Crave

Escape from Berkeley is a race planned for the July 4 weekend that will task contestants with getting an alternatively powered vehicle from Berkeley, Calif., to Las Vegas.

(Credit: Escape from Berkeley)

Update July 19, 2008: Escape from Berkeley is now scheduled for Oct. 10-13, 2008.

If you're a regular reader of Geek Gestalt, but not of its sister blog, Green Tech, I thought I'd point you to an entry I just posted there about what sounds like one heck of a cool event scheduled for this summer.

The so-called Escape from Berkeley race will task contestants with getting their non-petroleum-based fuel vehicles from the famously liberal Bay Area city to the famously outrageous Sin City, Las Vegas, over the July 4 weekend.

Part Burning Man, part Power Tool Drag Races, part DARPA Grand Challenge, Escape from Berkeley should be a sight to behold.

For more information now, however, check out my entry on Green Tech.

The route for the Baja 1000 road race that begins next week in Ensenada, Baja, Mexico. One team, from San Jose, Calif., plans to run the 1,300 mile route in a 1969 Volkswagen Beetle loaded up with modern communications equipment.

(Credit: Jim Graham)

SAN JOSE, Calif.--If you were to see this 1969 Volkswagen Beetle, missing a couple of tires, its engine compartment and hood open, and its interior feeling very much like a work in progress, you'd probably mistake it for one of the countless automotive projects currently under way in American garages and driveways.

You certainly wouldn't think any special was afoot.

But this is no normal '69 Bug.

No, this little machine, which on a Friday afternoon still looks a lot closer to a junkyard than a highway, is actually awaiting the finishing touches that will have it ready to race in next week's Baja 1000 race, one of the world's most-grueling, and one that (hopefully) will take its owners across 1,300 miles of unforgiving roads up and down the Baja peninsula.

And it's going to be loaded down with the kind of high-tech gear that will make it possible for its owners, a team of 12 dedicated people from all over Silicon Valley known as Desert Dingo, to know precisely where they are at any moment, to know what giant pothole might be around the next bend and to Twitter every little development back to the rest of the world as it unfolds.

Their goal? Run the whole race--their car is entered in Class 11, for stock VWs--in the 53 hours they're allotted, all while staying safe, sane and having the time of their life. And counting on a passel of high-tech gear to do it all.

Graham said he got the idea for running the race while watching the racing documentary Dust to Glory earlier this year. He got on the phone with some friends, and next thing you know, they were out in search of a Beetle to run the race with.

"Class 11 is the lowest (race) class," Graham said, "but everyone roots for them because if you can get (one of the cars) across the desert, you've got something."

This VW has been specially decked out for the race. Graham explained that he called Eric Solorzano, a nine-time Baja 1000 Class 11 winner, in search of advice on how to put the car together and that, next thing he and his team knew, Solorzano had agreed to build them an engine, even though the car would be up against his own in the race.

These guys, meanwhile, are all from Silicon Valley, and so they decided that they had to gear the car up.

"Because we're all Silicon Valley geeks," Graham said, "we figured we would trick it out with as much electronics as possible."

Jim Graham, one of the leaders of the Desert Dingo Baja 1000 team, shows off the handheld GPS unit and the satellite phone his team will use to stay in touch while running the race.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET News.com)

So, Graham explained, they will be carrying three GPS units and at least one satellite phone. The idea is to be able to know exactly where they are at any point and for him to be able to Twitter everything that happens almost in real time.

One innovation Desert Dingo will employ is to take the basic GPS course data provided by race organizer SCORE and add to it.

"We went a step further and bought data from a team that pre-ran the course," Graham explained, "and what they did was annotate the data with all the hazards on the course, such as big rocks, sheer cliffs, water crossings, and silt, with silt probably being the worst."

Thus, he added, "as we're driving, we'll know everything that's coming up."

Graham is also toting along a satellite phone, which he is hoping will allow him to send Twitter updates about the car's progress. He's not certain he'll be able to file the updates directly from the phone, but if not, he'll relay them via text to someone in a support vehicle who will them post them to the Internet.

"I'll (Twitter) the status of the car, or what a section of the route was like," he said. "Whatever I can fit in 140 characters."

One additional convenience Desert Dingo decided on was paying someone to handle the team's pit stops for it. So, by calculating how far they could make it on a single 15-gallon tank of gas, they've figured out exactly where to set up the pit stops along the route.

And while teams like Desert Dingo are relying on GPS for navigation, others have no choice to but to utilize the written directions provided by SCORE. Graham said his team will carry a copy of the directions in the car in case everything fails.

While many Baja 1000 teams will have high-tech navigation equipment to help them run the grueling race, some will have to rely on written directions.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET News.com)

And while Desert Dingo doesn't look like its hopes to win the race, it is hoping that it can raise some money for Diabetes research. On its Web site, it is accepting donations, which will go entirely to the International Diabetes Foundation.

Ultimately, putting together a project like this, especially for first-timers like Desert Dingo, was quite the challenge. The team, many of whom are Burning Man veterans, has been working hard at it since March, has spent about $20,000 and is hoping its preparations will allow it to finish the course.

"It's all about figuring out what the variables are and managing them," Graham said. "It's like doing a theme camp at Burning Man. Except tis theme camp will be moving 25 miles an hour and it's for 1,300 miles."

Maker Faire safety officer Joseph Pred talking to Star Wheel creator Paul daPlumber about any safety issues that might come up with the bicycle-technology-powered carnival ride.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET Networks)

AUSTIN, TEXAS--Joseph Pred is carefully eyeing the giant rolling ferris-wheel-like carnival ride as it begins to head down the first hill it has encountered since being built three years ago.

Known as the Star Wheel, the bicycle-technology-powered ride is glorious fun. But since it carries three pedaling people in its interior, Pred is very interested in making sure that the Star Wheel's creators are in control of it as it starts to head down the hill.

Pred is the safety officer for Maker Faire, the weekend-long celebration of do-it-yourself culture that's wrapping up here today. He's in charge of making sure that the million moving parts that make up such an event don't result in things going wrong and people getting hurt, or that at least if someone does get injured, it's not because of negligence on the part of the organizers or the exhibitors.

And right now, his focus is entirely on the Star Wheel and its initial encounter with degrees of incline.

"They're testing it because they've never done it on a grade," says Pred as he watches the wheel's progress. "They're testing the tolerances. My job is to observe and help them figure it out and give them a nudge. And they're doing a good job."

I've come here to Austin to report not just on Maker Faire--as I've done before--but also to write about what goes on behind the scenes. So talking to someone like Pred, who is invisible but crucial to the countless artists and attendees at an event like this, seemed natural.

This role is no stretch for Pred: He's played the same role at both of the previous Maker Faires, in San Mateo, Calif., in May 2006 and May 2007. And though he's based in the San Francisco Bay Area, the show's organizers have hired him to come to the Texas capital with them because he offers an irreplaceable combination of technical skill, long-term relationships with many of the people who are exhibiting, and an understanding of how to interface with government agencies like the sheriff and the fire department.

But as much as you might think that the safety officer's job would be filled with tales of gory incidents and exciting adventures, Pred says the reverse is actually the reality.

"My job is basically to make things not happen," Pred, who runs the Bay Area company, Mutual Aid Response Services (MARS), says. "A lot of the work is involved with pre-planning, being proactive, reviewing safety plans, and making sure that the artists and the (exhibitors) just have common sense....But the makers are, by and large, responsible for the safety of their projects, and to be fair, the makers are generally experts at what they're doing already, so it's not a big stretch."

One reason he knows this is that he has worked with or known many of the artists for years, either through previous Maker Faires, or through Burning Man--for which he works part-time by running emergency services--and other events. And that experience with many of the people involved in putting on Maker Faire here breeds the kind of familiarity necessary to break down the communications barriers that might otherwise arise when trying to instruct artists on safety issues.

"It's about relationships...(being able to) walk up to someone and address them by their first name," said Pred, who, incidentally, has been a friend of mine for some time.

Besides his knowledge of the people and of the art projects here, Pred explains that having someone whose job is specifically to seek out safety concerns is crucial to the success of an event like Maker Faire.

"I'm that safety net for both the makers and the organizers," he says. They're "focused on production and their projects, and they can get tunnel vision, and so having somebody (like me), this is a standard position in a lot of organizations, having someone focused on safety, so preventative measures can be taken before something happens."

Part of the job of the safety officer is to work alongside agencies like the fire department in setting up expectations of safety on the part of the artists. Once that position is established and respected, and the community has those expectations, they can become self-enforcing, and the job of Pred, or someone else like him, becomes supportive.

Still, there are real practical considerations.

"We review all the general descriptions of the makers (and their projects), and we highlight those that involve known hazards," Pred explains. "It could be something as simple as a glue gun or soldering iron. Maybe there's a small but known threat to someone who doesn't know how to safely handle one....It starts a dialog, really. And that dialog is just intended to show that we understand their project, and they understand our expectations. The goal is to enable them to do their projects to share their delight and passion for what they do."

One of the things that Pred feels he offers organizers of events like Maker Faire, and the participating artists, is a different approach than what many are used to. That's important when you're talking about artists who are used to working within their own constraints and guidelines and for whom any rigid law-enforcement rules would be anathema to doing their art.

"I think a traditional approach to safety has been very much a 'no, you can't do that' sort of approach. It's very conservative and not in any way permissive. But with a community like this, it's more like, 'yes, you can do that, and let's figure out how to do that safely.'" said Pred. "The primary difference is that authorities generally are more concerned about a code of regulations...that doesn't account for community or the values that a community is looking to share."

As a result, one of Pred's core contributions to everyone involved in putting on Maker Faire is what he terms as "translation."

"I'm the liaison to all the agencies we might deal with, to free the production staff to deal with the production, and I can speak to the agencies' mindset," Pred says. "And surprisingly, that's a very difficult translation for the different parties to make with each other. Agencies tend not to understand the communities, and the communities don't always understand the authorities, because it's different languages."

AUSTIN, Texas--With all the high-tech in evidence at Maker Faire here, it's hard to believe that one of the most amazing things I've seen was purely analog: drawings in dirt on the side of a car's window.

This is Scott Wade's Dirty Art Car.

Scott Wade makes beautiful art by drawing in dirt on the windows of his car, the 'Dirty Art Car.'

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET Networks)

Most people, when they see cars with dirty windows, just use their finger to write "wash me" on the glass.

But Wade is taking that basic idea and turning it high concept. He takes a drawing tool and etches wonderful, detailed drawings into dirt on the windows of his simple Toyota. It's really quite amazing to see.

Most people just write 'wash me' on the dirty windows of cars. Scott Wade turns such windows into a canvas for beautiful art.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET Networks)

That's especially true when I'm surrounded by engineers and people doing things with circuitry, fire, LEDs and model rockets. And then there's this guy quietly making beauty on his car.

I just love it.

AUSTIN, Texas--I'm high in the air, aboard a carnival ride cum Burning Man art piece cum bicycle-tech-powered people mover known as the Star Wheel.

It's hard to describe this: It's a giant wheel, maybe 20 feet high that has three seats built into the middle of it--independent of the outer frame--that are geared to spin around when their occupants pedal like crazy. As they pedal, the wheel moves slowly forward while those inside whoop and scream their way through rapid 360 degree rotations.

Paul daPlumber and his Star Wheel crew work on their bicycle-tech-powered carnival ride at the Travis County fairgrounds in Austin, Texas, in preparation for the Maker Faire.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET Networks)

It's quite the experience. I had first seen this at Burning Man 2004, and then again the following year. I had always wanted to ride it because of its particularly silly blend of carnival attraction and obvious genius engineering. But I'd never gotten the chance.

So when I arrived Thursday at the Travis County fairgrounds--where Maker Faire Austin is taking place this weekend--to report on the preparations for the event, I was very pleased to see the Star Wheel being assembled.

At first, I just stood by and shot photographs as the project's crew put the finishing touches on it. They were working slowly and methodically, their progress slowed only by occasional lewd banter.

Finally, they were ready to try it out.

"I think that's it," the project's leader, Paul daPlumber, shouted out. "We're ready. Let's roll it over."

Rolling the Star Wheel anywhere is not the easiest of tasks. It requires several people to push it and turn it, and it's slow going. But the crew wanted to test it out in advance of letting hundreds of people ride it this weekend.

So, the team jumped on and started pushing and rolling it across the grounds. Six of them turned it 90 degrees so it was pointed in the right direction--aimed at the inside of the livestock building they were working just outside of--and they're talking about getting the first riders on it.

I really wanted to be in the first group, so I volunteered. But sadly, they already had three folks lined up. Swallowing my disappointment, I followed them into the building, snapping photos, taking notes and watching.

As the Star Wheel moved forward, they realized it was on a path to collide with something, so they stopped and redirected it a few feet. After that, the three guys riding it started whooping and screaming, especially as they neared full upside-down turns.

One of the people watching this was Maker Faire safety officer Joseph Pred--stay tuned for a story on his role here later. I asked him what he thought about the test.

"They're testing it because they've never done it on a grade," Pred said. The Black Rock desert in Nevada, where Burning Man is held is flat, so "they're testing the tolerances. My job is to observe and help them figure it out, and give them a nudge. And they're doing a good job."

Just about then, they did indeed begin to take the Star Wheel down the slight incline. It was slight, so it wasn't too much extra work, but it was the first time they'd ever done it, and the tension rose.

Just about then, the crew stopped the Star Wheel and decided to get some new riders. I eagerly volunteered, and next thing you know, I'm sitting in one of the seats, belted in like crazy and holding onto the "Oh f--- bars" that are designed to keep riders from falling out of their seats.

The wheel begins to move and I begin to pedal and it's crazy fun. But also crazy scary. My knuckles are white as I grab hold of those bars with all my life, knowing that at any moment, the whole thing could fall apart and I could fall to my death.

The Star Wheel emerges from a livestock building at the Travis County fairgrounds with three riders having the time of their life.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET News.com)

But it doesn't fall, and we roll forward slowly, the three of us riders spinning around on a vertical axis in glee, baking in the Texas sun and loving every moment of it.

I decide that if I die, well, at least I was having fun when it happened.

The thing is, though, these guys know what they're doing. The Star Wheel is very well engineered, with many redundant failure points, so as I ride, I become more and more confident that the bolts won't shear off and I won't get crushed.

That confidence allows me to enjoy it more.

Finally, I get off and pull daPlumber aside for a quick chat about the project.

He tells me that he and his crew of six drove the wheel from San Francisco on a trailer behind a pickup. It then took a day-and-a-half to put together, the most time-consuming part of it being the painting it needed to look shiny and colorful again after much of it had been stored in the Nevada desert for the last couple of years.

"It's just a lot of labor," said daPlumber. "There are 300 nuts and bolts, so it's a lot of nutting and bolting."

He added that while this is the first time he's brought the Star Wheel anywhere other than Burning Man, he has fantasies of taking it to parades and possibly even to Mardi Gras in New Orleans in February.

For daPlumber, the best thing about the Star Wheel is watching people have fun riding it and directing it.

"It's just great, it's very spiritual and visceral and real," he said.

Finally, I say goodbye and begin to walk off. And just as I'm doing so, I hear daPlumber say one last thing.

"Thanks for flying," he said. "We know you have a choice in bicycle carnival rides, and we'd like to thank you."

If you're the kind of person for whom every year is centered around Burning Man, then there's a certain problem you have with the calendar: you can't go to other Labor Day weekend events.

Not that I would know anything about this, of course, because I only go to Burning Man some years, and it's only coincidence that it's happened 10 years in a row.

But anyway, I noticed today that there's going to be a great Lego fan festival in Washington, D.C., next year, called BrickFair. "Fantastic," I thought, as I love attending Lego events.

And, then, sadly, I noticed that it was scheduled for Labor Day weekend. Sigh.

It turns out that there are always so many great, geek-friendly events planned all over the country during that weekend, and if you're a burner, you can't go to any of them. The same is true if something is scheduled immediately before or after Burning Man.

I think to myself any time I come across one of these things, "What were these people thinking? Don't they know that means that burners can't go?"

Well, I suppose the reality is that there is a whole world outside of Burning Man, and that there are even a few geeks who don't go, or at least who don't go every year, but who still want to do something fun that weekend.

Who knew?

Still, as someone who regularly finds myself in the sad position of having to skip one great event after another in order to go to Nevada's Black Rock desert, I'd really like to urge the folks organizing these gatherings to consider the calendar.

I mean, already from what I gather, we've managed to convince the organizers of at least two events I can think of, the Austin Game Developers Conference and the Second Life Community Convention, to move to different places on the calendar.

That wasn't that hard, right? Who's next?

With 'Burning Life,' Second Life pays homage to Burning Man.

(Credit: Kathleen Craig)

If you're like me and Second Life and Burning Man are centerpieces of your existence, then Burning Life is just your thing.

This year, for the fifth-straight year, Second Life publisher Linden Lab is devoting some of the virtual world's land for an homage to Burning Man, the annual countercultural arts festival.

The idea is to create a temporary zone in which residents can create fantastical works of art that will last for a short period of time and then disappear forever. There's a big sculpture of a man, and a big temple, and at the end, both will "burn." Sound familiar?

Anyway, registration for one of the 62 available Burning Life plots is now open and submissions must be received by Sept. 7. The event begins Sept. 24 and ends Oct. 5.

Peter Foucault's drawing robot.

(Credit: Scott Beale / Laughing Squid)

There was an amazing party last Friday at the NASA Ames Research Center in Mountain View, Calif., celebrating the anniversary of the first human spaceflight, which was made by Russian astronaut Yuri Gagarin. While CNET News.com has already penned a great article on the event, I thought I'd add my two cents on some of the cool gadgets I spotted at the party.

Gaspo's ChakraTron

(Credit: Donald Bell / CNET Networks)

Peter Foucault's drawing robots drew a steady crowd the entire night. These two little robots had Sharpie pens mounted on them and were contained within what looked like a little robot boxing ring. Only instead of a rock-'em, sock-'em robot war, the two robots were busy creating a randomly generated art piece generated by the markers that they dragged across the paper mat beneath them. What made the piece truly random was the fact that the robots would shut down every few minutes until someone in the audience clapped loud enough to wake them up. This sleeping routine would randomize their direction and insure that each piece of art they generated was unique from the last. It also made for a lot of fun watching people clap at little robots.

The second cool gadget I wanted to take home with me was a large Buddha encrusted with chandelier glass and lit from the inside by 360 rotating LEDs controlled by 126 microprocessors. Originally created for the Burning Man festival by an artist named Gaspo, the ChakraTron not only looks very cool, but it also generates magic eight-ball answers on a small monochrome LED screen when a coin is placed in its built-in donation plate.

There's loads of Yuri's Night photos up on Flickr, including my own cardboard jet pack and a great set produced by Laughing Squid.