Jenna Catsos
Joe Bossen
Ron Steffens, Professor

Prologue

By Joe Bossen, Campus Editor , Green Mountain College '08

Riverton, New Jersey, with less than one square-mile of land area to its name, is not an environmentalist stronghold. Yet, perhaps because of wanting to safeguard themselves from the sprawling corporate suburbia encompassing them, perhaps because the adjacent Delaware River, like all bodies of water, is a beautiful incarnation of living nature and worth saving, compassion for things natural has not been lost on the people of Riverton.

Riverton is my hometown. Up until coming to Green Mountain College, I spent most of the days of my life under its deciduous foliage or in the shallows of its span of Delaware currents. It was in that setting that I grew so fond of the world beyond the scope of humanity. In eighth grade my dad handed me the book Natural Capitalism. As I worked my way through the ideas, plans, and hopes embedded in it’s pages, I basically woke up then and there to what direction I would take my life. Through exposing the false dichotomy of industry versus Nature, Natural Capitalism showed through pragmatic changes, just how good green business can be to both pockets and planets.

My junior year of high school rolled around and brought with it a singularly profound experience. One of my closest friends and his dad bought an old, white diesel Jetta from some guy in Vermont, brought it home, and tweaked it to run on vegetable oil. They followed Greasecar’s assemblage manual, but to save money used their own parts. Each weekend for a month they would devote hours of their weekend to the project until ultimately the second-most important food group was powering their chugging behemoth.

I remember asking Devin, “So whatever made you guys decide to do something like this?” He replied, “It’s just something we could do, you know? Imagine if everyone did just one thing like this, how much better off we’d all be.” That answer changed my perception of him a lot. Even more so, it changed my perception of the world.

It was with that thought and some information from PETA that I let go of the Philly Cheese-steaks that were so near and dear to my heart. It was with that thought and my ambitions that I dumped the portion of my life I would keep with me into my humbly furnished, casually painted, white dorm at Green Mountain.

Enter Biofuels

My first year at Green Mountain put all of my woes and angst in the passionate, sound logic of an environmental liberal arts education. In that first year I had already developed life-long relationships with the professors and authors that filled my days, each became a trusted mentor. My second year there fostered a conversation that led to my some of my hopes becoming tangible.

After seeing how easy and profound it was to convert a car to be powered by straight vegetable oil (SVO), the ol’ gears got turning in my head. I had this picture in my head of a used car lot solely soliciting cars capable of running on SVO. I loved the idea of opening up sustainable mobility to the majority of the population that couldn’t afford hybrids, which were even more of an anomaly then. I saw myself selling cars to families for under $10,000 that would lighten their ecological footprints while reducing the risk of asthma in their children. I saw the pizza place in my hometown making deliveries in a car powered by their own used frying oil. I saw a world that was damn exciting.

Prudent Fuels

This ideation all took a lovely turn after an economics class one day. Somehow my professor Paul Hancock and I got to talking about biofuels, and as the conversation progressed he enlightened me to the fact that he had recently become the director of the Center for Sustainable Community Development. It was with his help, and the help of several other faculty and students, that I was able to incorporate Prudent Fuels, Inc in February earlier this year.

As our little entrepreneurial group talked things out more, we all resolved that a small-scale biodiesel production operation would be the way to go with all of this. We didn’t feel that we were savvy enough to buy and sell old diesels, fixing whatever ailed them, and offer the necessary customer support should post-purchase issues arise.

Biodiesel processing on the other hand was cheap, easy, and could be utilized to impact more people (though less profoundly in terms of environmental impact). So that’s what we did. The Center was able to secure an USDA Rural Development grant to establish a revolving loan fund, from which I got my start up capital. Just a few days ago I put a down payment on my processor. Yay for progress!

The big picture for Prudent Fuels is to get a regional stream of commerce that benefits local farmers and citizens instead of multinational corporations and petroleum interests. I am establishing a relationship with the Rutland Area Food and Farm Link (RAFFL) in my effort to have an operation that is fed by regional agricultural inputs, processed by local people on local properties, and then redistributed to the community with the economic and environmental benefits rippling across our patios and pastures.

So while it was a bit of a bummer to leave the SVO car lot rattling in my head, I was thrilled to be progressing along my life’s path in pursuit of things that actually mattered to me, things that will help to make this world what we all want it to be. I also take solace in the fact that I wasn’t the only one thinking along those lines. Lovecraft in L.A. and the Green Car Company in Kirkland, WA are doing just what I had pictured, and executing my ambitions better than I could have myself.

Sow Power

The latest project Prudent Fuels and myself have undertaken involves a family-owned and operated meat processor in Benson, VT called Over the Hill Farm. They got in contact with me via a friend of mine who has been working there. The plan is to convert the 150 gallons or so of animal fat that they render daily into biodiesel to heat their facilities in the long, cold New England winters. They’ve also expressed interest in generating electricity with whatever excess may become available.

While I personally have some reservations with animal agriculture, I don’t see it going away in my lifetime. So, while it’s here, I only see positives coming from utilizing the waste stream of such a large industry into a proactive ends like biodiesel. This project is still mostly taking place in the chemistry lab, but I’ll be sure to keep you all updated as things move forward. I love being able to help prove that the dichotomy between business and environmental interests is a fallacy.

Transcontinental Odyssey

This is kind of out of chronological order, but oh well. As part of my quest to integrate sustainable fuels into the mainstream economy, my lovely girlfriend Jessica and I headed out to her home in Oregon at the end of last year’s school year. I bought me an ’87 Mercedes 190D in May that I aspired to convert to run on SVO and take across the continent. Things fell through and I didn’t get a chance to convert it, but I drove as many miles as possible on biodiesel. That was a lesson in itself.

Jess and I marked off towns on our atlas that the National Biodiesel Board’s directory assured us had the good stuff (that kids go for): biodiesel. I was pleased to see that there aren’t many states lacking biofuel pumps these days. Even better, most states have enough pumps spread out just right so that it actually is possible to drive the width of this groaning continent without relying much on any decayed dinosaurs (especially if you’ve got some fuel cans in your trunk). Unfortunately, because of time constraints, I wasn’t able to take all of the requisite detours. Still, I’m proud to say that from the time I left Groton, Vermont through to Silverton, Oregon and back, I was fueled about sixty-percent of the time by biofuels. By paying a few coins extra a gallon I was able to keep 3,287 pounds of carbon dioxide out of the atmosphere, and perhaps over 160 gallons of used frying oil out of landfills.

After this I was as convinced as ever that no person should live their life without finding the time to ease by the unending beauty that unrolls with westbound America. The America that we’re all fighting for rests in all of the places you would never think to go. Places not on maps, scarcely in our lives. More importantly, I became convinced that not a single one among us has a good enough excuse for not changing their fuel, energy, life decisions in a manner that will help preserve this world that we are all sharing, are all dependant upon. It took me 11,863 miles and spending my twentieth birthday in a backcountry hot spring in Cascade, Idaho for these things to resonate as the truths they are to me. Whatever you need to do to find a similar truth, make similar changes, please do it.

Joe’s Five

1) Start keeping a compost bin. At the very least, you can drop your meal scraps in your garden—no meats, dairy, or paper products though.

2) Find the nearest biofuels pump by either hopping on the internet or asking around town. Start phasing at least a 5% blend into your fossil fuel diet.

3) Go to your next town meeting. Stay on top of what’s going on in your neighborhood. See what steps they’re taking to become more mindful and adapt to their role in natural systems. Make suggestions and/or join a cause that’s already in motion.

4) This weekend go to your favorite park, riverside, or trail and just bring a trash bag—and maybe some gloves. Take a little time to preserve a place that holds a special meaning to you.

5) Unless you’re very physically active, try not showering today. I promise you won’t smell that bad that quickly. If you do shower, try taking a cold or lukewarm shower instead. The energy it takes to heat the water causes more harm than the water depletion itself.

Read Joe's editorials and other campus activities

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