I wrote about the Gossmaer Albatross II late last year. But looking at the aircraft that requires pedal power hang in The Museum of Flight in Seattle still amazes me.

My family and I recently visited again because flight – especially when it’s powered by humans - still captures my curiosity. On this visit, the sun was just the right shade of gold.

If you’re unfamiliar with the Gossamers, one model, the Condor, was piloted by a human across the English Channel in 1979. This model, the Albatross II on exhibit in Seattle, went airborne in the Astrodome.

From June 6 to 14, The Museum of Flight will show two movies about human-powered flight and the Gossamers to mark the Albatross’ 30th anniversary.

There is something inexplicably satisfying about using your own power to accomplish something that you thought might have been impossible.

The Seattle area crew of OAR Northwest knows that feeling. The team of four men rowed across the Atlantic Ocean in 2006, ran low on food, encountered storms and unforgiving currents – and won a race against two other teams.

Next year, two of the original team members plan to row again in the Atlantic with two new crewmates.

At The Musem of Flight, I walked around the Gossamer Albatross II. I examined the wingspan, propeller and enclosed area where a human would sit and pedal, pedal, pedal.

And I thought: Would I ever be willing to climb aboard, take flight and pedal across a large body of water?

That 1979 flight only took 2 hours and 49 minutes, according to The Museum of Flight.

It’s tempting – but it might not be in the cards for me right now. I’m sure some of my friends from high school would give it a shot.

But I have experienced the exhaustion and joy of overcoming what I thought was a hurdle before – it probably wasn’t anything close to what the crew of OAR Northwest went through.

That was a true test of human power and intelligence against what Mother Nature could muster up in the Atlantic.

But in the 1980s, when I was a teenager, my friends encouraged me to pedal 100 miles in a century ride in Northern California. They did well. I finished the ride in under 10 hours.

I still remember what one veteran bicyclist told me as he saw me pedal: Drink as much water as you can.

In 1994, I accomplished a 1,200-mile solo mountain bike ride through China – at a time when I didn’t know how to speak Mandarin.

My parents had some reservations about the ride – the thought of bandits stopping me on a rural road entered their minds, and I think, stayed there for a bit.

The fact that I mailed home my Specialized bike helmet before I started my trek probably didn’t allay their fears.

At the time, a Western-style bike helmet would make the rider stand out like an alien force of one. My helmet also was silver.

But on that trip, in which I pedaled 8 to 10 hours per day, I saw parts of that country that I don’t think I’ll ever see again in the near future.

Near Luoyang in Henan province, I looked up and saw a pair of feet sticking out of a cave. A person was sleeping inside.

A big black Mercedes-Benz one time pulled beside me and everyone inside peered out. Another time, I watched a woman rake a field made up of dirt. She made orderly rows of what she had.

And I saw peasants lead water buffaloes down paths.

With the sun setting on the Gossamer Albatross II, I studied the rear-mounted propeller.

I also looked at the front and back wheels that made sure the pedaler arrived with a soft landing.

Then, I compared those tiny wheels to the tires on a nearby commercial jet.

I finally realized that I had to catch up with my wife and son. They were exploring another part of the museum.

As I climbed some stairs, I turned back to get a glimpse of the setting sun hit the outlines of the museum’s aircraft.

It was a great visit.

It reminded me, yet again, that going somewhere makes for only part of an adventure. It’s also how you arrive.

Image source: John Villarreal's site on coroflot.com

Image source: John Villarreal's site on coroflot.com

It’s easy to dismiss ideas and questions that might strike you as impractical or impossible to achieve. But you know, these questions really need to be asked – with just about everything in life.

Think that’s an impractical way to live?

Consider it this way: At one point, someone had to raise the idea of touching a screen, say on a powerful smart cell phone that you could hold in your hand, to fetch information and move it around.

So, when I was looking at a Web site and came across John Villarreal’s images for a futuristic bicycle – one with spokes, or a hub or a traditional derailleur, freewheel or a frame with a traditional seat post – I realized he was asking the right question and thinking not about now but about a day when we realize that what we have now might not want we want to have in the future.

His description only included two sentences with the one I like here:

Our ability to manufacture lighter frames with increasing strength of materials will allow us to make shapes that today would structurally fail.

Think this is just pie-in-the-sky stuff?

Do you realize that Honda and Toyota are both studying ways in which humans will move about in the future – say in the office on a personal mobility device or in a vehicle that resembles a motorized chair?

And people are thinking about robots and their increased use in the future. I mean, they already suck up dust in many of our homes already.

Practical questions of Villarreal’s design can be asked down the road.

I’m sure, if his design ever comes to production, there will be many: Repairs, taking the bicycle apart if needed, applying accessories such as bags and racks and securing them so the first one on the street doesn’t end up in a thief’s collection of first gets.

But you know: These questions are needed now to push the United States – as well as other countries – down the road and out of the economic slump of the last few years.

While I think a strong understanding of the economy is always needed, it is good to think outside of that framework to truly channel creativity, intelligence and energy to increase productivity and the ways in which we live.

By the way, though, having a strong grasp of the economy will help if a government official ever tells you that the “fundamentals” are strong or if you receive – without a request – federal money and strong hints to go spend it.

I’m always wondering which company or country will have the ability to produce the first commercial aircraft that can fly using electricity.

That might be impossible. But it’s certainly a question to ask because there might be a team out there with enough brainpower and financial backing to accomplish that goal.

Designers already have thought about making an exhaust-free cargo ship – and powered by solar and wind power.

Oh, yes: If you want to see some cool-looking bicycles, my friend Martin has a nice collection.

UPDATE: My friend Martin sends this link from Bike Snob NYC, a blog, with the writer questioning what people have against the hub of a bicycle wheel.

Photo credit: Copyright Martin Dare, martin.dare-connect.org

Photo credit: Copyright Martin Dare, martin.dare-connect.org

Photo credit: Martin Dare, martin.dare-connect.org

I speak the truth on this one. Really.

Martin Dare and I have been friends since kindergarten and the great thing is that we’ve stayed in touch, well, over the decades.

As teenagers, we rode our bicycles over the Pacific mountains from what is popularly known these days as Silicon Valley to Sunset State Beach, which is south of Santa Cruz, Calif.

Good times, as the saying goes.

He’s continued with his bicycling ways, which is admirable.

In fact, he’s such an avid bike rider and he has so many cool two wheelers that it’s like he has a small museum – and that he’s the curator.

On his Web site, he’s done a nice job of giving a little history behind each human-powered vehicle that he has, including an orange one with Campagnolo parts from the 1970s. 

As kids, we first rode on BMXs, then moved up to those single-gear beach cruiser bikes, which we used to deliver newspapers.

I finally moved up to a touring bicycle and then a mountain bike. He graduated to some serious racing bicycles and even rode with many clubs, including one when he studied at the University of California at Berkeley.

One of our high school classmates - or possibly his brother - took a welding class at a local community college. They somehow found metal tubes and made their own recumbent and versions are pretty popular these days.

It was heavy but we liked the low-slung design. We figured it could go faster since it was lower to the ground. But I think the steel added weight.

As I recall, Martin and I talked about building our own.

Or perhaps, it was just a thought that entered my head.

In any event, he and I used to read Bicycling Magazine and studied all those cool fairings that the one- and two-person human powered vehicles had.

I remember reading that in time tests, those low-to-the-ground vehicles with big cranks and gears could go pretty fast.

We were in awe.

I always wondered if those human-powered vehicles could rival the speed of a car.

In any event, Martin, Bill, my other friends and I would find the best hills or mountains in our area.

We’d pedal up and then we’d bomb down them.

On some trips, we’d stop off at a nearby reservoir and go for a swim.

In this day and age when people tote GPS units and Google has its Street View, there is one simple question regarding these four maps of China:

Why do I still carry them in – out of all places – my laptop computer bag?

I can get wireless Internet connection on my laptop and log on to mapping services from Google, Yahoo and MapQuest. And people are accustomed to the automated voices from GPS devices: “Turn left in 100 yards.”

The answers: Back in 1994, I pedaled my Bridgestone mountain bike on a solo trip for 1,200 miles in China. I didn’t have a cell phone. I couldn’t speak Mandarin.

These Nelles Verlag maps, a compass and dozens of strangers guided me to the right places. I also studied the sun hovering in the sky to make sure I pedaled in the right direction – south.

I’ve misplaced my compass. I want to safeguard these maps. There is another reason why I want these maps nearby.

I like this photograph of this codger.

As in: Wispy facial hair, slightly-crooked blue hat and heavy-duty, wire-rimmed glasses that wrap around his head and don’t sit on his ears.

Outdated dental headgear? No.

Something to help someone see more clearly. But I wonder if the metal brackets blocked any part of his vision.

If Shanghai Tang sold these glasses, imagine how much money you’d pay.

You would be ultra-stylish, though, at a chic party. If people asked, you could tell them: “I’m an artist” or “I’m a writer.” 

This man might not think of himself as a codger. There’s a good chance that if he saw me, he’d think my clothing was offbeat.

This guy is the real thing.

When the photographer lifted the camera to take this picture, this man could have turned away or put his hand up. Instead, he looked straight.

I realize many urban Chinese residents will say that this image does not represent everyone in China – that the country has changed in style.

That’s true.

But China’s population remains so large that I’m sure that it’s relatively easy to find peasants who still are living in similar ways. They just might not have these glasses.

Meeting genuine people is one of the greatest joys in life.

They do what they want because they like doing it and it doesn’t really hurt anyone else.

It’s similar to going to a formal party and noticing that an older relative is wearing black tennis shoes with a dark suit.

Of course, you could walk up and say: “You know, I don’t think a Nordstrom sales associate would recommend that.”

The relative would likely respond: “But I’m comfortable.”

When I was pedaling my bike in China years ago, I traveled through Henan province and its dry, rolling hills.

The sun was shining. I looked to my side and spotted an opening, a cave in the side of a cliff.

Then, at the entrance and in the shade, I saw two feet sticking out. A person was resting on a cot or bed inside.

On this map, it was somewhere near Jiyuan, which is north of Luoyang.

Before I forget, I bought these maps - each one cost $8.95 – from Rand McNally’s The Map & Travel Store in Washington, D.C. That was 15 years ago.

I believe this is the store. And I’ve never dropped these maps and had them shatter before me.

I find there are times when I talk about the past in my posts.

What I’m learning is that life can get busy and as I get older, it is easy to forget what I thought I could recall at a moment’s notice.

So, in many ways, these posts are a good thing.