The Big Green Bus

It’s quite possible that the only part of Dr. Allen Hershkowitz that moves faster than his lips is his mind. Dr. Hershkowitz, a senior scientist at the Natural Resources Defense Council, had the generosity to meet with us yesterday at the NRDC’s headquarters in New York City. In its usual, exquisite manner, fate sent us exactly what we needed – a fast talker who allowed us to rest our lungs for a second and instead engage our minds.
In their most recent partnership – the Dr. Hershkowitz and the NRDC have started to work with Major League Baseball – the owners, players and operations staffs of the various teams – to encourage them to adopt more sustainable practices. At first I considered the choice of partners to be curious, but very quickly (how else?) I was brought around to understand the wisdom in approaching environmental problems by working with entertainment industries.
The thought is that if we can’t enact laws that make industries produce their products in a more environmentally responsible ways, we instead use the market to our advantage. In particular, by working with publicity sensitive institutions, such as MLB, environmental advocacy groups can change the market demand such that producers find in their best interest to use post-consumer recycled fiber rather than fiber from virgin forests when making programs or napkins for ball games. And given how many people go to a ball game, that not only reduces waste, energy inputs, and environmental degradation, it’s also a great way to reach millions of Americans. As Dr. Hershkowitz said, America – teachers, workers, CEO’s, oil company execs, students, kids, and parents – meets at the ballpark.
The other point that was driven home to me this afternoon was that in communicating the benefits of environmentally responsible products to consumers it is essential to connect consumption to its upstream effects in a visceral, emotional sense. A couple of marketers from ???? Agency saw us on the street and came down to talk to us about Marcal products. When talking to them about why we buy certain products and how we make the decision, we addressed the challenge of how to connect the act of buying toilet paper made from post-consumer recycled fiber to the preservation of tracts of virgin forestland.
We tried a couple of tag lines (“Rougher on the cheek, smoother on the conscience”) to little avail. We’ll leave that challenge to the marketers. But, nevertheless, it is an important one, how do you make the connections at the point of purchase and communicate that seemingly inconsequential decisions do have real and definite consequences? How do we teach people to be ecological thinkers?

    Far be it from me to claim authority on the subject, but it seems that every street number in Ohio is 5 digits long. I remember it from visiting my mom’s hometown when I was younger, and it seems the same these days. Cleveland was one stop on the bus tour where, to begin with, I wasn’t really sure why we were going through, or what our connection to the place was, or would be. But arriving in and around the city and spending a day and two nights in that city on Lake Erie, it was clear that there was a lot going on, and a lot to be learned from the people who live in and love Cleveland, Ohio.

    We started with a money-end-up look at the green roofing business, by grace of the hospitality of Brian Lambert of the Garland Company. He showed us around the old 5th 3rd bank building on Cleveland’s west side, which is home to several Cleveland-based and national environmental organizations. The building is a beautiful turn of the century brick structure with restored classical interior spaces, embellished and sumptuously colored. Apparently about 15 years ago, however, the place was a complete squatter house, and in terrible shape.

    Enter: Sadu Johnston, environmental wunderkind from Oberlin college. Under Johnston’s leadership, Cleveland’s Green Building Council, which predates the USGBC, experienced a flourishing hay day in the mid 90’s. Since then, however, the CGBC and much of the city’s green momentum has known something of a dearth of strong leadership. 3 days before our visit, in fact, Johnston’s successor had stepped down, making the leadership vacuum all the more palpable.

    Between the economic approach to environmentalism demonstrated by the Garland Company’s sustainable designs division and the visible need for strong and creative leadership experienced by Cleveland environmentalists, the day was a lesson in the real-life exigencies posed by environmental issues. As a group of 12 young students with big ideas and bigger dreams, but lacking perhaps in practical day-to-day familiarity with business and political systems, our visit to Cleveland proved an eye-opening and inspiring one. Never have I felt at once so aware of what was necessary, and what I needed to learn to take part in the coming changes.

Chicago, IL

As the Bus rumbled along America’s roadways this summer, one thing we’ve noticed is the growing number of “green buildings” across the country. We bussers have been fortunate enough to tour a number of Platinum LEED certified buildings, but the coolest piece of green building technology I’ve seen so far comes, without a doubt, from the Center for Neighborhood Technology in Chicago.

The CNT is a non-profit organization that promotes sustainable urban development in Illinois. They’ve managed to retrofit an old building to meet the coveted Platinum LEED rating—a very impressive feat considering most LEED certified buildings are brand new. The thing about their building that amazed me however, was the cooling system.

Instead of air conditioning they use an ice storage tank system to cool the building interior. Here’s how it works: A big cylindrical tank full of plastic balls was buried in the backyard. These plastic balls are about the size of a grapefruit and filled with water. At night, when energy costs are low, a freezer is activated that freezes the plastic balls. During the day, when the balls are frozen, glycol (a food-grade coolant) circulates around the building and through the frozen tank of grapefruit-sized balls. The glycol carries heat away from the building (much like the way coolant fluid works in your engine), and then becomes cold again in the tank.

It’s a very nifty way of cooling down your building during the hot summer months, and all without racking up huge electricity bills during peak demand. In a town where architecture is prized, it was great seeing the innovative ways of combining architecture and environmentalism!

I also wanted to say a big thank you to the Mathias family for a wonderful stay! Thank you!

Until next time,

Ro

Rapid City, South Dakota.

Is that…is that a wheel chair hanging from the ceiling? That was my first thought as I walked into a little workshop, late one stormy evening in Rapid City, South Dakota. A gigantic purplish dragon was sprouting out of the wall to my left, and underneath it, hung rows and rows of old street signs. Farther in the shop, I could see a mini motorbike, parts of an old amusement park ride, hang glider, welder, and just shelf after shelf of old metal parts and bits. On the back wall hung a sign that said “Big Boys’ Toys.” I smiled. There was no other word for it, the place was just…cool.

The Bus was stopped in South Dakota half way through our one thousand mile drive from Jackson to Minneapolis. We bussers were sleep deprived, dirty, and stunk like hell. We resembled zombies from the land of the unwashed (If you’re not cringing, you should be. We were disgusting). So there we were, smack dab in the middle of nowhere and I had just stumbled into the Land of Oz.

We were in Rapid City because earlier in the month, Scott from Magnum Enterprises (the country’s largest rubber band gun manufacturer) invited us to a barbeque on our way through South Dakota. As you probably guessed, the Bus was more than happy to stop for free food. What we didn’t expect was it turned out to be one of the coolest stops ever, and is a testament both to the generosity of strangers and the joys of making friends in unexpected places.

Scott and Don walked us through the process of making rubber band guns, lent us the use of the factory shower, and gave the Bus a couple toys (we now have a wooden ax!). But the best part was the amazing barbeque Scott threw us at this cool metal working shop. The whole place was stacked ceiling to floor full of interesting knick-knacks and halfway assembled things and parts, and in the center of it all, a gigantic feast. Buffalo stakes, corn on the cob, baked potatoes, veggie kebabs, and s’mores! (Hi Justice!)

We left with bellies stuffed and our hearts gladdened from the knowledge that great people are everywhere, all you have to do is drop in and say hi.

Until the next time,
Ro

August 7th, 2008

Minneapolis, MN

The Bus is heading east. All summer long we’ve been constantly building forward momentum, focusing on getting somewhere and going onwards. Now, to think that we’re on the way back is a very funny feeling. There has been a subtle shift in mood as Bussers are now looking beyond our next meal to life after August 27^th. As a recent graduate, my thoughts are more and more often preoccupied with the question, “What’s next?” (I’d also like to take a moment here to mention that we recent grads are incredibly, ahem, employable)

And yes, even I still find it slightly incredible and ridiculous that I’ve lived on a 37-foot bus for the whole summer (I can see you rolling your eyes mom). To say that we’ve developed an attachment to the Bus would be a gross understatement. In these past weeks we’ve scratched and dented the darn thing, cursed her fickle ways and then proudly displayed her to the public. We’ve gone through whirlwind cleaning sessions only to create a mess immediately after, and fixed things only to break them again. At one point, Zabel confessed to dreaming about the Bus and having nightmares of unfinished tasks (do we sound a little possessed?).

Now that we’ve been living and breathing “Bus” for two months, people tend to ask, “What’s been your favorite part of this whole experience?” It’s a question that keeps popping up, and I’m sure everyone will agree, a tough one to answer.  So, after some thought, I think this is what I’ve liked best about our journey—everywhere we go, we leave a twinkle of excitement in our wake.

To many who meet us on the road, we represent that unfulfilled adventure they have yet to embark on. Often, we remind people of their younger, more devil-may-care days. It’s very rare for the Bus not to be met with a smile and a chuckle. After all, no matter if you’re a republican or democrat, young or old, a big city shaker or small town local, you can’t but be curious and a little excited when a big, green, greasy smelling school bus pulls up!

So, let the adventure continue!

Ro

Our adventures these past few days have felt quintessentially “American”. This sentiment is probably influenced by the fact that I’ve been reading “On the Road” by Jack Kerouac, following the exploits of Sal Paradise and Dean Moriarty as they crisscrossed this country several times by bus, car, and foot at the end of the 1940s. They set out to experience life as unattached twenty somethings, searching for something raw and real, and were fueled by the spirit of the open road, never knowing where that road would lead them.

Perhaps slightly tamer, though also very “American”, was our visit to Yellowstone National Park from Sat-Mon. Following the trend set by vacationing families for decades; we entered the park, which is vast and stunningly picturesque. The bus was stopped several times in its tracks by bison lumbering across the road. It was pretty unreal to see these huge creatures up close and in the open, and I felt a little guilty as the previous night’s dinner had included stuffed peppers with bison meat. Yellowstone offers one of the darkest views of the night sky that I have ever seen, and I am happy to report that this little astro nerd got her fix as it was dark enough to see the Milky Way, the Andromeda Galaxy, and quite a few meteors from the Perseid meteor shower. During the day we ambled along paved pathways and wooden boardwalks that took us and the other tourists to Old Faithful and a field of beautiful hot springs and Geysers. (Check out the Yellowstone photo album for those.)

We left Yellowstone in the afternoon, greased, and drove East through the night. We have what has been called our “longest and most stressful drive” ahead of us. We’ve allotted 30 hours for the drive to Minneapolis, tacking on a few extra hours for shower time and the inevitable opportunity for our engineering crew to show off their ability to solve any problem the bus throws at them. It’s incredibly useful having a handful of bus drivers on a long drive like this as we can drive straight through the day and night. Yesterday, while driving the sunrise shift, I realized that the crew has organically developed a set of guidelines to survive these long drives:

1. The driver of the bus is god. You must keep the driver happy at all times, lest you feel their wrath in the form of a fiery collision. Feed the driver good music, water, caffeine, and food. Consider them to be a life-sized Tamagotchi pet. This involves having a dedicated person staying awake and riding shotgun through the night, in both the bus and the chase car.
2. Music is always playing, especially at night. The driver has final say on the music. You know better than to argue, but you may ridicule. Trey is first choice for DJ, Drago or Bennet’s Ipod is second.
3. Caffeine is your friend. We have experimented with all types of energy drinks this summer, all to varying degrees of ick. Everyone has his or her favorite. Embrace it.
4. Sharing is good. Share the string cheese and pickles in the fridge. Share the Internet. Share water. Share greasing responsibilities. Share books. Share the prime (2 couches, 2 mattresses) sleeping space. Drivers coming off shifts or those on deck for driving get first dibs on claiming a sleeping spot.
5. The CB radio stays on at all times. Apart from being a safety feature and a way for the drivers of the bus and chase car to communicate efficiently, it makes a great impromptu karaoke mic (much to the chagrin of sleeping riders).

Sixty years later, though our trip may not outwardly resemble the adventure Paradise and Moriarty shared, I’d like to think that rules 1-4 haven’t changed too much. We’re not reinventing the wheel, just painting it green. East coast, here we come!

Rainier, WA

After relishing our experience in Portland, we continued north towards Seattle. On the way, we spent two nights in Rainier National Park. The mountain stands over fourteen thousand feet tall, towering over everything it surrounds. We arrived on a socked in, dreary day. The information packet tried to cajole me, reassuring that this was “the most common state of Rainier,” but its message offered little solace. What’s more, our night was spent in an RV campsite that seemed a far cry from the Rainier camping experience we had envisioned.

In the morning we relocated to Cougar Falls, a site that was much more in tune with our vision of Rainier camping. We spent the day hiking through glacier snow with exceptionally limited visibility. Just knowing the mountain towered above us was somewhat mystical. Even amidst the fog we stumbled upon beautiful rock formations, snow sheets, and the unsuspecting marmot.

Huddled around the fire that night, there was time to introspectively reflect, and then discuss, some of the wild and unforgettable experiences we have had on our journey. Sometimes the dreariest of days bring people closer than a better day ever could.

That’s not to say that the beautiful days are not important also, as we awoke the following morning to blue skies and that feeling of crisp mountain air. The momentum of the previous days’ adventures carried over as we took the afternoon to climb Comet Falls, a majestic waterfall that cascades into pools with glacier ice lining the rocky banks.

These waterfalls, while beautiful, are partially an unfortunate result of glacial runoff. Rainier’s glaciers have been depreciating at an accelerating rate. In some cases, the sheets are less than 20% of their area just 150 years ago.

Glad to see the glaciers before they receded to nothing and reminded once again of the importance of our mission, we were off to the Rainy City. 

Meeting the people behind the Media is an interesting experience, but when “the media” is a news and humor site that I’ve come to rely on for all things green, its a particularly exciting opportunity.

When several of us Bussers walked into the Grist office on the 8th floor of a downtown Seattle office building, we were greeted with a chipper “You must be the bus!” (the receptionist then pointed a few needy bussers to the “let it mellow” stalls in the bathroom). We were then greeted by Lisa Hymas, Senior Editor at Grist Magazine. We got a brief tour of the office, and met the staff. It was fun to put a face (in fact, a whole person!) to the blogs and articles I’d read online.

We grilled Lisa on what its like to be one of the most informed environmentalists in the world, and I think I speak for the bus in saying that we’re very impressed. She told us about Grist from the very beginning (they’ll be 10 years old next year), what its like to interview the most influential people, and how Climate Change in mainstream media has brought more awareness to other environmental issues.

Lisa brought up another topic that we had heard earlier in the summer. “Greenwashing” is the term used when corporations do something environmentally friendly and brag (sometimes more than they deserve) about what they’ve done to become an “eco-friendly” company. Earlier this summer it was pointed out to us that when a company claims some Green-cred, its customers then hold it to that standard. So even if a company is “greenwashing” itself, its is doing something and should be rewarded. Lisa added to that thought, saying that when major corporations (ie WalMart) put in place an earth-friendly company standard, it effects a massive number of their suppliers and therefore a huge number of producers that otherwise might not behave themselves.

We left on a hopeful note. It was nice to hear from the people who know best that either McCain’s or Obama’s environmental plans will be an improvement over the current administration.

Also, if you’ve made it this far and still don’t know what Grist is, they’re arguably the formost environmental news site in the country and super-super cool. Check them out at Grist.org.

Alice

So what better place to take that vacation than Manzanita, OR. The day we were there a few of us decided to forgo sleeping in and went to try surfing….

When we first got down to the beach, it seemed like surfing lost a little of its glamour as the sport moved north in search of more waves. The kids on the beach wrestling into their wetsuits were a far cry from the iconic boardshort-clad bronzed beauties that surfing is famous for. But as they moved from their perches on the fallen logs marking the edge of the beach and the beginning of the forest, the beauty in surfing was again evident. But once you replace stylish boardshorts with a sleek black wetsuit, the really good surfers stand out.

I should note here that a) I am not naturally a water-sport person, and b) any beauty of surfing I mention does not apply to me. Where I grew up, not even a wet suit can save you from the eventual onset of hypothermia, and sandy beaches are something only found at a few lakeside town parks. There are a few crazy people who try to surf in Alaska- but its not advisable and probably a good way to mess yourself up. Before this summer I had never water skied, jet skied, or surfed. As far as part b, I was wearing an old purple wetsuit that was just slightly too large. I’m not complaining, it meant I didn’t have to rent one, but I was certainly not the sexiest kid on the beach.

That said, surfing is really fun. Thank you to Dellanne and David for the surfing lessons. I managed to get up after several tries, but I bet it would have been hilarious to watch. I feel like I spent a fair amount of time with limbs flailing through the air on my way into the water. Maybe even a substantial amount of time. I should also note that surf boards are considerably wider than I am, and therefore I felt like a more awkward version of a penguin trying to paddle my way back out to the waves. (then I realized the water was about 4′ deep between waves. I felt pretty brilliant then). But you know, I once aspired to be a penguin, so I’m cool with floundering around.

Edit: Also, Kevin, Nate and Ro are much better surfers that I am. Just sayin’.

Chief Non-Sequitor here with a newly acquired batch of life lessons…

#1

Lesson Learned: Next time you ask for an iced beverage at a coffee shop, ask them to let up on the ice. We have traversed America making myriad stops at coffee stops around the country and, at every one, I have watched Alice get up from her computer, walk up to the counter, and politely order an iced chai. Yesterday, I decided to follow her lead and was thoroughly disappointed by the ratio of Oregon Chai to ice cubes. I complained to Alice, who promptly informed me of my naïvete—“Yeah, you have to ask them to put in less ice,” she said. A valuable lesson learned for the next café along the way.

#2

Lesson Learned: When they say “you don’t want to know,” you really probably don’t want to know. As the eldest child in a family of three girls, I never quite ran into that problem as a kid. Now that I have 8 brother-like figures, I’m learning more than I’ve ever wanted to know. So, after several bad encounters with jokes that too often result in me squirming, I have come to understand that they’re often just protecting me…or maybe just my ears.

#3

Lesson Learned: You know you’ve lost your audience when their eyes start wandering and they begin nodding more than usual. In other words, most questioning passerbys will stop listening if you go into too much detail regarding the complexities of the bus. Short sound bites are best and simplicity is key. Take this from the kid who is continually learning about the science behind the bus. Maybe it’s just because I started with little environmental experience, but I feel a sense of duty to get every person we meet to understand the basics of America’s relationship with energy. Everyone has the ability to understand this stuff—every person as the right to know what kind of engine they have, why gas prices are rising, and what they can do to help both the environment and their wallet. Yet, so many people quickly shut off when they hear environmental jargon. So, I’ve decided the best approach is talking to their kids; the adults don’t feel childish listening in and understanding our message in the most basic terms and they can ask questions to clarify more complicated matters. And, if they don’t have kids, still use a middle school vocabulary. That way, they’ll remember what you’ve said and are more likely to spread the word later.

Cheerio (for now),

Addie G