Oops, I did it again: I wore an exoskeleton to the world’s biggest tech show, walking the streets and casinos of Las Vegas with a robot powering my legs. I don’t mean I briefly tried a new gadget there. I mean that for the second year in a row, robotic legs helped me walk the miles it takes to do my job at CES.
But this year, I found it easier — because a fanny pack was my exoskeleton of choice.
Exoskeletons aren’t just for military, construction, and hospitals anymore. There’s a growing category of stripped-down hip-, knee-, and ankle-mounted versions for leisure and rehabilitation. They don’t make us faster or stronger, but they keep people walking and hiking longer. They put pep in your step. And there’s no better place to test that robot-assisted future than a tech event in Vegas, where so many robots roam the halls that security won’t question why motors are strapped to my butt.
But with the $2,000 Wirobotics Wim S, which promised to reduce my exertion by up to 20 percent, those motors were instead clipped to my front. And though it might have been one more fashion faux pas to add to my long list of transgressions, that fanny pack design made a huge difference.
“How fast does it go?”
I always get asked how much faster you can run or how much more you can lift, but these aren’t robo-cheetah legs. None of these leisure and rehabilitation exoskeletons make you go faster or carry any more weight — though I can take longer strides for a longer time without tiring, which adds up to a speed difference. My feet got just as sore after miles of use, because they don’t take any weight off you, either.
But I wasn’t nearly as tired, because the motors help lift my legs up and cushion their impact. Wirobotics says that reduces your exertion by up to 20 percent, and I can feel it when I turn it off — the simple act of walking becomes noticeably harder, like gravity suddenly weighing me down. Power on, and you can last longer. “It was like I’d obtained an extra energy tank in a Metroid game,” is how I described the Hypershell last year.
Some exoskeletons can also reverse their motors to help you build strength and burn calories by adding extra resistance: the Wim S calls it “Aqua mode” since it’s like walking through water; with the Hypershell, it’s “Fitness Mode.”
The Hypershell Pro X I tested last year worked great when power walking Vegas, but it was a pain in the tail whenever I tried to sit down. Climbing into cabs, working on my laptop, or wearing a heavy backpack, the Hypershell’s big battery and rear crossbar naturally got shoved into my spine. I had to find backless chairs last year at restaurants and bars. Not anymore!
It also wasn’t easy to quickly take the Hypershell on and off and stow it in my backpack: while the 5.3-pound exoskeleton did fold, it was still roughly the size of a small briefcase and took a coordinated effort to sling around my body and strap it on.
The 3.6-pound Wirobotics Wim S is incredibly easy by comparison: so small, so light, so quick to attach, detach, fold and unfold, I once put it on while walking down a hallway in The Venetian hotel. It snaps reassuringly onto the mounting points on its padded belt, then onto its two leg straps. Detached, I can easily stow it in my backpack where it can charge off my USB-C battery bank at 30W (USB-C PD).
It’s a good thing I was able to remove and charge it on the go, though, because while it had more than enough power to pick up my feet, the battery let me down. On the second day, after walking around three miles, I got no warning before the power abruptly shut off.
At under 50Wh, it’s got less battery capacity than many gaming handhelds, let alone my 16-inch MacBook Pro. My test unit also had an incredibly unhelpful battery meter: when I checked the app throughout the day, it would sometimes say I had as little as 40 percent battery life left, then minutes later it would jump to 70 percent.
(Wirobotics’ original Wim offers swappable battery packs, but the more compact S model doesn’t, and it doesn’t fill me with confidence that the spec sheet suggests the battery is a consumable that needs to be replaced each year.)
One extra benefit of Wirobotics’ front-facing fanny pack design is that the leg-lifting arms rarely got in my way. Where the Hypershell and similar options have hip-hugging motors attached to fixed bars that wrap around my body, blocking easy access to pants pockets and keeping wider-bodied people from fitting inside, the Wirobotics can lift straight up using the motors already positioned in front of each leg.
The flat bars also made a decent laptop rest when I sat down to work, nice and level unlike my actual lap, though I’d probably want to cover them with a softer material to avoid metal sliding on metal. I also found the Wim’s joints, including a ball joint at each leg cuff and a telescoping joint that dynamically lengthens each arm as I walk, did a better job of following the natural motion of my legs.
I know fanny packs carry fashion stigma, but frankly the Wim was easier to hide, too, mostly because the fanny pack can tuck under my shirt. With the Hypershell, I had to hide it under a full jacket.
I’m sure there are downsides to this design that’d be more obvious to a mechanical engineer. The Wim’s tiny motors didn’t especially help me climb stairs, if you’re looking for that, though it does advertise a hiking mode. And I really hope whoever designs the next one of these spares a thought for people who need to wear normal belts — it’d be nice if the Wim could either hold up my pants (by the beltloops, perhaps?) or stop dragging them down in front. I wound up wearing my normal belt underneath.
But I can already see myself wearing a device very much like this in my old age. Or earlier, if I ever get into another accident and need to build up my walking abilities yet again. As for this one, Wirobotics put it on sale in Korea last year and is looking to expand into the US, Europe, and Japan — the company’s apparently already chatted with Best Buy.
Should I roleplay a cyborg again at next year’s CES?
Photography by Sean Hollister / The Verge
