When Troy Hurtubise was 19 years old, he met a grizzly bear. It tore across a meadow, hit the brakes, and skidded 20 feet before stopping right in front of him. After a brief interlude, the bear charged Troy and sent him sprawling. Troy, sure he was going to die but determined to go down fighting, got back on his feet and drew his knives. He spoke to the bear, using the words "stick", "knives", and "ass". Whether or not the bear understood, it left Troy alone and wandered back the way it came.
That day, Troy became infatuated with grizzly bears.
One day in college, Troy watched "RoboCop" with some friends. The movie inspired him. Why, he thought, couldn't you make a suit without the science fiction gadgetry, a suit that would protect people who might want to, say, conduct close-quarter bear research.
Troy conducts close-quarter bear research himself, though with black bears. He has sat unprotected but for bear repellent spray on a garbage dump in the dark while black bears roam around him. Repeatedly.
Troy's two infatuations melded, and 12 years and seven suits later (there were two Mark Vs), he won an Ig Nobel for the Ursus Mark VI, which certainly is, as host Marc Abrahams called it, unusual and worth thinking about.
Troy built the first Ursus suits of nothing more than hockey and football equipment and leather. The final Ursus, the Mark VI, weighs 147 pounds, has very little flexibility (it is essentially useless on other than flat terrain), and contains only minimal electronics, such as a tape recorder for recording "any catastrophic last words."
Troy gave a keynote speech on Friday, explaining his history, the suit's history, and the future. And make no mistake, despite his occasional accent and buckskin jacket, Troy is a polished speaker, marketer, and persuader. This ain't no hick.
First, Troy said, you "have to separate science from the sensationalism." He rightly calls the "Project Grizzly" documentary a "piece of garbage, science-wise" for it ignored the true impetus behind the Ursus suits. Troy claims to have performed 10,000 hours of bear research and to have one of the most comprehensive bear research libraries in the world. To him the suit is just another research tool.
Grizzlies, said Troy, have a kill-zone of 150 feet. Should you violate its border, the bear will attack and likely kill you. As a result little is known about grizzly behavior and physiology. Troy wants to change that, and to do so, he must be able to survive in that 150-foot kill-zone.
But why a suit? Why not some chemical repellent such as a bear spray? Especially for Troy, who's claustrophobic.
Troy tested those sprays - the documentary shows him using one on a black bear. The bear did back off, but the movie's narrator intones that the sprays do not work. Troy wanted to clear up any confusion. Bear deterrent sprays cost about $80 and contain three charges, Troy said. He has extensively tested them and he has concluded that "the sprays wouldn't stop a dog, never mind a bear." So why did the bear in the film retreat?
Troy said that although an initial retreat takes place, the animal does not run away but soon returns. On the advice of another researcher, Troy used a shaken can of Coke in the same test. He discovered that the "shpritz" sounds of exploding soda and a deterrent aerosol were equally effective - the chemical deterrents added no benefit. "You're better off with a can of Coke," Troy said, "because a can of Coke costs 60 cents and whatever's left you get to drink it."
In an aside, Troy felt it his duty to try to dispel a few bear myths. If a grizzly attacks you, he told audience members, he has no idea what you should do. He has no idea why he survived when the bear attacked him. The old saw about lying down and playing dead possibly might work if you encounter a mother bear with cubs, but otherwise Troy doesn't recommend it.
If encountering an aggressive black bear, Troy warned the audience that under no circumstances should you play dead because the bear will eat you. You should display aggression yourself: clap, shout, jump up and down, and - should you have to - fight back. "It's better to be a little maimed than dead," Troy concluded, correctly.
Bear research goes beyond animal behavioralists, wildlife management, and guys who purposefully stand in the way of three-ton pickups, however. Close quarter bear research can impact the most seemingly unrelated fields.
NASA, said Troy, is interested in bear hibernation and its possible implications for space travel. Hibernating bears do not suffer muscle wastage over the course of the winter. They may spend as many as seven months in their dens without eating, drinking, exercising or passing wastes. If NASA can learn how and why, it might help researchers discover a way for astronauts to hibernate during a lengthy trip. This isn't so far-fetched: researchers have already used black bear extractions to send mice into a slight torpor. Troy feels that an answer awaits in the grizzly's bloodstream. The grizzly's blood may also hold answers to anorexia and osteoporosis.
But to get that blood, you need to survive the encounter. Troy imagines future research and related his vision in the keynote. He described a scenario in which he, in a suit, enters a grizzly's winter den and tranquilizes the animal which will proceed to attack him until it succumbs to the medication. Once the bear falls asleep, two research teams enter the den. One team draws blood samples and analyzes the bear. The other team sets up an infrared camera system to monitor future activity and, possibly, the birth of cubs.
Troy told his audience that he suspects his suit will help someone win a (real) Nobel Prize within five years. If he can be just a footnote in the winning research, Troy said, that's enough for him.
Still, research costs money. By the time he'd built the Ursus Mark V suits, Troy recognized that in order to pay for further development, he'd have to find a wider audience.
Already, Troy has adapted some of his technology for the market. He has developed a system of compressed air bladders to be used as hockey equipment, including what he claims will be a concussion-proof helmet. Like any good Canadian, Troy thinks of hockey before football, but if his upcoming line of Air Johns equipment takes off in either sport, he could become a wealthy man.
Beyond the Air Johns venture, Troy wants to expand the list of potential end-users of his full suit beyond bear researchers. He decided to build a better suit and to market that product to firefighters, mine rescue outfits, volcanologists, and - like the fictional RoboCop - to police forces for use in SWAT teams and riot control. Troy wants to sell copies of a new suit and use the profits to fund his bear research.
Producing a suit with a wider appeal brings solutions and new problems. In order for such a suit to succeed, it would have to be lighter, self-contained, and flexible enough for the individual inside to be self-reliant - everything that the Ursus Mark VI is not.
Thus did Troy's work give birth to the G-Man Genesis suit. Although it does not yet exist - in fact, it is almost impossible to imagine it existing - Troy said he has worked out all the technical details and has blueprints. To build this suit, he claimed, he needs only $1.2 million, eight months, and some expert help.
Troy brought and showed a promotional film about the G-Man. If it can do what he claims, he will almost certainly be remembered 100 years from now.
The G-Man's features seem to come right out of the comic books:
The G-Man will weigh only 120 pounds, the same as a firefighter's gear, and will allow 85% flexibility. Most impressive of the suit's abilities is what Troy calls the CECS 7000, CECS for Circulatory Endoskeleton Cooling System.
The CECS 7000 is a system Troy invented which uses "a negative heat transformer coil relay unit, capable of dispersing heat from a moving liquid and replacing the expanded heat with a unified and constant coldness applicable to the house alloy's pre-fatigue corridor." Basically, it keeps metal comfortable to the touch.
Troy demonstrated the CESC 7000 in the promotional film. The system kept a metal tube subjected to the heat of a number of gas torches comfortable to the touch. The metal could be handled a few seconds after the burners were turned off. Troy said the G-Man will function normally up to 3000 degrees Fahrenheit. While Troy's word was the only proof that the system worked as he claimed, the system impressed the audience nonetheless.
Troy came to Boston not only to accept his Ig Nobel, but to seek engineers for the G-Man Genesis project. He wants to hire six engineering experts to help him build the thing. He plans to begin work on January 1, 1999, and to take his first "test flight" on August 17.
Unfortunately, the G-Man does not yet have a Web page we can direct you to. Should you wish to contact Troy, however, you can reach him at troy@g-man.ca
I wouldn't put any money down, betting that Troy will fully succeed. I have no doubt, however, that if anyone can do this in the next ten years, it's Troy.
