alternative energy clothes dryer

Being the summer of 2008, with gas prices soaring and terms such as “green” and “carbon footprint” being batted about, I thought I would write about my wind/solar powered clothes dryer. It uses the sun and the wind in their most rudimentary forms to dry my clothes. It works in summer and winter. It even works on cloudy days and on days when the air is still. It is a relatively inexpensive piece of equipment that I put together myself.

Built of 2 “T” shaped poles spaced roughly 25 feet apart it has 100 feet of clothesline (oops I gave it away) woven back and forth between the poles, four times. This is by no-means new technology. On the other hand it does seem to be forgotten technology. On suburban Long Island, a clothesline in the yard is as archaic as a TV antenna on the roof. Americans have grown averse to, literally, airing their laundry in public. It brings to mind Thoreau’s remarks in Walden about how a man would sooner walk into town with a broken leg than with a patch on his pants:

“Who could wear a patch, or two extra seams only, over the knee? Most behave as if they believed that their prospects for life would be ruined if they should do it. It would be easier for them to hobble to town with a broken leg than with a broken pantaloon.”

There are no limits to the mortification that I endure using my clothesline, especially when the neighbors are entertaining guests by the pool. And anyway, who has 15-20 minutes to actually go outside to string up their clothes. (I do) It goes back to my reason for blogging -this constant rush past living one’s life, in order to have time for the important stuff – what is the important stuff?

I wake up on a cloudless January morning, escorted by my dog, I take a basket of wet clothes out to the clothesline. Walking to the clothesline with me is one of the thankless jobs that my dog performs on a regular basis. The sun is low in the sky, the trees are bare and the air is cold and crisp. My fingers start to freeze-up from the wetness in the clothes as I string them on the line. Even when the temperature doesn’t rise above freezing, the clothes will dry. At first, my wet towels and shirts freeze-up, as stiff as boards. But the low humidity in the air pulls out the wetness, and within an hour or so the clothes are flapping in the breeze. Before it gets dark, I take another 10-15 minutes to bring in the laundry. Everything doesn’t always dry in the winter so it might need five minutes in the dryer (yea, I own a dryer) to get out the dampness.

Chop wood, carry water, hang out the clothes.