Hyperloop and Hyperbole
- Josh Stephens
- Jan 16, 2016
- 4 min read
On December 21, the Falcon 9 rocket launched from Cape Canaveral, deployed a suite of communications satellites, and, in impressive fashion, came back down to Earth. Using its engines to dull the force of gravity, it survived re-entry and hit its football-field sized landing pad like a Tesla backing into a garage.
The Falcon 9's return from the heavens was an early Christmas miracle, courtesy of Elon Musk, one of the world's few celebrity engineers. It is a product of SpaceX, Musk's pioneering private space-travel company based in Hawthorne. He can now add space to the list of fields - from electric cars, to battery power, to credit card payments - that his ventures have conquered. (A similar launch Jan. 17 didn't go quite so well.)
Next, Musk hopes to revolutionize long-distance transit. That one may make rocket science look like child's play.
For the uninitiated: Hyperloop is - depending on whom you ask - either the name brand or the generic concept behind the next generation of magnetic levitation technology. It's envisioned as either a train or as a set of individual pods that, unlike conventional maglev (which never really caught on, except on a 21-mile line in Shanghai), would run through depressurized tubes. Yes, tubes. As in under the ground.
The technology makes intuitive sense. It uses the estimable power of magnetic propulsion while avoiding the mortal enemy of all moving things: air resistance. With potential speeds north of 600 miles per hour, the "hyper" is obvious; whether "loop" refers to the circular tube or to the idea that these things will be encircling us sooner than you can say "California High Speed Rail" is but one of its delightful mysteries.
