The Full Story
Hi, my name is Paul. I’m the Lead Critter here at Fungaia, and delighted to share a little backstory with you.
When this project began, my goal was to create a small laminar flow hood I could mount in my homemade truckbed camper and run off a small solar system, allowing me keep up with lab work and clone wild mushrooms while I was on the road. I had little money to seriously entertain such frivolous fantasies, so it went to the back burner like so many other fiendish schemes.
With a few successful attempts at cloning wild mushrooms—and quite a few unsuccessful ones—it quickly became clear to me that the chances of salvaging a foraged specimen precipitously decline the longer it takes to get it to the lab. Some species, like the formidable Lawyer’s Wig (Coprinus comatus) seem to deliberately defy such attempts, mischievously deliquescing into black ooze and leaking out of the bag in the car.
As time went on, I was wholly engulfed in the many challenges of running a small mushroom company. I was waiting tables in the evenings and devoting every spare moment and dollar to my fledgling Fungaia. The portable flow hood fantasy gained greater appeal. I could envision weeks-long excursions in exotic locales, punctuated by periodic tailgate lab work, and a whole new horizon for my aspirations to vagabondery. I dreamed of becoming a traveling mycologist.
I began testing my theories and experimenting with some basic designs. Eventually, inevitably, my research led me down the rabbit hole of the do-it-yourself lithium ion battery pack. With the unparalleled energy density of these remarkable new batteries, I wondered, could I build a flow hood small and light enough to carry by hand? My mind was aflame with the possibilities.
Despite my better judgment, I had committed to the idea. When I really should have been buying fresh undies or perhaps saving up to move out of the backyard and into an apartment like a normal adult, instead I was buying top-of-the-line HEPA filters and lithium cells and pouring over spec sheets of low voltage, high-pressure fans.
There is a phenomenon I call the “cascade of risk,” which is perhaps not unlike what mothers of fear of “gateway drugs,” and related to the fallacy of sunken value: when you get comfortable taking one risk, the next seems less threatening, and the next, until you’re gambling your last dollar on some hair-brained scheme and sloppily soldering dangerous components in your threadbare underwear in someone else’s garage at 3 o’clock in the morning.
Nonetheless, I cobbled together my first prototype using some scrap wood and angle iron and, to my surprise, it worked flawlessly. I should have been delighted, but instead I began to feel nervous. It was no longer a plaything of my whimsy, it was a real-life thing in the world. I felt I had an obligation to it, like a parent, to protect and foster it to maturity.
There is solace in destitution; to quote the Bard, “when y’ain’t got nothin’, you got nothin’ to lose.” Success, on the other hand, carries with it the burden of failure. The more I realized I may have stumbled across something of consequence, the more the possible consequences became apparent.
My vivid imagination began conjuring all of the ways this contraption could get me in trouble. I’ll reach a bare hand into fire without hesitation, but when it comes to litigation I’ll flee faster than a housefly. To make matters worse, everyone I solicited for advice said the same thing: talk to a lawyer.
I called around and found the most reputable IP law firm in the region and scheduled a consultation with one of the partners. I wanted to be as prepared as possible, so I wrote an extensively researched, detailed patent specification, complete with my own technical drawings, draft claims and a witnessed, notarized invention disclosure and sent it to the attorney for review.
I think I he really didn’t know what to do with me. In the end, I paid a lot more than I could afford for some pretty second-rate advice, but at least I got a second pair of eyes and a professional patent search out of the deal: no one has made anything quite like it… at least not yet.
Meanwhile, I was pouring over the new prototype. I wanted it to be sexy, not just functional. I envisioned the eMac of microbiology. Like any good first iteration, it was fabulously overwrought, with a steel frame that could withstand a tornado, a sleek, gasketed aluminum housing and enough lithium batteries and fans to blow Odysseus all the way back to Ithaca.
It’s a worthy prototype, especially considering I made it using stock components and a 50-year-old spotty MIG welder. It has worked wonderfully and served me well on a number of field expeditions, but it’s bulky, it weighs a ton, it’s comically overpowered and the assembly was needlessly complex and more than a little frustrating.
In the months since, I filed the patent application, solicited custom orders to my specifications from the manufacturers of the primary components, and began building a facility where I can assemble, test and ship the flow hoods. The latter has been the most involved task of all, especially as I’ve financed construction myself by the slender means of my small, donation-based business.
Up until a few weeks ago, I have exclusively run my business out of a 350-square-foot former coal chute adjacent to the boiler room of a WWII-era Army hangar. I knew I would need more space, but I never want to be caught holding a lease I can’t afford. So I took the next logical step and tracked down a good deal on a second-hand insulated semi trailer and retrofitted it with doors, windows, and all the trimmings of civility. I installed new electrical service, an off-grid water system and a shop that will be sufficient for full-scale production.
I’ve been working with the machine shop down the street, who’ve been good to me throughout the years, to fabricate the pieces that will be impractical for me to make in-house. Using the new, custom fan and filter components, I’ve begun assembling four new production-level prototypes to demonstrate the different configurations I’ll be offering on Kickstarter.
These prototypes are smaller, lighter, quieter and more efficient than I ever thought possible. The first one, the desktop model featured in the product launch announcement video, is the simplest and most affordable. The next models will feature latching covers with gaskets and an optional aluminum housing for better protection from inclement field conditions.
Optionally, each model can be configured with one or more battery packs for up to 4, 8 or 16 hours of continuous runtime on a single charge. The fan, which was designed for high-pressure cryptocurrency mining servers, is equipped with an internal pulse-width modulator that allows complete velocity control with no detriment to its lifespan. The filter pack uses a state-of-the-art HEPA Mini-pleat® filter which offers the same performance as the first prototype at half the size.
I have been working with the new prototype for several weeks and have been thrilled with the results. While I’ve grown accustomed to the much larger flow hood I built for my business, to my surprise this small device has been quite comfortable to use for every process I can imagine needing it for. I can’t wait for you to try it, too.
Meet the Molicel: the beating heart of the GoHood. Truly the state-of-the-art in lithium ion cells, these batteries boast unparalleled energy density, rapid charging, and a great lifespan. Assembled into packs in-house, each cell is of trusted origin, thoroughly tested and independently protected. Up to four packs can be connected in parallel and fit neatly inside the unit without obstructing airflow.
The blower fan, which was designed for high-pressure cryptocurrency mining servers, is equipped with an internal pulse-width modulator that allows complete velocity control with no detriment to its lifespan. It is quiet, powerful and remarkably efficient, drawing just 0.9 amps at full power while delivering an impressive 175 CFM.
The most important piece of all, the filter pack uses a top-of-the-line HEPA Mini-pleat® filter, delivering the same performance as standard filter media at half the size and lower static resistance, also improving overall efficiency. Custom manufactured by the industry leader, these packs are scanned and tested to a minimum 99.997% filtration efficiency at 0.3µ. We test them again following assembly to verify their efficacy.
By using only the highest quality components, assembling and testing each flow hood carefully by hand in-house, and providing complete parts and service, customer support and educational resources, we seek to exemplify integrity, ingenuity and dedication to our craft, all while making every effort to keep this technology as accessible as possible to everyone.
Read on to learn more about how we intend to put our business ethics into practice.