Confessions of a Biodiesel Driver

by George Wolfe

It was a balmy Friday evening in May, 2006 and I somehow found myself alone on a supposed date with my wife. The kids were in good care, I’m sure, somewhere. So there we were, methodically — actually, I was more reluctantly — winding through the gridiron streets of downtown Santa Monica, looking for “one of those biodiesel cars” that she swore she’d seen for sale “one of these streets.” Some date. Then she squeals: “There it is!” We pull up beside the BBQ-red Mercedes 300CD coupe.

Thus began my entry into the world of greasecars (aka biodiesels). We’d both begun to hear about them, passing emails and magazine clips back and forth, but at the time (not even so long ago) they were still very “fringey.” I didn’t know anyone personally who had one. I’d been driving a trusty Honda Civic that I gotten new 10+ years prior, but after it was totaled twice, it was time to make a change — third time might not be such a charm.

But a ’78 Mercedes? That just wasn’t me; in fact, it cut against the grain of my WASPy upbringing, which interprets anything stylish as being heretical and lavish, and practically necessitates a flogging. Sure, there was the green appeal of getting off the fossil fuel train that was headed toward the end of the line, and the potential to even run the car for free (on waste vegetable oil, WVO), but in the end I was equally won over by the fact that it was simply a beautiful car. We went with the owner on a breezy drive up PCH, and with the sunroof down — despite an engine that shook like a small aircraft — we expressed our interest.

After one prospective buyer backed out, and after intensively researching the subject on our own, we decided to make the leap to a whole different driving experience — which is to say that I would do most of the leaping, as my wife immediately called dibs on our ’05 Prius. We were sold; rather, it was sold to us (for about $4,500).

For men in L.A. (and perhaps elsewhere, too) it’s practically a rite of passage that when you hit middle age you have to buy a zippy sportscar and start cheating on your wife. After all — at least for American men — cars are symbols of who the man is or wants to be. Not knowing entirely what all that symbolism might be in my case, I nonetheless decided that a greasecar suited me just fine and, as long as I was making unconventional choices, I would keep the wife.

I went to Lovecraft, which is the main game in town for converting these types of cars, and had it done for $700. My car, as I bought it, was essentially able to run on veggie oil, but over the long haul it needed the specialty conversion. Not being mechanically minded, I was glad to hand that part over to a skilled mechanic.

Since becoming part of the grease movement, there have been pros and cons about the whole experience.

The pros are that there is a quiet comfort in doing something that’s off the grid, especially in these times of oil mania, amidst wars in oil-rich countries and when gas companies are reaping record profits. When we so often feel helpless to make an impact on the environment, it feels good to start somewhere, anywhere, and to be an example – to be a person who gets his window knocked upon so that some well-meaning person can get a question answered about these types of cars. Another perk is that these are well-designed, classic cars that have a lot of style. What if it so happened that greasecars could only be fashioned out of, say, old Ford Fiestas (in that case, I’m not sure there would be much of a movement). And as you read more about Adolph Diesel, you glimpse the slim-but-exciting possibility that, by sheer necessity alone, we might one day come full circle and run engines on what they were originally built for: readily available, renewable biofuels such as peanut oil or soybean oil.

What a concept.

Then again, the flip side of “classic” is that you might end up with a 30-year-old car, chock full of used-car oddities (knobs that no longer work, no air conditioning, etc.) and repairs (let’s just say that I’ve had my share). I’ve also been a wuss about going around to restaurants and collecting waste vegetable oil (WVO). Being lazy in this respect, I’ve gotten too used to the more convenient biodiesel pump at my local USA gas station in Marina del Rey. In hindsight, I wish I’d started out by at least buying straight vegetable oil (SVO) from a place like Costco, or just put in the time and found a restaurant to take WVO off their hands instead of them having to pay a so-called “renderer” to take it away and turn it into pet food. But hey, that’s just me and my own little cross that I’ve been unable to put to rest.

The folks at Lovecraft acknowledge that some people seem to have so many restaurant relationships that they don’t know what to do with them all, while others can’t seem to get enough of it. Generally, it seems to boil down to a matter of whether you have more time or money. Once you get the source, evidently, it’s not as big of a deal as it might seem. But you do have to provide your source with regular pickups of WVO, that will take some time.

Biodiesel itself is a murky term and a sticky issue. It’s become synonymous with the whole movement, but it’s also just one option of fuel. It’s sometimes cast as a kissing cousin of Big Oil in that it usually involves refineries to make it, so it’s seen as co-opting (or potentially co-opting) the movement and charging higher rates than even regular gas (which is how it is now).

Now, more than a year after jumping on the greasewagon as an initiate, there are other changes in the larger greasy scene — at least as in certain respects.

As a sign of the strange times that we live in, Governor Schwarzenegger has even taken his Hummer into Lovecraft for a conversion. But even the governor probably won’t be able to do much about legalizing the pumping of veggie oil into converted vehicles, since the EPA still considers it illegal by the fact that it circumvents the road taxes that are built into regular gasoline sales. I’ve heard it best described as being like a head shop: You can buy all the paraphernalia and related components — you just can’t smoke/pump it. Evidently other politicians, too, are taking heed of alternative vehicles lest they get left behind in the fumes.

Also, more businesses have seen the financial potential in the growing numbers of drivers and the enthusiastic grassroots support of the movement. There are now more providers of WVO (e.g. veggiewheels.com, smarterfuels.com, goveggiego.com), some of whom have waitlists of people wanting to receive fuel for about $2/gallon. That’s not as good as getting it free, but not bad either. Due to this demand, even Lovecraft is considering adding this on as an aspect of their business.

And Lovecraft itself has undergone significant changes, which is telling: the most notable being that its founder, Brian, appears to have been bought out and moved on. The shop at Sunset Junction in Silver Lake is no longer a sprawling mechanic’s labyrinth, but rather shows signs of a facelift: cleaner, clearly marked storage areas and bins, etc. I got a new heat exchanger and gas filter change there recently, and for all practical purposes the experience was the same: friendly, funky, professionally done, and quick. But time will tell.

Tacee Webb now runs things and seems to be conducting business in a way that will expand the movement and broaden its appeal (while also keeping an eye on profitability). She’s opened up another shop in Portland, Oregon and has plans to open two new shops, in San Francisco and Seattle. She also plans to increase the company’s visibility by advertising more and creating business partnerships — not exactly franchises — comprised of people who are certified in the process of conversions.”

Regarding Lovecraft’s developmental arc, Jason Kuczinski, a technical jack-of-all-trades at Lovecraft says that, “In this area of LA, we’ve converted about 1,200 cars. And particularly with the Mercedes, we could be reaching a saturation point of people who have these cars and are interested in doing this. But at the same time (really the last 6 months) we’ve been expanding in terms of what we convert: new VWs, TDIs, Jeep Liberties, other diesels, Ford trucks, GMCs, vans, etc. Also, we’re focusing more on mail order and shipping, trying to reach people all over the country, and the world, who want to do this. We’ve also decided to focus on the conversions (as opposed to restoring and selling cars), which is a more reliable and viable business.”

Kuczinski also notes that Lovecraft is seeing the merit of signing larger contracts for converting whole fleets of vehicles, as evidenced recently by a partnership with Carl’s, Jr. in Arizona.

Elsewhere on the fast food front, companies like Dunkin’ Donuts and Kentucky Friend Chicken are leaving the whole transfat (hydrogenated) oil scene behind in favor of pure vegetable oil.

Fast food getting on board? That’s when you know something’s really happening here.

There’s hope yet for a grease-friendly universe.

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