Monday, March 18, 2019

Check My Calculations: Converting to Hybrid or Electric-Only Definitely Decreases Carbon

Assuming CO2 is the pollutant that we're trying to minimize by switching to less fossil fuel-reliant transportation, we can fairly easily calculate whether switching to an electric vehicle will make your carbon footprint better. It's often pointed out to people considering switching to hybrid or electric vehicles that if your electricity is very "dirty" (ie dependent on fossil fuels), you might actually be making it worse. But we have to know the actual amounts of carbon produced by each.


A 2017 Tesla Model S 100D goes 335 miles on 100 kilowatt-hours (= 0.1 Megawatt-hours.)

According to EPA's power profiler tool, generation of my power (CAMX zone in California) produces 527.9 pounds of CO2 per Megawatt-hour, just over half the national average.

So to go 335 miles, you use 0.1 Megawatt-hour x 527.9 pounds CO2/Megawatt-hour, which is 52.8 pounds.

Burning a gallon of gasoline produces 20 pounds of CO2.

Assuming a gas car would get 25 mpg, going 335 miles would use 13.4 gallons.

13.4 gallons x 20 pounds CO2/gallon = 268 pounds of CO2 = five times more than the Tesla.

So even if your power is only as clean as the national average, and your car is getting 50 mpg, you still do more harm with a gas car. Or even if you get an electric or hybrid with mileage not as good as Tesla; every single one of these values has to change a lot before it makes a difference to the final answer.

The same argument applies to hybrids. As long as electricity is any better than gasoline, the more gas you convert to electricity, the better. If these calculations are incorrect please point out what I'm doing wrong.

The bottom line is that the next time you hear "well your electricity is polluting too so getting a hybrid or electric doesn't help", tell them about this.

(You may not want to hear it, but converting more energy to not just solar and wind, but to nuclear, is the best bet.)

Sunday, March 17, 2019

Feather Falls

I finally got to this gem, the highest in Northern California at 420 feet and the sixth highest in the US. It was well-subscribed considering it's so out of the way, but I guess I shouldn't have been so surprised as it was a warm sunny day, and after a wet winter it finally feels like California around here again.

I keep thinking I've seen every corner of California (I mentioned this after my Channel Islands trip) and then again I get somewhere I've never been, have never heard the names of the towns or the numbers of the highways. Feather Falls is at the southwestern corner of Plumas National Forest on a tributary of the similarly named Feather River. Plumas NF is interesting because it's at the northern end of the Sierras, and it's here that the Sierra ecosystem transitions to the Cascades. Below, you'll see why the Frey Creek crossing is well-known as a ladybug gathering site, quite common at smallish stream valleys in the Sierras. At the end you can make out flakes of pyrite in the mud.

Monday, February 25, 2019

Ultra-Run for Slain Office Natalie Corona Scholarship Fund

For once, a running project that I won't be picking on - for tragic reasons. Colin Schmitt will be running 224 miles around Davis to benefit the scholar fund in honor of the late Davis PD officer, recently fallen in the line of duty. Article here; GoFundMe page is here.

Sunday, February 17, 2019

Unsettled Winter Day at Confluence Area, Auburn, Sierra Foothills

Below: the various shades of the American River at the Confluence Area on a winter weekend, filled with silt and rockmilk. Most of the color variation is from light rather than water content. One of the samples is from a holly berry (and to the expert, it will be obvious.) Average colors of California and of forest around the world can be seen here.

Every year I say "I'm glad we're getting all this rain because we need it" and also I say "I'm really sick of this rain." Today was no exception, as I uttered both during my quickly aborted attempt to get a run in at Auburn. (But it made for some great photos.) For those curious: it was actively raining on 2/17, the trails around Auburn were quite muddy (except maybe on the way from No Hands to Calcutta Falls) and of course No Hands itself had a lake in the middle. But there were a lot of falls and creeks going that are normally just gullies. In this first image you can see the mud slide in the parking area across the road from the lower gate.

Suffice it to say, a much different mood than the warm sunny day in October a bit downriver documented at this link Here is the confluence area in multiple seasons.

True black and white vs grayscale, take your pick. If you like, pretend the one above is from an indie album from the 90s or a scary movie poster. Of possible interest: Rohrschach tests don't have a ton of evidence behind them, but for what it's worth, people with psychosis or learnings there-toward often perceive color in the black-and-white images. When I look at the grayscale version of the photo, I have a strong suggestion of color and have to remind my eyes it's black-and-white.

Friday, February 15, 2019

Forest Cover in the US by State

Above: from Reddit user some_dawid_guy on r/MapPorn, and below from Google Maps to compare by naked eye. I was most surprised by the relative lowness of WA and OR (lower than Pennsylvania, but on reflection not as surprising due to high coastal mountains and strong seasonal rainfall patterns producing inland dry areas), and how high the Gulf Coast is. Difficult to log or intensively farm due to swamps?

Monday, February 11, 2019

What We Have Lost

Wish I could credit the creator because this is so moving, but you can find it on Reddit.

Sunday, February 10, 2019

Los Vaqueros Watershed On a Stormy Day

I was disappointed to get into the preserve pretty late, but this was kind of cancelled out by the 60+ mph winds at the tops of the ridges (by the ranger's estimate.) The reservoir had whitecaps in it. The only trail I've done worse than this was Tongariro Crossing in New Zealand, and that was during an Antarctic storm when the ranger told me "This is a stupid idea." Plus, that East Bay clay is nasty (slippery and clingy) when it's wet, and makes going up and down the steep trails more like skiing than I would've liked. The drive there was kind of cool, since you're in the central valley but then will cross a small drawbridge next to a marina and realize that all these rivers and sloughs and lakes are contiguous with the Bay (you don't expect to see a marina somewhere like Stockton, but in fact there's a US Navy base there.) Los Vaqueros is interesting partly because it's right at the eastern edge of the hills and an ecosystem boundary runs through it, transitioning from scrub oak to Central Valley prairie on the eastern side. In the last few pictures there's some very clear cattle terracing going on. Always interesting that they can draw contour lines in reality rather than just on a map. Obscure joke of the day - chalk up one for instrumental over epistemic rationality!

Above and below: cows are standing roughly inside the red circle. See? They've drawn higher-resolution contour lines on the actual Earth than Caltopo did on the map. Outstanding!

Friday, February 1, 2019

Running the Schuylkill River Part III: The Lower Schuylkill River Trail, Plus Other Southeast Pennsylvania Awesomeness

When last we left our illustrious hero, I had reached the Schuylkill County line up at Port Clinton, thus completing old Berks County.

Tl;dr I've now reached a point 25 miles from the mouth of the Schuylkill and I took some pictures and ate a lot of Italian food, but I forgot how much January in PA can suck. As always, thanks to the volunteers, local political leaders, organizations and voters who created and support the Schuylkill River Trail.

The Lower Schuylkill River Trail

On this visit I was planning to follow the Schuylkill River Trail (and surface streets where necessary) all the way to the mouth of the river by the old naval shipyards, but weather and family got in the way. That is: most days I was helping older family members with financial things, and I don't want my wife and kid stuck in the hotel while I play this stupid game, and a rideshare back and forth to the Philly suburbs is expensive. Also, twice the windchill went below zero and I'm not running in that nonsense. During my most recent visit, I got to the Schuylkill County line up at Port Clinton. Two visits ago I reached the border between the "upper" and "lower" Schuylkill River at the Berks-Montgomery County line. At the time I actually found this terminology offensive. "Upper" implies the dark interior of the continent, an undeveloped, backward, godless country filled with hostile and superstitious natives. And Dutchmen aren't THAT superstitious anymore.

(I make jokes about the land of my birth, but to regard PA with unalloyed positivity would be exceedingly un-Pennsylvanian. Still, I do love it, and it was actually nice running in the winter at least when it wasn't way too cold, looking at wildlife and seeing areas close to where I grew up that I never knew about. Winter doesn't shut down outdoor activity completely, even in Pennsylvania.)

So this time, I started at the Berks-Montgomery line in Stowe. (Note that I consider Stowe to be the Leesport of Montgomery County.) Very quickly the official trail ends and I ran a good chunk of 724. Not recommended! Do not do this or you risk getting hit and killed (and this sentence will be exhibit A in court.) There was ice on the branches where they touched the river as you'll see below, but no "floes". I noticed a lot more cardinals along the trail than I remember seeing as a kid, not just along the SRT, but everywhere in the area. The next group are from around Pottstown.

Above: looking upriver from the Hanover Street Bridge. Below: looking downriver, with Limerick visible in the distance. It's starting to get pretty metal at this point along the route.

See? As I progressed toward the nuclear plant, it got so metal bro.

Notably, a bridge had collapsed at Dairy Road in Parker Ford and I'd read before my trip that they'd closed the trail there. So, I magically teleported across without trespassing through the closed part! Amazing! Note, I consider Parker Ford to be the Leesport of Chester County. Below that: some very metal-looking industrial structures in the area too. I think the section between Spring City and Phoenixville at the Cromby Trailhead is the most metal section. I feared I'd been transported to Silent Hill, but Centralia is actually near PottsVILLE, not Pottstown.

The SRT is overall well-marked, although the mile markers you can find upriver from Phoenixville (like the one above) disappeared below Phoenixville.

Real mature guys.

The next few are from Phoenixville, which has become the local hipster paradise (must be delayed effect from exposure to the Blob.) Phoenixville does have a remnant of the old canal, partly frozen on this day, and the last working lock. The river was very high and fast with lots of debris after all the rain the day before. French Creek near its mouth on the Schuylkill is actually quite a steep-banked little tributary, almost like a small canyon. Might have to kayak that some time! If you look closely, along the canal you can see one fellow sitting and waiting, who by the looks of him has been waiting a long time.

The area around the mouth of the lower Perkiomen Creek it turns out is also really pretty; years ago I often drove through upper Montco from Reading to Lansdale and found that area (e.g., around Schwenksville) dark and depressing, which is why this surprises me (note: also drove through Schwenksville on this trip. Not as bad as I remember. Did that have to do with my own frame of mind at the time? Nah, couldn't be.)

Old painted mile markers around Valley Forge (if that's what they are) seem to use the distance to the very mouth of the river at the shipyards, and therefore don't match the mile markers above Phoenixville. Also, as it warmed up this day I repeatedly heard ice cracking around me and decided to help it along like the eight-year-old I am.

I saw some wildlife I wasn't expecting including the poor squished fellow you see here, who probably wasn't moving fast enough in the frigid temperatures to avoid bicycle tires. I keep seeing stands of bamboo along the trail as well (like the one below), as far north as Berks, all the more conspicuous for remaining green in winter. Prediction: in 100 years bamboo will be a major invasive up and down the East Coast. (It's not a secret. Articles about invasive bamboo in Philly in 2014 and 2016 here and here.) Twelve years ago I saw a patch of it, ironically, on the battlefield at Yorktown, Virginia.

On the way back we hit Sly Fox Brewing (the one by the airport in Pottstown, though they're adding locations.) Not only are they a SRT sponsor, they have awesomely named beers, like the HAL 9000 Hoppy American Lager - "I'm sorry Dave, I'm afraid I can't brew that." Also, great article here at about the booming PA microbrew scene. Frankly, San Diego has been a little stale and full of itself for a year or two now (YEAH I SAID IT.) No really.

Other Berks County Adventures

I also got around Berks while I was there, and finally got to a few places that I'd wanted to visit. But first, food recommendations: of course I got back to Oakbrook Brewing, maybe my new favorite brewery, that I made it to at my last visit. Two new restaurants I made it to and highly recommend were Anthony's Trattoria in Pennside (used to be Spazio's) and Say Cheese, a brunch place on Penn Ave. in West Reading - delicious, but watch out for check creep! I wanted to meet some friends at Schaylor Brewing on 222 south of Shillington but the snowstorm took care of that.

Above: Leesport. I consider Leesport to be the Leesport of Berks County. Next two below: the Conrad Weiser house. His remembrance:significance ratio has to be about the worst of any figure in early American history. Read about him. (It doesn't help that Franklin unfairly ignored Weiser's contribution in his account of the French and Indian War in his famous autobiography.)

Above: Pennsylvania winter sunrise. Below: my mom remembered this hole-in-the-wall soft pretzel place that was in Reading on Laurel between 6th and 7th, near the old Joe's Restaurant. It's on maps and there's a sign there, but it just looked like someone's house. (Added later: they've closed after 74 years. My timing sucks.) Disappointed, you can see I then went to get beer at a Weis Cafe just after 8 a.m. Thank you Weis - you have proven PA is no longer under shariah law with respect to alcohol (since you can get a beer at 9am in Morocco, which actually is a Muslim country - see end of the post here.)

One night I went up to Mt. Penn and from Skyline Drive got some nice shots of a clear winter sunset over the city, and of course the Pagoda. The sunset was fantastic, not unlike a California sunset, likely because, as in California for most of the year, there was little moisture in the air. Of course nothing pleasant in Pennsylvania ever comes without a price, and this low absolute humidity only happens when it's five degrees Fahrenheit, which was the case when I took these pictures.

Above, you can just make out five distant contrails of planes heading southeast.

Not sure if it counts as alpenglow if it's on trees.

Above, the white-out squall as seen from Flying Hills. I saw two bald eagles over Flying Hills on this same day - another sign of comeback (I even forgot that I saw one in northern Berks back in May!) This squall is the one that caused the 27-car pile-up on 222. Below, after the polar vortex had passed over, the winter sunset with the Philly skyline. Below that, the remains of my squid-ink pasta at Ristorante Pesto on Broad Street in South Philly, which you're only hurting yourself if you don't go there. In fact it was so good that I showed my compassion by not eating a particularly obstinate clam (and I show mercy toward mollusks, bivalves or otherwise, only rarely - lest you doubt my mollusk-torture credibility, please see the end of this post, or partway down in this one.)