What's your footprint?

Every so often I like to visit one of those online carbon footprint calculators to check in to see how good I’m doing. There’s a lot of calculators online but I like this one the best (it allows you to fine tune your answers and paint a better picture of your true usages). So even with my recycling, my minimal meat consumption, my 45+ mpg car and my limiting my air travel to bare minimum, I’m still at 10.48 metric tons of CO₂ created by my lifestyle; 50% less than the US average, but still way above where we all need to be. My biggest culprits? The 2.29 metric tons created by my use of heating oil (necessary to keep my house/pipes from freezing in winter) and my car, my sweet little car at 3.20 metric tons for 15,000 miles of driving. Another great thing about this calculator is that you can instantly see how small changes affect your CO₂ footprint: like switching from eating only white meat to becoming a vegetarian saves a half ton of CO₂ or driving 5,000 miles less a year saves a full ton of CO₂.

www.carbonfootprint.com/calculator.aspx

Why I Didn't Buy A New Car Yesterday

(also known as "Why I Paid $4000 for a New Battery Instead".)

I’ve had my hybrid for almost 8 years now, driven it almost 150,000 miles and most of that was long range cross country driving (at least 10-15 trips). But when the good ole check engine light went on accompanied by the IMA battery light, I knew I was in for the day every hybrid owner dreads from the day you are first handed your keys. For those of you who don’t know there are 2 batteries in a hybrid, 1 is the usual car battery that all cars have, (that turns the car on, powers your radio, and can be easily restarted by flagging down a neighbor with a pair of jumper cables). The IMA (or Integrated Motor Assist) battery is what helps make a hybrid a hybrid. It’s what transfers the energy caused by braking to recharge the battery and adds additional power from the electric motor to increase fuel efficiency. But when the IMA battery is set to crap out, that’s when the tree-huggin’, reusable bag totin’, organic market-shoppin’ hybrid owner threatens a fatwa on Honda Motor Corp.

I previously had one of my IMA batteries replaced, but a dealer thought I could still be eligible for the 10 year/150,000 warranty that California had extended. No dice. After some fine begging by Gail of Lundgren Honda of Auburn, MA, we were told even though the car was bought and operated in California for most of ownership, since it was now registered in Maine, warranty: null. I could however pay to have the car shipped back to California, have it re-registered there and then they’d honor it… but doing the math, it seemed this would just end up costing me just as much (and the ecological impact of that seemed ludicrous).

So out came the credit card (actually several, since I had to pay for the battery and shipping in full before it was ordered) and now we wait for it to arrive from somewhere far off magical land (most likely Japan).

Some might think it’s crazy to shell out $4000 for a car that’s already 8 years old, but there is method to my madness. New car manufacturing is an unbelievable resource hog. And I have made a promise that my next car will get better gas mileage than the one I have now. When my 8 year old car still regularly gets 45-50 mpg, I think it’s safe to say, I’m not going to find a used car with that kind of mileage for around $4K. And the battery replacement fits into my ethos of “use it up, make it do, or do without”. Another teaching lesson here, is discovering a forum of fellow 2003 HCH owners, (http://www.amid.com/werd/hybrid-woe-ima-battery) which may or may not turn me into one of those “My Car is Better Than Your Car” aficionados. This community shows me that HCH owners are getting upwards of 200K miles and still going… my goal drive my little ‘brid till they take it out of my cold dead hands!

Let’s do some off-settin’!

‘Tis the season to think back on how much impact I’ve had on the planet this year.

It’s not a secret that I love to drive long distances (and conversely hate to fly, but sometimes it’s unavoidable for work) so I figured I’d add up all my miles on the road this year and head over to Terrapass and offset the carbon I’ve created.

Car Travel
2 round trip cross country trips (and a good 6 months of Los Angeles driving) in the ’03 Civic Hybrid totaling 20,216 miles, which equals 9,316 lbs of CO2.

Air Travel
7 plane trips totaling 12,049 miles of air travel equaling 4,148 lbs of CO2 emitted.
All told, 1,000 lb offsets at Terrapass are $5.95 each, so for under $84 I’ve offset my yearly travel with donations to renewable energy sources such as wind farms and livestock methane capturing. A very small price to pay for my contribution to global warming.

'1,000-Mile Summer' Wrap Up

So the ‘1,000-Mile Summer’ officially ends tomorrow (fitting that summer officially ends tomorrow...) But how'd we do? Since June 1st, the total miles ridden on my bike topped out today at 730.6 miles, considerably less than my goal of 1,000, (though I did manage a respectable push on the last day adding an additional 20.7 miles). But even more respectable, the total number of miles DRIVEN during that same time frame: 1,421 miles—(considering 6 day weeks x 11 weeks at 28 miles round trip to work is 1,848 miles right there, plus whatever galavanting I would have done on the other 39 days).  And if you include the mass transit miles into my bike mileage total, it surpasses the 1,000-mile mark easily.

But what did I learn from this experiment? First of all, it can be done--you can have a job with crazy hours and travel to and from IN LOS ANGELES by bike and mass transit. I learned its not so scary to ride at night (most areas I rode through were almost as bright as daylight, I always wore my blinky light and often even at 10p or later there were other cyclists on the road. I learned that LA has a vast mass transit system that may be flawed in many ways, but is still often faster than auto travel many days. (and seriously Transit Authority, no one except me is paying to take the subway. You should look into that.) I finally learned out how to get myself a pay-as-you-go bus/rail pass, even if it meant traveling 35 miles to the closest location, only to find out that Culver City government offices were on a work furlough that day. (Thanks to my Culver City-resident pal Dina for loading up my card and then mailing it back to me.)  I learned that on days when I rode to work, I was calmer and more positive. I felt stronger top to toe (my shoulders felt way less tense) and I ate like a horse to keep up with all the calories I was consuming. I learned that I’m way more apt to ride to work when there’s a challenge involved, and this was a challenge not even backed up by peer pressure or wagering. Imagine how far I could go with a little financial incentive behind me!

An announcement today from the EPA, that starting September 1, 2008, car dealers will be required to list the fuel economy AND the average yearly fuel cost for new vehicles on the dealership stickers. Also taking effect are more realistic miles per gallon calculations, which use real world travel to gauge more accurately fuel efficiency. These new practices are designed to help remove "sticker shock" so you know what you're getting yourself into when you're shopping for a new ride.

Zen and the Art of Amtrak: Part 3

When Amtrak is doing what it should, it’s a wonderful experience. I mean it! Turns out the westward trip from Chicago to Los Angeles wasn’t just on time, but we ended up being 45 minutes early arriving into Union Station. Perfect way to end my trip.

I find myself just staring out at the landscape most of the time on the trip. After about an hour, I catch myself and think, shouldn’t I be doing something productive? But there is definitely something peaceful about watching the country roll by at a leisurely pace. Even the…let’s call them, ‘less fortunate areas’ (only because, who wants train tracks 6 feet from their back porch?)…were peaceful to watch. It was also interesting to watch the progression of each environment come and go. The wide open deserts of south eastern California, the painted desert of Arizona, the red clays of Albuquerque, the greens and yellows of the low lands of Colorado, the farms and prairies of Kansas, Iowa and Illinois, the steel paradise of Chicago, the rolling hills of Pennsylvania. Each is so unique that now I could probably tell you where I was just by looking at a picture. How am I supposed to get any work done with that rolling by right outside my window?

Zen and the Art of Amtrak: Part 2

When taking the rails, the first rule of Zen and the Art of Amtrak is foremost: “It’s not the destination, it’s the journey.” If you’re brave enough to attempt the cross country rail trek, you must be willing to throw your schedule out the window. Do not schedule anything for 24 hours after your arrival in either direction. Trust me. If you give yourself that 24 hour buffer zone, your trip will be that much more relaxed, so that the odd derailment, mechanical failure, 2 hours waiting for goddamn freight trains to pass you in the middle of the night (more on those later) will seem like nothing but small trifle on the great adventure that is your Amtrak journey. Okay, so that’s overstating it just a tad. Even the Dalai Lama would probably be swearing like a longshoreman some of these bumps in the road. It’s just important to know that no one should ever take the train to rely on the schedule that Amtrak has set. They are so notorious off time that I can’t believe they haven’t built in at least one secret hour onto all scheduled routes. So far all of my trips this “adventure” have been at least a half hour late, and the lateness goes up exponentially, the longer the trip. Just for laughs, I thought I would play the home game with the handy time schedule provided in my Superliner Roomlette (quite nice for myself, I think that if I had to share this with another person, even one of my nearest and dearest, it might not be so Zen). The time schedule is nice because not only does it give you the time you’re supposed to arrive at the next station, but it gives you the miles between stations so when the train is moving at a speed that you could walk faster than, you can weep extra hard at thinking how much further you have to go.
Our kickass conductor Bree (I can call her that now, since boarding she’s already threatened to throw 2 people off the train, one for smoking the other for opening a door while we were stopped) is determined to get this bucket of bolts back on schedule which makes playing the home game that much more entertaining.Here's a view from the front, bug guts and all. And an early morning glimpse of La Junta, CO site of the train clearing detour from the west to east version of my trip back in September.

Zen and the Art of Amtrak: Part 1

(Here's a series of dispatches written while criss-crossing the country via rail but unfortunately not posted until now, because well, Amtrak is still working on that wifi situation.)

Zen and the Art of Amtrak: Part 1

I’m a little like a battered wife with my relationship with Amtrak: I tend to forget all the bad things they’ve put me through and come running back for more of the same. At least I’m not surprised anymore by it. But I’m still prone to defend them to anyone who questions my sanity for being a repeat train cross country traveler. Case in point: after a derailment (or “putting the train on the ground” in railroad lingo) interrupted my trip from west to east, causing a 4 hour wait for a bus to show up and drive us around it, resulting in a nine hour late arrival to Chicago, which caused everyone to miss their connecting trains and thus forced us all to spend an extra 22 hours in the Windy City…even after all that, did I say, “Hmm maybe we should switch back to planes?” Nope. And this morning, after arriving in Chicago another hour and 45 minutes late did I say, “hmmm, really is it just my train travel that’s cursed, that would be pretty odd…” Nope. Back on the train for another dose of sado-masochism. This evening’s adventure came in the form of some sort of “mechanical difficulty” less than 150 miles out of Chicago (that’s 2050 miles AWAY from our final destination for those keeping score at home) where apparently something started sparking (I could hear it from where I sit, sounded just like when someone doesn’t close the between train car doors and it bang bang bangs until someone gets fed up enough to close it tight) and then apparently flames shot out to the side of the train. Damn, I miss all the good stuff. God love this crew (at least so far… at 150 miles, even the fact that they’re just giving us information about what’s going on is still leaps and bounds ahead of any other crew I’ve dealt with so far on this “adventure”) So we sat, on the tracks, in the middle of an Illinois corn field while the crew stood outside and assessed the sitch. My vantage point is approximately 3-4 cars back from the engine so I could hear them talking about the problem but didn’t want to listen too closely because I didn’t want to hear those dreaded words about turning back to Chicago. Or riding to Kansas City without power. But once again, god love this crew, they had us up and running in probably just a half hour. I may have to hold my breath the rest of the trip so I don’t jinx it.
I think this is the offending cable that caused the stoppage. It will furthermore be housed in an unused roomette near the bathrooms.

Traveling: Spontaneity is actually the spice of life

So one of my favorite joys of simplicity is the ability to be spontaneous. After getting too sick to fly to a friend's wedding in New Orleans last week, spontaneity kicked in. Boarding pass in hand, announcement to board, and I'm throwing up in the restroom. Less than 3 minutes later, I've gotten my bag off the plane, I've driven out of the parking garage and realizing that I really did not want to miss the wedding of two of my best friends. So my highly trained driving skills kicked into high gear. That's right, I literally drove out of the airport parking garage to New Orleans. Well, I stopped, but not as often and others might think necessary. 2 days later (and 1,900 miles) I was in Louisiana. Now many would stop and say, "that doesn't seem like a very simple way to get across the country!" But I beg to differ. Stick to the interstate (I-10 will get you the whole way there), drink only water (caffeine will actually make you more tired eventually and play tricks with your mind), stop at grocery stores instead of fast food places, and Motel 6 will always leave the light on for you. Believe it or not, the wedding truly proved to be worth the 4,000 mile round trip. Good friends, good times. Even got to meet a new baby cousin on my way back through Tucson.

There's always room for improvement of course, and next time I'd like to research locations of BP gas stations in Texas (due to their alternative energy commitment, they're my gas of choice...I saw a few, but none ended up being readily convienent like they are in LA), I would also research Amtrak's Super Liner service which was partially suspended by Katrina but still runs on a limited basis (driving to Tucson then trainining it would have been a nice combination), and it probably would have been a good idea to have a check up on my car before embarking on a road trip of this caliber. But the 'brid performed wonderfully, (even against Texas drivers who are among the country's rudest.)

Hopefully this excursion will quash any long distance driving tendencies for the immediate future!


View from the road: Wind power in the southland!

Traveling: Sin City Day 2

Day 2, my room at the Nugget isn't too shabby. My original plan was to at least try to take the stairs from my 15th floor room to get at least SOME exercise during my stay here. After noticing the Emergency Exit sign on the door, I thought it best to call before setting off an alarm that would empty the building. Alas, the operator informed me that the door was in fact alarmed (despite nothing saying so on the sign nor the notation Emergency Exit ONLY which usually deter me from opening such doors). Staying simple in sin city is not simple at all.

Traveling: Sin City Day 1

I have arrived in Vegas, and only a few hours in I can feel the effect of cigarette smoke on my body: headache, dry mouth, watery eyes. But I'm committed to this experience and I have resolved not to complain too much about it. With that said, before I left LA I loaded the car up with my favorite snacks: apples, trail mix, clif bars, which will see me through a few meals a day and keep me out of the buffet and fast food options. I also packed a bunch of my own water since from the experiences of 17 trips cross country, I have learned that if I don't my mouth will get all chewed up from the change in mineral content of local waters. Plus it saves a few bucks at the C-store. Meant to bring my own sheets since I've also noticed that hotel sheets have always made me super itchy (can't decide if it's bed bugs or super bleach and detergent combo either way, I rarely sleep well in hotels). Trying to stay hydrated and have snarfed a few Emergen-C's to keep my white blood cells perky.

Traveling: Simple in Sin City v.1

So I'm off to Vegas this weekend for a week long job ... and beginning a private experiment on how to keep simple while on the road. It's an ambitious destination to start the project but they're sending me there, so I go. My tolerance of Vegas is usually 48 hours max before I start begging to get the hell out: I never gamble, my body hates cigarette smoke, and the blatant excess and waste of resources just makes my skin crawl. Can a simplist survive in Sin City for a full week? Stay tuned...