Post #1859: Why all bathroom fans suck. A corollary to Post #1843

 

Answer:  Because they’re small.  That’s it.  It’s just basic physics.  And there’s nothing that can be done about it.


Background

In Post #1843, I figured out and explained why ceiling fans are vastly more efficient that box fans.  Where efficiency is measured by cubic feet of air moved per minute, per watt of power used (CFM/watt).

The answer turned out to be remarkably simple:  To move the same volume of air, a smaller fan blade has to move that air much faster.  That’s just arithmetic.  (If the area swept by a 20″ box fan blade is one-seventh the area swept by a big ceiling fan, the box fan has to move the air seven times faster, to keep up with the volume moved by the ceiling fan.)

Moving air faster takes much more energy than moving it slowly.  Not due to the energy-wasting turbulence that might create ( though that can be a factor), but merely because it takes more pressure to move air faster, and overcoming that pressure takes more energy.

Roughly speaking, CFM/watt should scale inversely with the size of the fan.  Given identical designs and motors, a box fan that is one-seventh the size of a ceiling fan should take seven times the wattage to move the same amount of air.  Roughly.

That’s all laid out in Post #1843.


And now on to bath fans

Today the penny dropped, and I realized that this same phenomenon explains the poor performance of bathroom vent fans.  Seems like bath fans take forever to clear a bathroom.  And I include all bath fans, almost regardless of make or quality.  Where a box fan stuck in a window could clear the air in a bathroom in a couple of minutes, an in-ceiling bath fan might take half an hour.

At best, a bathroom vent fan might have 6″ blades, feeding a 6″ diameter duct.  (Although 4″ duct for bath fans is far more common).  Since the area of a circle goes as the square of the radius, the area swept by the blades of a 6″ bath fan would be about ( 3-squared / 10-squared = ) 9% of the area swept by the blades of a 20″ box fan.  And so, to move the same volume of air as a box fan, a hypothetical 6″ bath fan would require (1 / .09 =) 11 times the wattage.

Let me now put that to the test, via virtual shopping at Home Depot.

And, sure enough, the median bath fan from Home Depot moves about one-tenth as much air per watt, compared to a box fan.

Bottom line:  A bath fan that could clear a bathroom as fast as a box fan would draw ten times the wattage of the box fan.  If you could squeeze that much air, that fast, through the ducts, you’d need to have a 500-watt bath fan*, in order to clear a bathroom as fast as a box fan sitting in the window.  That, before we even consider whether or not you could move that much air through a small duct without undue losses due to turbulence.  That, before we consider how much noise that would make.

* That’s 2/3rds of a horsepower, more or less.  A big electric motor, in this application.

And so, the apparent poor performance of bathroom fans is not a figment of my imagination.  Bath fans move air quite slowly, compared to (e.g.) common box fans.  It’s not a design flaw, or an intentional choice.  It’s just physics.  The smaller the fan, the more power it takes to move a given amount of air.  And bath fans — typically restricted to 4″ ducts — can only move a tenth of the amount of air that box fans can move, per watt of power.

Post #1858: Indirect solar food dryer, Part 2: Building a roll-up solar air heater.

In a nutshell:  In an afternoon, I made a roll-up solar air heater using plastic sheeting, a pile of green mesh vegetable sacks, some tape, and a fan.  At solar 3PM, that’s now putting out a nice stream of air at just under 130F.  That should be adequate to serve as the hot air source for drying food.

See the just-prior post for the theory.  In particular, why a mesh-filled tube is a pretty good choice for a solar collector.

When I’m done with it, I can just roll the whole thing up and store it in a nice, compact package.

Background

I want to make a solar air heater, to use for drying my garden produce.  Mainly, for making dried tomatoes.  Solar-powered, because otherwise, in the humid climate of Virginia, my only reliable option is to use an ungodly amount of electricity to make those dried tomatoes..

Source: Post G22-010.

At this point, I’ve exhausted all of the simplest solar-drying options.

Even in Virginia, if you get perfect drying weather for four days in a row, you can dry tomatoes using old-fashioned open-air drying (Post G23-056).  The problem is, you can rarely count on a stretch of weather like that, around here, when you need it.

I also tried making a simple power-ventilated direct solar food dryer.  (That is, a clear-topped, ventilated box in which sunlight shines directly onto the food to be dried.)  My conclusion is that direct solar dryers just don’t have enough power to dry tomatoes reliably in my humid climate (Post G23-058, Post G23-057).

My aha! moment came when I realized that direct solar food dryers are simple flat-plate solar air heaters.  The food sits on or above that flat plate.  Simple flat-plate solar collectors are the least efficient way to convert sunlight into heat energy.

So here I am.  My late-season tomatoes are (finally!) ripening, so it’s time to get this done.  I’m upping my game by making an indirect solar food dryer.   This is a dedicated solar air heater, hooked up to a box that contains the food to be dried.  That arrangement allows you to increase the power input, both by increasing the efficiency of the solar energy capture, and increasing the ratio of solar energy capture area to area of food to be dried.


Celebrating the cheap and flimsy design.

Source:  Government of New Zealand.

Funny thing about the word “cheap”.  Once upon a time, it had no negative connotations.  It was used as we might use “inexpensive” today.  Goods were advertised for their exceptional cheapness.  Which, back in (say) Colonial American times, meant low price, not shoddy construction.

My point being that as long as I’m making a cheap and flimsy solar air heater, I might as well celebrate that.  No sense in trying to make a high-quality cheap and flimsy device.  Might as well make it as cheap and flimsy as possible.


Construction overview.

Solar air heater.
  • Make a big plastic tube out of a single sheet of clear plastic.  When flattened, roughly 4′ across by 16’+ feet long.
  • Place a 4′ wide piece of black or reflective plastic inside the tube, to form the inside bottom of the collector.
  • Stuff the tube, between the black/reflective plastic bottom and the clear plastic top, to a few inches depth, with a loose layer of dark, porous material.  I’m using mesh produce sacks, see below for other suggestions.
  • Leave 2′ empty, at either end of the tube, for attaching it to fan and duct.
  • “Quilt” the stuffed portion of the tube.  That is,  stitch through it with twine, or otherwise tack top to bottom, just enough that the top of the tube cannot “balloon” when the fan is turned on.  (The point of this is to force the air through the porous filler, not above it.)
  • OR, simply weigh down the top of the tube, with pieces of wood, to achieve the same end of keeping the top of the tube sitting firmly on the stuffing.
  • Tape the fan to one end, oriented to blow air into the tube.
  • Tape a piece of flexible dryer duct to the other end.

In pictures:

Plastic, about 8′ wide by about 20′ long.

Plastic sheet folded in half to make a long 4′ wide tube, then taped (see tape seam at left), with a 4′ wide piece of radiant barrier inside the tube to serve as the bottom.  I’m not even sure that radiant barrier (or equivalent piece of black plastic) is necessary.  FWIW I used Gorilla (r) duct tape, and that seems to be sticking well to the plastic sheet.

A bunch of mesh vegetable sacks drying in the sun, after being hosed off.  Why do I own these?  Long story.  But because I already owned them, I’m using this as my solar collector material, rather than black screening.

The plastic tube, now stuffed with those mesh sacks, balled up.  Try to pack it loosely, but with no voids that would let air flow around the mesh, rather than through the mesh.  You want to force the air to flow through the mesh so that it will pick up heat from the sun-exposed mesh.

Ready to run.  Fan is clipped into the near end, a piece of flex duct is clipped into the far end, and chunks of wood weigh down the top.  You can see that the top still balloons up a bit, between the pieces of wood, from the force of the fan.

The fan is an ancient twin-bladed window fan.  I’m guessing that with no resistance, it moves 250 CFM on low, and draws maybe 30 watts.  With the resistance imposed by passing through the mesh, I have no idea how many CFM it moves.

Same, side view.

Same, end view.

A nice stream of 129F air, at solar 3 PM, on an 80F day, with no adjustments?  That’ll do.

Total assembly time was around two hours.  And I now have a roll-up solar air heater that is adequate for the task of drying tomatoes.

Food dryer (TBD).

I am greatly simplifying my task by using Nesco food dryer trays.  With the addition of a bit of tape, these can be stacked to form an air-tight cylinder, with the food to be dried neatly laid out within that cylinder.  All I need to do is place that cylinder above an appropriately-sized hole in a cardboard box.  Run the flexible duct from the solar air heater into that box, and that will serve as the food dryer unit.

Note that with this design, the cardboard box itself doesn’t get wet.  All the humid air from the food goes up the stack of trays, and out.

 

Materials/tools list for the solar collector:

  • Pair of scissors.
  • Clear plastic sheet, approximately 8′ x 16′, or longer as desired.
  • Black or reflective plastic sheet, 4′ x 12′, or ditto.
  • Optional:  Additional clear plastic sheet 4′ x 16′, or ditto.
  • Dark, porous material to fill the tube (e.g., plastic screening, see below).
  • Tape (packing tape, duct tape, or whatnot).
  • Twine and something to use as a needle for “sewing” with that twine,
    • OR, double-stick tape.
    • OR four 8′ 2x4s.
  • Window fan or standard 20″ box fan.
    • Cardboard (e.g., 20″x20″ square) for modulating air flow from box fan.
  • Small length of flexible dryer duct.

Materials for the food dryer unit

  • Cardboard box
  • Nesco round drying trays (or substitute what you have).
  • Tape.
  • Cardboard sheet to cover the top of the stack of trays.
  • Instant-read thermometer.

Details

Step 0:  How big?

I’d like this to to produce around 900 watts of heat, on average, over an eight-hour sunny summer day, at 40 degrees north latitude.  Assuming this is 30% efficient at capturing sunlight, then, based on my prior calculations, this should capture an average of 18 watts per square foot.  So I’m shooting for about 50 square feet of collector.

I have no intuition as to the right shape.  I’m guessing that depends on a lot of factors.  The material I’m starting from is almost 20′ wide, so I’m tentatively planning on a tube about 4′ wide and 20′ long.  That’s a bit larger than necessary, but it matches what I have on hand.  Of that 20′, a couple of feet on either end will be used to connect to fan and duct, and so will not contribute much, if anything, to solar energy collection.

I’m guessing that one 8′ x 16′ piece of clear plastic sheet should be adequate to form the tube.  I’ll need a further 4′ x 16′ piece of black or reflective plastic to line the bottom of the tube.  And, optionally, one more piece of clear plastic, 4′ x 16′, to add to the top for “double glazing” of the finished, quilted tube.

Step 1:  Obtain a large amount of dark, porous, lightweight material.

In my case, that’s a box of mesh produce sacks that I’ve had on hand for years.  (These were part of a failed attempt to simplify the handling of my firewood.)

Plastic window screening should work fine, but is an expensive solution if you are using new materials, due to the amount of material required.

Or, you might try doing this with no filler.  Just blow air down a hollow clear-topped tube.  That should make this much less efficient at capturing sunlight.  So make the tube bigger than you would otherwise.

Beyond that, if you use something that isn’t compressible, you lose the ability to roll this up when you are done with it.  If you don’t value that, you could consider:

  • Styrofoam packing peanuts, painted black.
  • Coarse, dark, shredded wood mulch.
  • Possibly, lava rock.
Step 2:  Make a large plastic tube with a clear top and a black or reflective bottom.

This couldn’t be easier.  Get some clear plastic sheeting, e.g., the stuff they sell as dropcloths at the hardware store.  (In my case, I’m using greenhouse plastic, which is more UV-resistant than garden-variety hardware-store plastic sheeting.clear-topped plastic tube.)  Fold it in half, and tape the edges together.

I’m going for a reflective bottom because I own a roll of house-construction radiant barrier material.  The idea is that any light penetrating the layer of loose fill will get reflected back up into that loose fill.  And, where the fill is at least a half-inch away from the radiant barrier, the barrier will act as insulation against radiation heat loss through the back of the tube.

Step 3:  Stuff the tube — but NOT the last 2′ on either end — with a few inches’ thickness of dark, porous material.

For me, this was as simple as temporarily closing off one end of the tube, scrunching up the mesh sacks, chucking them inside, and using a stick to arrange them into a single, packed mass.

This isn’t precision work.  The air is going to flow through all 16′ of the tube.  As long as there’s no continuous channel through which the air can flow from end to end and bypass your porous material, you should be fine.

Step 4:  Keep the top of the tube from ballooning up.

You want air to pass through the porous filling, not above it.  So you want to keep the plastic top sheet right down on top of the filling, in some fashion.

I was originally going to “sew” or tape the top and bottom together in places, to do this.  But on reflection, the easiest thing to do is weight the top down, while obstructing as little light as possible.

I’m just going to toss some 2×4’s onto the top of the sheet, and, if necessary, weigh them down with (e.g.) bricks.

Optionally, add a second layer of “glazing” by tossing another clear plastic sheet on top of this.  That will trap insulating air where the top of the tube is depressed by the quilting or the 2x4s.  I’m guessing this isn’t worth it, but I make try adding it and taking it off to see what happens to the resulting air temperature.

Step 5:  Attach fan and duct.

Attach a window fan or 20″ box fan to one end, and a short length of flexible dryer vent to the other.

I want to be able to take this apart at the end of the season, to store it, so I’m doing these attachments with lengths of bungee cord.  You could just as easily make the attachments with tape, and peel back the tape at the end of the season.

Step 6:  Make and attach air distributor for food drying (TBD).

Because I’m using round Nesco trays, my air distributor will just be a box, somewhat larger than the trays, with holes for the dryer duct and the trays.  Run the dryer duct into the box.  Place a piece of cardboard on top of the uppermost tray, to make sure the hot air hits all the food as evenly as possible.  That’s it.

Step 7:  Operation.

Place the tube on the ground, in the sun.  Place weighs on top of the flat solar-collector tube, to keep the top from ballooning up.  Attach duct, fan, and (eventually) food drying box.  Turn on the fan.


Summary

It works.  And it’ll roll up at the end of the season.  So that’s a success.

This could use a bit of tweaking.

I probably used way more mesh “stuffing” than I really needed.  I can’t even see the reflective bottom of the solar air heater, through the green mesh bags stuffed inside.

I’m sure this would get hotter if I could tilt it so that it was perpendicular to the sun’s rays.  As one would do with a solar panel.

But … it works well enough as-is.  So I don’t see any need to modify it.  I can unroll it in the sun, attach small fan and duct, and produce a nice stream of hot air as long as the sun shines.  That’s really all I need it to do.

Arguably the most mickey-mouse aspect of this right now is the weights for the top.  Without those, the plastic sheeting simply balloons up, and the air passes over the mesh, not through the mesh.  Tossing some sticks on top makes it work, for now, but I’d like to get a more elegant solution at some point.

I’m now going to roll this up and put it away until my final crop of late-season tomatoes starts ripening in earnest.  Then I’m going to use this for a last batch or two of dried tomatoes.  Weather permitting.

Addendum:  Oh for duh!

Turn the fan around and stick it in the other end of the tube.

After I put this together, I went looking for a better fan.  Window fans of the sort I’m using really shouldn’t be used to push against considerable resistance. 

That’s when I realized that if I sucked air out of the tube, instead of blowing air into the tube, the entire problem of having the surface of the tube balloon up simply goes away.  All the wood and metal pieces on top of the solar air heater are unnecessary.  And I end up with a simpler and more elegant design.  If such a word can be applied to this cheap and flimsy roll-up solar air heater..

Post #1855: An example of why you should do Swedish death cleaning as you age.

 

My recent foray into furniture repair has turned into a lesson on why you should do you own Swedish death cleaning as you age.

To recap, this is what is left of a pair of chairs that got tossed to the curb, across the street from me, here in the middle-class suburbs of DC.  They were in great shape when I picked them off the curb, but years of use by my kids took their toll on the half-century-old fabric and foam.

These were discarded, in excellent condition, alongside heaps of other household goods, by the children of an elderly, recently-widowed woman.  Her kids were clearing out her house, as they prepared to move their mother down to Texas to be near them.

At that time, I couldn’t find any images of these on the internet.  I assumed they were 1970s Sears knockoffs of a mid-century-modern design.  Or similar.  Middle-class couple, middle-class house.  Surely these were nothing special.

Yesterday I started putting these back together, as shown in the just-prior post.  At that time, I didn’t even know what to call them.  But they’re pretty nice, and it would be a shame to see them end up in the dumpster.  So why not.

On a whim — now two decades after my first attempt to ID them — I did another Google search.

I have now gotten a certification, from the son of the designer, that this is (or was) what’s left of a pair of Adrian Pearsall Craft Associates chairs.  

Adrian Pearsall is now something of a legend in U.S. mid-century-modern furniture design.  Properly restored, this pair of chairs would be worth thousands of dollars.

Worse, improperly restoring them is something of a sacrilege.  Not for the money lost, but for taking a valued piece of Americana and destroying it.

This is suddenly a different and more complex task.  All my woodworking plans go out the window.  And now I have to figure out how to proceed, now that I know what they are.  I don’t collect antique furniture, so it’s not clear these have any business staying with me.

I guess the real take-away is that these never should have ended up in the trash.  But they did so, because the prior owner left it up to her kids.  I only discovered the chairs’ secret identity because they became part of my own Swedish death cleaning.  I still have no idea what to do with them, but at least I’m making the decision, with an understanding of what they are.

Post #1854: Can this furniture be saved? Part 2, diving right into it.

 

Today I started restoring the two chairs pictured above.  I glued up one frame, and started a Tom-Johnson-style repair (below) of the other.

The sad circumstances under which I acquired these are given in Post #1697.

I’ll be writing up the progress, a bit at a time.  The idea is both to make notes, and to present an un-edited version of how this restoration actually played out.  Cuts and all.

Edit:  I may have goofed, big-time.  I picked these off the curb years ago, as described in Post #1697.  Last time I looked into it, I could not figure out who made them.  I assumed they were run-of-the-mill furniture, likely Sears Best or similar.  But now, the internet shows me that these are identical to Adrian Pearsall Craft Associates 932-C Sling Lounge Chairs.  Like these, on Ebay.  If so, these are (or were) valuable antiques.  Unless I can show that these are knockoffs, there will be no followup to this post on repairs.

 


Getting reacquainted with hand tools, or Today I Learned That Wood Chisels are Sharp!

Today I sliced the side of my thumb with a wood chisel.

‘Tsall good.

I’m now more mindful of where the sharp edge of the chisel may go if it slips.  And I take pains to hold the work and tool accordingly.

Let’s do Q and A about this incident.

Q:  Was I being a dumbass?  A:  Yes

Q:  Did it hurt like hell?  A:  Yes, eventually.

Q:  Deep cut?  Did I bleed on stuff?  A:  Yes and yes.

Q:  Gonna try not to do that again?  A:  You got it.


Summary of today’s progress.

There are two walnut frames, and two cloth-covered rigid foam seats, that must be restored.

One of the walnut frames is now glued back together.  That frame needs to have a corner block made and glued into place.  At that point, it will be complete except for cleaning, and having a finished seat installed.

This part was mostly boring and/or complicated by my lack of tools.  In particular, the nylon-rope-as-clamp was a bit of a clown show.  It took a couple of tries, but I think I got it adequately tight.

Above, left, is the wooden internal support for the rigid-foam seat.  When done, that will fit within the frame, with most of the occupant’s weight resting on two curved cleats screwed to the frame, as shown below.  Just four non-weight-bearing wood screws (two in the top bar, two in the bottom bar) hold the seat to the frame.

I don’t even know what to call this thing.  TV chair?  Lounger?  Even though it’s seems 1970s vintage (owing to the burnt orange fabric), the frame just says mid-century modern to me.  Whatever it is.

On the other frame, I have started a  repair patterned after those of Tom Johnson, of Gorham, Maine.  He’s a fine furniture restorer on YouTube.  In a situation like the one I’m facing, where the end of one leg is broken, he typically cuts the wood back to what’s sound.

Then he glues in an oversized block of matching wood.  Then he carves it to shape by hand.  That last part makes this fairly risky, for an amateur.  But after looking at my options, this seemed at least potentially feasible for me.

I think I can get that into shape.  For a no-talent like me, some combination of rasps and sandpaper (and lots of time) should allow me to get close. We’ll see tomorrow.

For the walnut piece that I glued in, I went to my local thrift shop and bought an ugly little piece of walnut bric-a-brac, from which I cut the block of walnut I used.  It was cheaper than buying a walnut board, and I could see how the wood would look when finished.

At this point, the only difficult task was drilling out the broken dowels.  FWIW, I drill a little pilot hole, hoping that it’s centered and square.  The drill a hole just smaller than the diameter of the dowel, hoping the drill bit stays entirely within the dowel, and doesn’t drill out into the walnut.  Then I scrape out any remaining wood that I can reach.  Then I clean out the hole using a drill bit that’s the full diameter of the dowel.

The whole game plan is to avoid wallowing out the hole, while cleaning out all the wood and glue in the hole.  I came close.  Mostly.

Dealing with loose but intact joints.  I’ll probably spend time in Purgatory for doing this, but I did not knock all the loose joints apart and re-glue them.  Two joints in the side frames were loose, but I feared taking the sides of the chairs apart entirely.  So instead of knocking the sides apart, I used clamps to spread those joints, exposing the loose (un-glued) dowels.  I liberally applied glue to those dowels before clamping the joints back together.

Arguably, the other sin I committed was gluing the dowled joints using Titebond (yellow aliphatic) glue.  I think the experts say to use hide glue on the joints, so that the furniture can be knocked apart as needed at a later date.  But having saved these from the trash once, I think that if I can get them back together at all, even once, that’s good enough.  So regular Titebond it is.  Plus, I already own it and know how to use it.

Next post will outline the overall plan.

Post #1853: Urban bicycling really is as dangerous as it looks.

 

Bottom line:  Per mile, risk of death on a bicycle is about thirteen times higher than risk of death in a car/SUV/van.  Calculation shown below.


Background

I read a story in the Washington Post today, about a woman who was killed while bicycling, in the bike lane, alongside River Road in Bethesda.  Crushed by a careless commercial truck driver making a right turn.  Leaving behind a husband and two young kids.

The truck driver was given the maximum sentence allowed by law, which in this case was a $2000 fine.  And a brief moment of shame in court.  He’s still on the road, driving a truck.

I looked up the accident scene on Google, and it was the worst kind of grudging, cheap, zero-effort retrofit urban bike lane that the very least of your tax dollars can produce. Based on historical images, they took a narrow, disused shoulder of a 35-MPH urban arterial highway, and painted little arrows and bike icons in it. 

Well, there’s your bike lane, right there.  Problem solved.   The result of that zero-effort accommodation of bicyclists is every bit as safe as you might reasonably expect.

Above, the middle red circle is the site of death.  It’s just one of many driveways opening into the busy commercial establishments that line the road.  It’s located just 500 feet from the Capital Crescent Trail, a dedicated bike path whose road-crossing bridge can be seen circled in the background.  Which is almost certainly why they bothered to re-paint the road shoulder.

In the foreground is a sign.  Based on Google street view, that sign was only placed there a few months ago.  If you don’t routinely bike in an urban area, you’d think that sign was there to remind motorists to use caution, and look before they turn.  But for that purpose, in this context, a sign like that is useless.  Motorists don’t even perceive signs like that, in the crowded visual field of an urban motorway, at 35 MPH and up.  The actual, practical purpose of the sign is to warn bicyclists and pedestrians that they are in the middle of a war zone, and that they should act accordingly if and as possible.

But in this situation, there’s not much a bicyclist can do.  The bike lane appears to be just under 3′ wide.  The curb is about a foot to your right, so there’s no escape in that direction.  Your life depends on the caution and good sense of the drivers passing a couple of feet to your left.

A slender reed, for sure.


But is it really as dangerous as it looks?

Yes it is. 

And, for some reason, this appears to be an answer that absolutely infuriates bicycle advocates.  Not because they don’t want to make roadways safer for bikes.  But simply because they don’t want to believe that there are significant downsides to bicycle transport in America.  This, even if everybody grasps what a drag it is to (e.g.) bike in bad weather.

(And, to be clear, I’m a lifetime bicycling enthusiast.  But I’m also a realist.)

Years ago, I did the homework to answer this question, to my own satisfaction.  I came up with an estimate that bicycling is about ten times as dangerous as driving, per mile traveled.  That’s in terms of risk of death.  It’s even higher in terms of risk of injury requiring medical attention.  Those specific calculations are lost in the mists of time.  So I thought I might update and document that here.

Any estimate of bicycling safety ends up combining data from two separate sources. That’s always a risk for accuracy, but it is what it is.

Information on traffic-related deaths comes from a motor vehicle crash reporting system maintained by the National Highway Transportation Safety Administration, the Fatality Analysis Reporting System.  Whatever its limitations, that’s the U.S. gold standard for counting traffic-related fatalities in the U.S.

(Secondarily, if you have an interest, you can use nationally-available hospital statistics from the U.S. Public Health Service’s Healthcare Cost and Utilization Project to find the number of hospitalizations and outpatient visits related to bicycle accidents.  But non-fatal injuries actually show an even grimmer picture for bicycling versus driving, so it’s probably sufficient to settle on an estimate of risk-of-death while bicycling versus driving, per mile.)

So, bicyclists accounted for about 2.4% of all U.S. traffic deaths in 2020.  That figure is roughly constant over time.

Information on bicycle-miles traveled comes from the National Household Travel Survey (NHTS).  This is based on a log-diary survey of thousands of U.S. households, capturing how and why they traveled over the course of a week.  Near as I can tell, it’s the only nationally-representative information on actual use of bicycles versus other modes of transportation.

Source:  2017 National Household Travel Survey

Based on that large, nationally-representative log-diary survey, bicycle transport accounted for 0.2% of all U.S. household transportation, or about 8.5 billion bicycle-miles per year in 2017.  (Sounds like a lot until you realize there are about 330 million U.S. residents, so that works out to about 25 bike-miles per person per year.)

We have to re-calculate the percentages above, to restrict this to cars versus bikes.  After that, it’s just simple math.


Summary.

Yes, bicycle transportation really is as dangerous as it looks, as you drive along the road.

Using two gold-standard U.S. databases, bicycling appears vastly riskier than driving a car.  In this most recent calculation, I estimate about 13 times higher risk of death, per mile, on a bike, versus in a car.  That’s reasonably consistent with the estimate I got years ago. 

And, as I recall, if you expand to non-fatal injuries requiring medical attention, the relative risk is actually much higher.  More like 50 or 60 times the risk, per mile.  That’s for the obvious reason that a collision that produces only minor bumps and scrapes to car occupants can produce severe wounds to an unprotected bicyclist.

Four things are worth noting.

First, the absolute risk is low.  If you bicycle 1000 miles a year — which is a lot — your risk of death-via-bike is about 0.01% per year.

Second, for older adults, the exercise benefit vastly outweighs the crash risk.  This is another one that I did the homework years ago, then lost the analysis somewhere.  For the average 65-year-old man, all-causes risk of death is about 2% per year.  Best available research suggests that frequent vigorous exercise roughly cuts that in half.  The health benefits of frequent bicycling likely outweigh the risk-of-traffic-death by an order of magnitude or two.

Third, on paper at least, walking around traffic is more hazardous than bicycling. I’m not sure to the extent this is driven solely by work-related pedestrian accidents in big cities.  But whatever the cause, this too seems plausible.  In effect, we let amateurs drive 3-ton pieces of machinery, at high speed, around crowds, with virtually no enforcement of rules or penalties for engaging in risky behavior.  It’s a wonder that so few pedestrian deaths result.

Finally, if you do a deep dive in the FARS database, you’ll find that dead pedestrians and dead bicyclists have something in common with dead drivers.  An astounding fraction of them are dead drunk at the time.  Roughly half, in each case.  The moral of the story is that BUI and WUI are maybe not as deadly to others as DUI, but they clearly up your risk of death on the roadways.

But in this case, that’s irrelevant.  It was broad daylight, and the victim was returning from a school function for her kids.  The death was just the result of a toxic combination of thoughtless, zero-effort bike lane design, and bad luck.  Ten seconds sooner, or ten seconds later, and she’d have been fine.  It’s just an unavoidable risk of bicycling in most urban areas of the U.S.

Post #1852: The USDA says to #leavetheleaves.

 

No less an authority than the USDA is now on the bandwagon for #leavetheleavesThat is, the idea that gathering and disposing of fallen autumn leaves is foolish from an environmental standpoint.

The conspiracy-minded among you may view this as just another facet of the Deep State, an evil cabal within the U.S. Civil Service determined to disrupt every facet of the American Way.  Yes, stooping so low as to attack that most harmless of small-town fall rituals … 

requesting that citizens rake/blow leaves to the curb, so the Town can repeatedly drive its high-decibel fleet of dedicated leaf-vacuuming equipment through town, and so spend hundreds of thousands of dollars to suck up those leaves, then trucking hundreds of tons of leaves down the interstate so that they can be sterilized via hot composting at some remote location, ensuring that no offspring of this year’s crop of butterflies and similar insects survive.

Well, at least, that’s the tradition in my small town.  It’s an industrial-scale process that’s a far cry from Normal Rockwell, if you get my drift.

Source:  Pinterest.

The USDA is just the most recent in a long line of organizations that have gotten behind the idea that leaf collection and disposal of this type is a relic of the past.  Historically, in this area, it’s the immediate successor to the era in which suburbanites routinely raked up and burned fall leaves.  Before that was banned owing to the resulting air pollution.

Locally, even the surrounding county (Fairfax County, VA) has proposed to stop doing vacuum leaf collection (see Post #1821).  In part, because that turned out to be a real hassle for county staff this past year.  But also for all the good reasons outlined on the USDA web page.

But in Vienna, VA, traditions die hard, unless there’s some profit to be made in killing them.  And new learning percolates excruciatingly slowly.  Town-wide, this is mostly about doing our bit to slow the insect apocalypse (reference National Academies of Science).  Not sure that matters to most residents, even though it should, from a survival-of-our-species standpoint.  All said and done, it’s still an open question as to whether we can break ourselves of this 40-year-old tradition.  Just to benefit a bunch of butterflies and such.

My prior screeds on this subject include:

  • Post 1822, on the fuel used in this process.
  • Post 1821, on Fairfax County staff recommending no leaf vacuuming.
  • Post 1612, on the emissions from gas versus electric leaf blowers.
  • Post G22-034, on vacuum leaf collection being a relic of the past.
  • Post 1463, on putting the environment first in the Town’s decision-making.

This, in addition to several posts on the economics of the Town of Vienna’s centralized leaf collection and disposal process.

 

Pictures in this post are mainly from Gencraft.com and Freepik AI

Post #1851: Who put the weather on fast-forward? Tropical storm Ophelia.

 

Tonight and tomorrow, it’s going to rain like crazy around here.  In the DC area, we’re expecting to get about three inches, with some significant probability of tropic storm force winds (sustained winds in excess of 39 MPH).  My brother lives in the Tidewater area, and he’s right on the edge of the region where four to six inches of rain are expected.  Along with maybe a four foot tidal surge.  All from tropical storm Ophelia.

What I find odd about is that the very first mention of this disturbance was late yesterday morning.  That’s based on a check of the archives at the the National Hurricane Center.  The very first mention of Ophelia — the point at which it became a named tropical storm — was the forecast update as of late afternoon today.

Source:  National Hurricane Center.

In short, the interval between this thing becoming a name tropical storm, and the start of the deluge, here in NoVA, is maybe eight hours.  Plus or minus. Even worse, my brother in the Tidewater area got about 6 hours’ warning between the time Ophelia became a named storm, and the time that tropical-storm-force winds are expected to hit his area.

I don’t think the weather used to work this way.  Either that, or my memory has become so clouded that I don’t recall the times this has occurred in the past.

I used to have a sailboat, down in Tidewater Virginia, a couple of hours’ drive from where I live.  I spent many autumns tuned into the hurricane forecast for this area, because a major storm meant that I had to move the boat off its dock and moor it in the middle of the river.  (Because, if you don’t, the storm surge floats your boat up and over the dock, at which point wave action destroys both the boat and the dock to which it is tied.  So it’s not optional.  It was written into the contract allowing me to use the dock.)  This, along with everybody else who kept a boat at the same dock.  It was quite a fire drill every time.

My recollection is that major tropical cyclones were well-anticipated events, and that you’re read about them for days before they made landfall.  I’d have plenty of time to gear up, arrange time off work, and get the boat prepped for the oncoming storm.

I further recall that when a few such storms “popped up” in the Gulf of Mexico two years ago, without crossing the Atlantic first, that was news, meteorologically-speaking.

But maybe the short-cycling of tropical storms is now the new normal.  Plausibly, this is brought about by elevated Atlantic Coast sea surface temperatures.  Warm ocean temperatures in the Gulf of Mexico got all the headlines with the most recent hurricane.  But in fact, ocean water temperatures are a few degrees above historical averages all up and down the U.S. East Coast.  And, apparently, a few degrees is all it takes to whirl up a tropical storm in a couple of days, flat.

And so, this went from literally nothing on the weather map, to landfall of a tropical storm, in just about exactly two days.

And, unlike those pop-up tropical depressions of a couple of years back, that doesn’t even seem to be triggering comment this time around.

It’s just the way the world works now.  Having days of warning for a tropical storm landfall?  That’s so last-century.

Get used to it.

All pictures here are from Gencraft.com AI.  We never really did have a meeting of the minds over what I meant by “hurricane”.