Dear Sundog: Am I a jerk for not owning an electric vehicle yet? I live in a city, commute to work, and like to get outside. I have a decent car that gets decent mileage, but feel like I would be doing better for myself and the planet with an EV. Should I buy one? ā€”Looking for Environmental Alternatives that are Friendly

Dear LEAF,

Letā€™s say youā€™re the average American who commutes 42 miles per day round-trip to a job that you find moderately soul-sucking. Maybe your labor serves a corporation that enriches its execs and shareholders while doing ill in the world. Maybe you work for an idealistic school or nonprofit, but are expected to work nights or weekends without additional pay. Or perhaps you simply sense that your one and only life on this gorgeous Earth is slipping past while you compose reports and gaze at Zoom.

In any case, you want to lead a more principled and less wasteful life than your vocation allowsā€”you donā€™t want to be a jerkā€”so you upgrade your Corolla for an electric vehicle. Where will you find that $35K or $75K? If you can pull the funds directly from your savings or trust fund, then God bless you. Otherwise, youā€™ll borrow the money and make a monthly payment. Youā€™ll have to keep doing your job in order to afford your green ride.

You will likely be paying interest to some bank. Will that bank use your hard-earned dollars to manifest a better society? More likely, their profits will go for millions in dividends to stock owners, or theyā€™ll be loaned out again to finance all kinds of hideous adventures, from oil pipelines across to deforesting the .

So by reducing your dependence on the gas stationā€”one tentacle of the fossil fuel industryā€”youā€™ve now become a partner to some other tentacle. Also, much of the electrical grid from which youā€™ll power that EV is still burning coal and gas to make electricity, so unless youā€™re charging from your own rooftop panels, you havenā€™t fully escaped even one tentacle.

So, no, LEAF, youā€™re not a jerk should you choose a different path. And yes, if youā€™re buying a carā€”especially to replace a gasoline carā€”it should probably be an EV. But there are so many variables.

You will no doubt have heard about the of using rare-earth elements like cobalt and lithium for electric batteries. Itā€™s true: mining is bad. But this alone is not a valid reason to pass on buying an EV. The damage required to extract these miracle elements is much smaller than the alternativeā€”drilling for oil and gas, and digging coal to produce electricity. If you canā€™t stomach the exploitation of nature and humans that is inherent to the industrial economy, let me gently suggest that you make a more radical lifestyle change than getting an EVā€”and try giving up your car altogether.

Sundog does not give advice he would not heed, so hereā€™s my full disclosure: even Iā€”literally a professor of environmental studiesā€”do not own an EV, not even a hybrid. My familyā€™s fleet consists of a 2005 Toyota Tundra that gets an alarming 15 to 22 miles per gallon, and a 2012 Subaru Outback that does only slightly better at 21 to 28.

As a matter of principle, I donā€™t think the only way to save the planet is by transferring billions of dollars from regular citizens to the corporations that build cars. As a matter of budget, I have never owned a new car. All my vehicles have cost less than $10K, except the Outback, which was $16K. Iā€™ve actually never even sat in a Tesla, but I imagine driving one to be like having an orgasm while watching a looped clip of Elon Musk declaring: ā€œIā€™ve done more for the environment for any other single human on earth.ā€

Let me state on the record that I love cars and trucks. Theyā€™ve provided much joy in my life, usually along a lovely lonesome stretch of two-lane blacktop or at the terminus of some rutted old ranch road. But those sort of experiences likely account for less than one percent of overall driving. In the past century, we have built American cities to accommodate people using cars for the most mundane of outings like commuting, shopping, and bar-hopping. The tradeoff is not just carbon emissions and pollution, but also sprawl, isolation and streets unsafe for walking and biking.

Turns out that in cities built before the era of the automobileā€”from New York to Barcelona to Kathmanduā€”you can get around without a car. When you remove traffic jams, parking tickets, the endless search for a place to park, the glum designation of a sober driver, and the claustrophobia of being locked in a metal box, city living is just more . . . fun.

When Sundog and Lady Dog set out to design our own lives, it was not to be in some Old World capitol, but rather in a midsized city in the Rockies. We didnā€™t aspire merely to burn fewer fossil fuels: we wanted to free ourselves from our car. We bought a house less than a mile from the place we work, less than a mile from the center of town. Our kid goes to preschool two blocks from here. Now we get around mostly by foot and bike, and can walk to trails and a creek. Many days go by where our dented guzzlers sit on the streetā€”we drive each vehicle about 5,000 miles per year, about a third of the of 13,500.

The downside is that the houses in this neighborhood are a century old, dilapidated, small, and expensive. Itā€™s a bit of a whack-a-mole game: our heating bills are low because we live in 1,000 square feet, but we canā€™t afford solar panels or a heat pump. We donā€™t spend much money on gasoline, but we canā€™t afford an EV.

Had we decided to live 21 miles from our jobs, we might have had a big new well-designed home and a slick new EV. But we love walking and biking; we want to teach our son that he can do the same, and that his parents are not his chauffeurs.

So why do we bother owning cars at all? For one, Montana is a lovely place to live, but it sure costs a lot to leave. Cheap airfares are not really a thing here. Neither is public transportation. So if you want to take a family vacation within a 1,000-mile radius, youā€™re likely driving. We bought the Tundra during the pandemic to tow a camp trailer (our ā€œofficeā€) and to haul lumber while we built a permanent office. Now we use the truck for long river trips, which entail carrying heavy loads for hundreds of miles through remote areas and down rutted dirt roads.

I donā€™t know of any EV that could do this. The Subaru is the town errand runner, and also takes us down bumpy roads to lakes and up icy mountains to ski. If it bites the dust and the cost of used four-wheel-drive EVs drops below twenty grand, Iā€™d be happy to upgrade.

None of this makes Sundog feel particularly righteous. My point is that choosing a car is not a stand-alone decision as you forge an ethical life.

Mark Sundeen teaches environmental writing at the University of Montana. Despite his fleet of internal combustion engines, he refuses to purchase a parking permit and therefore commutes on a 1974 Schwinn Continental, with a ski helmet in winter.

If you have an ethical question for Sundog, send it to sundogsalmanac@hotmail.com

The post Am I a Jerk for Not Owning an Electric Car? appeared first on ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶų Online.

Despite being the of vehicles in the U.S., crossovers like the Toyota RAV4 and Honda CRV get , especially in the off road and overland communities. Theyā€™re regarded as a poor compromise between a sedan and an SUV that tend to do nothing particularly well, and are often ridiculed for without actually possessing that capability.

±į±š°ł±šā€™s the thing, though: crossovers are popular for good reason. They meet the needs of most people incredibly well, are fuel efficient and comfortable, and with modern all-wheel-drive systems and traction control, Iā€™d argue theyā€™re able to get most of us pretty much anywhere we actually want to go.

My wife and I own a 2021 Toyota RAV4 Hybrid, which happens to be the in the U.S. and is one of the best-selling vehicles in the country year after year. It has been a phenomenal car for us, but we wanted to make it perform a bit better off-road, so we made some modifications.

How ā€œOff-Roadā€ Are You Really Getting?

Before I dive into what we did to our RAV4, letā€™s take a second to talk about what ā€œoff-roadā€ and ā€œoff-road capabilityā€ really mean. For some folks, off-road capability might mean their vehicle needs to come equipped with large tires, front and rear locking differentials, a winch, and the ability to safely navigate a .

If thatā€™s what you need out of a vehicle, then yeah, a crossover isnā€™t for you.

The thing about those types of trails is that you have to seek them outā€”there are not many of them, and most folks are not running trails in Moab very often. To most people, ā€œoff-roadā€ really just means driving off pavement, usually to get to a trailhead or campsiteā€”and for that, a crossover is more than enough, especially with a few simple modifications.

What Not to Do

Thereā€™s been a trend of people similarly to how one might modify a four-wheel-drive truck or SUV like a 4Runner: adding big, knobby tires, lift kits, rock sliders, heavy duty front bumpers, winches, and more.

Bolting all that stuff to your car might make it look cool, but it also affects the ride and your fuel economy. ±į±š°ł±šā€™s what I did to modify my crossover to make it more capable without ruining the way it drives.

Tires

The number one thing I recommend to anyone looking to give their crossover more capability is upgrading the tires. The first thing we did to our RAV4 when we bought it was swap the stock tires with a set of ĢżTheyā€™re an all-terrain tire specifically designed for lighter duty vehicles like crossovers. So, unlike fitting a traditional all-terrain tire designed for a truck or heavier SUV, these wonā€™t ruin a crossoverā€™s fuel economy or create an unnecessarily harsh ride.

What they will do is give your rig a lot more traction on dirt roads and slippery surfaces, like mud and snow, than the highway tires that are stock on crossovers, thanks to a more aggressive tread pattern. Theyā€™re also severe-snow rated, and while not as good as a true winter tire, weā€™ve found them to work very well in the snow. We just put another set on the RAV4 after over 50,000 trouble-free miles on the first set. Weā€™ve taken the RAV4 on many adventures along dirt roads and havenā€™t had a flat yet.

If you want to use your crossover to get to a remote trailhead or gain some confidence in slippery terrain, I highly recommend investing in aftermarket all-terrain tires specifically designed for crossovers.

Recovery Points and Gear

Next, we added a receiver hitch. We donā€™t plan to do any towing with the RAV4, but we do want to be able to use a hitch-mounted bike rack and, more importantly, add a proper recovery point in case we get stuck.

You might think that requires a trip to the dealership, but if youā€™re even mildly handy, you can easily add an aftermarket hitch yourself withĢża socket set. I went with a because itā€™s one of the lowest profile hitches on the market for crossovers, but still uses a 2-inch receiver (it also costs hundreds less than the ).

Most trucks and SUVs use a 2-inch receiver, so in our case, the bike rack and cargo rack we use on our Tundra fits the RAV4 without issue or adapters. Torklift is also a brand Iā€™ve used in the past for things like truck camper tie-downs, hitches for travel trailers, and more, and Iā€™ve always been impressed with the quality of their products.

The Ecohitch doesnā€™t require drilling, and, it took me about an hour to mount it. As for the actual recovery point, we carry a ($47) and a ($75) in our car. The shackle receiver slots into the RAV4ā€™s hitch and provides a secure attachment point for the recovery rope.

We also got another, dedicated set of ($180) for the RAV4. Rather than mounting a set of the larger MaxTrax to the roof of the car like we do on the truck, we opted for the Minis and a carry bag. Theyā€™re a better size for the RAV4, and the carry bag lets us toss them in the back if we know we might be in a situation where weā€™ll need them, like a camping trip or heading up to the ski area for the day.

³§³Ü²õ±č±š²Ō²õ¾±“Ē²ŌĢż

One of our only complaints about the RAV4 has been the ride on rougher dirt roads. Ours is a Hybrid XLE model, so presumably Toyota meant for this thing to spend the majority of its time on pavement, and they specced the shocks accordingly. It rides nicely on the highway, but itā€™s uncomfortably stiff on dirt roads, and any sort of pothole or larger dip feels likeĢżyouā€™re riding a pogo stick. Some online research revealed this as a common complaint, and I noticed Toyota specs different shocks on its Woodlands and TRD Off Road RAV4 models.

When I looked for a suitable upgrade, everything I came across was part of a and specifically designed to give the vehicle more clearance. I wasnā€™t interested in lifting the RAV4 since there are a lot of vehicle with independent suspension and limited suspension travel. Weā€™ve also found the RAV4 to have ample clearance for what we do.

Thatā€™s when I found . I came across the brand while researching suspension options for our new camper van (more on that in an upcoming article), and realized they make . Koni is based in Holland, and while theyā€™re somewhat of a new name in the U.S. overland market, they made a name for themselves in the heavy truck off-road racing world long ago.

Their line of Special Active shocks features what Koni calls ā€œFSDā€ or Frequency Selective Damping. In a nutshell, the shocks use low damping forces when the vehicle is traveling in a high frequency environment, like on long stretches of smooth road, but use high damping forces when traveling in a low frequency area like a road with a lot of bumps or sharp corners. Itā€™s a simple design that doesnā€™t require any adjustment on the part of the driver, but works wonders to smooth out the ride on rougher roads.

These shocks have made a massive difference in how the car handles on rougher dirt roads. Washboard is significantly more comfortable, as are larger bumps and potholes on pavement. On-road driving feels about the same, with perhaps less body roll than beforeā€”our RAV4 hasnā€™t turned into a desert racing machine, but getting to the trailhead is now a lot more pleasant.

Less Is MoreĢż

The list of modifications we made isnā€™t long, and it might not seem like much of an adventure rig ā€œbuild,ā€ but thatā€™s the point. As the old saying goesā€”if it ainā€™t broke, donā€™t fix it. A crossover like our RAV4 is already great at doing a lot of things, like daily driving duties, light dirt road touring, road trips, and more.

The only other modification Iā€™m considering is adding a front skid plate from for more protection from rocks and other obstacles youā€™re likely to encounter off-road. I think adding skid plates is a much better idea than adding a lift for more clearance, and LP ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶų is a great source for things like skid plates, bumper guards, wheels, and tires for crossovers.

The improved ride, along with better tires and a dedicated recovery point in the form of a hitch, have significantly improved the capability of our little RAV4. Itā€™s notā€”and never will beā€”a Jeep Wrangler or a Toyota Tacoma, but for 90 percent of the driving we do, it works just fine.

The post 3 Easy Fixes to Make Your Crossover Vehicle More Off-Road Capable appeared first on ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶų Online.

I think of my old car sometimes when I drive by the Walmart Supercenter. The parking lot there was essentially the launch point of my first real long-distance road trip as an adult, spanning ten days and eight states in the late spring of 2004. We drove my 1996 Pontiac Grand Am GT, a car that my friend Nick announced had taught him that he would “never buy a two-door car.”

I didnā€™t keep a journal of the trip, but I believe Nick said that while standing in the Watchman Campground in Zion National Park, on maybe our eighth day of wrangling gear in and out of the car’s back seats. We couldnā€™t use the trunk because it was full of everything I could justify bringing from my grad school apartment in Missoula, Montana, to our terminus in Scottsdale, Arizona, where I was moving in with my then-girlfriend. We tried to keep what we needed in the backseat, and of course to access anything in the backseat, you had to fold the front seat down, lean in, and bend around the corner.

I believe this type of two-door design was, and maybe still is, referred to as a ā€œcoupe,ā€ a word that is almost never paired with the word ā€œadventure,ā€ which is what we were trying to use the Grand Am for, and certainly not the word ā€œdirtbag,ā€ which is the type of adventure we were trying to have.

We left Missoula about 10 days before Memorial Day. Nick bussed in via a Greyhound from somewhere in Iowa, an 18-hour ride heā€™d probably never do again.Ģż So a car, any car, a space heā€™d only have to share with one person, probably felt like an improvement.

I had gotten the car through my college roommate Chris, whose brother, Andy, had bought it at an auction, repaired the one thing that was wrong with it (someone had tried to steal the passenger-side airbag), and then sold it to me. There were a few reasons why it was not the ideal road trip car, some of which were my fault.

I had packed the trunk almost full by the time Nick added his stuff, and then attached a trunk-mount Yakima bike rack to haul an old Schwinn mountain bike all the way to Arizona, so if either of us wanted anything in the trunk, we had to remove the bike, pull off the bike rack, and then open the trunk. The bike and the rack, of course, fell off the back of the car multiple times on bumpy mountain roads, first on our way up and down to the Mt. Pilchuk trailhead outside of Seattle. The summit was in a cloud when we arrived at the end of our short, steep hike.

People sleep in all kinds of adventure vehiclesā€”old vans, new Sprinter vans, RVs, trucks with toppers, trucks with campers, station wagons, even in sedans in which the back seats fold down. The Grand Amā€™s seats did not fold down. And we couldnā€™t recline the front seats very far on account of all our stuff in the backseat. Still, we slept in the car twice, because we were young and durable, and had no other options, once next to the ocean somewhere near Aberdeen, Washington, and once near Barstow, California, where weā€™d driven after hiking up Half Dome and being unable to find a campsite anywhere near the park.

We camped almost all the other nights, except for a couple nights we spent on friendsā€™ floors in Seattle and Bend. The trunk light somehow melted a hole in Nickā€™s Therm-a-Rest on the second-to-last day of the trip, so he slept rather uncomfortably on our last night in Mexican Hat, Utah. Weā€™d walked into the ranger station at Natural Bridges National Monument late that afternoon and asked about campsites, and in an I-swear-this-actually-happened exchange that Iā€™ve written about elsewhereā€”itā€™s so dumb it sounds like I made it upā€”the ranger said, ā€œYou guys donā€™t want to camp here. Youā€™ll be done with this park in an hour. Tell you what: Are you intense?ā€

I looked at Nick, kind of shrugged, and nodded. We were young, fairly fit, and maybe looked pretty intense, I guess. The ranger went on to tell us to head south to Valley of the Gods, the entirety of which was BLM land, and we could just pull off the road and camp anywhere we found a spot. We thanked him for the advice and left, and I was unlocking the car door in the parking lot by the time I realized what heā€™d actually said. Over the roof of the car, I said to Nick,

ā€œOh, he meant ā€˜in tents,ā€™ like are we camping in tents or do we have an RV.ā€

ā€œYeah,ā€ Nick said, not understanding my confusion.

The low clearance of the Grand Am meant we didnā€™t get too far into Valley of the Gods before we chickened out and drove back to the paved highway, and spent the night in a paid campground behind a lodge in Mexican Hat. It was not that intense. The next day we drove through Monument Valley, checked out the South Rim of the Grand Canyon, and gave the car a well-earned rest in a visitor parking spot at my girlfriendā€™s apartment complex in Scottsdale, after the biggest adventure it would ever go on.

To be fair, I had not bought the car under any pretense of it being a ā€œroad trip vehicleā€ or ā€œadventure vehicle.ā€ I bought it because it was a pretty good deal, from a trusted friend, and I was not very picky about cars. And I didnā€™t treat it that wellā€”I bought it in 1999, if memory serves, and I have been sober since March 2002, but the period of time between was a bit rough on the car. The inoperable driverā€™s-side window was my fault (rolling it down when it was iced over), as was whatever went wrong with the front right wheel (hit a curb at high velocity). The windshield had been shattered once (a friend tried to jump over the car as we were leaving a party; I eventually got it repaired), and the trunk-mount CD player had been smashed by a full beer keg that rolled into it (on the drive back to our party).

Still, it was what I had, and entering the job market in 2004 with a graduate degree in journalism, I wasnā€™t exactly ready for a down payment on a new BMW. Or any car, really. I worked for a year in the Phoenix area, and then moved to Denver, where the Grand Am was even less useful, because, you know, snow.

Luckily, Nick, who lived in Denver, had bought a 2004 Toyota Tacoma, and was willing to drive to Summit County ski resorts in the winter and mountain trailheads all summer. One winter day, though, I drove up to Rocky Mountain National Park to snowshoe, and met a guy my age who also happened to be from the Midwest. We chatted all the way back to the parking lot, and when I stopped behind the Grand Am, he asked, ā€œIs this your car?ā€

I said, ā€œYeah. Itā€™s kind of a Midwest car.ā€

He said, ā€œItā€™s kind of a meth car.ā€

I wasnā€™t about to defend the Grand Amā€™s honor. I mean, its overall aesthetic didnā€™t exactly scream ā€œNOT a meth car,ā€ but it also had never really let me down, at least not in a big way. And although we never drove my car to a trailhead if there was any sort of questionable dirt road involved, I thought of the day the previous summer that we had taken Nickā€™s Tacoma to climb Grays and Torreys peaks. The road to the trailhead was rough with bumps, holes, and big exposed rocks, and I was glad Nick had volunteered to drive his truck.

But then, about a half-mile from the trailhead, the Jeep in front of us slowed, and in front of the Jeep was someone in a Honda Civic negotiating a very tricky-for-a-sedan spot in the road, backing up, re-orienting, pulling forward, backing up again, and then sending it, with nary a scrape. The Civic made it to the trailhead just fine. I lived in Colorado off and on for 15 years, and I learned that whenever you think that a Forest Service road is impassable by anyone without high clearance and 4-wheel-drive, youā€™ll always see that someone made it up to the parking area in a goddamn Honda Civic.

The Grand Am survived our 10-day, eight-state road trip, and saw its share of national parks and quite a few Forest Service roads, but it was never my first choice if anyone else was willing to drive their vehicle for a day of hiking or skiing. One night in February 2006, I was cruising up Josephine Street in Denver with my then-girlfriend, and a guy floored it from a stop sign on 5th Avenue, not seeing us until his car bulldozed into the front passenger side of the Grand Am at full speed. We rammed into a light pole on the street corner, hard enough to bend it, but not hard enough to knock it over. Just after we came to a stop, I looked over to my girlfriend and asked, ā€œAre you OK?ā€ She answered yes, she thought she was OK. A few seconds later, I quietly but excitedly said, ā€œI think the carā€™s totaled.ā€ The carā€™s destruction, of course, being the only way I would be able to replace it, with my $25,000/year salary at the newspaper. As soon as the insurance money came, I found an all-wheel-drive 1996 Subaru Impreza Outback on Craigslist. I figured it could take me anywhere I wanted to go, and it did.

The Grand Am was a bad fit for the lifestyle I wanted at the timeā€”I was chomping at the bit to see the world, and the world I wanted to see didnā€™t have smooth roads leading to it. It was a piece of gear that didnā€™t work that well. But when I was first starting out, none of the stuff I had was very goodā€”cotton pants, clunky hiking boots, bargain backpacks that didnā€™t fit, a heavy sleeping bag, the cheapest climbing shoes I could find, thrift-store snowboard pants.

Would some better gear have been nice? Sure. But Iā€™m glad I didnā€™t let it keep me from getting out there.

The post An Ode to the Worst ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶų Carā€”and All the Places It Took Me appeared first on ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶų Online.

As he slathered SPF 30 onto his left calf, Ryan Johnson looked back at me and issued a warning: expect honking. I hadnā€™t been astride a bike in six years, but here I was on a brutally hot late-October afternoon in Arizona, an e-bike beside me, preparing for a ride. Our destination was a cycling path along the Salt River, which bisects Tempe, a city of 189,000 people about ten miles (or 60 minutes by bike) east of Phoenix. Tempe is home to Arizona State University, and itā€™s also the place where Johnson is currently running a grand residential experiment.

Johnson is the cofounder of Culdesac, a real estate development firm that wants to flip the script on urban living. In May 2023, he became one of the first tenants of Culdesac Tempe, a new complex taking shape on an otherwise inconspicuous tract of dirt. More than 225 people have since moved into apartments located inside a tight grouping of white stucco buildings that might be described as Santorini lite, with trendy balconies, spacious courtyards, and inviting patios shaded by trees.

Similar to those pseudo-urban enclaves situated outside Americaā€™s metropolises where residences and retail commingle, Culdesac has its own grocery store, gym, cafĆ©, and mail service. Thereā€™s a bike shop on the premises, as well as a clothing consignment store, a plant emporium, an art studio, and a wellness boutique that offers IV hydration. A coworking space is located above the gym. Cocina Chiwas, the restaurant on the corner, combines craft cocktails with its own take on Mexican fare. This past May, the restaurantā€™s owners opened up Aruma, a coffee shop across from the restaurant.

Once construction is complete, which will take several years, will comprise 760 units total, ranging from studios to three-bedrooms and housing approximately 1,000 residents. The catch: not one of those units will come with a parking space. ā€œWeā€™re the first car-free neighborhood built from scratch in the U.S.,ā€ says Johnson.

Virtually every residential development anywhere in this country includes parking, a requirement common in city building codes. At Culdesac, if you do own a vehicle, itā€™s a condition of your lease that you refrain from parking it within one block, in any direction, of the community. ā€œWe canā€™t tell people that they canā€™t own a car,ā€ says Johnson, a tall, lanky 41-year-old. ā€œBut if people want to have a car, there are other great neighborhoods for them.ā€

The thought made me shudder. Where I live, in the suburbs of Washington, D.C., about an hour from the city, a car is practically a prerequisite for getting to the grocery store, the barber, the doctorā€™s office, the liquor store. Bike lanes are sporadic. There arenā€™t many bus stops within walking distance. Taking a rideshare to visit family, an hour by car at least, seems more than a little silly. While I typically work from home, when traveling I drive to the airportā€”in the Ford Bronco my wife and I bought last year. (And if I can be frank: I just want a vehicle.)

ā€œI had an SUV in high school,ā€ Johnson, who hasnā€™t owned a car in 13 years, told me when I met him. ā€œI just didnā€™t know any better.ā€

The e-bike ride was my first lesson in automotive deprivation. I had flown here to try out a one-bedroom apartment at Culdesac and experience carless living for several days. Thereā€™s a light-rail stop one street over, but early Culdesac residents received a complimentary electric bike, which is Johnsonā€™s favorite mode of transportation. (He owns about 70 of them, most stored at his companyā€™s main office downtown.) Plus, I was told that a ride on the Salt River bike path, 100-degree weather be damned, would provide unobstructed views of the mountains framing the cityā€™s skyline.

We just had to get there first, which involved traveling on streets lacking any bike lanes. The speed limit on our route was 25 miles an hour, but my e-bike maxed out at 20. Barely ten minutes into the journey, I heard the first honk.

Ditching cars entirely might seem crazy. (In nearby Phoenix, once described by The New York Times as an ā€œever-spreading tundra of concrete,ā€ theyā€™re more of a necessity than a luxury.) But what Culdesac is attempting to accomplish is a revision of city living, where the pedestrian, not the automobile, is more valued. To Johnson, Culdesac is an oasis in a desert of car-fueled aggravationā€”a walkable community thatā€™s safe, entertaining, better for the climate, and better for the individual. And he believes that if he builds it, people will come.

The post Can Car-free Living Make You Happier? appeared first on ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶų Online.

How do you organize tools, camping gear, and sports equipment in your truck bed? Itā€™s a complicated problem that requires you to balance factors like security and accessibility, even while dealing with stuff that comes in a variety of shapes, sizes, and degrees of fragility. That problem is even harder if you drive a small truck like , simply because you have very little space to work with. But finally, there is an easy solution to all of that.

Decked has been around since 2013, and most truck enthusiasts will be familiar with the brandā€™s recycled high-density polyethylene, made-in-America truck bed drawer systems. That material is virtually indestructible across exposure to weather, chemicals, and impacts, making it perfect for use in the back of a pickup, but molding it into elaborate shapes is complicated. So, compared to weaker, less weather-resistant drawers constructed from plywood, the old Decked systems sacrificed a lot of space.

Letā€™s look at what Iā€™m talking about. Above is an image of the old Decked drawers, mid-explosion. Storage space is only available inside the drawers themselves (which are narrower at the bottom than at the top, and inside the bins at the corners. Thereā€™s several inches of lost space along the entire length of the system, at the center between the drawers, and large volumes of wasted space all around the wheel arches on both sides. Even in a \ small truck like a Ranger, that likely totals several cubic feet. I enjoyed the ability to organize smaller items while carrying large loads on the systemā€™s totally flat top surface, but never felt like I was getting the most out of the space available in my five-foot bed.

Developing this new system, Decked set out to waste less space.

“We have been listening intently since day one to our customers, and after ten years, we knew what needed to be improved,” explains Decked’s vice president of marketing, Greg Randolph. “Our new Drawer systems feature way more drawer extension, bigger drawers, far less wasted space, and vastly improved topside cargo retention. Redesigning from the ground up allowed us to address these common complaints. We also brought our molding in house and stood up a 70,000 square-foot, high-pressure injection molding plant in Ohio. Switching from low-pressure to high-pressure injection molding allowed us to produce higher fidelity and better quality parts and doing it ourselves allows us to control every piece of the product all along the way.”

The advantages the new system brings are obvious. By switching to one large drawer (on midsize trucks only, systems designed for larger vehicles like a Ford F-150 still run two drawers) with vertical sides, will enable you to carry larger objects safely inside, while making better use of space both in the bed and drawer. And, at the corners, those bins are replaced with open voids, accessible both from the tailgate and doors in the top load surface. The system is supported by vertical walls that run the length of the bed on either side of the drawerā€”those represent the only lost storage space.

Readers who have asked if the large, single drawer means you need to move stuff off the tailgate to access the drawer’s contents. While the answer is obviously yes, there’s plenty of spare room on either side to scoot your beer or whatever, so it really doesn’t feel like there’s any additional hassle over the old system. As an advantage, the drawer now pulls out three inches further than before, making it easier to reach anything you have shoved deep inside it.

Another big change is that the floor of that drawer is now made from aluminum slats rather than HDPE, allowing Decked to span that distance with total rigidity, and that surface is then covered by a rubber pad to prevent contents from sliding around too much. The entire drawer system is sealed by a thin HDPE wall that butts against the truck cab, corrugated plastic drawer sides, and a length of rubber weather stripping at the drawer opening, all of which help keep stuff in the drawer while preventing dust and precipitation from whirling their way inside through the complex aerodynamics taking place around an uncapped bed. Just like the old system, you can clean this new one-off using a pressure washer, while stuff stored in the drawer stays totally dry.

Decked claims these changes add 30 percent more available volume inside a 5-foot bed like mine. Thatā€™s an enormous difference. Where I pretty much maxed out any available room in the old system with essential tools and supplies I feel I need to carry all the time (Boy Scouts really hammered that ā€œbe preparedā€ message into my still-elastic brain at an early age), loading that same stuff into the new drawers leaves about one-third of the drawer space and the entire side areas open. That means I can move several bulky items of camping gear inside the drawer and under the side load surfaces, freeing up equivalent space inside the that caps my bed.

But I needed to install the system before I could do that. Pulling the old one out of my truck and then bolting it into a friendā€™s was a good reminder that the simplicity of the previous product brought some advantages, even if it wasnā€™t terribly efficient. Removing and reinstalling those old drawers took maybe an hour-and-a-half and could have been handled by one person. The new Decked involves a lot more small parts, a fair amount of head scratching, and some trial and error with fitment. Iā€™d tell a friend you need them for an entire afternoon and make sure you have a truckā€™s worth of flat, dry floor space to lay parts out on while you puzzle your way through assembly.

The big downside with Decked has always been that HDPE is slick, and the system typically covers the tie downs provided inside a truck bed. With the old system, you could add tie-down tracks by bolting them to the steel supports inside the load surface. Doing so cost a little extra money, but provided multiple, reconfigurable tie-down points. On the new system, Decked provides three mounting points for D-rings on each side (and gives you four of those D-rings to fill the six locations). That partially addresses the problem from the beginning, but ultimately provides you fewer options for attaching stuff to the load surface. The optional also helps, albeit for an eye-watering $500.

Along with the squared-off drawer (replacing the tapered shape on the old system) come new, squared-off storage boxes. These also make better use of space. The ($150) and ($90) are extremely robust Pelican Case alternatives that feature much more user-friendly latches, and a really convenient folding handle.

Iā€™m using a Halfrack to store my recovery straps, shackles, pulleys, and other related items. Not only is all that stuff heavy, but you sometimes need to carry it for a few hundred yards if youā€™re helping a stranded vehicle other than your own, and the secure latches and comfortable handle help there.

Other stuff Iā€™m loading into the ($125 for a set of three), which are a more robust alternative to the snap-lid bins all of us organize our basements, and are also custom-fit to take up one-half the width of the drawer. Those are strong enough to house tools, kitchen gear, clothing, or whatever you can come up with, and make even better use of space thanks to thinner, less robust construction. All these new boxes also nest together when stacked, so work as well on top of the load surface as they do in the drawer. The system ships with one Halfrack, one Sixer, and a Bin. The extremely large volume of the new drawer necessitates that you use boxes or bags to keep small stuff from rolling around.

Thereā€™s also an open catch-all bin at the rear of the drawer that makes a great home for frequently used odds and ends like lighters, multitools, bug spray, hand sanitizer, and such. Itā€™s sized to fit a 12-back of beer sideways on either side of the single latch.

The open voids on each side of the drawer run past the wheel arches, all the way to the cab. Thereā€™s a large door on each side over the rear portion, and a small one up front, by the cab. Not only do these voids provide access to check tightness on the new turnbuckles that attach the system to your truckā€™s bed tie downs, but they make versatile use of awkwardly shaped spaces left unused by the original Decked drawers system.

Iā€™ve already found use for the rearmost void areas by stuffing camp chairs and my large camp stoveā€™s legs, plus awning stays for the GoFastCamperā€™s windows into them. The front part of the void I havenā€™t figured out yet, since itā€™s mostly wheel arch below the load surface, but I may use that to stash emergency clothing layers, a backpacking quilt, or similar backup items itā€™d be reassuring to have along, but which I donā€™t need frequent access to. Should you want to organize small items using those areas, the system ships with two deep and two shallow bins that nest into the rear access doors. I may use mine to store fuses, nuts, bolts, filters, and other spare parts.

Right now, Iā€™m packing the truck for a three-month trip to Baja Sur. Itā€™s never easy to fit 300 pounds of dogs, all our camping gear, plus the clothes we want to wear in civilization into such a small truck. But compared to the trip we took down there in my first Ranger to get married, right before the pandemic was declared in 2020, I feel like I have loads of space to spare. And I packed the truck that time using plastic bins instead of drawers. Not only does the new Decked system make it feel like Iā€™m working with a larger truck bed, but it does that while organizing all the stuff weā€™re carrying better than ever before.

The post This New Drawer System Will Revolutionize How You Pack Your Truck appeared first on ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶų Online.

No traction system in your car or truck can operate except through your tires. But here in North America, it can be hard, if not impossible, to tell if a tire is safe to use in winter conditions. And thatā€™s what a new Ice Grip symbol aims to fix. Already rolling out on tire sidewalls, it indicates a tire has undergone testing to demonstrate safe levels of traction on bare ice.

I talked to two of the engineers behind the symbol to find out more.

Why do we need a new sidewall stamp? Well, last winterā€™s record snowfall in Tahoe provided the perfect example. Drivers visiting the area to ski were filmed pirouetting down hills, piling up in multi-car crashes, and generally exhibiting poor behavior. Why? Because every one of the cars filmed struggling was wearing inappropriate tires.

Tahoe indicates a larger problem. Like we explored at the time, existing sidewall symbols, tire categories, and government regulations are colliding to dangerously mislead consumers. Letā€™s briefly recap some tire terminology:

All-Season: A type of tire drivers understandably assume is safe to use through all four seasons, but is in fact simply the cheapest possible option. All-season tires begin losing grip even on dry pavement as temperatures fall below 45 degrees.

All-Terrain: A type of off-road capable tire that prioritizes on-road safety and efficiency. While an all-terrain may wear sidewall stamps that indicate winter capability, many donā€™t. And even though many drivers assume all-terrains make a good option for tackling winter conditions, none match the safety provided by a true winter tire.

M+S: Like the topic of this article, a sidewall stamp. This one claims to indicate capability in mud and snow, but is actually obtained through a two-dimensional analysis of the tread pattern indicating a ratio of at least 25 percent void to lug. California regulations refer to tires wearing the M+S stamp as ā€œsnow tires,ā€ and allow any all- or four-wheel drive vehicle fitted with them to drive over snowy mountain passes without first fitting chains (you must still carry those). Itā€™s easy to see why drivers assume M+S tires are safe to use in snow, but no test of any kind is required to earn the stamp, and it indicates no designed, intended, or incidental capability in winter weather.

Three Peak Mountain Snowflake: Commonly abbreviated to 3PMSF in North America, or ā€œalpine tireā€ in Europe, tires which earn this stamp have completed an actual test. The procedure requires that a tire must demonstrate acceleration traction at least 10 percent superior to that of the , which is manufactured for that express purpose by Michelin and has characteristics similar to those of a typical all-season. That test is performed on medium-packed snow only, and while tires wearing the 3PMSF may perform better than that 10 percent baseline, there is no way for consumers to learn that information. As a result, 3PMSF also ends up being effectively meaningless in the real world. A tire wearing it may perform better in winter conditions than a standard all-season, but how much better can vary from that 10 percent minimum, to something that genuinely feels safe and reassuring.

And thatā€™s it. Thatā€™s the extent of officialdom surrounding what defines a winter-capable tire in North America. As a result drivers are left to parse consumer reviews, tire maker marketing, and my advice if they want to run a tire that will actually make them safer in winter. A situation thatā€™s far from ideal, even if judged only from the perspective of the number of unread emails in my inbox.

Enter Mikko Liukkula and Jarmo Sunnari, respectively the development manager and global product manager for Finlandā€™s .

ā€œPeople didnā€™t understand that wet grip and winter grip and snow grip and ice grip were different things,ā€ explains Sunnari. In Europe, thereā€™s actually two categories of winter tires: those designed for central European conditionsā€”where the challenges are rain and slushā€”andĢż the ones necessary to drive safely in nordic countries. Not only are temperatures far colder in those countries, but roads at northern latitudes remain snow-covered all winter long. Since you can drive on frozen lakes, the amount of drivable terrain is much larger in the wintertime. So, while a 3PMSF tire , that standard isnā€™t stringent enough for LuleĆ„.

ā€œWe tire manufactures realized this dilemma that we have two types of winter tires in Europe,ā€ Sunnari continues. ā€œWe have the nordic winter tires with terrific ice grip, and we have central European winter tires with terrific wet performance and high speed performance. And we wanted to have this element somehow visible in the tire labeling, so that the consumers would not be misled by the label and the criteria, and the performance that it shows.ā€

So, about a decade ago, Sunnari and Liukkula worked with their colleagues at other European tire makers to establish a winter tire working group within the European Tire and Rim Technical Organization, which promotes safety through mutually agreed standards and testing.

ā€œAnd so we started there, together, to create a test method,ā€ says Liukkula. ā€œWe selected some tires and we tested together in various conditions and, little by little, we restricted the conditions and the methodology. I think we did two or three years of testing together. And then we restricted the parameters, the temperatures, the temperature window. For example, for ice and snow, how the tire load conditions should be, how different sizes could be tested, and so on.ā€

The challenge in establishing a test standard is to eliminate variables while staying relevant to real world conditions. Winter driving is unpredictable. Drivers encounter many different types of snow, for example, and driving along a road through varying altitudes, sun exposure, wind conditions, and human activity vary snow from loose powder to hard pack to bare pavement and back again, constantly. But the most difficult challenge a tire will encounter is ice, which is pretty straightforward for humans to create and control. So, the ETRTO working group decided to focus on icy surfaces.

First published in 2021, the resulting specifies a course that, ā€œshall be flat, smooth, polished ice and watered at least 1 hour before testing.ā€ Air temperatures measured 3.3 feet above the surface must be between 5 and 39 degrees Fahrenheit, while the surface of the ice itself must be between 5 and 23 degrees. The standard also instructs that weather conditions like precipitation, blowing snow, and direct sunlight must be avoided. Brand new tires are used, but each is broken in for 62 miles on bare pavement before initial testing, and 3 to 6 miles between each test run. Michelinā€™s Standard Reference Test Tire is used as the control, and must be the same size and load rating as that which comes standard on the test vehicle, and as the tire being evaluated, and both must be inflated to pressures specified by the vehicle manufacturer. Test runs are then conducted while braking from 15.5 miles per hour to a dead stop.

I asked Sunnari why the braking test was chosen rather than, or in addition to, acceleration or lateral grip. ā€œWhat we decided in the very beginning of the development of this method was that we need the simplest possible way to segregate the tires upon the ice grip,ā€ he explains. ā€œSo the easiest way was ice braking. And that is also creating the most safety. Acceleration is of course important from a mobility point of view, but it is not as important from the safety point of view. And when you have good ice braking properties on the tire, you probably also have good acceleration and good side grip.ā€

ā€œThe short answer is we use the ice braking test because itā€™s the simplest way,ā€ continues Liukkula. He explains that Nokian uses a 2,300-foot long tent to cover its test course to eliminate environmental variables, and that the test must also be repeated three times on three subsequent days, with the control tire running both before and after the test tire. All runs are averaged at the end, and to earn the ice grip symbol, a tire must demonstrate an average stopping distance at least 18 percent shorter than the reference tire.

Is an 18 percent difference at 15 MPH really a significant advantage? ā€œThe relative performance between the tires is not changing if you change the starting speed,ā€ says Liukkula, going on to say that you can continue to extrapolate that same percentage difference as speeds increase.

Thatā€™s something demonstrated in this video Nokian put together. 40 kilometers per hour is just about 25 miles per hour, and we can easily see here that the difference between an all-season (what Nokian labels a summer tire), and a winter tire wearing the ice grip symbol (nordic non-studded) is a full 197 feet. The ice grip symbol tire also stops 65 feet shorter than a 3PMSF tire (what Nokian labels a Central European winter tire). That could be life or death, even at such a low speed. Or the difference between a ski day, and a very expensive tow to a body shop.

What about the performance of the studded tire? Nordic countries donā€™t plow their roads clear of snow like we do in North America. Studs wear to the point of uselessness in as little as 1,000 miles when driven on bare pavement. While studded tires may offer some benefits over standard winter tires when new, the studs wear out so rapidly in North American conditions that they arenā€™t a great choice here.

Nokian currently sells one tire without studs in North America fitted with the ice grip symbolā€”. But more should be on the way, both from Nokian and other brands. ā€œIā€™m quite sure they will come in the very close future,ā€ says Sunnari. ā€œProbably the next products they will launch they will also have the ice grip mark. We have developed this method together with Continental, Michelin, Pirelli, and Bridgestone.ā€

One of the great tragedies associated with winter tires is that, even if you and I go through all the expense and effort of swapping onto them each season, weā€™re still only as safe as the drivers around us. Without incentives like reduced insurance rates or government mandates, thereā€™s no way to improve that situation. But thatā€™s actually the most exciting thing about the ice grip symbol. Since it finally gives us a standardized ability to define true winter capability beyond 3PMSF, it opens the door to official recognition of what a true winter tire is, and the benefits that tire can bring not just to individual consumers, but to all road users in areas that experience winter weather. Right now, winters are only required in a handful of European countries, some areas of Japan, and Quebec. A little sidewall stamp with three icicles hanging from the peak of a mountain could be what finally changes that.

How to Use Winter Tires

Since winter tires are such a novel concept to American drivers, I think itā€™s a good idea to include some basics in any article about them. Iā€™ll keep this as brief as possible, linking to more information.

• This article provides a more detailed explanation of why studs arenā€™t applicable to North American roads.
• This article explains why all-wheel drive is not a replacement for winter tires.
• This article includes many fun examples of people driving badly on the wrong tires, as well as an explanation of why you donā€™t want to rely on chains.
• This article contains my current recommendations for winter tires for 4x4s, trucks, and crossovers.
• ±į±š°ł±šā€™s an article about all-terrain tires.
• How do you afford winter tires? In the five years that most car purchasers own their vehicle, youā€™ll need two sets of tires anyways. Moving that purchase up, to buy a set of winters, doesnā€™t add any money to that total, while potentially saving you all the costs associated with a crash.
• Winter tires are safe to use in warmer weather, but wear out quickly in temperatures above 45 degrees. Either pay a tire shop to remove and store your summer tires every October, then refit them and store your winters every April, or purchase an additional set of wheels, mount your winters to those, and mount/dismount them yourself whenever needs dictate.
• What should you do if you live somewhere warm, and only visit winter? Youā€™re spending a ton of money on that hobby already. Delay the purchase of the latest set of skis until next year, and instead spend that money on a set of winter tires mounted to a spare set of wheels. Put them on before every trip, then take them off after. Driving in winter is too dangerous to go unprepared.

The post Recognizing This Tire Symbol Might Save Your Life This Winter appeared first on ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶų Online.

Tesla faced an avalanche of online mockeryĢżafter a video was posted to Reddit on December 12 showing a prototype Cybertruck that had to be towed out of a snowy hillside. By a Ford, no less. The vehicle, carrying a solitary Christmas tree in its bed,Ģżlacked the traction to free itself from the slippery terrainĢżin the Stanislaus national forest, despite running all-terrain tires that, per Teslaā€™s marketing,Ģżā€

The Forest Service capitalized on the viral blunder by issuing a pithy public statement that proposedĢża partnership with Tesla to promote awareness and education of their motor vehicle use maps. ā€œWe feel confident that had the driver of the Cybertruck had a better understanding of the topographical feature indicated on our maps, practiced Leave No Trace principles, and generally been more prepared, this whole incident could have been not only avoided, but also provided much-needed education to many new off-road users,ā€ said Stanislaus National Forest Supervisor Jason Kuiken in a

TheĢżmaps, which the forest publishes online, illustrate which roads and trails motorized vehicles are allowed to use. If the road is out of bounds, itā€™s for good reason: the unsuspecting off-roader will likely get stuck.

by in

The video, which was shared widely on Reddit and Instagram, prompted vitriol about Tesla, its founder Elon Musk, and San Francisco drivers infamous for misbehaving on snow. Each year, the hordes of fintech and coding bros descend upon the Sierra Nevada and wreak havoc upon small mountain towns, these commenters say.

It seems they donā€™t teach comp-sci students in systems architecture classes that 80 percent of any vehicleā€™s traction capability comes from its tires. But maybe the driverā€™s 18.5-inch TV in the middle of the dashboard became a distraction, and led them to drive off off the road and into a ravine.

The vehicle was a prototype, so it may not have been equipped with the Cybertruckā€™s production tires, but taking it off-road in the snow was a particularly boneheaded move if the product tester knew the truck was under-equipped.ĢżTesla, who blew up its PR department back in 2020, has not commented on the incident. For their part, the National Forest spokespeople Ģżthey were dead serious.

A better driver would have aired down the tires, which would lengthen the contact point and make the tires more flexible, or brought a traction device like Maxtrax. This driver was probably more focused on adding meme coins to his crypto portfolio than planning ahead and preparing for an excursion into the forest.

Itā€™s heartening to see someone make use of the Stanislaus National Forestā€™s free , even if the tree itself will probably be decorated with benign ornaments that wonā€™t offend whoever AirBnBs their Tahoe cabin that they visit once a year.

We hope the tech company takes the national forest up on its offer. It could use the PR, and perhaps engineers willĢżadd grippier tires to the next fleet of Cybertrucks. For an upcharge.

Teslaā€™s marketing materials say the truck was built to perform on ā€œany planet.ā€ Maybe it wouldā€™ve gotten better traction under Jupiterā€™s gravity.

The post Teslaā€™s Stuck Cybertruck Was a Christmas Gift to the Internet appeared first on ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶų Online.

One million wild animals are killed on American roads . Roads , threaten biodiversity, divide habitats, and interrupt migrations. All those collisions also hurt humans. Every year, wildlife-vehicle collisions (WVCs) kill 200 people, injure 26,000, and cost American drivers $10 billion. And now the Biden administration is doing something about it: a new initiative plans to spend $350 million over the next five years building new wildlife crossings.

ā€œThis isnā€™t just about doing the right thing for wildlife and habitats, itā€™s also about doing the right thing for passengers and drivers,ā€ secretary of transportation Pete Buttigieg told ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶų.

The U.S. Department of Transportationā€™s Federal Highway Administration is this week announcing the first projects that will be funded as part of its new . Drawing $110 million in grants from the Bipartisan Infrastructure Law, which President Biden signed in 2021, the program ā€œwill fund 19 wildlife crossing projects across 17 states and four Indian Tribes,ā€ according to the Department of Transportation.

Projects include a wildlife crossing on Confederated Salish and Kootenai Tribes land in northwest Montana that aims to provide safe passage for grizzly bears and other wildlife to cross Highway 93 within the Ninepipe National Wildlife Management Area. Grizzlies are protected under the Endangered Species Act and a key grizzly is to reestablish a population in the Bitterroot Mountains. Highway 93 is a barrier to grizzlies in Glacier National Park and the Bob Marshall Wilderness dispersing westwards towards the Bitterroots. The area where the new crossing will be constructed sees , while statewide Montanans average $87 million damages caused by WVCs.

The Wildlife Crossings Pilot Program is part of the secretaryā€™s , which aims to begin the process of working towards a longterm goal of zero road deaths. The strategy is to identify efficacious programs already in existence, then amplify and expand them nationwide. And wildlife crossings are effective. Areas equipped with crossings have seen reductions in WVCs of up to . We just need many more of them.

ā€œIf you look at a map, a road seems almost infinitely thin and small,ā€ described Buttigieg. ā€œIt looks like a little ribbon across the landscape. In actual practice, especially when you look at the migration or grazing or hunting patterns of a lot of this wildlife, it can have a huge and sometimes even devastating impact on that habitat. And so we know itā€™s correcting an issue that pitted people against ecology and replaces that with a solution. Thatā€™s the right thing to do for the wildlife and the right thing to do for human safety.ā€

Another project funded during this initial series of grants (an additional $240 million will be awarded over the next two years) will be construction of a very large wildlife overpass on Interstate 25 in Colorado, between Denver and Colorado Springs. Spanning six lanes of highway traffic, the Greenland Wildlife Overpass will provide safe passage for the areaā€™s herds of mule deer and elk as they migrate between the Rocky Mountains and Great Plains. That state sees over 3,000 WVCs each year, killing an average of 33 people, and injuring 2,000. When completed, Greenland will be one of the largest wildlife overpasses in the world.

The Wildlife Crossings Pilot Program is funding 80 percent or more of these and 17 other projects, with the rest being drawn from state or local budgets. A grant program, it solicits local expertise to solve local problems, but Buttigieg tells us he hopes that lessons learned can be applied more broadly.

ā€œThink about it in terms of return on investment,ā€ said the secretary. ā€œAbout $10 billion in damage and harm is done every year from WVCs. That means that investing something like $110 million todayā€”if it moves the needle materially on that damageā€”itā€™s going to make a big difference. But of course the best investment is a design that doesnā€™t create these problems in the first place.ā€

In addition to mitigating conflicts between road construction and wildlife habitat, Buttigieg says he hopes this program can serve as a model for how major infrastructure projects can better co-exist with wildlife, better serving animals and humans alike.

ā€œAs you look at these projects, the 19 that are represented in this round and the future rounds, we think they will also unlock a different way of doing business for the future, demonstrating support for states to use state dollars for better designs in the first place, or to improve or mitigate some of the designs weā€™ve inherited,ā€ Buttigieg continued. ā€œWe just know things that we either didnā€™t know or didnā€™t pay enough attention to in the fifties, sixties, and seventies. Letā€™s put that knowledge to work and do better this time.ā€

A signature achievement of the Biden administration, the Bipartisan Infrastructure Law is spending $1.2 trillion rebuilding and modernizing our nationā€™s aging infrastructure, adapting it to threats caused by climate change, and building the resources required by the shift to renewable energy. The administration also creating jobs and improving the economy. have been created in construction since Biden took office in 2021, and BIL has attracted over of additional private sector investments in manufacturing and clean energy, so far.

ā€œEvery time we see a round of funding like this, itā€™s not just a chance to deal with some of what we inherited, but to send a signal about what the future ought to look like,ā€ said Buttigieg. ā€œWhether weā€™re talking about freeway designs that divided neighborhoods in urban areas or highway designs that sliced up habitats in rural, mountain, and desert areas, now that weā€™re doing the right thing, weā€™re also making sure we donā€™t make the same mistakes twice.ā€

The post Pete Buttigieg Is Serious About Reducing Wildlife Vehicle Collisions appeared first on ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶų Online.

This isĢżThe Offerman Files, where actor, humorist, , and Nick Offerman shares tales ofĢżwild creatures,Ģżgassy adventures, and hitting his brother in the faceĢżwith a fish.

I grab my phone to check the channels for any fires that need putting out, only to discover that I have just the barest gossamer of cell service. I feel the same disorienting ennui Iā€™ve experienced in ballparks when tens of thousands of fellow fans are trying to post blurry home run videos simultaneously, and all you want to do is text your dad in the concession line that youā€™ll have that third bratwurst after all.

In this case, I have actual business to attend to. Iā€™m touring the UK and Dublin with guitar and backpack as a wandering humorist, performing seven shows in eight days. Itā€™s 3 P.M. on a July afternoon, and at 8 P.M. Iā€™m slated to tickle 1,800 souls at the O2 Apollo Manchester. I get a text out to my tour manager, who lets me know that a large tanker truck has crashed, dumping 5,000 gallons of milkā€”milk!ā€”across the highway, along with a sizable quantity of diesel fuel.

When I heard this I thought, Why the hell are we sitting here? Iā€™m willing to drive on a highway that is merely wet! Then I recalled from my teenage days on a blacktopping crew that we used diesel as a solvent for cleaning up asphalt and tar, because it dissolves pavement. Meaning that the crew now on the M6 will need to scrub up that diesel tout de suite, before it sinks its corrosive teeth into the roadway. At least I have plenty of time to get to the show.

About that Mercedes: it wasnā€™t my choice. For the third time in recent years, I have rented a car to convey myself around northern England and Scotland as I engage in multifaceted touring. These jaunts have me playing comedy gigs at gorgeous jewel-box theaters like the Drury Lane in Londonā€™s West End, as well as stickier old vaudeville houses in Brighton and Liverpool.

When Iā€™m over here, I also film advertisements for Lagavulin single-malt Scotch andā€”best of allā€”visit farms, especially the one owned by my good friend the shepherd and author James Rebanks, who along with his wife, Helen, manages a traditional sheep operation in the Lake District, where I often spend the night.

To get around, I have always reserved a small SUV that gets decent mileage and has enough clearance to navigate rocky lanes. Except that, during each trip, a generous rental company employee has apparently recognized my name and thought, A sensible crossover? Oh no, my bacon-and-eggs-loving friend, Iā€™m going to set you up with something considerably more flash. Then they proceed to ā€œupgradeā€ me to a tiny, sexy kumquat of a James Bond car.

Three times I have arrived to face this revelation and said, ā€œOh, thank you. Iā€™m grateful, but can I just get the Volkswagen Tiguan?ā€ Three times I have been met with a sheepish, red-faced, open-mouthed stare telling me that actually, no, they have no replacement vehicles. Hence the Mercedes.

Itā€™s 4 P.M. on the M6, and things are still not moving. To quell the first stirrings of anxiety, I take a deep breath and think back to a few days ago, at the Royal Highland Show in Edinburghā€”basically the equivalent of a New England state fair, but with tastier fish and chips. The Rebankses maintain a herd of Belted Galloway cows, of which I own a few because raising the worldā€™s finest grass-fed beef rates high among my remunerative hobbies: delicious fun that also earns me some income.

The three of us attended the Royal Highland for one reasonā€”I mean, sure, amusement and also beer were factorsā€”and that was to ā€œhelpā€ our friend Helen Ryman show her exemplary Mochrum Estate Belties, which rightly earned four prize rosettes. I got to assist the washing of her gorgeous heifer, Cora, rubbing large handfuls of shampoo into her lush coatā€”a thick, layered pelt that kept her warm through the Scottish winterā€” then using a power washer to rinse before blow-drying her spanking-clean hair.

I adore the hands-on participation, especially since this breed of ruminant is such a brilliant piece in the larger conversation about regenerative agricultureā€”specifically, rotational grazing. Instead of force-feeding grain and antibiotics to beef cows, as is the practice in the horror-show setting of factory farms, these cattle graze on uncultivated high terrain that isnā€™t suitable for growing anything else (such as cereals), and they can turn thistles into the most delicious steaks Iā€™ve ever tasted.

I settle back into my reverie. The previous morning at the Rebanks home, James woke me up at 6 A.M. Some sheep had escaped through a hole in a fence, so before we even had a cup of tea, we threw on jackets against the rain, collected his dogs Tosh, Meg, and Floss, and got on the quad bike in a trice, towing a little trailer down the road loaded with a few eight-foot-long two-by-fours and some substantial wooden posts.

We drove into a hilly pasture along a boundary fence, to the spot where the dozen or so sheep had slipped beneath the wire. James clambered over with the dogs, who were off like lightning in ranging half-circles, herding the errant ewes and lambs back through the breach. Then it was our turn to close the weak spot by pounding in a couple of posts and strategically nailing the two-by-fours across the gap. Each greenish, pressure-treated post was six feet tall and five inches in diameter, with one end sharpened like a pencil. With little discussion, we worked in tandem: I speared the post into the soil, then held it steady as James stood on the wet seat of his quad bike and pounded the top with a massive, ancient sledge. Iā€™d never been happier.

My elation in physical labor always amuses James, who makes fun of me for staying with his family so that I can split firewood and stack stone walls and just be out in the weather instead of pursuing a more conventional vacation. But for me, being of even minor service to his efforts, especially when the task calls upon the tool skills and stamina that each of us learned from our fathers, feels like the best possible thing to be doing.

That allure has never been more powerful than it is now, as I sit on a hot stretch of blacktop, waiting to be released from this supposedly wonderful ā€œtime savingā€ three-lane roadway. As the hours roll on, I really start to fear that I wonā€™t make it to Manchester in time to introduce the comedian whoā€™s opening for me. Then I have an idea: Iā€™ll record a voice memo on my phone and send it to the tour manager to play in case Iā€™m not there. ā€œGood evening, Mancunians, and welcome to the Apollo,ā€ I say. ā€œOur first entertainer is the charismatic Lou Sanders, and by the way I am recording this at 6:38 from my car, because a milk truck has gone arse-over-tit on the M6.ā€¦ā€

And then, just like that, the traffic begins to move. I kick the sprightly Mercedes into gear and race to the venue, pulling into the alley behind the theater at 8:07. As I enter by the back door, I can hear my recorded introduction just ending, and I am primed to turn my clown dial up to 11 for these fine people.

On one hand, the goose of nearly missing the show is part of the allure of the Road, with a capital R. On the other, I am forever yearning for a simpler existence, bereft of circus thrills. But just like you, I have little choice but to navigate our world of multilane motorways and mobile phones. Stuck in a traffic nightmare, I may dream of lathering cows and mending fences, but when the road opens up again, the show must go on.

The post Nick Offerman Would Rather Be Washing Cow Butts appeared first on ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶų Online.

Four years after it was first unveiled, the Tesla Cybertruck has reached its first dozen-or-so customers. Rather than focusing on Tesla CEO Elon Muskā€™s recent problems with , all the production and design issues that led to years-long delays, or even all the broken promises about price and performance, weā€™ll focus instead on nothing but the raw specs revealed at this weekā€™s launch event: how do they compare to all the other electric pickup trucks already on the roadā€”and with trucks that will be by the time the cheapest Cybertruck will allegedly reach production in 2025.

Throughout this piece youā€™re going to note words like ā€œestimated,ā€ or ā€œshould.ā€ Itā€™s important to note a few things that make writing a story about Tesla a little different than writing a story about other car companies. Not only does Musk have a history of exaggerating when he talks about Tesla products, but the company employs no public relations people, does not produce press materials, and many of the numbers being released this week are couched in the companyā€™s own disclaimers. Without the ability to call a Tesla representative and check facts, media outlets are left reporting only on what scarce information Tesla makes public.

How Much Will The Tesla Cybertruck Cost?

The Cybertruck will eventually be available in three trim levels. Tesla says the most basic rear-wheel drive, single-motor version will cost $60,990 and have an estimated unladen range of 250 miles, while accelerating from zero to 60 miles per hour in and estimated 6.5 seconds.

Tesla quotes a maximum payload for the Cybertruck of 2,500 pounds, which is presumably for this most basic version, with the smallest, lightest battery pack. There is no word what that number is for other trim levels.

A $70,990 two-motor all-wheel drive version will come with a larger battery (thereā€™s no details on actual kilowatt-hours) that extends unladen range to 340 miles and drops 0-60 miles-per-hour time to 4.1 seconds. Again, those numbers are estimates.

Then thereā€™s the top-spec Cyberbeast, which will cost $99,900, feature a 320-mile unladen range, and do 0-60 in 2.6 seconds. Cyberbeastā€™s acceleration figure deserves its own caveat though, because itā€™s been calculated using a one-foot rollout, a method which knocks a third of a second or so off the stopwatch. It appears as if Cyberbeast will come equipped with 35-inch tires (which likely explains its range reduction). It is not clear what size tire lesser trims will come with. According to an analysis on , it is unlikely that it will be possible to fit the Cybertruck with larger tires than what it ships with.

How Does The Cybertruck Compare To Other EVs?

A basic Ford F-150 Lightning, which you can find sitting on dealer lots right now, available for immediate purchase, starts at $49,995. That price includes two motors and AWD, along with a 240-mile unladen range and a 4.2-second 0-60 time. Payload capacity is 2,235 pounds.

An extended range F-150 Lightning starts at $69,995, has a 320-mile unladen range, and does 0-60 in 3.8 seconds. The larger, heavier battery pack drops payload capacity to 1,657 pounds.

The $87,000 Rivian R1T Quad Motor has a 328-mile unladen range, can carry 1,764 pounds, and does the 0-60 MPH sprint in 3.0 seconds, as verified by . The Cyberbeast accelerates quicker, but only by the slimmest of margins.

What about towing? All the current EV pickups feature about the same 11,000 pound max trailer capacity as the Cybertruck, but none of them has anything like the range necessary to function as a practical choice in that role, even for short trips, and none can use most charging stations while a trailer is attached. Thatā€™s a problem the upcoming 2025 Ram 1500 Ramcharger solves, albeit with the aid of an internal combustion range extender. That vehicle will feature a 2,625 pound payload and 14,000 pound tow capacity.

When Will I Get My Cybertruck?

During Thursdayā€™s unveiling, Musk made a big show of a handful of customers taking deliveries of their Cybertrucks on stage. Heā€™s previously stated that almost one million people have placed refundable $100 deposits for the vehicle. When will they be given the option to complete a purchase? That remains unclear.

On Teslaā€™s website, availability for Cyberbeast and standard AWD model are listed for 2024. The basic RWD version claims it will be ā€œavailable in 2025.ā€ It is murky when series production is scheduled to begin, what volumes Tesla is targeting, what the order process will be for customers, or what priority will be given to existing refundable deposit holders. Tesla is now taking another $250 deposit on its website.

How Big Is The Cybertruck?

reports that the Cybertruck is 95 inches wide, 223.7 inches long, and 70.5 inches tall. Itā€™s not yet certain if that height is measured with 35 inches tires. The AWD model is said to weigh 6,603 pounds.

Those numbers put it at about the same size size as a crew cab Ford F-150 (albeit a few inches lower), but it weighs more than some trim levels of the Ford Super Duty.

Tesla says the Cybertruckā€™s bed is six feet long and four-feet wide. Thatā€™s the same length as long bed Toyota Tacoma, but about a foot narrower. During his presentation, Musk claimed the Cybertruck can haul 4×8-foot ā€œconstruction materials,ā€ with the tailgate lowered. Pictures show a tonneau cover unrolling from the cab to secure the bed.

There are two important caveats on bed dimensions. Musk claims the Cybertruck will be available with a ā€œrange extenderā€ which appears to be an auxiliary battery pack. While there are no details on that deviceā€™s weight, capacity, or if customers will be able to move it in and out of the truck themselves, there is a picture showing that it will take up approximately one-third of the bed space.

The Cybertruck does not appear to come equipped with a spare tire. Instead, owners who opt to purchase one will need to carry that in the bed. A 35-inch spare will also take up about half the available bed space. Equipped with both the ā€œrange extenderā€ and a spare tire, how much of the bed will remain available for cargo is rather opaque.

How Good Will The Cybertruck Be Off-Road?

During Thursdayā€™s presentation, Musk claimed that the Cybertruck will feature locking differentials.

On an internal combustion vehicle, locking the speeds of the front and rear axles together mechanically creates an arrangement commonly known as four-wheel drive. But that leaves the wheel on each axle with the least traction free to spin as fast as its counterpart on the opposite axle. Locking the axle differentials then matches wheel speeds across those axles. Putting a vehicle in four-wheel drive and locking both axle differentials maximizes traction off-road.

It is not evident if the Cybertruckā€™s locking differentials will be mechanical, or simply a software function. As with all other current EVs, there is no mechanical connection between the axles, so matching wheel speeds between them will be handled by programming.

Regardless, it appears as though Cybertruck, at least in its Cyberbeast trim, will at least be able to match the traction provided by off-road-oriented competitors like the GMC Hummer EV and Rivian R1T.

Like the Hummer EV, Cyberbeast will feature 35-inch tires, and rear-wheel steering. The former will help them climb over large obstacles, the latter makes these very large trucks much more maneuverable in tight spaces. Tesla says ground clearance on Cyberbeast is 17 inches. Hummer EV features height-adjustable suspension that can create as much as 16 inches of clear air under the truck. These numbers sound impressive in comparison to gas trucks because the EVs use independent suspension in the front and rear. Most gas trucks use a solid rear axle, and that big metal beam running between the rear wheels results in less impressive ground clearance numbers. Ground clearance is not all that important a metricā€”rather, itā€™s a vehicleā€™s approach, departure, and breakover angles that determine its ability to clear or climb large obstacles.

And while there is no word on those angles for any version of the Cybertruck, it is unlikely that they will come close to those achieved by the Hummer EV. Not only is that vehicle seven inches shorter in length, but its front and rear wheels are both pushed to the extreme ends of the platform, significantly enhancing the Hummer EVā€™s ability to clear obstacles.

How Efficient Will The Cybertruck Be?

Tesla is not releasing battery capacity numbers for any version of the Cybertruck at this time. It does say the drag coefficient is 0.335. Thatā€™s significantly behind EV sedans like the Tesla Model S, which has a drag coefficient of 0.208. The heaviest Model S is also fully 2,000 lbs lighter than the AWD Cybertruck. Moving the Cybertruck will take significantly more energy.

While cradle to grave emissions for EVsā€”even on our countryā€™s relatively dirty energy gridā€”are , that equivalent for the Cybertruck is going to be a very large, very heavy, very thirsty vehicle: just like a heavy duty pickup.

Producing a large, heavy, complicated EV, complete with whatā€™s presumably going to be a very large battery pack takes enormous amounts of energy. While we donā€™t have numbers for the Cybertruck yet, reports that it takes 50.6 metric tons of carbon just to put a Hummer EV in your driveway.

Thereā€™s also the question of what type of vehicle buyers will be replacing with the Cybertruck. Where manufacturers like Ford are putting significant efforts into enabling governments and corporations to replace their vast fleets of heavily polluting internal combustion work trucks with practical EV pickups like the F-150 Lightning, according to a report in , Tesla has no such plans, and instead will sell the Cybertruck to, ā€œwell-to-do technology savants and collectors.ā€ In other words, itā€™s just another expensive luxury vehicle, at least for now.

Unless Tesla can reach extremely large production volumes with this thing, moving hundreds of thousands of Americans out of large internal combustion pickups in the process, itā€™s unlikely the Cybertruck is going to save the planet.

Should You Buy A Cybertruck?

Beyond the polarizing design (I think it looks great), itā€™s difficult to find anything that makes the Cybertruck unique. Neither its price nor range are fully competitive in todayā€™s EV pickup market.

And that space is going to continue to develop in the years Tesla says it will take to roll out all versions of the vehicle. By 2025, Stellantis says it plans to sell an electric truck with 500 miles of all-electric range, in addition to one equipped with a gasoline-powered range extender, complete with unimpaired beds and spare tires. And those are just products we know about now.

What about performance? The most expensive trim level of the Cybertruckā€”Cyberbeastā€”is only a fraction of a second quicker than existing electric pickups. Beyond bragging rights, this wonā€™t deliver any tangible benefits to owners.

Will this thing be the ticket to zero emissions overlanding? Itā€™ll be about as good as a normal pickup truck like a basic Ford F-150 FX4 off-road, which is to say not very. And like any other electric vehicle, its range will massively limit utility in that role. Efficiency is typically halved on dirt, and with no easy means of topping off energy away from Americaā€™s patchy charging infrastructure, that means itā€™ll be limited to off-road adventures of 85 miles or less before you need to turn around and head back to one of those chargers.

When Elon Musk originally announced the Cybertruck in 2019, there werenā€™t yet any electric pickups you could buy. The idea of combining zero tailpipe emissions and EV performance into a practical vehicle you could use to replace a gas pickup for most jobs sounded really futuristic. Today, that idea is no longer novel. And neither is the Cybertruck.

But none of this really matters. Without firm production numbers or dates, and with so many existing reservations, itā€™s unlikely that youā€™ll be able to just go out and purchase a Cybertruck any time soon, if ever.

The post Teslaā€™s Cybertruck Finally Reaches Production. You May Still Wait Years. appeared first on ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶų Online.