Skip to main contentSometimes the exhaust from Michael Menzies' tractor smells like apple pie. Occasionally, it has a popcorn scent, and every now and then it gives off the distinct aroma of French--er, Freedom fries.
"Sometimes when I'm out working, it smells just like Chinese food," says Menzies, an Estacada farmer. "I'll look around and wonder who's cooking before I realize where it's coming from."
In fact, the source of the fuel sloshing around in the tank of Menzies' tractor is not an Arabian oil well, but a deep fryer.
That's not as strange as it sounds. When Rudolf Diesel invented the engine that bears his name more than a century ago, he designed it to run on peanut oil. Though diesel engine technology has evolved over the years, the idea still works. Just take vegetable oil, add ethanol and a dash of lye, and voil‡!--you've got biodiesel, the fastest-growing alternative fuel source in the United States.
Environmentalists love biodiesel because it delivers the same power as conventional diesel but releases 80 percent less carbon dioxide into the air--a whopping eight tons of CO2 per year for the average car. It also solves a perennial problem for restaurant owners--what to do with all that rancid fat. Plus, biodiesel advocates point out, nobody has ever gone to war over fryer grease.
For the time being, most Portlanders get their biodiesel fix from Albina Fuel. "People have said that they drive in from Hillsboro just to buy biodiesel," says Jeff Arntson, manager of Albina's Tesoro Alaska station, where a gallon of a biodiesel blend goes for a couple of dimes more than conventional diesel. "Business started off slow, but it's really starting to build."
Arntson's station is one of only 50 in the country where you can fill 'er up with biodiesel, but what you get at the pump isn't quite the real deal. Pure biodiesel (or B100) can corrode rubber hoses in older cars and is expensive to produce from virgin oil, so gas companies blend it with regular diesel for drive-through sales. The result is B20 (20 percent biodiesel, 80 percent conventional diesel), which is easier on the pocketbook and safe in all diesel engines. Purists can still buy B100 from Albina, but only in 55-gallon drums.
Arntson says he sells about 1,000 gallons of the fuel every week at his Northeast Broadway station. In total, Americans went through about 15 million gallons of biodiesel in 2002, according to the National Biodiesel Board, and that number is expected to jump to 40 million this year. The U.S. government is one of the biodiesel industry's biggest patrons: The U.S. Postal Service used 500,000 gallons alone last year.
Biodiesel does have some disadvantages. First, B100 tends to gel up in cold temperatures, which means it's not a reliable all-weather fuel. There's also a price issue: B100 from Albina costs $1 more per gallon than regular diesel. B20 is cheaper, but typically runs 20 cents per gallon higher than conventional diesel, although the two were only 10 cents apart when WW checked earlier this week.
"We've been trying to keep it as competitive as possible," Arntson says pensively. "Maybe it's a bit too competitive right now."
Still, biodiesel has VW busloads of green-leaning consumers excited, including a group of Portlanders who have formed the GoBiodiesel co-op to distribute the fuel to members on the cheap. A $50 fee grants the aspiring biodiesel consumer lifetime access to fuel made by the co-op, which they plan to sell at cost. GoBiodiesel's processor is just weeks from being ready to go, and the group busy recruiting new members (current total: 30) and hunting for free oil sources.
Menzies is so pumped about biodiesel that he runs all his tractors on it, and has designed his own biodiesel processor, using scrap parts from his 21-acre farm. "When it's running, we expect that we should be able to make it for around 50 cents a gallon," he reports. Although he hopes to produce his own sunflower oil eventually, Menzies has found an interim supplier of free vegetable oil: a local doughnut shop.
"The restaurants are very excited about helping," says Brian Jamison, one of GoBiodiesel's founders. "For them, it's a choice between putting their oil toward making dog food or toward sustainable, green fuel."
By law, co-op members have to register with ODOT and pony up what they owe the state in lost gas taxes each year (about 27 cents per gallon). But co-op members gladly trade the hassle for the peace of mind they get from using eco-friendly fuel. Raves Jamison, "My engine is better, quieter, and it's clean."
For more information on the GoBiodiesel co-op, visit www.gobiodiesel.org.
WWeek 2015