Yang Ch'un-lin takes from the shelf a few pieces of ink-black "things" about the size of saucers and places them on the table. As he pokes at them with his finger, he speaks in a rather embarrassed tone: "This is it." These unobtrusive lumps of rock-hard substance are, surprisingly enough, Yang Ch'un-lin's 1986 International Geneva Inventions Exposition bronze-medal-winning invention. A compound made of used latex tires and asphalt, the substance, for which he has been awarded a fifteen-year patent, is used for surfacing athletic running tracks.
In earlier days, the majority of schools and athletic centers in the ROC surfaced their tracks and baseball diamonds with either crushed brick or cinder. In fair weather the air was filled with dust and grit and when it rained the surfaces were pocked with puddles, causing numerous headaches and much inconvenience for their users.
Later, in the interest of improving conditions for athletics within the country, the importation of polyurethane tracks was begun. This type of track surface is both attractive and well-suited to its purpose, but due to the prohibitive expense involved, most schools remained unable to make use of the superior product.
"Do you mean to tell me that there isn't some other material that could be used as a substitute?" Yang Ch'un-lin asked himself in disbelief. Thus it was that the midnight oil began to burn in his "laboratory." He conducted numerous tests, dropping strips of old latex tires into a boiling cauldron of asphalt. After half a year of patient experimentation, Yang finally came up with what is now known as the "rubberized asphalt concrete" (RAC) track.
"Old tires are thrown out simply because the tread has been worn down or the tire has split, but the quality of the latex is still top-grade. These leftover materials are of an especially durable, decay-, age-, and chemical-resistant nature," says Yang. Of even greater importance is the fact that used tires cost only 38 U.S. cents a kilogram. Therefore, Yang's RAC track runs at a price which is a mere quarter of that for a polyurethane track, while according to the results of tests conducted at National Cheng Kung University, its hardness, specific gravity, and resilience all rate better than the same qualities for polyurethane.
"Even though the patent runs for fifteen years, I think the time will slip by pretty quickly. If I don't get busy with improving techniques, sooner or later somebody's bound to catch up with me," says the 63-year-old Yang Ch'un-lin. Luxuriating in the empire of invention, he has no concept of age.
Ever seen the movie Raiders of the Lost Ark? In it there is a scene where a German special services agent wields a baton. He suddenly slashes it through the air and swoosh--just like magic--it becomes a coat hanger complete with two wings and a hook by which to hang it.
This lightheartedly amusing scene has had a surprisingly deep influence on the life of one youth who sat quietly astounded in front of the silver screen-- namely, Liu Pao-shen. After he went home from the movie that day, using plastic rods he puzzled together one "not too ideal" collapsible coat hanger. But he did make it, it could be folded up and opened, and he could hang his coat on it. Although it was rather crude in design, he "learned in making it the joys of invention." That one collapsible hanger opened up for him the door of invention, subsequently leading him, with the help of his newly designed goniometer, to become the first Asian to win the first place award at the International Geneva Inventions Exposition.
The inspiration for this invention was also taken from daily life. One day Liu found himself thinking that the clothes which his mother was wearing "didn't look quite right." After considering for a time, he came to the conclusion that this was probably because the slant of her shoulders was not quite the same on both sides, causing the clothes to not fit her properly. Liu decided to look for some kind of apparatus which would allow him to measure the slant of his mother's shoulders so that he could ask a tailor to make for her more closely-fitting clothes. But try as he may, he could find no such instrument. "So, why not design one myself?" he asked.
Within the ROC there are not many books or experts in the field of topographical survey. Such being the case, Liu's only recourse was to buy up all sorts of various tools and implements, and from their study come to comprehend the methodology of tool manufacture.
In this way he eventually managed to put together an instrument by which it is possible to make minutely accurate angular measurements. His goniometer is unprecedentedly adept at measuring interior angles--where previously available apparatuses would take an hour to make such measurements, Liu's can finish the job in a minute.
Do you suppose Steven Spielberg ever imagined that a split-second scene in his strictly-for-fun movie had the potential to send a youth cruising down the road to invention?
Back in 1967, one company in the ROC nut-manufacturing trade imported from West Germany a machine which could turn out 150 nuts per minute, causing quite a stir within the island's industry. However, the cost of the machine was a whopping US$115,000, a price tag which most of the small factories on the island could hardly even afford to look at.
Li Yuan-he was inspired: "I could design one of those machines myself!" he thought. Mechanical simplicity and operational convenience were taken as the guiding principles of his design.
The following period of time, however, was one of bitter struggle for Li Yuan-he. "Nobody believed in me," he says. Parents, friends, and colleagues all thought that he was living in a dream. "The road to invention is a lonely one, but you've got to stick to it; you can't underestimate yourself. If you don't believe in the possibilities of what you are doing, you'll never come up with anything."
After nearly a year of diligent work, Li was able to bring out his first-generation nut-manufacturing machine, putting out 120 nuts every minute. Although this rate was somewhat slower than its German counterpart, the machine carried a price of only US$3,500, a mere 1/33 of the cost of the imported machine. Needless to say, Li's machine quickly gained absolute supremacy in the marketplace.
Li Yuan-he, however, was not yet satisfied. Two years later, his new 400-nut-per-minute machine appeared on the market. In 1974 this second generation machine earned for him a first place award in the first National Product Design competition. In 1976 Li came out in rapid succession with his third generation machine, which worked at the rate of 750 nuts per minute, followed by the fourth generation, which spewed out nuts at the incredible speed of 1,000 per minute. "He's just about reached the outer limits of mechanical capability," comments one factory boss with an exaggerated smile.
Li Yuan-he is fifty years old this year, yet even today he continues to pour his boundless energies into his invention. What is his motivation? What is his secret? "I don't admit to fate!" he exclaims. "As soon as you give in to fate, you lose all chance of making any breakthrough!"
[Picture Caption]
The white-haired Yang Ch'un-lin luxuriates in the empire of invention, pleasantly at harmony with himself, having no concept of age. (photo by Arthur Jeng)
The full, smiling faces of these children speak clearly of the value of Yang Ch'un-lin's invention.
Liu Pao-shen, the first Asian to capture a first-place award at the International Geneva Inventions Exposition, flashes a victory smile. (courtesy of Liu Pao-shen)
This apparently simply structured goniometer has the ability to solve many particularly tricky problems of angular measurement.
Li Yuan-he single-handedly built his world-renowned "Nut Kingdom". His office wall is covered with award plaques and patent certificates from countries all over the world.
(Left) Li Yuan-he's fourth generation nut-manufacturing machine is a world record-setter, producing 1,000 nuts per minute.
(Right) The cleverness required for invention is exemplified in this "mechanically simple, operationally convenient" machine.
The full, smiling faces of these children speak clearly of the value of Yang Ch'un-lin's invention.