WiFi, Portland style

Volunteer revolutionaries are building Portland's wireless Internet, from the grass roots to the rooftops
Thursday, April 07, 2005
Erin Hoover Barnett

Mellow electronic music pulses from the coffeehouses where Portlanders come to unwire.

On the porch at Vivace in Northwest, a wavy-haired doctoral student Googles for the chemical structure of acetylcholine. Inside, a software engineer with glossy lips instant-messages a friend.

Wafting in the evening air, a radio signal carries high-speed Internet access from the cafe's back-office computer to these patrons' laptops, transporting the customers into the virtual surf, free of charge, no wires attached.

Got WiFi?

This place does.

Some think Web surfing in public is obnoxious: "Could you just lose the techno gear for ONE MINUTE?" But the contagion is about the power trip. Reading book reviews online while in the stacks at Powell's. Searching movie listings in the South Park Blocks when it starts to rain. E-mailing a work report while lounging at Urban Grind.

And if the Wi-Fi, or wireless fidelity, trend bothers you, get used to it. City leaders just announced that, as early as next year, a private company could be blasting low-cost wireless Internet access from the sidewalks to the buses to the buildings citywide.

Sure, Wi-Fi is taking off across the country. Just go to a major airport and watch the laptop-toting business travelers. But what sets Portland apart is its grass-roots, do-it-yourself approach.

Behind the citywide Wi-Fi project, behind many of the hangouts where laptoppers can now surf the Web for free, is a bunch of geeks creating Wi-Fi systems from recycled computers over soda and microbrews in the basement of a Southeast Portland home.

Aaron Baer motors home from his Mentor Graphics job, trades his work wear for bike shorts and pedals over to Tom Higgins' massive old Craftsman on Southeast Alder.

Joe McCann, 48, a recently unemployed network systems engineer, and Higgins, 40, a laid-off software developer turned stay-at-home dad, are at the cluttered kitchen table discussing the equipment McCann needs to set up Wi-Fi at a gallery that weekend.

"You build it," McCann tells Higgins, "and I'll haul it over there and install it."

Baer, 31, grabs a slice of greasy pizza and hunts for a napkin.

"I'm thinking pretty much by summertime we'll light up Southeast Portland," he says.

These are a few of the guys from the Personal Telco Project. This all-volunteer nonprofit got its start in late 2000 setting up free wireless "hot spots" at cafes, bookstores, parks -- nearly two years before Starbucks began offering Wi-Fi for a price.

More than four years later, Personal Telco's hot-spot roster has shot past 140. Not only can visitors at these hot spots use Wi-Fi for free, Personal Telco also does not charge the cafe or bookstore owner for installation.

Personal Telco's mission is simple: Free Wi-Fi for the people.

"Some of what we do has been so successful because we embody the Portland spirit," says Nigel Ballard.

Ballard (who coined "got wi-fi?" from the milk ads ) helped city officials see how Wi-Fi could bring the Internet to more people -- and keep Portland on the map of tech-savvy places.

A coalition, including Ballard and city and Portland Development Commission leaders, plans to seek bids this summer from private companies to build, own and manage a citywide Wi-Fi network by some time next year.

If it works, the project would give a low-cost alternative to buying Internet access from such companies as Comcast or Qwest. Such companies could bid to create the network or contract to provide Internet services within the network. But city leaders think the heightened competition would drive down the cost.

Personal Telco, as a bunch of volunteers, doesn't want the citywide job. But the group would keep creating free Wi-Fi spots, since the citywide offering would come at a price.

Marshall Runkel, aide to City Commissioner Erik Sten, a Wi-Fi backer, says Personal Telco's free Wi-Fi hot spots are what pushed Portland into the top ranks of the nation's most unwired cities.

Says Runkel, "They're the Robin Hoods of new technology."

Back at Tom Higgins' house, a few more guys arrive, and they head for the basement to do the nitty-gritty behind their magic.

Michael Weinberg, russet sideburns framing his 25-year-old baby face, camps out on a sofa. He flips open his laptop and pulls up photos of the Labrador/boxer mix he's getting. He's a freelance clothing designer and writer who helps with PTP's grant writing and promotion.

Baer straddles a folding chair at a monitor and inserts an extra networking card in a desktop computer, among those that Personal Telco saved from a landfill.

Baer's mission: Install software telling the computer to route a high-speed connection from a modem to an access point. The access point -- usually a slim black box with two antennas -- is what projects the high-speed connection over radio waves to WiFi-ready laptops.

"Yeah, now we're talkin'," says Baer at an early sign of success.

"Oooh, yeah," says Weinberg, joining the guys gathered around.

In their spare time, the Personal Telco guys go to the hangouts that have requested their services. The places purchase their own high-speed Internet connection. PTP asks that they select an Internet provider that permits sharing its connection. The PTP guys install their rejiggered computers to create the WiFi.

PTP does its work free and, in turn, expects that the hangout will not charge anyone to use the WiFi. It's a boon for the hangouts. Free WiFi lures customers. But the hangouts' interest in Personal Telco's service is also about that "pro-local" Portland ethic.

Personal Telco operates like a group hug -- the hangouts promote Personal Telco, which in turn lists them on its Web site. The nonprofit eventually plans to network the hot spots and offer a calendar of events at those sites and music by local bands.

John Mitchell just got Personal Telco-powered WiFi at Gladstone Coffee and Gallery , at 3813 S.E. Gladstone St. It took awhile to get a Personal Telco volunteer out to the shop, and he had to make a second trip when his hardware failed. But that's sometimes part of the grass-roots package.

Mitchell says coffeehouses always have been a place where people come for information. Makes him think of the handbills posted in public houses during the American Revolution.

"This is the exact same thing, but with new technology," Mitchell says. "I like being involved with that."

Businesses are shuttered for the evening in the light-industrial district around the eastside Urban Grind when some 25 PTP geeks arrive for their monthly meeting.

These meetings gather the larger membership -- tallying well over 100 -- to trade information and, well, brag a bit. On this night, the big talk is about Personal Telco's latest phase, beyond hot spots. Call it Operation Rooftop.

It's where PTP members mount rooftop antennas to create clouds, emanating from a purchased high-speed Internet connection, that rain free wireless access over several blocks. It's a mini-model of what the citywide project would do. And it's what a newcomer at this meeting calls "gettin' on the roof and makin' it happen."

Baer stands up and shares his adventure mounting an antenna atop an apartment building.

"It's a really awesome install. It looks really nice up on the roof," he says. "Mike and Troy were up on the roof with me. . . . It's a cool node."

Last week, Meyer Memorial Trust awarded Personal Telco $14,752 -- a "small grant" in Meyer Memorial's parlance, a windfall to Personal Telco, which last year operated on $3,000 in donations.

PTP will use the grant to pump free Wi-Fi over the gentrifying North Mississippi Avenue business district. It'll radiate eight to 12 blocks from a Mississippi and Shaver rooftop antenna and a high-speed connection donated by Stephouse, a local Internet company co-founded by a 26-year-old, self-taught techie. PTP plans to start work in May and finish by year's end.

Meyer Memorial's Doug Stamm said that a clincher for the trust was PTP's ability to spread Internet access to people who typically lack it. To that end, PTP will offer seminars to teach neighbors to use and eventually maintain their free Wi-Fi network.

Baer, who says he sticks with PTP because he's good at the work and wants to contribute to the community, is psyched about the North Mississippi project. He's already scrambled up on one of the rooftops. He doesn't see the moss or sweat the heights. He just sees the free Wi-Fi potential.

"It has the most gorgeous line of sight."

Erin Hoover Barnett: 503-294-5011; ehbarnett@news.oregonian.com

 

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