To everyone who followed us and helped us along the way, we send love and thanks. Dave and Brian, out.

As night fell we rolled into the historic town of Berlin, Pennsylvania in search of a charge. About the only thing open was a little place called the House of Miracles, an unlikely amalgam of coffee shop, religious book store and historical site. We plugged the bikes into an exterior outlet and ventured inside, where our senses were immediately assailed by colonial architecture, gregorian chant, and fresh espresso. The door was guarded by a life-sized Roman soldier, but the interior was welcoming, as was the owner, Roger Clarke. Over the next few hours we came to learn that the building we were in was actually the home of Robert Philson, who incited the Whiskey Rebellion of 1794, and was arrested and later pardoned by George Washington.
Philson went on to become a US Congressman, and served as a General in the war of 1812. As we sat around the fire, sipping coffee and learning about the history of Berlin, we began feeling a little like conspirators ourselves, sowing the seeds of a rebellion against the powers-that-be in American transportation. We like to think General Philson would approve.

A person’s mental outlook is directly attributable to the state of their feet. Just look at the Grinch. Shoes two sizes too small turned a benevolent dog-loving homebody into a psychotic sled-driving misanthrope, and were in fact the impetus for his devastating unilateral attack on Whoville. To avoid precisely this kind of podiatric disaster, Brian and I have gone to great lengths to keep our feet happy, swapping from sneakers to boots in the cold, and even resorting to gortex boot covers in the rain. But approaching the small town of Mt. Pleasant, Pennsylvania, we were running dangerously low on clean socks, so when we saw the sign for Tonya’s Laundry Corner, we quickly turned off. Owner Tonya Booher let us pull the bikes inside and plug them in next to a row of washing machines, which we immediately filled with socks and various other articles of clothing. And as we filled the machines with quarters we soon realized, our bikes were gonna get us all the way to DC for less than it cost to do two loads of laundry.

If you’ve been following the GPS function, you’re probably aware that our
bikes are at a dead stop, right at the Aurora, Ohio police station. We
haven’t been taken into custody, and the bikes are not in impound. After
stopping to charge in Aurora we discovered that one of the bikes needed a
new motor controller, a small part that we can easily swap out (if we had
one.) Aaron had one Fed Ex’d from Ashland, and it’ll be here tomorrow
morning. The cool thing is, if you’re a consumer and you ever have a
problem with a BRAMMO, Best Buy has Geek-Squad-style van support, and
they’ll come to wherever you are (including the side of the highway) and get
you up and running again. PS–THANK YOU to the Aurora police department for
letting us charge/keep the bikes at their station over night.

NOTE: The official turn-around for THIS video was 3 days. Surely this can be
improved upon. Mike?

Video of cop escorting When a CPD motorcycle cop pulled up and suspiciously
eyed the bikes, we were half expecting to be taken into custody. After an
awkward moment, I said “You’re looking at these like, ‘What the hell are
those things,” to which he replied, “What the hell are those things.” He
turned out to be a super-friendly and funny guy, and he had all kinds of
questions about the bike. Once his curiosity was satisfied, he offered Brian
a short clinic in police formation riding. The two of them did their best
Ponch and John imitation up and down the street, and based on Brian’s
performance we’re fairly certain he is now authorized to issue citations.

It’s not the cold or the rain or the long miles that get you. It’s the inescapable fact that a helmet has turned your hair into a sickly, matted rat’s nest.

The bikes charged overnight in a gallery space at the Cleveland Institute of Art, and when we picked them up in the morning they looked pretty cool against the wood floor and clean white wall space. Even better, the faculty let us ride them through the halls on our way out, and it was fun to see students and professors poking their heads out of classrooms and offices with quizzical smiles on their faces. It’s an experience only possible on an electric motorcycle. Imagine if we had been on conventional bikes? People would have climbed under their desks. But EVs are interwoven with whatever landscape they negotiate. They’re quiet and inviting and part of what’s going on rather than being at odds with the world. Once we got outside, Douglas Paige showed up on his own motorcycle and led us on a quick ride through downtown.

Since we only plugged in at the German lady’s house for a short time, I ran
out of juice right before we reached our intended destination–the
prestigious Cleveland Institute of Art, a well known cradle for some of the
nation’s most talented automotive designers. Casually placing the students’
education before my survival, Brian rode ahead, regaling the students with
anecdotes from the trip and insights about the bike while I (as far as he
knew) died a slow horrible death in the streets. Luckily, nothing
whatsoever happened to me. I was able to access a plug at a gas station near
campus, and showed up just as he finished his presentation. The students
were abuzz about the BRAMMOs, and their enthusiasm was contagious. It was
clear that many of them hoped to end up with a job like Brian’s–designing
something fun, sustainable and game-changing. Before we left, faculty
members generously offered to let us charge the bikes overnight in one of of
the school’s design studios, and we gratefully accepted.

On a street corner in the suburbs outside Cleveland we found ourselves down
to 1-percent of battery capacity. So we had no choice but to knock on the
door of the first house we came to, and opportunity answered in the form of
a sweet-yet-terrified octogenarian with a crazy Kaiser Wilhelm accent and
her hair done up in corncob-sized rollers. No doubt the translucent plastic
half-dome hairdryer she was sitting under before we got there draws more
current than our bikes. Anyway, after Brian charmed her (which I found
subtly disturbing enough that I’m still shaken) she let us plug into an
outlet on the side of her house long enough to get us downtown.

Throughout the journey people have been sending us all kinds of helpful
information. But we received a troubling bit of information last night.
According to Article 1, Section 9 of the US Constitution, the president
can’t accept gifts. Gifts like a BRAMMO Enertia. Anyone have any ideas how
to get around this? We can’t let a pesky little piece of legislation like
the United States Constitution stand in our way. Or, as Brian says, “Where
there’s a law, there’s a loophole.” Any insight from practicing lawyers (or
practicing criminals) would be greatly appreciated.

Throughout the cold wet trip we’ve relied heavily on little hand-warming packets placed inside our gloves. And there’s absolutely no danger of us running out of them, as several folks following the blog tracked our gps coordinates and sent us the addresses of retail stores along the route that stock the warmers. We feel the love. Literally.

When we got to Sandusky, a town of roughly 24,000 people, we were invited
into the home of Mark Norman. We were told his home was styrofoam, so we
rode around looking for something that looked like an igloo. But as it
turns out, Mark’s home looks like any other, until you get the grand tour.
The entire thing is insulated with styrofoam, and decked out with the latest
electronically controlled heating and cooling gadgetry. We’re not talking
about programmable thermostats from Home Depot. Mark’s “control room” is a
maze of copper plumbing and computer hardware unlike anything we’d ever
seen–sort of a cross between The Nautilus and The Enterprise. And Mark
himself is an equally unusual combination. He blends old school hospitality
and warmth with keen tech-savvy intelligence. And he makes a mean banana
pancake, as both Brian and I can attest. Thanks for the breakfast, Mark,
and for the inspiration. Our homes can get better, just like our vehicles.
Oh yeah, and thanks for the juice (OJ and wattage).

The ABC affiliate in Toledo, WTVG, sent a news crew out to meet us and see the bikes. They learned about our mission, and Brian was kind enough to do some speed runs in the rain for their cameras. But the pivotal part of the interview took place when I pointed out how luxurious Brian’s hair was. I was counting on this comment putting him on his heels, but instead, he deftly launched an on-camera counter-attack, pointing out that his hair was “better than what you have going on.” Point, Brian.

At Energy Saver Advisors in Toledo, Ohio, the two are separated by nothing more than a pane of “low-e” glass. After letting us use the outlets in the lobby, Energy Saver Vice President Matt Simon treated us to lunch in what is easily the coolest office any of us had ever seen. The Energy Saver office not only overlooks, but is physically connected to the Toledo Mud Hens (Detroit Tiger’s farm club) award-winning baseball stadium. No game was in progress, but Matt dropped some knowledge on us about how we could be more energy efficient in our homes, and enlightened us to the entire Toledo energy scene. That’s right, I said “Toledo energy scene.” Hard to believe, but this town, once known at the auto glass capitol of earth, has transitioned beautifully to the new green economy, and is now a leader in the development of solar power. Great town with great people, and a hotbed of grassroots innovation.

Who has something to gain if this trip is a success? Pretty much everyone on earth, except oil companies. Who has something to lose? Oil companies.

So naturally, when we were hit by rain shortly after crossing the Ohio state line, we knew it was the result of a carefully orchestrated cloud-seeding effort on the part of big oil. We’re not sure which companies were involved, and we have absolutely no evidence, other than our rain-soaked clothing, but it’s painfully obvious that oil companies triggered the deluge. Anyway, we stopped in Sylvania, OH and plugged in at Chandler Café, where we had coffee and donned rain gear. It’s gonna take more than a little artificially generated rain to stop this train. ONWARD. TO WASHINGTON.

When we emerged from Adrian City Hall there was a throng of people surrounding the bikes, including a bunch of construction workers, including one guy, John Lueder, who’s hardhat was covered with motorcycle stickers.
Choppers Inc, Wiseco Pistons, etc, etc. The kind of guy who wouldn’t be caught dead on an EV. Well one thing leads to another, and Brian hands him the keys to the Enertia. Then he was gone. For an uncomfortably long time.
And when he finally came whizzing by, he yells out, “I’m not bringing it back.” Eventually he did, with an ear-to-ear grin and a new outlook on the power of electricity.

First stop of the day was Adrian, Michigan. We met the mayor, Gary McDowell, who suggested we contact two Senators and a Congressman. We probed him to find out if any of the three were particularly susceptible to bribes, to which the Mayor replied “I’m not going near that with a 40-foot pole.” I think collectively we have like 84 dollars, but you never know, maybe one of the Senators is in a bind. Anyway, the mayor was very cool and hooked us up with custom embroidered “good luck” blankets to keep us warm between rides.

While filling up on some breakfast we saw these. Funny to think that
our entire trip to see obama will cost us about the price of four apples,
and zero carbon emissions.

This is BRAMMO Lead Engineer Aaron Bland, with an Enertia powercycle
plugged into the wall outlet next to his bed. We’re not saying there was any
sort of inappropriate “interaction” between the two, but the bike would not
talk the next day. It didn’t say one word. Weird.

We have no budget. But that didn’t stop us from incorporating special
effects. Set up a still camera for long exposure, walk around the bike with
lights, and you’ve got this. Sort of looks like the scene in Indiana Jones
when they open the Ark. Only instead of crazy illuminated demons coming out,
these are rays of hope.

OK, so the goggles are all Sopwith Camel’d out. But we’re crossing
an ocean of doubt, so they kinda work. Or not.

Just dropped by autobloggreen and hung out with author/editor Sam
Abualsamid. Cool guy and seemed to dig the mission. Brian took him through
some tech stuff, then did a few speed runs down the street for the camera.
Brian and Sam were definitely vibing on the nerd stuff. I didn’t understand
half of what they said, but I assure you it was poignant if you went to MIT,
or U of M for that matter. Afterwards Sam let us plug into an outlet in his
garage so we could top off for the upcoming leg to Adrian, MI. Getting ready
to set out now. More coming.

While we were recharging at Zingerman’s, Jim Cousens stopped by–guy
who at one time owned the largest collection of vintage electric vehicles in
the world. Eye-opening conversation. EVs were prevalent around the turn of
the century, but disappeared when no infrastructure of plugs arose to
support them. With environmental issues making EVs the only viable
alternative for the future of transportation, why is the infrastructure not
being built to support them now? You don’t have to be a master logician to
figure out who stands to benefit if fossil fuel remains the norm. Portraying
big oil as nebulous/villainous/extortionist has always seemed like fodder
for whacked-out conspiracy theorists. Unfortunately, it’s hard to argue
with. Anyway, cool to see that EVs have so much heritage.

A plug for a plug. Zingerman’s was our first charging spot and will
always own a special place in our minds and in this journey. Is it just
us or does Zingerman’s look like a place that has been suddenly thrust
into the 21st century with that Brammo powercycle out front. The best of
the old school meets the best of the new school. Thanks again. Where to
next?

Brian and Dave

Today we began our journey to Washington DC from the exact same place
the Big 3 CEOs started theirs–the private jet terminal at Detroit’s Wayne
County Airport. At first they said it was OK to shoot in the terminal, but
as soon as they found out what we were about they shut us down. Brian
suspects it might be because we weren’t properly attired, or because we
don’t play squash or have ski cottages in Aspen. So anyway, we found the
next best thing. An abandoned gas station nearby. No wonder these guys went
out of business. Not a single electric charging station. Sheesh.

Now we’re on to Ann Arbor. While there, we’re hoping to meet up with the guy
who has the largest collection of vintage Electric Vehicles in the world. To
Brian’s chagrin, turns out this whole EV idea is nothing new. By the way,
Brian says hi. More later.

We started the day with a quick interview with Fox news in Detroit. We’re not sure when it’s going to be on but we will post a link to their website as soon as we have it. It’s pretty exciting to see the level of interest and support so far.