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| Photo: J. Bryan Lowder, Fermilab |
In pursuit of high velocities, a
group of Fermilab physicists
has found an unusual outlet:
They race a dragon boat.
The team, known as the
Draggin’ Runners, met at
Pottawatomie Park in St.
Charles, Ill., one Sunday in June
to put their acceleration skills
to work, skimming the waters in
a 40-foot-long boat that resembles
a Chinese dragon.
This form of racing began
about 2300 years ago as a religious
rite in Southern China.
Pairs of teams race head-to-head,
striving to be the first to
grab a flag at the end. Each
crew consists of 18 paddlers,
a flag catcher, and a drummer.
For this year’s annual “Pride
of the Fox River-Fest” competition,
Fermilab’s boat carried
postdocs, graduate students,
and scientists from various
parts of the lab.
All but five of the Draggin’
Runners were rookies, Barbara
Alvarez among them. A graduate
student with the lab’s CDF
experiment who watched the
race last year, she said that while
the activity was physically demanding,
it was also “great fun.”
The Runners were founded
in 2001 by J.J. Schmidt of CDF,
who proposed the idea to his
friends as a “fun large-group
activity,” and the team’s attitude
reflected this cheerfully competitive
spirit. Despite their lack of
experience, the Runners won
their qualifying match and barely
lost in the finals. Following the
race, Schmidt said the team had
been “in sync,” and confidently
stated, “We’ll be back.”
J. Bryan Lowder
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| Photo: Jack Furlong, Fermilab |
An overgrown zebra mussel
population at Fermilab received
a rude awaking when operations
engineers treated the lab’s
water cooling system in early
June to remove nearly 4000
pounds of mussels.
Foreign to the Midwest and
without any natural predators
in the region, zebra mussels at
Fermilab can become problematic
when they coat the inside
of the water cooling system
pipes. One zebra mussel can
produce more than a million
offspring each year, says
Fermilab’s Randy Ortgiesen,
head of the Facilities
Engineering Services Section
(FESS). “If left untreated,
they will eventually clog up the
pipes, creating a huge problem,”
he says.
To remove the zebra mussels,
engineers injected a chemical
called EVAC into an intake pipe
and opened hydrants along
the system to draw the chemical
through the pipes. EVAC
works by coating the gills of
the mussels, effectively eradicating
them. EVAC is not toxic
when used in low quantities
and does not harm fish and birds.
FESS engineers first treated
the mussels in May of 2006
when they removed and flushed
more than 15,000 pounds of
them from the system. This
spring’s treatment, which took
a little more than 24 hours, was
a follow-up measure to eliminate
any zebra mussel offspring,
called veligers, that made it into
the system from the ponds.
Fermilab engineer Anne
Lucietto says the treatment
program has been successful
so far. “It’s something we’re
going to have to keep up with,”
she says. “It’s been a challenge,
but I think we’ve won this
round.”
Amelia Williamson
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| Photo courtesy of Alexandre Telnov |
What? An intellectual game
show. Where? Based in Russia
and played all around the
world. When? Since 1986.
The show, What? Where?
When? challenges a team of six
to solve riddles and puzzles,
using common knowledge and
logic, in 60-second brainstorming
sessions. The questions
are submitted by members of
a TV audience that numbers in
the tens of millions. In addition,
a competitive version is played
by more than 5000 ranked
teams throughout the world.
For the past two years,
Princeton University particle
physicist Alexandre Telnov has
been one of six players handpicked
for the US national team
that competes in the world
championship, known as the
Nations Cup.
“One reason the show is so
popular is because of the spirit
of freedom that permeates
the game,” says Telnov. It was
the first live television program
aired in the Soviet Union—no
small feat in a country that,
at the time, had government controlled
broadcasts and only
two national TV channels.
Telnov recalls that when he
was about 11, the show estimated
the size of its Moscow
audience by asking people to
briefly turn off their TV sets.
This decreased the load on the
electrical system and sped up
the turbines in the power plants;
based on the resulting change
in the frequency of the current,
it was determined that 42.7
percent of households were
tuned in.
“The questions really cover
the entire spectrum of human
knowledge, except they do not
require anything that only a
specialist would know,” Telnov
says. For that reason, it’s important
to have people with diverse
backgrounds and expertise on
a team. His includes an accelerator
physicist with a background
in electrical engineering; a
woman with an MBA from the
University of Chicago; two computer
scientists; and a retired
Russian language professor.
The Nations Cup is a weeklong
extravaganza that attracts
more television cameras than
teams; competitors become
local celebrities. Telnov declined
an invitation to join this year’s
US team, which will compete in
Azerbaijan; however, his Silicon
Valley-based team, the reigning
US champion, will compete in
a separate international championship
in Russia.
“It’s not, by any means, a
major part of my life—not my
reason for living,” says Telnov.
More important, he says, are
his soon-to-be-published work
on charge-parity violation and
his participation on the executive
committee of the Stanford
Linear Accelerator Center
Users’ Organization, for which
he lobbies in Washington, DC.
Telnov says he does appreciate
the time he has spent
playing What? Where? When?,
both for the fun of it and for
the way it has sharpened his
problem-solving skills. “Gaining
experience working in a team
of six, brainstorming solutions
in less than 60 seconds, has
great real-world applications,”
he says.
More information is at
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/What_Where_When.
Ken Kingery
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| Photos: Aristeidis Karalis |
Peter Fisher was in the audience
when Marin Soljacic, a fellow
physicist at the Massachusetts
Institute of Technology, gave
a lunchtime talk about a technology
that could transform
consumer electronics.
“It was just a theory talk,”
Fisher says, “and I wasn’t really
paying attention. But at the
end he started talking about
what it might look like. I thought,
‘We could build that, easily.’”
That’s how Fisher, a particle
physicist whose normal preoccupations
run to dark matter,
neutrino oscillations, and cosmic
rays, became part of a team
that demonstrated how to
transmit electrical power without
wires.
Their paper, published June
7 in Science Express, made
quite a splash. The initial experiments
successfully lit up a
60-watt bulb from a power
source more than two meters
away (see photos). But the
potential applications are much
broader: Smaller, lighter laptops
that never run out of
juice. Cell phones that start
charging the moment you walk
into a room. Cordless table
lamps: Plop them anywhere!
“The idea is to get rid of
cables and batteries,” Fisher says.
“We found this undergraduate
named Robert Moffatt who did
most of the work” with the aid
of graduate students Aristeidis
Karalis and Andre Kurs, he says.
“ Once we got going it took
maybe three months to build
the thing. It’s not at all sophisticated;
it’s something almost
anyone who had an interest in
experimental physics could
think up and execute.”
In fact, the idea dates back
to the late 1800s, when Nikola
Tesla experimented with the
wireless transmission of electrical
power.
Here’s how the team’s method
—called WiTricity—would work:
Put a loop of coiled wire up
near the ceiling and run an
oscillating current through it to
create a magnetic field. This is
your power source for everything
in the room.
The magnetic field must
oscillate at exactly the right frequency
to resonate with similar
coils in your computer and other
gadgets. It pushes the electrons
within the coiled wire back and
forth, as if pushing a kid on a
swing, creating a current that
can be used to do work.
Fisher says it’s not the first
time he has ventured out of
basic research to tackle something
practical. “About 10 years
ago we had a scheme for tracking
nuclear submarines that
we talked to the Navy about.
That didn’t go anywhere,”
he says. “There was a guy who
wanted to inflate tires with
vinegar and baking soda. He
paid me about $5000 to convince
him it wasn’t possible.”
But now, he says, it looks
like he’s found a project that
could fly.
“We don’t have a business
model yet,” Fisher says. “But
just look at WiFi. If you can build
something where the transmitter
is $200, and the receivers
can fit into existing equipment
and cost $30, people would
buy them.”
Glennda Chui
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| Photo: Ken Kingery |
When objects weighing thousands
of pounds have to be
moved, the call goes out to riggers—
specialized teams that
work with hoists and cranes.
They’re required to wear proper
safety gear; and at some point,
the riggers at SLAC decided to
make a statement with their
helmets.
“We always try to wear the
same helmets,” says rigger Scot
Johnson. “It helps us identify
each other on the job site and
is also a form of solidarity.”
The group first began following
the helmet design of lead
rigger Dave “Davey” Engesser,
who has been at SLAC the
longest and knows all the ins
and outs of hoisting and rigging.
“He has a mind like an elephant,”
says Johnson. “He can remember where he put equipment
in the grass from 20
years ago.”
Engesser began wearing an
American flag helmet to work
every day, and soon the rest of
the riggers followed. When
Engesser’s helmet had to be
retired because of chips and
cracks, the whole team ordered
white helmets. Stickers are not
allowed on helmets because
they can hide defects, so wearing
the same color is one
way the team can express its
camaraderie.
No one remembers how the
tradition began or who came
up with the idea. “It just sort
of ended up that way,” says
Johnson.
Recently Engesser went back
to an American flag-style helmet,
though the rest of the team still
tends to wear plain white.
“He just likes to get saluted,”
Johnson jokes.
Ken Kingery
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| Source: triumf |
The problem: How to get short-lived
radioactive drugs from
the nuclear physics lab that
makes them to a hospital 2.5
kilometers away, on the far
side of a busy campus, in two
minutes flat.
At the University of British
Columbia in Vancouver, the
solution is the Rabbit—an old-fashioned
pneumatic tube that
zips freshly made radiopharmaceuticals
at 75 kilometers per
hour from triumf national laboratory
to the university’s Health
Sciences Center.
Pneumatics–using pressurized
gas to do work–is a concept
dating back to Hero of
Alexandria in 60 A.D. Pneumatic
tubes were first used in the
1800s to carry mail across
European cities; Paris alone had
467 kilometers of tubing in its
system. People even envisioned
a future in which pneumatic
tubes transported people across
the globe. The tubes are still
used, more modestly, to transport
small parcels in banks,
hospitals, and office buildings.
triumf’s Rabbit has been
making the hop across campus
since 1983. As part of a collaboration
between the laboratory
and the medical center, radioactive
isotopes are created in triumf’s cyclotron, which
is dedicated to this work, and
processed in a chemistry lab
on site. Then they’re rushed to
the hospital for use in Positron
Emission Tomography (PET),
a technique that allows doctors
to create real-time images of
the brain at work.
Why the haste? The radioactive
isotopes have half-lives
as short as 20 minutes; if a
shipment is delayed, the drug
will be useless. “It can take
quite a long time to meet regulations
for the transportation of
dangerous goods—to package,
carry out the paperwork, and
actually get it to the place you
want it to go,” says Mike Adam,
head of PET Chemistry at
triumf.
Although pulling thousands
of meters of tubing through
existing pipes beneath
Wesbrook Mall Road was difficult,
and the Rabbit’s route has
shifted as the campus grows
through construction, the results
are worth it, Adam says: “The
system is a great advantage in
our research on cancer and
movement disorders.”
Ken Kingery
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ATTENTION SYMManiacs!
Another symmetry challenge:
Particle sudoku
Sudoku is so 2005, but this logic puzzle still has plenty of fans. Invented in 1979 by an American,
the puzzle really took off in Japan. In the years since, it has distracted aficionados daily, appearing in
the pages of newspapers worldwide alongside the traditional crossword puzzle.
But have you played particle sudoku? To solve this puzzle, all you need to do is make sure that each
row, column, and 4x4 sub-grid contains each of the 16 observed particles usually listed as the components
of the Standard Model. Those are the six quarks: u, d, s, c, t, b; the six leptons: e, μ, τ, νe, νμ, ντ; and
the four force carriers: γ, g, W, Z. There is only one solution to this puzzle, but be warned: Don’t
expect to solve this in five minutes. And don’t let those pesky neutrinos confuse you!
David Harris
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In the April 2007 edition a letter was printed debunking the idea of antimatter-powered spaceships. The
argument was that since antimatter is so difficult and expensive to produce, this use is impractical.
But do we know that our present method of making antiprotons is the only one possible? Or might
some future scientist find a different way to produce or capture antimatter? After all, at one time
transistors were too expensive to be used in computer memories.
Ed Foster, Geneva, Illinois
Dave McGinnis, a physicist at Fermilab, responds:
Obviously, I cannot predict the future and it might be possible that some future scientist will discover
a more efficient way to produce antimatter. But the transistor analogy is more the exception than
the rule. In the case of antiproton production, a better analogy would be to ask the car industry to
develop a vehicle that can get 5 billion miles per gallon.
The current state-of-the-art efficiency for making antiprotons is about 0.0000004 percent. At
Fermilab, it requires 20 megawatts of electric power to produce an 80 milliwatt antiproton beam.
This is about 10 times better than it was 15 years ago, but it is still a drop in the bucket compared to
what would be needed for powering a spaceship.
Nevertheless, antiprotons are an exceptional scientific tool. They have been used to make very
important discoveries at Fermilab and CERN.
Regarding “Masters of improv” (symmetry, April 2007) I have one question. The article quotes former
Fermilab director Leon Lederman as saying, “…without explanation, we took the student’s experiment
apart. He started crying, as he should have.” Was the student compensated for his loss? Or do
Fermilab and its former director consider it to be great to dismantle the hard work of a graduate
student?
Stan Vassilev
Leon Lederman responds:
The event took place in the 1950s, about 15 years before Fermilab’s existence. The student’s thesis
experiment was 70 percent and 12 hours of work from achieving what was needed to make one of
the most dramatic discoveries of the decade. Marcel [Weinrich] quickly got over his tears and
became a co-author of the discovery paper. It became his PhD thesis, probably saving him at least
a year. It also ensured his future in particle physics.
How many grad students have the opportunity to participate in the excitement and scientific thrill
of a major discovery?
In the story “Universal Accord” (symmetry, March 2007), an analogy describing the difference in
power corresponding to 120 orders of magnitude was incorrect; it was removed from the online version
of the story.
Letters can be submitted via letters@symmetrymagazine.org
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