A massive ego check
And a moment of gratitude for friends, near and far.
My first job out of college was in consulting. Depending on what corner of the Internet you’re living in, this could mean a couple different things: professional PowerPoint monkey, zombie-brained coffee guzzler, buzzword-loving b*llsh**er, person with no real skills… you get the picture.
Despite all that, I was reasonably happy there, for a while, at least. But not because of the client impact or the travel opportunities or the peers or the credit card points. What really did it for me was the magical first week of a project, when the main task at hand was usually some variation of “developing industry expertise.”
Also known as: frantically learn as much as you can about the project topic so you can speak cogently about it with the people who actually know things. This involved a lot of reading, researching, and hours upon hours of ‘information services’ calls where the company paid a lot of money for you to interrogate the real industry experts.* It’s not everyone’s favorite part of consulting, but I loved it.
See, one of my not-so-well-kept secrets is that I’m a giant nerd. And I’m not talking about the casual cool, Bay Area espresso expert-cum-bouldering-cum-garage full of robots type of nerd (looking at you, McKinley brothers). I’m talking Hermione Granger style, spreadsheet of books read each year, frizzy hair, debate club, encyclopedia nerd.
Getting paid to learn about different industries? Right up my alley.
Over four years, I became a choose-your-own-adventure style ‘expert’ in a variety of topics: corporate philanthropy, international trade flows, low-carbon building materials, logistics for wind turbines… the list went on. I didn’t always retain the information, or walk away feeling like an expert; truth be told, there were definitely moments where I felt squeamish about the robustness of my newfound ‘expertise.’
But there was one area I actually loved: solar power. And it was the one topic where I dared to call myself an expert without blushing. For years, I geeked on cross-value chain integration in the solar industry. I could quote weird statistics from NREL about the solar value stack from memory and split out customer acquisition cost by state.
I can’t say for certain why I loved solar topics so much** but I really dove into them. At one point, I worked in Germany, coaching a group of components engineers through a North American market entry plan. My proudest career moment was probably sitting in that boardroom, English-major-turned-inverter expert, nailing the presentation in front of a group of super-technical industry veterans. All guys with engineering degrees, too.
I try to keep a low ego, but when it came to solar power, I’ll admit that had a pretty high opinion of myself. At least, until last week.
See, there’s a gaping hole in my expertise — one I always suspected, but didn’t want to reckon with. I could recite solar stats and facts and tell you all about state-specific policy trends, but I’d never actually touched a solar system with my own two hands. And somehow, I deluded myself into thinking that wouldn’t be a problem when riding a solar-powered bike across the USA. I could just find one, ready-built, and good to go, right?
When Polo and I came up with the idea for the trip in March 2024, we laid out a project plan and got to work on a massive spreadsheet of sponsorship opportunities, solar farms to visit, nonprofit partnerships, etc. When we found a guy on the Internet who promised to help us build batteries and solar that could power 150+ miles a day, we jumped at the chance to work with him.
Well, to make a long story short, when we met him in California, it took approximately 24 hours for Polo and I to realize that we had very different definitions of prototype bike.
As Polo said, “we were hoping to get unicorns to cross the country. Instead, we got donkeys. So we had to turn them into horses.”***
While I started madly researching power electronics upgrades, calling electrical supply stores, and getting on the phone with more technical friends (+ shoutout to Gery + Alexa and Julian, I hope the solar-powered lawnmower is going well), Polo set about rebuilding the entire racking system from scratch, making his handy grandfathers proud. The incredible Janet from SteinTrikes sent us some amazing components to refit my frame. Kevin donated some extrusions to add to the front mount. We bought some new chargers and wires to upgrade the recharge speed.
And somehow, a few days later (and bit behind schedule), some way, we hit the road.
The good news is the bikes seem to be working. We’ve passed the first test, having ridden approximately 250 miles and climbed 15,000 feet in three days, which is way beyond our current fitness levels on a regular bike. I’m writing this post from the shores of South Lake Tahoe, right before crossing into the Great Basin Desert, which will provide another big technical challenge to the setup with remote areas and extreme temperatures.
Turns out, I’m no solar expert — I’m still at the very beginning of a long, long journey to truly grasp the field. My heart races a little each time I touch my lithium-ion batteries, and I do a Google double-check before I cross any wires. As I talk to people on the road (and believe me, there’s a lot of people who stop to ask what the heck we’re doing), I don’t dare describe myself as a solar person — just a girl who really believes in the power of the sun to move us towards a clean energy future.
I’m not even sure that 4,000 miles across the USA will get me there. But I hope you’ll keep reading to see how it goes.
At the same time that my vision of an effortless, lightweight ride across America with zero technical difficulties has vanished into thin air, something far more meaningful has come to light. The minute that Polo and I realized our solar-powered bike setup was going to require some serious work, the most amazing community of friends and chosen family rallied around the project to see us off in style. From the old roommates + new who cooked up a massive veggie paella and served up my favorite cake (+ JMac, Kevin, Michael and Julia) to the incredible neighbors who showed up at the kickoff party bearing advice, LED safety lights, and donations to GRID Alternatives, and well-wishes for a safe travel, the people we shared the week with made a stressful situation into a truly special moment of joy. This cemented three things for me:
Nurturing old relationships, even if challenging, is key to feeling rooted.
Forming new relationships, even if unexpected, is key to growth.
Intergenerational relationships are core to creating a healthy society and to building an inclusive climate movement (I’ll write more about these later).
I can’t really put down in words how grateful I am to the people who helped us get to this point, and how excited I am to meet so, so many more along the way.
May the sun be on your side, friends.
* I worked in consulting before the whole OpenAI / Artificial Intelligence revolution took hold.
** Well, it might have something to do with the fact solar power presented itself as an attractive alternative to all the aging noxious fossil fuel infrastructure I grew up next to in Houston, but that’s a story for a different time.
*** Not sure if this is a French saying or a Polo-ism.
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Hope you post technical stuff about the bike design/construction, and how they are performing - very curious! Especially about how uphills affect the whole picture. Or maybe you have posted this stuff somewhere and I don't see it.
Wow! So, now I've learned a whole lot more about you! Really excited to be following this journey. Are you hoping to use mostly cycle paths/routes? And I'm curious to know how much you feel the solar is helping as your bikes are obviously much heavier than the ones you were on last year. Keep pedaling!