North Coast Journal May 24, 2007 : IN THE NEWS : SHORT STORIES

May 24, 2007

Kinetic konfusion | Night vision

Kinetic konfusion

Here she is, 2007's Rutabaga Queen! All hail Emma Breacain, aka Emma the Emchantress, crowned queen of the Kinetic Sculpture Race at a ceremony Friday night! "I'm so excited," her majesty said afterwards. "It's something I take very seriously. I put enough work into my campaign that most people would consider it insane."

Indeed. For most of us, the Kinetic Sculpture Race has been a sometimes interesting and often amusing annual ritual that's descended on Humboldt County for the last 39 years. But for others it goes way, way beyond that. The KSR has a Rocky Horror-like following, and maybe that's why it has maintained for nearly four decades. Certainly the cult appeal of the race is what made it happen this year, after it looked like all else was lost.

It's perhaps possible that there may be one person reading this who has no idea what the Kinetic Sculpture Race is. So just for that person, an instant primer: The Kinetic Sculpture Race is a three-day event in which contestants race human-powered vehicles ("sculptures") from Arcata to Ferndale over land, sand and water. Contestants are judged on the artistic and engineering merit of their sculptures, as well as speed. There are numerous ancillary events, of which the crowning of a "Rutabaga Queen" is one. The whole thing is framed in a kitschy, pun-laden aesthetic. The thing was more or less invented way back when by Ferndale artist Hobart Brown, who is generally described as "an eccentric."

Brown controlled the race for many years after its founding until, a few years ago, a new nonprofit called the Humboldt Kinetic Association took it over. A few months ago, a financial dispute broke out between Brown and the HKA, and it looked like the race wasn't going to happen. Then Ferndale's Ellin Beltz, a Kinetic Sculpture devotee, inherited some money and settled the dispute, returning rights to the race to Brown, who lately has been very ill.

But the race this year is nevertheless being put on by a whole new organization -- "Kinetic Universe," which was founded by three former Rutabaga Queens. Kinetic Universe is taking pains to use none of the intellectual property associated with Brown's organization. The name of the race has been subtly changed to "Kinetic Grand Championship." So why the changes, when the legal disputes over ownership seem to have been settled?

Apparently because they have not been settled -- not quite. Between Brown and the HKA, everything is copacetic. But Brown has another lawsuit pending against his former caregiver. That suit is set be heard on Friday. And though ownership of Kinetic is not at issue, the Kinetic Universe people thought they should play it safe by sidestepping the issue entirely in case the suit were to metastasize.

"Basically, the court day for the lawsuit is the day before the race. And we said, `Oh, we've got to do something or the race is going to die,'" said Arcata Mayor Harmony Groves, the 2006 Rutabaga Queen and a member of Kinetic Universe. Groves added that her organization has been OK'd by Brown: "We've gotten the blessing, and we've been careful to include everyone in the Kinetic Kingdom in this year's race."

The new Rutabaga Queen, for one, is just happy that things are moving forward. "This is such a big year for the race," Emma the Emchantress said. "There was so much fear that it wouldn't happen. So it's really exciting to be a part of it."

Kinetic Universe's Shaye Harty said that the Kinetic Universe people fully expect to re-merge with the Brown organization by next year. Meanwhile, the 39th Annual Kinetic Grand Championship Race kicks off at noon Saturday on the Arcata Plaza.

-- Hank Sims

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dingbat dingbat dingbat

Night vision

Right: Peter Sanzenbacher hoists the radar. Photo by Heidi Walters.

I crept along, trying to keep my skittish white pickup on the narrow road that climbs above Bear River Ridge while peering the few visible feet ahead into a white swirly fog. One missed turn at a rash 15 mph, it seemed, and I'd be floating free, descending through the foggy gray twilight to a crumpled rest in some green-gold hollow ashimmer with the day's last light. The sun had set, and I had a rendezvous somewhere on the top of this ridge with a man in a white van who had promised to any takers at a recent Audubon/Sierra Club gathering that he'd show them his radar beam. And his nightvision goggles. And his three million candlepower spotlight which, if its red filter were accidentally torn off, would melt your eyes.

At last I came upon the white van parked in the white dark. Apparently I was the only taker this night. Peter Sanzenbacher got out of the van saying "Brrr" as the wind slammed into him, and climbed the ladder to the top of the van to crank up the radar beam so its long arm, when activated, would sweep around in horizontal circles. (Later, he would crank up the beam to a vertical position to sweep the heights.) Back on the ground, he opened the side door of the van and we got in. Inside was just one boring gray box -- a Furuno marine radar unit, just like they use on tugboats. "Most people are surprised," Sanzenbacher said. Think surveillance van and you expect a bank of monitors, gadgets and switches.

The radar van belongs to ABR Inc., an environmental research outfit from Oregon whose scientists have been gathering data on birds and bats for Shell WindEnergy. Shell wants to plant up to 35 wind turbines up here to generate electricity. And there are all sorts of issues to sort out, including the effect the proposed 256-foot-tall towers and their 130-foot-long blades might have on migrating airborne critters.

Each year, about a billion birds are killed by human-made structures (including cars) in the U.S., said a report published this May by the National Academy of Sciences. And in 2003, up to 37,000 of those billion collided with wind turbines. As more and more wind farms crop up, the report said, that number could rise exponentially -- making better research and regulation essential.

Most birds, including songbirds, migrate at night -- to stay cool and to avoid the daytime-migrating raptors, said Sanzenbacher. But not many targets passed through the radar beam that Wednesday night. Sanzenbacher said they'd noted that fewer birds fly over when it's foggy. When a series of little dots did show up on the screen, Sanzenbacher held up a little plastic white card with tick marks on it and measured the target's flight speed and direction. If the radar arm were pointed up, he'd measure the target's height above the ground. In this way, he could collect data on how many targets were passing through the turbine zone of potential death.

Before leaving, I asked Sanzenbacher for his take on wind energy. "I'm definitely a promoter of green energy," he said. "But like with anything, there's good places to put them and bad places." It's his job, he said, to collect the data that the developers and regulators will use to decide which kind of place Bear River Ridge might be. "And one fortunate thing about this project," he said, "is you can go to the Shell website and download all of these reports." Not all developers are so transparent, he said.

-- Heidi Walters

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