[Editor's note: Every now and then, an event crosses from the world we observe into the world we inhabit. This is one of those situations: Wired magazine contributing editor Mathew Honan—a regular in the office and the pages of the magazine—brought this story to our attention, and, given his personal connection, we thought we'd let him write it instead of siccing one of the regular Autopians on it. We hope you enjoy it.]

Ideas often seem better from ten-thousand feet. But even at that altitude, as his plane tracked across the sky from Atlanta to Oregon, 38-year-old Nathan Abbott knew he was embarking on a fool's errand: A 25-day, cross-country motorcycle journey in November and December. It would be a grueling trip, even on a luxury touring motorcycle like a Honda Gold Wing. Abbott would do it on a Brammo Enertia, the all-electric motorcycle manufactured in Ashland, Oregon. No one had tried pushing the bike's limits that far before. He would have to make frequent stops to power up. His speed would top out at just over 60 mph. It would be epic, but also held the potential for disaster.

The tagline for his weblog summed up the adventure in 99 characters: "One idiot, 3,800 miles, & an electric motorcycle with a 42-mile range. What could possibly go wrong?" The answer to that question would horrify all those who have ever known him.

Nathan Abbott is no idiot, but he is an adventurer. I've known him since high school. After not speaking in more than a decade, we reconnected over Facebook. The guitar-playing metalhead I had known in high school had grown into a true Wired archetype. He was interested in technology, committed to science, and an utter gearhead. His constant Facebook updates indicate that he spends hours online every day. He's the kind of guy who carries both an iPhone and a Motorola Droid. The kind of guy who jumped at the chance to be the first to buy an all-electric motorcycle and drive it across country.

Nathan (or "Nush" as many of his friends affectionately refer to him) had eschewed a traditional career path after college, and instead opted for a life as an entrepreneur and web professional. After toiling for several years as an executive recruiter, the young Atlantan decided he could do better on his own. A habit of throwing epic parties became a successful business, attracting thousands of young professionals who would pay upwards of $150 each at the door, and even more at the bar, to let loose in private venues across the City to Busy to Hate. These events were pure hedonism. At a crowded outdoor St. Patrick's Day party in 2009, I watched an inebriated and shirtless twenty-something nose dive from the back of a chair face-first into the gravel. He staggered to his feet, bloodied, and then wandered back to the bar for another can of beer.

Although Abbott also sipped beer, he stayed sober, constantly checking on head-counts from his staff at the door and monitoring how much alcohol had been sold. He wanted to know why the band wasn't playing yet, and generally acted the businessman amid a bacchanalia. He also made sure the photographers were circulating. Every photo meant money in his pocket, thanks to his other business, Atlanta Illustrated, an events guide to the city and day-after photo site. Loaded up with pictures of Atlanta's young pretty things, the site is a click magnet, and Abbott did well from its advertising revenues.

Yet none of this was enough. He wanted an adventure

Just like the overwhelming majority of the underwhelming segment of America that’s still lucky enough to slur “Hell, at least i’m employed” over a plastic pitcher of cheap draft, these days, I’m a crispy critter. A french-fried, burnt out, workaholic human shell who longs for the good ol’ days, when an 80 hour work wasn’t considered a part-time gig. But all I ever seem to think about is how far the dust & shrapnel might slingshot out into space if a comet smashed the planet like a lightbulb on a baseball bat. This could be a clue. Maybe it’s time for a little break.

That break would come in the form of the Brammo Enertia. The Enertia is to electric motorcycles what the Tesla Roadster is to electric cars. It's designed to not only be functional, but fun. Powered by a permanent magnet AC motor with 13kW peak power and 29.5 ft-lb of torque, with a top speed of about 60 mph. It's sexy to look at, and by all accounts fun to drive. So when the company dropped the price from just under $12,000 to $7,559, that–coupled with a tax break from the federal government–was enough to pique Nush's gadget lust. He called a Best Buy store in Portland, one of the few places the bikes are available, to inquire about buying one. And although it would be easy to ship the bike to Atlanta, he mulled the idea of buying a $99 one-way ticket and driving it back himself.

Do you know where I could find data on the range to speed curve for the Enertia? Maybe a chart or whatever you have? Otherwise, is there a way I can calculate range at a given speed with a rider who's weight is remarkably similar to mine (190lbs)? Additionally, is there an easy way to mount an aerodynamic fairing on the Enertia? Does Brammo sell one as an accessory?

To understand why he would want to drive an electric bike cross-country you have to understand "Nush." Always an iconoclast, he has never fit easily into boxes. In high school, he had long hair, and played guitar in bands, yet wasn't into our high schools drugged-out music scene. He was friends with everyone. Jocks, hippies, rednecks, nerds; everybody loved Nathan. He remains the same unclassifiable creature today. His politics are a mix of conservative and liberal. He doesn't count himself as a member of either party, and though he reads Ayn Rand, he doesn't refer to himself as a libertarian. He bemoaned the Bush administration's disastrous handling of the economy. He doesn't feel Obama is faring much better. He frets about America's debt: It's unsustainable, he argued to me one night in Atlanta, and will lead to disaster. While recognizing the interdependence of the global economy, he is also an America-first kind of guy. A patriot, even, in his own way.

In the Enertia, Abbott saw not only a cool toy and an environmentally responsible alternative to internal combustion engines, but also a way to make a statement about American dependence on foreign oil. Driving this bike across America wouldn't just be an adventure, it would be a statement

America may not have much oil, but we have plenty of coal and natural gas to produce electricity. It’ll sure be nice when we can keep the gazillion dollars we spend on energy HERE in the US, instead of sending it to the middle east so the Saudis can buy gold-plated palaces & fund terrorism.

Ever the science geek, Abbott calculated his journey was going to require about 257 kilowatts of power, which at the rate his utility company Georgia Power charged, would work out to a cost of $11.57. He posited a gas-powered trip on his BMW 540i, on the other hand, would set him back at least $490. "Of course," he noted, "if I did that, I wouldn't be on the road for 25 days. Idiot." In his mind, however, this was just a start. He reflected online about the possibility of using roof-top photovoltaic cells to power the charge. He would have to do it himself, but that was okay. Nush does everything himself.

Existing PV technology won't juice the battery, however, the pace of breakthroughs for PV cells amped up around 2006 when gas prices started diverting venture capital to PV startups. In a few years, PV film or even PV paint might provide some decent recharge while your ride. Still, portable PV will probably never give a full charge. A PV array on your roof would juice the bike. Not a portable solution, obviously, but a good answer to the problem of juicing with coal power from the grid you mentioned earlier. Concentrated solar is where it gets fun. Like frying ants with your magnifying glass except the beam is 750C+ & would instantly vaporize anyone who walked into the light. These things produce a shitpot of power. Check it: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0OkqJw1oTMk And here's one you can build in your yard. It'd be a really bad idea, but you could. I'm damn sure gonna.

Another hitch came at 2 a.m. the morning of Thanksgiving Day in Woodburn, Oregon, where he discovered that his motel lacked an external power outlet. But just then, a stranger showed up with a 25-foot extension cord, and he was able to spend the day on the road. Nothing could stop him.

Nathan Abbott is chilling at the starbucks in Roseberg, OR. Mountain scenery's starting to prettify. Factory tour in Ashland is next, followed by the most dangerous leg of my trek; Grant's Pass. GP has claimed several lives. Snow, isolation, elevation, freezing temps... And then there's the Yeti problem...

Nathan was going to alert me when he was outside of San Francisco, where he and I were to meet up. I was excited to see him and hear about his ride over beers. He wasn't sure how long it would take him to arrive, but I had been expecting him sometime the week after Thanksgiving. He never made it.

On 3:59 a.m., Nov. 27, Nathan's cousin Eric Robertson posted a chilling message to Nush's Facebook page: "Everyone PRAY for Nathan... he has had an accident and is in the Hospital in Portland OR. in the hospital right now... PRAY FOR HIM!!!!"

The previous evening, Abbott was driving southbound on I-5, just outside of Roseberg, Oregon. According to his mother this was to be short leg, he would only going to be on the Interstate for a few miles at most. Nathan himself had noted before he set out that he planned to avoid Interstates, for multiple reasons.

My "safe" range is about 40 miles @ 45mph. Faster than that drains the battery much [more] quickly & reduces range. Have to avoid fast interstates with 90mph trucks & long desolate stretches of highway greater than 35 miles between charges.

But when you're on a motorcycle, it doesn't take a truck doing 90. According to reports from the family and Oregon State Police, just after 7 p.m. on Nov. 27, a 1999 Audi A4 driven by a 20-year-old woman passed an 18-wheeler, and then pulled back into the slow lane while still traveling at speed. She hit Abbott's Enertia from behind at 68 mph, knocking him from the bike and across three lanes of traffic. His high-end helmet saved his life, but his body was broken. An ambulance, that had also been traveling on I-5, arrived at the scene within minutes of the accident and placed him on a respirator. They rushed him to a nearby hospital in Roseberg, where he was airlifted to Portland for further treatment. He had broken his clavicle, hand and a vertebrate in his back. He suffered a severe concussion, and has several contusions on his brain. Following the accident he slipped into a coma, and remained unconscious for several days. He woke up this morning, Monday, Nov. 30. Doctors removed his ventilator, and he was able to identify his mother, who had flown from Georgia to be with him. He's still not out of the woods, but he's getting there.

For some, Abbott's accident called into question the safety of two-wheeled electric vehicles. "I wonder if the bike’s quietness had any effect on the accident," speculated one poster on Brammofan.com, before quickly concluding "but the car probably had its windows up so the lack of engine noise had nothing to do with it." Others have pointed out that because the bike was traveling at or near its top speed on the Interstate, there was no way for Abbott to dart out of the way to safety. "Even if he had been on a 1000-cc sport bike, he might still have only been going 60 mph." says Robert Gladden, director of program services for the Motorcycle Safety Foundation. It's a valid point: No matter how fast your bike can go, it's still not going to win out against a four-wheeler in a wrestling match.

Yet while the Enertia can't move like, say, a Suzuki Hayabusa, it's no underpowered electric scooter. Brammo representative John Farris, while expressing remorse over the accident, is quick to point out that with its 60 mph-engine, it's certainly capable of traveling at highway speeds. Even if he had intended to stay off the Interstate, he was doing nothing wrong by being on one. Nor is it even clear that he could have accelerated out of the way to avoid disaster; according to the Oregon State Police he likely never knew he was hit.

Ultimately, it's not the bike's fault. Nor, for that matter, is it Nathan Abbott's. While his story is unique due to the kind of motorcycle he was riding, people journey across the country on motorcycles every day. He wasn't being reckless. He was simply pushing the limits of being alive, and trying to make it to the future ahead of all the rest of us, 42 miles at a time.

If you would like to donate to fund set up to help Nathan Abbott and his family, you may do so here. Wired will update this story with Abbot's status as it progresses.