in-progress, it keeps changing -- this will inevitably become inaccurate
or incomplete as time passes. But here in February, 1989, it's about right.
Enjoy!
-- Steve Roberts, CAA
-------------------
Nomadic Research Labs
#49 in the second online CAA series
by
Steven K. Roberts, HtN (WORDY)
Milpitas, CA
February 20, 1989
Copyright 1989, Steven K. Roberts
Well, I'm doing it again. I'm living that old familiar
pre-launch blend of terror, overload, excitement, and project
management. Settled in the fringes of Silicon Valley with the Vacuum
Velocipodiatrist and Chip the fantasy sculptor, Maggie and I
entertain friends, build systems, work with sponsors, and spend
countless hours rearranging bits on hard disk. We putter in the
garden, chase off to speaking gigs, and even rent the occasional
video. We visit friends -- square dancing with little girls one
weekend, creeping through midnight woods the next, having business
meetings the next. We make forays to Livermore Labs to buy the
cast-off furniture of America's national defense establishment. And
through it all, the window of fleeting opportunity that separates
past from future moves inexorably onward, onward, bringing us slowly
closer to our next abrupt escape into everything that Silicon Valley
is NOT.
But for now we're Milpitian suburbanites pro tem, living in
comfort with friends. It won't last forever, of course, so we
chuckle at our luxurious space and flagrant energy consumption with
only occasional twinges of guilt, nuking the leftovers and waking to
the gentle pattering of automatic sprinklers. It seems an
extravagance, even though this is the low-rent end of the Valley (the
house we wanted back in Palo Alto rents for $30,000 a year... $82 a
day plus expenses. For a ROOF!)
The reason for all this illusory stability, of course, is the
Winnebiko -- that perennial obsession of mine, both mistress and
tyrant... that vaguely bicycle-like extravaganza of surface-mount
circuit boards and gleaming antennae. The machine is undergoing
surgery so major that I have begun to realize that it's becoming a
whole new bike, constructed of treasures imported from afar and mined
here in the Valley, all layered together like a silicon spanakopita
atop my faithful old recumbent frame. I haven't told you much about
the new system yet, other than to hint at satellite communications,
expanded computing power, and wide bandwidth user interfaces. Since
this chapter is a sort of literary pivot between bike generations,
perhaps now is the time...even though it's dangerous to write about
things that aren't done yet. Changes are assured, for every new
low-power bifurcated widgetframus that looks even halfway bikeable
sets my wetware CAD system afire with system-enhancement fantasies.
(There's the disclaimer.)
* * *
I suppose I should make a quick comment about the reason for all
this. You've already read the basics in previous CAA chapters, of
course: ticket to nomadness, agile computing tool, combination of
passions, gizmological door-opener, etcetera. None of that has
changed; it's only grown more ingrained over the years, part habit,
part obsession. There are a few new twists, though...
The next journey will be open-ended, and may well take us
overseas where rare is the access to modular phone jacks, power
outlets, and the whole automatic infrastructure of familiar American
society. To do this right, I want near-total independence in all
domains: computation, communication, electric power, propulsion,
life-support, and so on. This instantly escalates the Winnebiko
system to a new level.
That, plus the bottom line: it has to be fun. The old machine
is obsolete. It's architecturally inflexible and much too hardware
intensive. Changes of function require a soldering iron instead of a
screen editor. It does too little for its weight. There's no
computing horsepower of any real consequence, there's too little
solar power, setup of the radio systems is a pain, and, well, it's
just boring by current standards of engineering elegance. And so the
celebrated console system is being retired, consigned to a wood stand
under a dust cover in the CAA museum.
But rising like a Phoenix from the ashes of the past is the
Winnebiko III...
* * *
I don't want to go into too much detail here, for it could,
quite literally, fill a textbook. But during the coming months, as
these stories ooze slowly from solder-burned fingers into a laptop
buried in the clutter of my workbench, you might grow impatient for
real adventure. It's out there, believe me. Lots of it. But
first... the engineering adventure... a new machine.
There's lots of power on this one: my current system with 20
watts of solar panels, 12 amp-hours of batteries, and a plug-in
charger could never support all the new equipment. The new bicycle
carries 118 watts of solar panels, a regenerative braking system to
turn hard-won potential energy into something more useful than hot
brake pads, and the ability to use any external power source from a
car cigarette lighter to 220 AC. All this dumps into a charge bus,
which is tapped by three dedicated controllers attached to three 15
amp-hour batteries -- one in the trailer, one in the communications
equipment bay behind the seat, and one up front in the console.
Managing that is one of the myriad tasks performed by the
bicycle control processor (BCP) -- which is now a 68000 running
FORTH, linked by SCSI bus to an I/O expansion unit serving the whole
bike and a network of other computers. There are dedicated
microprocessors for text-to-speech synthesis, automatic transmission
control, satellite and ham station control, local area network
management, security and remote operations, variable-reluctance
motor-generator control, and so on.
None of this takes care of the applications layer -- that's all
to run the bike systems. On top of the whole control environment is
another network: two DOS systems (a 286 and a V40) to handle CAD,
satellite tracking, text, database, and software development. One
would be enough in theory, but the 286 board is power hungry... I use
the little one when primarily waiting for keystrokes and not
interested in heavy duty processing horsepower. The two share a 40
megabyte hard disk, a 3.5" floppy, and a tape backup unit. And along
with the obligatory math coprocessor, there may be an RTX-2000 FORTH
engine dedicated to image processing for video capture, hidden-line
plotting for topographic mapping, and other calculation-intensive
tasks.
I carry a separate laptop in the new manpack, of course, but
it's a lightweight machine. When off-bike and needing file support
(or wishing to check status of autonomous subsystems), I can sign on
via the UHF business band. The bike first responds at a low BBS-like
level, accepting a special command to boot the BCP for remote FORTH
command-line control of the whole system. If I want to get into the
DOS environment, another reserved word boots the 286 and redirects
console I/O via the radio link to my backpack system, eliminating the
need to carry heavy hardware anywhere except in the bike itself
(where there is space for good shock-mounting).
Any of the communications features can be accessed from any
operating level, whether in remote mode, from the handlebar keyboard
while pedaling, or from the maintenance keyboard while stopped.
Cellular phone modem, packet radio, local network control... all are
essentially servers on the network.
The new console, by the way, is designed to be as flexible as
possible. Most of its real estate is given over to a pair of giant
LCD panels -- one VGA backlit display (640 X 480) and the other a
more conventional laptop display. A surface acoustic wave
touchscreen covers both, and any processor can request either...
depending on power budget, ambient lighting conditions, and
resolution requirements. Typically, the BCP's status and maintenance
functions are on the little one, and graphics-intensive DOS (and,
eventually, Mac) applications are mapped to the big one. One
particularly interesting project is computer-generation of wireframe
map models, showing from any viewpoint the earth's surface in my
immediate vicinity with road vectors overlaid in bold strokes and my
own location a blinking arrow. (The databases are on CDROM; my
location is derived from a GPS satnav receiver.) Entries from the
contacts database can then appear as icons, which, when touched,
expand into text windows. In addition, if time permits, there will
be a helmet-mounted display that presents text or graphics "in the
sky" at a comfortable focal length. All this allows wider-bandwidth
I/O with the neuron-based parallel wetware system under the helmet,
with speech, three display spaces, a thumb mouse, handlebar keyboard,
and touchscreen as comm channels.
Other front panel devices include a miniature 300 dpi graphic
printer for sponsor referrals and business paperwork, digital
instrumentation for speed, cadence, altitude, temperature, time, and
raw power measurements, and a minimal assortment of switches and LEDs
to provide low-level maintenance access in the event of a major
system crash. The important thing here is that everything on the
bike, except for basic safety equipment like lights, is under
computer control and thus completely hackable.
The architecture that keeps this from being an interface
nightmare is the key to the whole machine. I call it a "resource
bus," linking as it does all nodes in the system -- power, audio,
serial, analog, and digital. The devices on the bus are diverse: a
MIDI music synthesizer, all dedicated micros, radio equipment,
cellular phone, stereo, digital answering machine, printer, fax
board, modem, nav system, speech synthesizer, audio function modules,
and so on. The bus is only a bus in philosophical terms -- up close
it's a massive FET crosspoint matrix with each junction controlled by
a bit in a write-only memory (finally a use for one of those!). The
implications are interesting: any interconnection is simply a matter
of programming (SMOP), which at the FORTH level is pretty easy. I'll
be able to run phone patches between ham radio and cellular while
mobile, remotely redirect local audio through an RF link to my pack
if security is triggered, perform diagnostics, have the bike's speech
synthesizer beacon on ham radio frequencies live updates of its
exact location if it's moved without the correct password, turn alpha
particle hits into MIDI boing events, fax out digitized video images,
and so on... all using the resource bus and some basic software
drivers.
Mechanically, the new bike is growing in sophistication as well.
I've never been happy with my brakes, so the new machine detects the
first displacement of the right-hand brake lever as a command to
begin proportionally drawing power from the trailer wheels via custom
microprocessor controlled hub motors. A hard squeeze invokes a
hydraulic disk brake on the rear wheel, and the other lever is a
purely hydraulic link to a front rim brake. The transmission is
changing too -- from a 54-speed manual to a 36-speed automatic.
Here, the processor monitors speed, pedal torque, cadence, heart
rate, and a keyed-in "wimp factor" that expresses my subjective
robustness... changing gears to optimize the impedance match between
bio-engine and wheels.
One of my big thrills in this has always been communication,
ever since those primitive few thousand miles in 1983-4 with 300-baud
acoustic cups and a CB radio. I've been carrying 2-meter and HF ham
gear for a while -- now there's a 10-meter rig built in to take
advantage of the sunspot peak, as well as 2-meter and 70cm multimode
rigs. An HF station is still on board with two antenna choices --
mobile vertical and wire dipole... and there are various links
between bike and backpack, my bike and Maggie's, and so on. But the
best part is the new OSCAR-13 station (modes B and J): I'll be able
to stop the bike, assemble a pair of crossed-yagi beams totalling
about 10 feet in length, fire up the satellite tracker software (it
calculates Keplerian elements, inputs my location from GPS or Loran,
and displays a world map showing the bird's location, azimuth and
elevation values, doppler shift, and other parameters). With this
new satellite, I'll have a hemisphere of coverage at a time during a
half-dozen 6-hour windows a week from anywhere in the world, with the
ability to communicate via full-duplex audio under solar power. The
uplink is about 30 watts... and the satellite's orbit takes it out to
22,000 miles at the apogee (2.8 earth diameters).
Let's see... what else? Oh -- what to do with extra solar power
from the 118 total watts available in full sun (almost 10 amps of 12
volts)? Simple -- the software can either throw it into the trailer
wheels for a 1/8 horsepower boost, or use it to cool a Peltier-effect
device buried in an insulated space behind the seat. This should
have some nice effects, including cold beer in a hot desert (one of
the world's great pleasures).
There are various standalone additions -- a miniature digital
oscilloscope, a butane soldering iron, and countless improvements to
the camping and touring gear. But you get the idea... this system is
an all-out effort aimed at creating a self-maintaining mobile
autonomous information platform, constantly in communication with a
worldwide network while freely wandering the earth's surface and
providing unlimited fun to the rider and companions.
And that's the kind of design spec I like.
* * *
Oh. I did mention the word "companions," didn't I? Two things
are happening that involve other people.
First, I've been putting the word out for a while that we're
looking for a few exceptional people to take up this life of
nomadness with us. The responses are trickling in... a lady named
Barbara is planning to travel with a high-end graphics and video
system to develop her concept for "artitorials," and I've been
getting mail in response to a recent usenet posting. There seems to
be a hunger for adventure afoot in the land. If you're interested in
knowing more, email me.
Second, the human intellects and energetic companies that are
cooperating on this new machine represent a truly dazzling resource
of creative ability. For almost six years, I've been collecting
wizards... and with some of the very best I am now forming an
ad-hocracy with two linked goals: market Winnebiko spinoffs and take
on selected consulting projects. If this one sounds interesting,
give Nomadic Research Labs a call at 408-263-0660.
That's enough for now. As the months wear on and the weather
turns seductive here at the base of the Diablo Range... as the
greening hills tease me with thoughts of whistling descents and
slowly changing vistas... as the legs tense in rhythmic urgency here
in my static space... I'll grow ever more desparate for the road.
It's out there, a near-infinite thing of wonder and possibilities,
unhurried, patient, waiting. I pound away on eccentric machinery,
implementing dreams, thinking all the while of that cold beer in the
desert. You'll be hearing from me at odd intervals: bear with me
until the adventure toggles once again from intellectual to visceral.
In the meantime...
Cheers from the lab!
Steve
|
| 328.6 | Updated Winnebiko III description | TALLIS::JBELL | Ceci n'est pas une pipe. | | Thu Jul 13 1989 18:31 | 317 |
| Newsgroups: comp.misc,rec.bicycles,rec.ham-radio
Path: sousa!shlump.dec.com!decwrl!ucbvax!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!cs.utexas.edu!uunet!portal!cup.portal.com!wordy
From: wordy@cup.portal.com (Steven K Roberts)
Subject: The Winnebiko III sneak preview
(This is a revised look at the work-in-progress on the Winnebiko III,
which is of course taking about three times as long as it should. Current
status is life in the fringes of Silicon Valley, up to my elbows in
various forms of poison goo as I do the cellulose-core, silicon-matrix,
polyester-filled composite wheeled auxiliary storage unit (CCSMPFC WASU),
otherwise known as a trailer of hot-glued cardboard with fiberglass over
it. Someday soon I'll smell solder instead of styrene again. Anyway,
the last version of this is pretty dated... if you're interested in
the new compu-bike, read on.... and viva nomadness!!!)
-----
The Winnebiko III: A Sneak Preview
A first look at the new Computing Acrosss America system
by
Steven K. Roberts
revised: June 28, 1989
Copyright 1989, Steven K. Roberts; first published in similar form
on the GEnie computer network. All rights reserved (but you may
distribute this freely as long as your recipients can).
It's happening again. The road is mission, obsession, and
lifestyle of choice. I have rented a house in the fringes of
Silicon Valley, built a lab, and begun the long, long process of
preparing machines, software, and bodies for the resumption of
full-time nomadness.
The reason for all this illusory stability, of course, is
the Winnebiko -- that perennial obsession of mine, at once
mistress and tyrant... that vaguely bicycle-like extravaganza of
surface-mount circuit boards and gleaming antennae. The machine
is undergoing surgery so major that I have begun to realize that
it's becoming a whole new bike, constructed of treasures imported
from afar and mined here in the Valley, all layered together like
a silicon spanakopita atop my faithful old recumbent frame.
This document is an attempt to characterize the new system,
though it's dangerous to write about things that aren't done yet.
Changes to this "spec" between now and late-1989 departure are
assured, for every new bifurcated widgetframus that looks even
halfway bikeable sets my wetware CAD system afire with
system-enhancement fantasies.
* * *
I suppose I should first make a quick comment about the
reason for all this. You've probably read the basics in other CAA
publications: ticket to adventure, agile computing tool,
combination of wide-ranging passions, gizmological door-opener,
etc. None of that has changed; only grown more ingrained over the
years, part habit, part obsession. There are a few new twists,
though...
The next journey will be open-ended, and will take us
overseas where rare is access to modular phone jacks, power
outlets, and the whole automatic infrastructure of familiar
American society. To do this right, I want near-total
independence in all domains: computation, communication, electric
power, propulsion, life-support, and so on. This escalates the
Winnebiko system to a new level.
That, plus the original bottom line: it has to be fun. The
battered old machine is obsolete. It's architecturally inflexible
and much too hardware-intensive. Changes of function require
soldering iron instead of editor. It does too little for its
weight. There's no computing horsepower of any real consequence,
there's too little solar power, setup of radio systems is a pain,
and, well, it's just plain boring by current standards of
engineering elegance. And so the celebrated switch-encrusted
console system is being retired, consigned to a wood stand under a
dust cover in the CAA museum where it might utter, now and again,
it's synthesized query: "Are you going to ride me now, Steve?"
But rising like a Phoenix from the ashes of the past is the
Winnebiko III...
* * *
I don't want to go into too much detail here, for a complete
description will, quite literally, fill a textbook. This is an
image painted in coarse, hurried strokes, only hinting at the
complexities of what it represents.
First, the basic substrate: packaging. The new systems are
distributed throughout the 12-foot bicycle-trailer combo, with
most computer and control hardware in a streamlined console up
front. This unfolds completely for service, and is designed to be
autonomous, shock-isolated, and RF-shielded. Behind the seat, a
second major enclosure carrries radio communications gear along
with a breakaway radio-linked manpack computer systems, and a
third subsystem devoted to satellite communication, HF, and power
management lives in the trailer. All regions are linked by a
power bus, high-speed data cables, multiplexed audio lines, and
miscellaneous control cabling.
A major issue, of course, is power. My current system with
20 watts of solar panels, 12 amp-hours of batteries, and wimpy
plug-in charger could never support all the new equipment. The
bicycle will now carry 92 watts of solar panels, a regenerative
braking system to turn hard-won potential energy into something
more useful than hot brake pads, and switching supplies to take
advantage of any external power source from a car cigarette
lighter to 220 AC. All this dumps into a charge bus, which is
tapped by dedicated controllers attached to three 15 amp-hour
batteries -- one in the trailer, one in the communications
equipment bay, and one up front in the console (plus a small one
in the manpack system).
Managing that is one of the myriad tasks performed by the
bicycle control processor (BCP) -- which is now a 68000 running
FORTH, linked to an I/O expansion unit serving the whole bike and
a network of other computers. There are dedicated microprocessors
for text-to-speech synthesis, automatic transmission, satellite
and ham station control, packet data communications,
instrumentation and diagnostics, MIDI control, local area network
management, security and remote operations, regenerative braking
system, and so on.
None of this takes care of the applications layer -- that's
all to run the bike systems. On top of the whole control
environment is another network: two DOS environments (a 286 and a
V40) to handle CAD, satellite tracking, mapping, text, database,
and software development. One is quite enough in theory, but the
286 board is power hungry... I use the little one when waiting for
keystrokes and am uninterested in spending energy on heavy
processing horsepower. The two share a 40 megabyte hard disk, a
3.5" floppy, and a streamer tape backup unit. And there may be
the innards of a Macintosh laptop as well, to support biketop
publishing and other graphics-intensive efforts.
I carry a separate laptop in the manpack, of course, but
it's a lightweight machine. When off-bike and needing file
support (or wishing to check status of autonomous subsystems), I
can sign on via packet datacomm in the UHF business band. The
bike responds at a low BBS-like level, accepting a special command
to boot the BCP for remote FORTH control of the whole system. If
I want to get into the DOS environment, a reserved word boots the
286 and redirects console I/O via the radio link to my backpack
system, eliminating the need to carry heavy hardware anywhere
except in the bike itself where there is space for shock mounting.
The backpack also hosts a 2-meter ham radio, as well as a
full-duplex audio link to the bike for cellular phone access,
local monitoring, security, dictation, and so on.
Any of the communications features can be accessed from any
operating level, whether in RF-linked remote mode, via the
handlebar keyboard while pedaling, or through the maintenance
keyboard while stopped. Cellular phone modem, fax machine, packet
radio, local network control... all are essentially servers on the
network right alongside processors and file devices.
The new console is designed to be as flexible as possible.
Most of its real estate is given over to a pair of LCD panels --
one VGA backlit display (640 X 480) and the other a more
conventional laptop display. A touchscreen covers the VGA, and
any processor can request either... depending on power budget,
ambient lighting conditions, and resolution requirements.
Typically, the BCP's status and maintenance functions are on the
little one, and graphics-intensive DOS applications are mapped to
the big one (the Mac display will flip down, exposing both at
once). One particularly interesting project is computer generation
of wireframe map models, showing from any viewpoint the earth's
surface in my immediate vicinity with road vectors overlaid in
bold strokes and my own location a blinking arrow. (The databases
are on CDROM; my location is derived from a GPS satnav receiver;
maps are drawn by the CAD package.) Entries from the contacts
database can then appear as icons, which, when touched, expand
into text windows. In addition, there will be a helmet-mounted
display that presents text or graphics directly to my right eye at
a comfortable focal length, with ultrasonic sensors detecting my
head angle for mouse and window management. All this allows
wider-bandwidth I/O with the neuron-based parallel wetware system
under the helmet -- using speech, four display spaces, a thumb
mouse, handlebar keyboard, and touchscreen as comm channels.
Other front panel devices include a miniature graphic
printer for sponsor referrals and business paperwork, digital
instrumentation for speed, cadence, altitude, temperature, time,
inclination, elevation, torque, effective frontal area, and raw
power measurements, and a minimal assortment of switches and LEDs
to provide low-level maintenance access in the event of a major
system crash. The important thing here is that everything on the
bike, except for basic safety equipment like lights, is under
computer control and thus completely hackable.
The architecture that keeps all this from becoming an
interface nightmare is the key to the whole machine. I call it a
"resource bus," linking as it does all nodes in the system --
power, audio, serial, analog, and digital. The devices on the bus
are diverse: a MIDI music synthesizer with handlebar keyboard or
voice input, all dedicated micros, radio equipment, cellular
phone, stereo, digital answering machine, printer, fax board,
modem, nav system, speech synthesizer, audio function modules, and
so on. The bus is only a bus in philosophical terms -- up close
it's a massive FET crosspoint matrix with each junction controlled
by a bit in a write-only memory. The implications are
interesting: any interconnection is simply a matter of
programming, which at the FORTH level is relatively easy. I'll be
able to run phone patches between ham radio and cellular while
mobile, remotely redirect local audio through an RF link to my
pack if security is triggered, perform diagnostics, have the
bike's speech synthesizer beacon on ham frequencies live updates
of its exact location if it's moved without the correct password,
turn alpha particle hits into MIDI "boing" events, fax out
digitized video images via celphone or radio, receive and display
satellite weather maps, and so on... all using the resource bus
and some basic software drivers.
Mechanically, the new bike is growing in sophistication as
well. I've never been happy with my brakes, so the new machine
detects the first displacement of the right-hand brake lever as a
command to begin proportionally drawing power from the trailer
wheels via custom microprocessor controlled hub motors. A hard
squeeze invokes a hydraulic disk brake on the rear wheel, and the
other lever is a purely hydraulic link to a front rim brake. The
transmission is changing too -- from 54-speed manual to 36- speed
automatic. Here, the processor monitors speed, pedal torque,
cadence, heart rate, and a keyed-in "wimp factor" that expresses
my subjective robustness... changing gears to optimize the
impedance match between bio-engine and wheels.
One of my big thrills in this has always been communication,
ever since those primitive few thousand miles in 1983-4 with
300-baud acoustic cups and a CB radio. I've been carrying 2-meter
and HF QRP ham gear for a while -- now there's an all-band HF
transceiver built in for global communication, as well as 2-meter
and 70cm multimode rigs and an amateur television station. There
are three classes of antennae -- mobile verticals, folding beams,
and dipoles... and there are spread spectrum data links between
bike and backpack, my bike and Maggie's, and so on. But the best
part is the new OSCAR-13 station (modes B and J): I'll be able to
stop the bike, assemble a pair of crossed-yagi beams about 10 feet
long, and fire up the satellite tracker software (it calculates
Keplerian elements, inputs my coordinates from GPS or Loran, and
displays a world map showing the bird's location, azimuth/
elevation values, doppler shift, pointing angle, and other
parameters). With this satellite, I have a hemisphere of coverage
at a time during a dozen or so windows a week from anywhere in the
world, with the ability to communicate via full-duplex audio under
solar power. The uplink power is 25 watts... and the satellite's
orbit takes it out to 22,000 miles at the apogee (2.8 earth
diameters).
Let's see... what else? Oh -- what to do with extra solar
power from the 92 total watts available in full sun (7.6 amps of
12 volts)? Simple -- the software can either throw it into the
wheels for a .1 horsepower boost, or use it to cool Peltier-effect
solid-state cooling devices installed in my helmet and buried in
an insulated space behind the seat. This should have some
soothing effects, including cold beer in a hot desert (one of the
world's great pleasures).
There are various standalone additions -- a miniature
PC-linked digital oscilloscope with outboard spectrum analyzer, a
butane soldering iron, and countless improvements to the camping
and touring gear. But you get the idea... this system is an
all-out effort aimed at creating a self-maintaining mobile
autonomous information platform, constantly in communication with
a worldwide network while freely wandering the earth's surface
under human and solar power, supporting a freelance writing
business and providing unlimited fun to the rider and companions.
Now that's the kind of design spec I like.
* * *
Oh. I did mention the word "companions," didn't I? Two
things are happening that involve other people.
First, I've been putting the word out for a while that we're
looking for a few exceptional people to take up this life of
nomadness with us. The responses are trickling in... there seems
to be a hunger for adventure afoot in the land. If you're
interested in knowing more, let me know.
Second, the dozens of human intellects and over 100
energetic companies that are cooperating on this new machine
represent a truly dazzling resource of creative ability. For
almost six years, I've been collecting wizards... and with some of
the very best I am now forming an ad-hocracy with two linked
goals: market Winnebiko spinoffs and take on selected consulting
projects. If this one sounds interesting, give Nomadic Research
Labs a call at 408-263-0660. We need help on some of the new bike
systems, and I get a lot of requests for consulting time...
there's plenty of work to share.
That's enough for now. As the months wear on and the
weather turns seductive here at the base of the Diablo Range... as
summer days tease me with thoughts of whistling descents and
slowly changing vistas... as the legs tense in rhythmic urgency
here in my static space... I'll grow ever more desparate for the
road. It's out there, an infinite thing of wonder and
possibilities, unhurried, patient, waiting. I pound away on
eccentric machinery, implementing dreams, thinking all the while
of that cold beer in the desert. Soon the adventure will toggle
once again from intellectual to visceral and the real stories
shall resume.
In the meantime... cheers from the lab!
Steven K. Roberts, 98 Sudbury Drive, Milpitas, CA 95035
voice: 408-263-0660 GEnie: wordy CIS (rarely): 72757,15 uucp:
wordy@cup.portal.com well: wordy
|