America’s New Inventions to Survive a Winter Blackout Are Shocking Everyone
It is three in the morning on the third night, and the thermostat on the wall says forty-one degrees. Not outside. Inside.
The furnace has been dead since Sunday. The gas is still on, but the blower that moves the heat needs electricity and there isn’t any. Outside it is eleven degrees, the road is closed, and the utility is giving estimates in days.
And in the middle of the living room floor of an ordinary suburban house, there is a tent.
Not a camping tent. A six-sided insulated dome about the size of a small shed, and inside it a family of four is asleep. The father got up an hour ago and took his jumper off while he was doing it, because it was too warm in there to wear it.
The interior of that shelter is running somewhere around thirty to forty degrees above the air in the room it is standing in. There is no heater inside it. No electricity, no fuel, no battery, no moving part of any kind. It went up in about sixty seconds, by one person, with no tools. It folds into a bag that lives in the garage eleven months of the year.
It cost three hundred and fifty dollars.
America’s New Inventions to Survive a Winter Blackout Are Shocking Everyone
It is three in the morning on the third night, and the thermostat on the wall says forty-one degrees. Not outside. Inside.
The furnace has been dead since Sunday. The gas is still on, but the blower that moves the heat needs electricity and there isn’t any. Outside it is eleven degrees, the road is closed, and the utility is giving estimates in days.
And in the middle of the living room floor of an ordinary suburban house, there is a tent.
Not a camping tent. A six-sided insulated dome about the size of a small shed, and inside it a family of four is asleep. The father got up an hour ago and took his jumper off while he was doing it, because it was too warm in there to wear it.
The interior of that shelter is running somewhere around thirty to forty degrees above the air in the room it is standing in. There is no heater inside it. No electricity, no fuel, no battery, no moving part of any kind. It went up in about sixty seconds, by one person, with no tools. It folds into a bag that lives in the garage eleven months of the year.
It cost three hundred and fifty dollars.