Assessing the Damage:

Friday, July 26, 2002

Sleep in. Right... Although the ear plugs held tight against the noise of cars on the nearby street, late-arriving campers bumbling about in the Orchard as they set up their tents, and (I'm pretty sure), some impromptu fireworks displays, I was fully awakened just before dawn by some small animal attempting to scratch it's way into the tent. It took me only about 2/10 of a second to realize that I had food in there with me, and that I may have to take some defensive action. I picked up the flashlight to cosh the creature over the head if it gained entry, but after trying a few tentative scratches on the other wall, it gave up and wandered off to better pickin's. I never did figure out what it was, a racoon (grrr, I hate 'em), a cat or something else.

Now completely awake, and a little excited by the event, I was unable to do much more than lay in bed and wish for sleep, and finally gave up about a quarter to five. Dressed, ate some granola, made a cup of tea and formulated the day's plan.

Met up with Jennifer on my way to put the car back on the charger, and inquired about auto parts stores. Got some directions and got to work preparing for the day's mechanical challenges. Moved the car over to "EV Alley", near the main entrance, and plugged the car's charger into the gird-intertied photovoltaic power system, running the utility meter up a bit so that there would be something for the meter reader to count all of the PV watts against.

In the Pavilion building, I met up with Justin and Peter from Grease Works in Corvallis. They were putting in some time as Fair volunteers as trade for their booth space, so I put them to work helping me move a heavy folding table out to the EV and Pusher, explaining on the way the events of the previous day.

Darren arrived after his breakfast with the HP Crew, and delivered his pop-up canopy and several folding camp chairs.

By now, it was getting on 8:30, and I decided it was time enough to find out what kind of machine shop facilities John Day had. I rode my bike down to Main St., then west, looking for the NAPA auto parts store. Once there, I inquired about machine shop services, particularly cylinder head milling. Mark, the machinist, said no problem, bring in the head and he'd check it out and see if it was repairable. The shop had the proper milling machine to service the diesel head, one that uses stones instead of machine steel cutters. Before leaving, I purchased a container of Orange pumice hand cleaner.

One the way back to the fairgrounds, I stopped at King's variety store. Last night I had realized that although I could probably stay fairly clean while doing the work on the engine because the motor was new and the engine compartment had been thoroughly steam cleaned and scrubbed, even the smallest grease spots would ruin the clean white T-shirts that I had packed for the trip. All of these shirts were "special" with logos or other decorations that would make them impossible to replace once dirtied by crankcase oil. At Kings, I bought a pack of three white T-shirts with no decorations. I would be able to stay cool in the white fabric, and not have to worry about oily spots.

Back at the car, I began removing the intake and exhaust manifolds, the timing belt cover and timing belt, and all of the injector lines.

Not too much after I started, Jacques arrived in the Grass Car, a 1982 VW Jetta Diesel, which he had completely covered in Astroturf. Of course, the Grass Car was running on Biodiesel, and Jacques was selling "Greasy Guerrilla" T-shirts with the no-derrick logo on them. Jacques was a very important part of the 2001 SolWest trip, as he served as my chase vehicle on the return trip and provided my ride home after the car broke down for the final time in Mitchell.

The morning progressed, and I continued to tear down the stricken engine. I fully expected to find that the head would have large cracks in the combustion cylinders, but once I got it off and set it upside down on the table, I was unable to see any damage at all. Even the small cracks between the intake and exhaust valves which all VW diesels have were unchanged from when I rebuilt the head only 1,500 miles previous. I could see where combustion pressure had been forcing it's way past the head gasket and into the coolant galleries, but otherwise, it looked repairable.

It was a little before noon, and I wanted to get the head down to the machine shop so Mark could check it out. I considered that I would strap it to the back of my bicycle and ride it down, but was offered a ride instead.

At NAPA, Mark looked at the head, and measured about .008" of warp, not a lot, but enough to require milling. He told me he'd get right on it after lunch, and that I could pick it up anytime after 4PM. Before leaving the store, I checked on the availability of a replacement head gasket and head bolts. Neither were available locally, so another option would be needed.

Just as I was returning to the car at the fairgrounds, Justin came up telling me "Here, you'll need these", and handed me a set of camshaft and injection pump timing tools. Although it would be possible to do this job without these specialized tools, having them would make the job much easier and more accurate. When Justin learned that I had not been able to get a head gasket at the parts store, be made a call back home, and arranged to have Robert and Mark, who were just about to leave Corvallis for John Day, pick up the gasket and bolts before they left the valley.

With the cylinder head being serviced, parts on their way from afar, and a strong desire to eat lunch, I went over to the Kawanis booth and ordered a veggie-cheeseburger. Although the burger was tasty, I still can't figure out why they don't offer tomato slices or sprouts to dress up the sandwich. Geez, even lettuce would help a little.

Back at the car with my meal, the helpful fellows at Energy Outfitters came over to let me know that while I was away, the front tire on my bicycle had suffered a spontaneous blowout. Oh great, another project.

With several hours to consume waiting for the cylinder head to be finished, I began cleaning up the parts I had removed from the engine, scraping the remnants of head gasket off of the block, and doing whatever preparations I could for the reassembly.

The fair had opened to the public at 11AM, and as usual, the Pusher got it's share of attention from the attendees. As I was mostly consumed with mechanical chores, I was a bit more reserved than usual, and I kind of think that there were fewer people coming by, at least fewer that I noticed. I had the feeling that the whole EV/Pusher thing seemed a little less convincing as a viable means of transport, since I was obviously having to work on it in the middle of showing it. Several folks that I had met last year came by to say "Hi" and see the changes to the trailer that had occurred since our last meeting.

Around 4PM, I got another ride back to the machine shop to pick up the head. Total cost was $32 (including a hot tank cleaning). Justin and Peter were there, and had found a replacement intake manifold gasket, as I had damaged a corner of the one on the car while removing it. On the way back to SolWest, I stopped again at Kings, and bought an inner tube for my bike tire. I'd be lost without my wheels, walking is too time consuming, and I was making quite a few trips into town to pick up supplies.

Several additional vehicles had joined EV Alley, including a VW Caddy (pickup), a Mercedes and a newer Ford F-250 turbo diesel, both running on straight vegetable oil. Gray, the owner of the truck had struck up a conversation with Jacques, and the two of them talked me into attending dinner with them at "The Snaffle Bit", supposedly the most posh restaurant in the area. It would be several more hours before Robert and Mark arrived with the head gasket, and as the day was wearing down, I began loading loose parts into the trunk of the Pusher, putting away tools and cleaning up for the last time.

Jacques and Gray were in the Grass Car with the engine running, while I washed the oil off of my hands when a fellow came up and asked about the Pusher. I gave him the quick "This is an EV, and that trailer provides ground traction to push it forward, and I'm just about to leave for dinner, come back and visit again tomorrow, excuse me" rap, and left to join the hungry diners in the car. After we got underway, I found out that the guy was Joshua Tickell, the author of From the Fryer to the Fuel Tank, which is considered to be the bible of Biodiesel. Tickell is himself referred to as the "Father of Biodiesel". Great, I just brushed off a patron saint of renewable energy.

The Grass Car attracted lots of attention out on the street, including a wave from the Grant County Sheriff. At the restaurant, we found that they were packed, with names on the reservation list. Gray suggested that we make a reservation for Saturday so we would be assured of getting in for a meal. We drove back into John Day, and instead went into the Outpost Cafe, which was surprisingly uncrowded. Gray was concerned that he would have problems finding "California Cuisine", but he was more than satisfied to order a garden and chicken wrap sandwich. A glass of Black Butte Porter with my fish & chips. As we were finishing up, a group of familiar SolWest faces crowded into the restaurant and filled a couple of tables. My impression is that the local economy gets a pretty big boost from the SolWest fair, lots of tourist dollars out on the street all at once. It's impossible to find an available motel room this weekend.

As was getting to be the norm for this event, showered at Darren's room, then loitered at the HP suite for a little while before returning to the fairgrounds. While passing the Pavilion building, I spotted Justin and friends inside, and so I rode in to visit with them for a bit. They were having a conversation with Josh Tickell, and he was asking them pretty common questions like: " How many gallons are you reacting a week?" and "Where do you get your feedstock?" After each answer, he'd reply with a "Right on!" or "That's Awesome!". I kind of wondered why someone who had been doing Biodiesel for so many years would be so excited to hear about the mundane workings of a small co-op's system. It occurred to me that Josh was acting as the spokesman, pumping these guys up with his enthusiasm. There was nothing disingenuous about his attitude, he really seemed to enjoy putting some inertia into the Grease Works crew by being interested in what they were doing.

Back at the Orchard, "Margaritaville", the camp lounge (although we call it "The Bar", it's BYOB), was in full swing with live music broadcast over Jon's Radio Free SolWest at micropower on 96.1MHz. I stayed for a few minutes and watched the festivities, then headed over to my tent. Since I should be accustomed to the camp, and the Pusher progress had been adequate so as to not concern my slumber, I looked forward to catching up on some ZZZ's. The earplugs went in and the lights went out.

What's That Smell???:

Saturday, July 27, 2002

Sleep in. Right... What day is this? What page am I on?? Once again, before the first light of the new morning, I was awakened. This time not by a sound. This time by a smell. A familiar smell. A strong familiar smell. A strong unpleasant familiar smell. A nearby strong unpleasant familiar smell. A nearby strong unpleasant familiar smell of SKUNK!!!! This time I laid in bed not considering whacking the creature with the flashlight in case it wanted into the tent, but fully considering it could have anything it wanted after I made a new exit in the back of the tent and had run some good distance away.

No tent flap scratching ensued, so I eventually drifted back to sleep, only to wake up a short time later as twilight began outdoors, to still have the same odor in the air. It wasn't like the skunk had sprayed and the smell was lingering in the air, but more like nearby stinky skunk butt prowling around the campground.

Drifted back off to sleep, and eventually got up about a quarter to six. Breakfast, tea, and back to work on the Pusher out in the exhibition area. Sometime during the night, someone had slipped a VW head gasket under the corner of my tent. Hmmm, the head gasket fairy had visited (thanks, Bruce, even though it was a gasoline engine part, the thought was appreciated).

Expecting to get finished by afternoon, I put the cam followers back into the cylinder head, and began to assemble the cam shaft and retaining caps. Bob, who was camping next to me decided to come by and check the progress, and asked if I had checked the cam line. "Well, no, should I?" Of course, if the head was warped, then the five camshaft bearings are no longer in a straight line, and need to be line bored to correct the "bow" that the cam will experience when it is torqued down. This necessitated a trip to the machine shop, where I learned that they didn't have a line boring machine, so there was little they could do about this problem.

Bob had me pick up some long strips of 400 grit wet-or-dry sandpaper and some brake cleaning fluid. We were going to hand-turn the camshaft bearing journals to provide additional clearance to allow for the bow in the bearing line. I thought this was going to be impossible with hand tools, but he assured me that he had done this type of repair many times, and while line boring was preferable, this would at least insure that the bearing journals would not wear excessively.

What we ended up doing was resting the rear of the cam in the head backwards so that it could be turned in free air with a ratchet, and then Bob used the sandpaper as a strop to polish the number 1, 3, & 5 cam journals to remove material. Our first session before noon was pretty productive, but we ran out of sandpaper, so Bob left to attend a lecture, while I rode the bike back down to NAPA to get more abrasive.

At some point, Tomas and Ian of Eugene Biosource showed up on site and loaded a bunch of flyers on the table.

I had expected to attend Josh Tickell's lecture on Biodiesel at 12:30PM, but I didn't want to miss Bob in case he came back to finish the job, and so I stuck around and gave "the tour" to onlookers. Bob returned about 1:30, and we did some additional clearancing on the journals, using Plastigauge to check our progress. Finally, the clearances seemed right, and we torqued the cam shaft into place and checked the rotation for binding. It felt loose and easy to turn, so I resumed installing the valve gear and got ready to put the head on the engine.

The rest of the afternoon held no new disastrous surprises. At one point, Gray was going to the auto parts store to look at electric fuel pumps for his SVO conversion on the truck, so I tagged along, purchasing four quarts of oil and a plastic drain pan so that I could empty the most likely fried oil in the crankcase sump and put in some new.

Just as we were leaving David arrived with his Biodiesel refinery trailer, which was for sale. This trailer is very well equipped, and has everything needed to produce batches of Biodiesel in 12 gallon quantities. All aspects of safety have been considered including fire suppression, first aid, personal safety (goggles, gloves, rubber aprons), Material Safety Data Sheets for all chemicals, and an eye wash station, which you can see on the left-hand cabinet door which is open. Dave was present at last year's event, and held a lecture on Biodiesel production procedures.

The cylinder head went back into place on the engine block, and I secured it using the new head bolts that had been delivered from Corvallis yesterday. I did have some head scratching trying to decipher the torque wrench specs that were supplied with the head gasket, as they were universal, covering a wide range of head gasket and engine types. After conferring with three other people to make sure that I was reading the abbreviated instructions correctly, I set to work with the torque wrench, which I had put into the car with the tools before I left home. As I was loading the wrench into the car, I asked myself why I was taking it along, as it was very unlikely to be needed with the trailer running so well after the recent rebuild. Yet another example of cosmic intervention, I almost left it at home...

It was now late afternoon, and I'd gotten the cylinder head installed, and began attaching wires, hoses and other fixtures that will be needed to complete the job. I'd hoped to have the engine running by this evening, but there is still a bit to do before I can try to start it.

Justin and Peter of Grease Works had been planning a meeting for this evening for several months. Anyone with an interest in Biodiesel was invited, particularly those who wish to start or belong to a biofuels co-op model. About 40 people or so show up in the open-air classroom to participate. I misunderstood and instead first went to the Sale Barn, where Windy Dankoff was just beginning a presentation of solar water pumping. Just before taking a seat, it became apparent that I was either in the wrong place, or here at the wrong time. Grabbed my bike and shifted over to the large canopy on the grass and settled down next to Jacques with the digital camera ready to take a few images.

They were just beginning to assemble a list of subjects to cover during the meeting. Jacques got a nice plug at the top of the board with his grass-car.com address. There were many questions about glycerin disposal, tier one certification, fee fatty acids, and a variety of other subjects which showed that the participants were mostly experienced with the production mechanics of Biodiesel. Josh Tickell sat in, interjecting a few facts when appropriate. Tomas and Ian of Eugene Biosource were also in attendance, you can just see the tops of their heads at the bottom of the image.

About 20 minutes into the meeting, after the agenda had been set and discussion began, the compact flash card in the camera became full, so I bowed out to go to the tent and get the spare card. On the way back, I got the feeling that I might be better off using this time to begin installing the intake and exhaust manifolds on the engine. Using my time wisely is important, because Jacques and Gray and I are going out to dinner at The Snaffle Bit, tonight, using the reservations we made last night.

Dinner was pretty much a bust, except for the free beer that the waitress gave us because our order got messed up.

Back at the motel, the HP crew was in full swing, with Darren supplying two 5 gallon soda containers of home made dark ale. The party had spilled out onto the balcony, and exhibitors, lecturers, attendees and magazine folk alike talked, ate and took in the warm summer night. Fortunately, most of the motel was occupied by Solwest people, so there weren't any complaints about the bit of noise the socializing caused.

Another ½ glass of beer for me, and it was time for bed. It had been a long day, and tomorrow would be another. In the parking lot of the Motel, I found that my bike had another flat tire, this time, the rear. Walked it back to the fairgrounds. Passing through the campground, a fair bit of partying was taking place at Margaritaville, and there was another group of people getting some live music going on one side of the camp.

Earplugs in and lights out for me.

Sunday Go-to-Meetin'

Sunday, July 28, 2002

This morning, nothing tried to get into my tent, no frightening smells assaulted my nose. This could actually turn out to be a good day...

As usual, some breakfast, tea, dental hygiene and back to work on the Pusher, the final "push" to get it running again.

Over the course of the last three days, I'd begun to become the event celebrity. Folks would come by every few hours to see what progress had been accomplished on the engine, exchange a few pleasantries, and move along to the next lecture or seminar. As the engine began to have a finished appearance, excitement began to grow, and several people wanted to know when the "big event" would take place, the starting of the engine. I told each of them that I didn't really need or want a big crowd around when I tried starting it, mostly because if it didn't work, they weren't going to enjoy my reaction.

The wife of one of the exhibitors whom I am familiar with asked if I needed anything from the store, and so I was able to get a replacement tube for the tire on my bicycle. Now I have two brand-new tubes, let's hope that's enough for the rest of the weekend!

The last of the parts were in place, I had reconnected all of the removed wiring and hoses, and put the battery on solar charge using a small panel that Darren had bought at the silent auction. It was time to fire it up. Before this could be done, the injector lines needed to be bled, which is a pretty straight forward procedure. This time, however, the injection pump would not draw any fuel up out of the tank. This was most puzzling, and I brushed it off to the fuel lines draining back into the tank from being disconnected for the last three days. The owner of one of the cars running on straight vegetable oil had purchased a small, battery-operated pump, and brought it over so we could prime the injection pump with Biodiesel pumped from a styrofoam drinking cup. Once the pump had a prime, it pulled fuel from the tank, the injectors bled and it was time to try actually starting the engine.

Oh, except one small oversight. I didn't have any antifreeze for the cooling system. Rode my now newly retubed bike back to the NAPA store, hoping to find them open. They were, and I bought a gallon of antifreeze, stopping by the grocery store on the way back for two gallons of distilled water. Filled the coolant reservoir with a 50/50 mix of antifreeze and the distilled H²0.

Now the moment of truth. There was no marching band, no jugglers, no midgets doing summersaults, no elephants balancing on giant balls, no fanfare. The engine just started and ran like it had just been shut off a few minutes beforehand. Oh, no champagne, either...

By this time, it was 3 PM or so. After cleaning up my tools, I began taking the rest of my outdoor workshop apart. There was a considerable amount of stuff to find places for, debris and clutter to dispose of, nasty used motor oil to pour back into the containers the new oil came out of, and someone had left two containers of reacted Biodiesel from Josh Tickell's demonstration on my table. What am I going to do with that?

The rest of the Solwest event was beginning to pack up, Darren came by for his pop-up tent, and Joe Schwartz stopped by to take some digital photos for an upcoming Home Power magazine article.

Now it was time to take a test drive to see if everything still worked as it should. I approached Richard Perez to see if he wanted to accompany me, but he was busy knocking down the Home Power booth and organizing the truck for the trip back to Agate Flat. I pretty much just walked up the the nearest person I could find and asked if she wanted to go for a drive. "Sure, why not" was the reply, so we set off to the south, me and a prefect stranger who was intrigued enough by the offer to travel a short distance with someone she never met before.

The operation of the Pusher was normal by all accounts, and when I checked the engine in Canyon City a few miles up the road, everything looked fine.

Arriving back at SolWest, I ran into Michael Welch of HP, and asked if he wanted to accompany me on a longer, high speed run in the car. He did, and we set off to the west, accelerating to 60 MPH once outside the John Day city limits. Again, the Pusher ran fine and no cooling system problems were noted. We turned around at the entrance to the landfill, and jetted back into town.

Once back, I ran into Victor, who was just getting ready to leave. The car he was traveling in had had some aerodynamic enhancements added in the form of a wedge-shaped nose piece that cut wind resistance considerably. He claimed that fuel mileage was much higher with this addition. Yet another example of home-brew innovation, although the resemblance to Darth Vader is kind of spooky.

Victor's companion had entered in the Electrathon race. That's the race car on the trailer.

Things at the fairgrounds were winding down pretty fast. One exhibit that I had been hearing a lot about was the solar telescope, which allowed one to look directly at the sun through a very sophisticated and expensive filter device. I managed to get over to the 'scope before it was taken down and was treated to an astounding view of the sun, with huge arcs of plasma shooting a great distance from the body of the star. Sunspots were clearly visible, and if viewed for a length of time, both the spots and the flares could be seen to be in motion. The filter that made this direct observation of the sun possible was powered (naturally) by photovoltaic panels, producing electricity from the very same sunlight that I was observing.

Back at the tent, I spent some time stowing excess gear, putting away tools and generally packing up as much stuff that wouldn't be needed into the car as I could. This evening, I've been invited to join the HP crew for a small dinner party at their motel room, with tortillas and tacos cooked up by Daniel.

I was planning on plugging the car in to charge at the outlets in the center of the fairgrounds, so I drove the EV over to the motel, paring at the base of the stairs going up to the room. Inside, all of the familiar faces were in attendance, some helping to prepare the meal be chopping onions, grating cheese or handing out brews. A fine meal was soon served up buffet-style, and once again the balcony outside the room was transformed into a party deck.

After a suitable number of tall tales were told, and old times remembered, folks began to depart, some for their motel rooms or tents, and others to seek out some night life. Windy Dankoff was my passenger on the way back to the Orchard campground, where he joined the celebrants around an orange highway cone with a flashlight under it in Margaritaville (their own version of a safe-n-sane campfire in this time of extreme fire danger), playing his flute with several other musicians.

Sooner than not, I stole away to make my bed and get some sleep after plugging the car in to charge at an outlet in the center of the fairgrounds.

Monday: Fire Watch

July 29, 2002

Up at a reasonable hour, still mostly before anyone else though. Struck the tent, packed up the car, readied the trailer. Stopped into the office to check with Jennifer about road conditions. Jacques had left fairly early on Sunday, concerned that the fires to the west might close Highway 20, and force him to drive down Highway 97 to catch Highway 58 over the Willamette Pass, a very indirect route, particularly when the destination is Corvallis. The last news Jennifer had heard was that although the fires weren't threatening the road, closure was imminent, as Black Butte Ranch was likely to be evacuated, and fire crews and residents leaving the area would need unobstructed access to the highway. A check on the laptop connected to the internet confirmed the bad news, the road was now closed to all but emergency vehicles and residents leaving the area.

This new development was not particularly welcome, especially because it would add many miles to my return home, and take me over unfamiliar roads. The rumor was that Highway 242, the McKenzie Pass, was closed to all trailer traffic, and my vehicle certainly qualified on that account.

Jon had offered to be my chase vehicle, and after meeting up this morning, we made plans as best as possible for the trip back. He began packing up the last of his test, radio gear, and other belongings, and I had an early lunch at the car, parked at the Pavilion building to charge up and be close to any late breaking news about the road situation changing, perhaps Highway 20 reopening. After eating, I made a last trip into town to finish up some chores and get ready for the trip.

The first stop was to purchase some fuel. The trip to John Day had been a thirsty one for the Pusher, I had consumed nearly ten gallons of Biodiesel, and had to top up the tank with foul-smelling petroleum diesel. The gas station attendant was fascinated to be pumping fuel into a trailer, and the customer at the other side of the service island was a SolWest attendee who was filling up his motor home for the trip into the Willamette Valley. He seemed fairly unconcerned to be forced to drive the extra distance south to detour around the fire, considering it just another scenic side trip. I explained a bit about the pusher to him, we said our farewells, and set off to the next stop, a beer, wine and cigarette store to buy two bags of ice.

At the NAPA auto parts store, I dropped off the four quarts of used motor oil that came out of the Pusher to be recycled, and then ran into the motor home driver again, shopping for some oil or other product. I thanked the parts counter guys for their patience and assistance this weekend, and then showed the RV'er my ghetto air conditioning in the EV. The two bags of ice that I had bought went into the air duct under the hood, known as the "rain tray". All of the air entering the car's interior through the vents has to travel through this duct, and in order to get inside the car, the air has to now travel over and through the ice!

The rain tray is lined with "bubble plastic", some leftovers from a package that I unwrapped after receiving a shipment. The bubble plastic insulates the ice from the car body and forms kind of a dam to keep melt water from dripping into the passenger compartment vent inlet. Not shown here are two additional rigid plastic covers like the one you seen in the center of the rain tray. These help keep the ice isolated from the hood, and help direct the air around a greater area of the ice. There was room for one, and possibly two more bags of ice in the tray. I probably should have just stuffed it full, but since this was the first time I'd tried this, I opted for the two bags I already had as the initial experiment. The rain tray has a pair of drain vents at the bottom, and is designed to carry away water entering through the vent grille in the rear of the hood, so the melt water from the ice will pose no problem.

Back at the fairgrounds, I hooked up with Jon, and we prepared to leave. Our plan was to go as far as Redmond, then check the road closures and make a decision then as to what we would do.

Started the EV and Pusher, and pulled out of the Grant County Fairgrounds. sometime around noon, headed into an uncertain route west.

By all indications, the Pusher was performing just fine. I kept an eagle eye on the temp gauge and settled into driving mode. The ice in the rain tray did make the air coming through the vents cool, but it wasn't like having real air conditioning, I couldn't drive with all of the windows rolled up. Just having cold air blowing on me from the dash vents was welcome. At Dayville, I pulled over to have a look at the engine and confirm that everything was as it should be. Back on the road, we got stuck behind an old, slow motor home, without any good opportunities to pass.

At the junction of highway 19, I pulled out at a turnout to allow two logging trucks to pass, and to check the engine again. This junction is at the bottom of the east side of the Mitchell grade, my tough first test on the newly repaired engine, and I didn't want any tailgating trucks. While we were stopped, I asked Jon to follow a bit farther back, as I could actually feel the drag induced by his vehicle behind mine.

The Mitchell grade didn't prove to be much of a problem. The temperature gauge did rise, actually a bit higher than I was comfortable with, but it quickly fell when the load was eased at the summit. We descended Table Mountain, pulling into the tiny town of Mitchell to do another engine check and to use the restrooms located across from the city park. Hugh was in the cage with Henry (see my 2001 SolWest adventure for details), along with a couple of tourist's kids, feeding the now adult bear some carrots. Said "Hi" to Hugh, and went back to the car, where I managed to step in some gooey tar that had melted in the hot sun. Great way to keep my upholstery clean. Back to the road after a snack of dried fruit.

Ochoco Pass made the engine temp rise again, but no problems associated with over temperature. I've decided that I need to put the dual radiator fan setup on the trailer to help keep the coolant temperature where it's supposed to be.

Prineville, then Redmond, where we stopped for coffee and to formulate the next part of the trip. If it was going to be necessary to take highway 97, we would make that connection here. I stopped a pickup in the parking lot, and asked the driver if highway 20 had reopened. He said it hadn't. I asked about trailer traffic over highway 242, and was told that small trailers are allowed. Jon and I decided to go the 20 miles to Sisters and inquire there about traffic over the Cascades. If we needed to take 97, we wouldn't need to come back to Redmond, but could take 20 to Bend.

Things seemed normal enough in Sisters, so we pressed forward, taking the cut off just outside of town to go over the McKenzie Pass. A little ways up the road, a Forest Service vehicle was set up as a check point in the road, probably to keep too-large of vehicle from trying to use the highway ahead.

Highway 242, the McKenzie Pass, is some of the most picturesque landscape in the state. it's also one of the most treacherous roads in the state. Typically, it's closed from November until May or June due to snow. The eastern side of this highway was fairly tame, with many tight turns, but not too steep of a roadway. I was able to keep ahead of traffic with no problems, using the Pusher and electric drives to provide the power needed to reach the top.

As you climb this road, you enter into wilderness, with frequent openings of lava fields towards the top. At the summit, the trees and rocks give way to an immense expanse of lava fields. A visitor's center has been built at the top, with a large rock observatory crowned by a bronze disc engraved with pointers to landmarks both near and far. Here you see a sample of the vista. Most of the views are of more interesting things like majestic mountain peaks, but here I've focused on the reason for our detour. What you see on the horizon is smoke from the fire outside of Black Butte that closed the highway. This photo makes the lava field, trees and nearby hills look kind of tiny, but a person out in this landscape would be completely lost in the photo by the scale of the surroundings.

Anyhow, after getting a bit of exercise climbing the several flights of stairs to the observatory and snapping some photos, we're about ready to get back to the road. The exercise was interesting because of the elevation, we're over a mile up! A new record for the EV and Pusher. The weather at the top was obviously clear and sunny, but because of the altitude and the lack of humidity, quite comfortable.

Since the usual route from the valley to the high country was closed, there were a lot of visitors to the summit this day. It would be interesting to return sometime when the "fast" route is open and see just how much traffic this scenic route gets normally.

The EV had consumed a fair number of ampere-hours from the battery pack while climbing this mountain, but home is all downhill from here. We got underway and began the descent along the narrow, winding road that snakes off of the ancient volcanoes and into the lush McKenzie River valley. This side to the Cascades would be a real challenge to the drivetrain on any vehicle, but I'd never want to attempt climbing the road we were now coasting down. The EV's regenerative braking did a fine job of keeping the car and trailer's velocity under control, and it was seldom necessary to use the brakes to maintain a safe speed. Of course, the bonus was that I was also replacing all of those ampere-hours that the car consumed on the climb to the top. Many switchback, dogleg, and horseshoe turns in the road made it amply clear why trailers "aren't recommended" on this highway.

As we descended, the air became hotter, and the humidity rose dramatically. Our pleasantly warm high desert day was rapidly becoming a valley scorcher. After being in such low humidity for the last few days, it was a shock to remember that your body reacts to wet heat by pumping out a lot of moisture of it's own. Over in John Day, a tiny bit of perspiration goes a long way towards keeping you cool. Here on the valley side, you can sweat buckets and still not get any relief.

Eventually, highway 242 joins highway 126, just a bit south of Belknap Hot Springs. Jon has never visited there, so I made a short detour to stop for a walk around the grounds, and to get a bit of a rest from all of the steering wheel twisting we had both just done.

The next 60 miles was completely uneventful. Jon and I parted company in the parking lot of a market in Springfield just before we got on the freeway to our respective homes. Jon had another 45 minutes still to drive to get to Albany.

Arrived to find everything at home in order. Opened all of the windows to let out the day's pent-up heat and began unloading the car and trailer.

Next year, I'm going to surprise everybody. I'm going to actually drive to and from SolWest 2003 without any breakdowns. Third time's a charm...

Oh, it just goes on and on... Read why I didn't take the EV and Pusher to SolWest 2003: EV Pusher meets the Eco-Trekker