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The hydrogen car is quite safe, Mann says, despite the volatility of hydrogen. He dismisses the "Hindenburg syndrome," which makes people associate hydrogen with blazing death because of the famous dirigible disaster in 1937. Disregarding Mann's assurance that putting a bullet through this engine would not cause a fire, the car owner involuntarily takes a step back from the open hood. But he perks up at hydrogen mileage figures. The car "should" get about 60 m.p.g. and, because of the hydraulic accumulator designed to take over during stop-and-go traffic, close to 100 m.p.g. in the city.
On down the line David Kravitz, faculty adviser to the Penn State team, outlines the virtues of a modified 1975 Honda CVCC that students have converted into a diesel. The rival University of Pennsylvania crew has taken a Rabbit diesel, added a turbocharger to burn fuel more efficiently and stuck it in an elongated Honda chassis designed to seat six passengers. Says a team member: "We call it aDachshonda." The University of Wisconsin, Milwaukee, team has put a two-cylinder, 25-h.p. Onan industrial engine (usually used to power an electric generator) into a British Austin Mini, added an electronic microprocessor to fine-tune the motor while it is running and hooked up a hydraulic accumulator to store unused energy. The Colorado State team has used graphite and Kevlar in the frame to shave 600 Ibs. from an already light Audi. The name of this entry is Scab I, for "Screw the Arab bastards," the team cheerfully proclaims.
Another entry is already tooling around the giant lot testing a tiny, one-cylinder gasoline engine in preparation for the 250-mile endurance run. This job would never carry the wife and three kids to the lake each summer. It is a three-wheeled "people-powered" gadget that relies mainly on its two nearly reclined passengers' ability to pedal an attenuated tandem bike. The little go-cart engine is only for the hills. Explains Student Paul Fromm, ";We can go 40 or 50 m.p.h. ... at least it seems that fast when you're this close to the ground."
There is not much noise—now and then the throaty roar of an improperly muffled diesel, the grating whine of a hydraulic accumulator and sometimes a distant cheer from students who get a cranky car started. Many entries are over in the repair section. Berkeley's yellow, gull-winged two-seater, with students draped all over its chassis, is splayed open like' a turkey awaiting stuffing."A little overhaul?" asks the car owner. "Overhaul, hell!" snaps a student mechanic. &"We're building it for the first time."
Feeling fairly gloomy, the car owner ambles by the Minnesota entry again. He wonders aloud about a row of plastic tabs placed at odd angles just above the rear window of a Plymouth Volare. "Vortex generators," explains a student. The little tabs cause turbulence in the air as it passes over the car, reducing "drag" and saving fuel. "Wanna see another innovation?" pipes another student from under the hood. "How 'bout this clothespin holding on the accelerator cable?"