Geek Gestalt

The deep-sea submersible, Deep Flight Super Falcon, from Hawkes Ocean Technologies. The vessel, which can descend 1,000 feet below the sea surface, was unveiled on Wednesday in San Francisco.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET)

SAN FRANCISCO--For Graham Hawkes, the inventor of an entirely new class of deep-sea submersibles, a reporter's question on Wednesday--What kind of fish inspired his new flying craft?--was the perfect opportunity to vent about one of his chief frustrations with science.

"The thousands we don't know of," Hawkes answered, adding that when a world-class ichthyologist friend of his had said he'd never before seen many of the different species of fish they'd passed by while flying far underwater in one of his vessels, "I go, 'yeehah.'"

On Wednesday, Hawkes, his business partner and wife, Karen Hawkes and the employees of their company, Hawkes Ocean Technologies, unveiled the Deep Flight Super Falcon, a $1.5 million "flying" submersible capable of going as far as 1,000 feet below the surface with two passengers, and that the company hopes will help foster a new era of understanding about the ocean.

Photos: Unveiling the winged submersible

The company had previously built an identical craft for venture capitalist Tom Perkins, but this vessel will belong to the Hawkes and they plan to use it for, among other things, promoting a new exploration of the vast areas of the deep sea that until now have been out of reach for nearly all of humankind.

"If people could see (the deep sea, and access it), we wouldn't call this planet Earth," Graham Hawkes said, alluding to the fact that 94 percent of life on the planet is aquatic. "Earth is a stupid name for a beautiful ocean planet. The fact that we call it Earth means we don't understand it."

Graham Hawkes, the inventor of the Deep Flight Super Falcon, has been working on submersibles for 20 years, and is now in the process of creating a fifth-generation vessel intended for science, industry, and the military. But he said the Super Falcon, the fourth generation, is as good as he knows how to create.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET Networks)

The Deep Flight Super Falcon is what Hawkes called "Gen four," or the company's fourth generation of submersibles. In 1995, Hawkes Ocean Technologies launched its first vessel, Deep Flight 1, followed up in 2003 with a two-seat trainer known as Deep Flight Aviator. It made big news last year when it became known that the company had built, on commission, a submersible known as Deep Flight Challenger for adventurer Steve Fossett.

That project was a secret, but when Fossett's remains were found about a year after he died in a mountain plane accident, the company put the word out about it: Deep Flight Challenger had been designed to be the first craft in history capable of taking a solo passenger to the bottom of the Mariana Trench, 37,000 feet below the surface.

To date, Hawkes said, there are just five other deep ocean submersible crafts in the world, all of which are owned by national governments. But those vessels are costly operations requiring dedicated "motherships" to launch a mission. As a result, they have an extremely limited exploration range once they reach their desired depths.

By contrast, Hawkes Ocean Technologies' submersibles are between an eighth and a tenth the weight of the nationally-owned crafts and can therefore be launched anywhere in the world from many different kinds of rented ships. Once below the surface, they can cover as much as 20 kilometers of territory.

The Deep Flight Super Falcon has a maximum depth of 1,000 feet, but is expected to generally descend to no more than 400 feet. It can sustain two people for up to 24 hours, but the company expects normal dives to be between one and three hours in order to maintain the passengers' comfort.

Pulling back the wraps
For Wednesday's event, Hawkes Ocean Technologies gathered a group of journalists, members of the California Academy of Sciences, and friends of the company to witness the unveiling.

Graham Hawkes got the festivities started by standing in front of the craft, which was covered in a colorful parachute-like fabric and explaining that it had voice-activated controls. He began yelling out a series of commands: "Sub power, activate;" "Activate flight;" "Activate thrust," and so on. Beneath the cover, there were some clicks, the tail began to move and it was clear that Hawkes' commands were working. "Power up wing tip light," he shouted, and indeed, they came on.

The Super Falcon, as seen from the front. It is engineered to 'fly,' and relies on some of the same principles of airplane flight, including lift.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET Networks)

Finally, it was time to unveil the vessel, and so with a flourish, Hawkes had his son pull back the wraps.

The joke was on us: two grinning faces appeared under the submersible's clear acrylic domes.

But the Deep Flight Super Falcon was for real, and it was beautiful. It is brand new and gleaming white. And befitting what Hawkes and his people kept referring to as a "flying" vessel, it has both main and tail wings and does look somewhat like a small airplane.

In fact, unlike the world's other submersibles, the Super Falcon doesn't rely on ballast to sink or rise. Rather, it follows the model of air flight, using downward lift on the wings to descend to depth. It can reach speeds of between six and eight knots, much faster than conventional submarines.

Powering the vessel are a set of lithium polymer batteries, and it launches with up to 48 cubic feet of oxygen, Hawkes said. It uses LED lights to make it possible for the passengers to see, even while minimizing the impact on aquatic life unaccustomed to unnatural light.

And while the craft is designed with redundant safety systems and enough air for up to 24 hours, it is also "positive buoyant," meaning that when it comes to a full stop, its 4,000 pounds naturally rise to the surface.

Hawkes Ocean Technologies chief electronics engineer Charles Chiau sits inside one of the 'domes,' the acrylic tops that allow passengers to see everything around them as they travel in the submersible.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET Networks)

For the passengers, each housed in a tiny seat and looking out into the water through crystal-clear acrylic domes, things on board are designed to be comfortable, if not luxurious. The pilot controls the ship with a right-side joystick that directs pitch, yaw, and roll, and a left-side lever for throttle. There are two sets of three digital readouts: on the right, life support monitors showing partial pressure of oxygen, cabin pressure, and earth-leakage measurement; and on the left, a throttle position setting and left- and right-battery power. There's also redundant oxygen tanks, and a system of fully-protected high-power electronics.

Go where no one has gone
To Charles Chiau, the chief electronics engineer for Hawkes Ocean Technologies, traveling on board one of the company's submersibles is unlike anything else.

"Imagine you're in a place no one has gone before," Chiau said, nearly glowing, "able to do things no one has done before...I personally encountered three manta rays, and we went through a school of sharks."

Chiau said that passengers don't feel claustrophobic because of the transparency of the domes. Rather, it's like their heads are directly in the water, though obviously protected. The domes "go away," he said.

To Karen Hawkes, the experience of riding the submersible is "balletic and quiet," and allows you to "move through water, tailing animals."

All of this is vital because, as Graham Hawkes had said, one of the company's major goals is to connect people with the ocean, and Karen Hawkes said they want to "use this as an ambassador for the ocean."

As a result, the company is undertaking two different programs with the Deep Flight Super Falcon, one a flight school in Monterey, Calif., and the second a VIP program (which will be run in conjunction with the National Oceanographic and Atmospheric Administration and the Office of National Marine Sanctuaries) intended to take influential people--such as legislators and writers--down in the vessel so they can experience the deep ocean in ways that might encourage them to advocate for further exploration.

Inside the submersible, the pilot uses a joystick to control pitch, yaw and roll, and has two different sets of digital readouts, including the one on the right here that shows a set of life support measurements.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET Networks)

"We want to send (down) poets and writers," said Graham Hawkes, before being asked if he personally liked poetry. "No, I don't, I'm an engineer. (But) we've got to stop sending (only) engineers down there."

The idea, Hawkes said, is that it's hard to ask lawmakers to set policy for a massive part of the planet with which they have no direct experience. And so the company and NOAA hope that the VIP program will help alleviate that problem.

The flight school, which will take place during summers, will cost $15,000 for a three-day course--after which graduates will get a certificate enabling them to pilot a submersible--or $5,000 for a half-day lesson.

Hawkes said the company is now in the process of working on a fifth-generation submersible that will be geared more toward industry, science, and the military. But he said he feels that the Deep Flight Super Falcon is a machine with "no compromises." With the Deep Flight Challenger, built for Fossett, the company got "depth out of the way," and the Super Falcon was built just the way he wants a submersible.

"This is the first machine," Hawkes began, before stopping. "I don't know how to build it any better."

On June 22, Geek Gestalt will kick off Road Trip 2009. After driving more than 12,000 miles in the Pacific Northwest, the Southwest and the Southeast over the last three years, I'll be looking for the best in technology, science, military, nature, aviation and more in Colorado, Utah, Idaho, Wyoming, Montana and South and North Dakota. If you have a suggestion for someplace to visit, drop me a line. And in the meantime, join the Road Trip 2009 Facebook page and follow my Twitter feed.

NASA said Thursday that it has tested a balloon that ultimately will be able to carry one ton of research equipment to more than 100,000 feet.

(Credit: NASA)

NASA said Thursday it has performed a test of a prototype super pressure balloon that could carry as much as a ton of research equipment to heights of 110,000 feet or more for up to 100 days.

The balloon, which was launched on December 28, 2008, from McMurdo Station in Antarctica, is 7 million cubic feet and is said to be the largest single-cell, super-pressure, fully sealed balloon ever flown. When the project--which NASA is conducting in coordination with the National Science Foundation--is completed, the space agency should have a 22 million cubic foot balloon to work with.

NASA said that long-duration high-altitude balloon missions are far more cost-effective than satellites and that a chief benefit is that the instruments used can be easily retrieved and re-used.

The test flight made it to an altitude of 111,000 feet and has been at or near that height for 11 days so far.

"The flight tested the durability and functionality of the scientific balloon's unique pumpkin-shaped design and novel material," NASA said in a statement. "The material is a special lightweight polyethylene film, about the thickness of ordinary plastic food wrap."

NASA has released a fully restored 42-year-old image of Earth taken from the moon. The image was released as part of a project that will allow scientists at NASA and beyond to compare historical images of the moon with new images that will be captured when NASA sends new missions to the moon in the coming years.

(Credit: NASA/LOIRP)

MOFFETT FIELD, Calif.--Scientists who want to see how the moon has changed in the years since the Apollo missions will soon have the ability to do just that.

That's thanks to a new NASA project in which the agency has restored 42-year-old images taken of and from the moon, all of which will be made freely available to the public.

And while many people will surely have an interest in examining the iconic images, several NASA personnel on hand Thursday at an event celebrating the project explained that it provides the real scientific benefit of making it possible to closely compare even the smallest changes to the lunar surface over the last 40-plus years.

The images in question were taken in the 1960s by cameras onboard five separate Lunar Orbiter spacecraft. They were captured on magnetic tapes and then transferred to film for analysis.

Unfortunately, the full resolution of those images was not available because the technology didn't exist to extract it all.

And in the years since, the data has been stored on large tapes, awaiting the eventual decision of what to do about them.

Now, the Lunar Orbiter Image Recovery Project (LOIRP), which is based at NASA Ames Research Center here, has undertaken the task of translating the original analog data from 1,500 tapes taken from the Lunar Orbiter spacecraft and stored at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory into digital form from which the highest resolution can finally be analyzed.

"This project is an opportunity to revel in what was done in the past," said Pete Worden, director of Ames Research Center, "and get excited about what we're doing in the future."

In particular, Worden said, because once NASA returns to the moon in the coming years, scientists looking closely at the high-resolution versions of the images will be able to see in minute detail how things on the lunar surface have changed.

Once the translation of the images is finished, NASA plans to make all of them available to the public in digital form with the idea that they will be viewable for generations to come.

Worden said that one benefit of being able to compare the historical images with new ones that will be taken starting next spring from the Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter is that it will be possible to see recent meteor impacts too small to see in images taken from afar.

And that's because these images are the highest-resolution taken of the lunar surface to date, said Dennis Wingo, who led the image recovery process.

Greg Schmidt, deputy director of NASA's recently opened Lunar Science Institute, said: "Just imagine for a moment taking these images here, and the hundreds more (that will be generated by LOIRP) and comparing them with what the lunar reconnaissance orbiter will be returning to us in the coming years. We're going to see how the moon is changing, and I'm expecting some very interesting surprises."

The image shown above, the "image of the century," was the first ever taken in which Earth is seen from another celestial body. In it, it is possible to see the north coast of Africa, as well as the glint of the sun on the Atlantic Ocean, said Wingo.

That glint is important, Wingo said, because it indicates to astronomers the possibility of other Earth-style planets.

Wingo also explained how he and his team worked frame by frame to extract the original analog information and turn it into the currently available digital images (See video below).

All told, Wingo said his team has 48,000 pounds of tape to deal with, and that the time frame to complete the project is very short as there is only one person on Earth who has the expertise to work with the playback heads needed to process the original tapes. And at 68 years old, he wants to retire in just 14 months.

"We're almost at the closing of the window," Wingo said. "If we hadn't done this now, it wouldn't have been possible."

A full-scale model of the Charles Babbage-designed difference engine, on display at the Computer History Museum, in Mountain View, Calif. The difference engine will be exhibited for six months starting May 10. It was delivered Wednesday after traveling from London, where it was built at the Science Museum, the home of the world's only other full-scale difference engine. A difference engine is a calculation machine designed in the 19th century, which mechanically calculates polynomial functions.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET News.com)

Update: This story has been corrected to reflect that the date of the public opening of the exhibit is May 10.

MOUNTAIN VIEW, Calif.--"Excuse me, Richard, we have a very large parcel."

With those words, spoken by John Shulver of London's Science Museum, a day of supreme geekery unfolded at the Computer History Museum here.

To be precise, the package in question was the delivery and installation of a difference engine, a brand new model of a 19th-century-era machine designed--but never actually built--by Charles Babbage. It was designed to be a mechanical calculator which can determine polynomial functions.

However, since Babbage invented the machine and never built it, and the only ones actually constructed were in the 19th century, the first one built in modern times was created in 1991 at London's Science Museum. Much more recently, tech millionaire Nathan Myhrvold visited the London museum and decided he wanted one for himself. So he commissioned the museum to build it for him.

Three and a half years later the machine was finished. But before it goes in Myhrvold's living room, it is going to spend six months on proud display at the Computer History Museum here. And on Wednesday, it was expected to arrive at the Mountain View museum.

The difference engine installed Wednesday at the Computer History Museum was built by lead engineer Richard Horton and includes a printer. The machine, of course, is entirely mechanical and has no electric functionality.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET News.com)

However, partly due to the Olympic torch's passage through San Francisco, the grand machine's delivery was delayed for a couple of hours. And so as I--and many others--waited excitedly for its arrival, I was able to have an interesting conversation with Richard Horton, the metals and engineering conservator at the London Science Museum, and the lead engineer on the creation of the brand new difference engine.

Horton was on hand, as was Shulver--who assisted Horton with the last few months of the construction, for the arrival and installation of the machine.

He told me that he had been selected to build the new difference engine because he had been the one to craft a special Babbage-designed printer that was part of the Science Museum's machine. This, of course, after Myhrvold ponied up the million dollars needed to make another one.

Horton said that Myhrvold--who is expected to be on hand at a May 1 invite-only dedication ceremony at the Computer History Museum--is a collector interested in, among other things, historical computers. And as someone with the resources to pay for a difference engine--and the interest--he did so.

The process of making the new difference engine did not turn out as planned, Horton said. Along the way, there were a series of gaffes that led to a much longer construction time than expected.

The difference engine arrived Wednesday at the Computer History Museum. Here it is being lifted off its delivery truck while still in its red shipping cover.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET News.com)

The most egregious mistake was that one of the companies contracted to create specific elements of the machine put parts of it under the wrong heat treatment, and in the process warped and cracked the cams--there are 14 sets of cams which control the engine's drums.

The problem with that, Horton explained, is that the malformed cams affected the difference engine's handle, which must be cranked to operate the machine. It was almost impossible to turn, he explained.

"It wouldn't have worked," he said. "No way."

The error cost the team six months of building time.

Another problem was that one of the main contracting firms working on the project went into liquidation just before the main construction process began, and that meant Horton and his small team ended up having to make many components and rework badly formed pieces themselves.

The biggest problem the contractor's liquidation presented the team with was that many of the machine's pieces had to be hand-fitted, and hand-filed so that they were in acceptable condition, Horton explained. That meant another four months' delay.

"For Victorian requirements," Horton said, speaking of Babbage's design constraints, "we had to be sure all the finishing (was as perfect) as we could meaningfully get them."

A shipping tag on the cover of the difference engine shows that it came from London's Heathrow airport and was intended to be delivered to the Computer History Museum in Mountain View, Calif.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET News.com)

Ultimately, the machine's 248 figure wheels--gears used for computation--did fit properly onto their bearings, Horton said.

"Every one had to be done by hand," he said. "If there was tightness on any of the 248, the friction would have been massive."

It was a frustrating experience, he added, but "then we got the type of fit we wanted...It was better to fit them ourselves than have them be too loose."

Some might find it odd that people today are building machines based on a 19th century design whose creator never managed to bring it to fruition. But Horton said that for Babbage, the problem was financial: He simply didn't have the money to pull it off.

That's why it's so exciting to many that this new machine has come to Mountain View and will stay in the U.S.

Asked what we can learn from the machine, Horton said that it shows how engineering would have been done in Victorian times.

Amazingly, while today's computers can perform billions of calculations in a second, the difference engine could only do one--generally calculating algorithmic, trigonometric and navigational tables--every six seconds. On the other hand, the difference engine trumps today's machines for pure beauty.

So it should have come as no surprise that there was a crowd gathered just for the delivery of the machine. And even though the machine was hours late, the crowd lingered, snapping endless pictures when it finally did arrive--only to have a work crew spend an additional three hours or so simply getting the machine off the delivery truck. It took an additional couple of hours to get the machine into the museum.

Workers push hard as they attempt to get the difference engine up a slight incline on the walkway leading to the entrance of the Computer History Museum.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET News.com)

But get it in they did, with the help of some clever on-the-ground engineering to get the 9,000-pound machine up a slightly inclined walkway and through and around a rather narrow entry way. (See more photos of the supersize unboxing in our photo gallery here.)

And when, at last, it had been shimmied into place, directly under a pair of specially installed chandeliers, the gathered crowd broke out in applause.

And that was even before anyone got to see the machine itself. All the while, from when it came off the truck, to when it was brought inside, it was under wraps.

But finally, Horton and Shulver began to rip the tape and covering off, and slowly but surely, one of the most beautiful pieces of machinery I've ever seen came into view.

When it did, I beheld a stunning piece of workmanship: 9 feet tall, with 8,000 parts, gleaming in the light and obviously never having been used before. The gears were spotless, the symmetry of all the parts was breathtaking and the obvious thousands and thousands of hours of work that went into it was just one of the best things I've ever seen in person.

It was so new, in fact, that one of the first things Horton did when he finished unpacking it was to wipe oil off many of the gears. And Shulver told me that over the next few days he and others would polish much of the steel so that it would shine like silver.

For Horton, meanwhile, the project is now pretty much over. He expects to be on hand for the May 10 opening, but then he'll have to go back to London and resume working for the museum. And it's unlikely he'll get to build another difference engine.

"I don't think any project...can compare," he said, wistfully. "It is (a once in a lifetime project)."

This post was updated at 3:52 p.m. PST with more details.

Science fiction impresario Arthur C. Clarke is dead, according to published news reports.

And as of 3 p.m. PDT Tuesday, the Wikipedia article on Clarke has also already been updated with a banner across the top that reads, "This article is about a person who has recently died."

Science-fiction great Arthur C. Clarke has died, according to published reports

(Credit: Clarke Foundation)

Clarke was the author, or co-author, of dozens of fiction and non-fiction books. But he will likely always be best known for his novel 2001: A Space Odyssey, which he later turned into a landmark film with Stanley Kubrick.

But Clarke also was known for works such as Rendezvous with Rama, Childhood's End and The Fountains of Paradise, according to Wikipedia.

In a 2001 interview Clarke gave to CNET News.com, he talked at length about his then-current work in Sri Lanka as a "champion for gorillas" because of what he saw as a link between global cell phone use and the plight of gorillas in Central Africa due to prospectors hunting for tantalum, a material used in making many gadgets.

On the Web site for his foundation, the Clarke Foundation, he had a prominent quote, "If we have learned one thing from the history of invention and discovery, it is that, in the long run--and often in the short one--the most daring prophecies seem laughably conservative."

The fact that he was known as a writer yet spent some of the later years of his life fighting for the rights of apes and warning humankind that innovation is conservative might surprise people who think of him as always forward-looking.

But for someone with so much work under his belt, it probably shouldn't be surprising.

In a YouTube video in which Clarke talks about his reflections on life on the occasion of his 90th birthday, the author joked about his age. He said that many people had asked him what it was like to have completed 90 orbits around the sun.

"Well, I actually don't feel a day older than 89," Clarke said.

There's no doubt that Clarke was seen as one of the leading lights of science fiction and even of pure science.

In the comments section of a post on his reported death on Boing Boing, a poster calling him or herself Padster123 wrote, "Rest in peace, voyager! You've always been an inspiration."

Another poster, Jeff, wrote, "May he have a glorious experience as he travels to the world beyond, something like the star-gate scene from 2001. All hail Hal's daddy!"

Of course, Clarke, who was born on December 16, 1917, had just turned 90 three months ago. So the thoughts in his YouTube video very likely reflect much of his state of mind upon his death. He was born in Minehead, Somerset, England, and in 1988 was knighted by Queen Elizabeth of England.

"In 1945, a UK periodical magazine, Wireless World, published (Clarke's) landmark technical paper 'Extra-terrestrial Relays,'" his biography on his foundation's Web site reads, "in which he first set out the principles of satellite communication with satellites in geostationary orbits--a speculation realized 25 years later. During the evolution of his discovery, he worked with scientists and engineers in the USA in the development of spacecraft and launch systems, and addressed the United Nations during their deliberations on the Peaceful Uses of Outer Space.

"Clarke's work, which led to the global satellite systems in use today, brought him numerous honors including the 1982 Marconi International Fellowship, a gold medal of the Franklin Institute, the Vikram Sarabhai Professorship of the Physical Research Laboratory, Ahmedabad, the Lindbergh Award and a Fellowship of King's College, London. Today, the geostationary orbit at 36,000 kilometers above the equator is named The Clarke Orbit by the International Astronomical Union."

According to Wikipedia, which cited one of Clarke's aides, "Clarke died on the morning of March 18, 2008, after suffering from breathing problems."

AUSTIN, Texas--The most important thing right now is to make sure no one gets hit by flying watermelons.

Maker Faire show producer Louise Glasgow (left) talks intently with a crew member.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET News.com)

Under usual circumstances, this might be an odd concern. But I'm here in the Texas capital for Maker Faire, and the three organizers--Dale Dougherty, Louise Glasgow and Sherry Huss--just want to be sure that there are no safety issues with the fruit-launching trebuchet that has been set up on the west side of the event.

I've been riding around with Glasgow, Maker Faire's event producer, for a little while, hoping to see what she encounters in the course of the first day of the event, which took place Saturday and Sunday at the Travis County Fairgrounds.

After spending only a little time with her, one thing has already become clear: This woman is all about business.

It's not that she can't enjoy herself. Rather, it's that from the minute I hopped onto her golf cart, she has been a blur of motion, zipping from one place to the next, weaving in between attendees, talking on her radio, stopping to check in with crew members, and then repeating the whole process.

When I first got on, she is in the middle of trying to drum up participants for a parade of art bikes and other moving sculpture. Then, just like that, she has moved on to try to ensure the trebuchet isn't going to conflict in any way with the model rocketeers. Conflict, in this case, would be a Maker Faire version of Patriot missiles shooting down Scuds.

This is the third Maker Faire, but only the first in Austin. So while Glasgow and her fellow lead organizers have institutional memory to work with, they're also new to this city and want to be sure they get it right.

After months of planning and days of setup, it's finally the moment of truth.

And it looks like it's all paying off. Glasgow seems quite pleased as she notes, perhaps to herself, perhaps to me, "It's like a constant flow (of attendees) coming in now, which is nice."

By now, we've been joined by Huss, Maker Faire's director, and we're continuing the mad pace around the fairgrounds. You'd be tempted to think that Glasgow's just patrolling randomly, but it actually seems very much like she's a woman with a definite plan.

Maker Faire organizers (from left) Dale Dougherty, Sherry Huss and Glasgow discuss safety measures involved in a trebuchet that launches melons hundreds of feet.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET News.com)

As we approach a fence separating the fairgrounds from the parking lot, we encounter Dougherty, the editor and publisher of Make magazine and the co-organizer of this 48-hour celebration of do-it-yourself culture, hacking, carnival silliness, fire art and so much more.

Every other time I've run across Dougherty during the time I've been here--I came two days early to Maker Faire Austin to play the role of "embedded reporter"--he's been in a largely jovial mood. Now he's agitated, complaining that the two parking lot attendants on the other side of the fence are not adequately directing attendees to the entry gates.

Glasgow assures him she'll take care of it, and she, Huss and I head in that direction to solve the problem.

We approach the two attendants, who apparently don't speak English, and Glasgow proceeds to engage in a half-English, half-pantomime attempt at conveying the proper instructions. They nod their assent and we drive off. Whether they actually understood was not entirely clear to me.

All summer, Glasgow has been visiting Austin, checking out other events at the fairgrounds and visiting other venues around town in a bid to understand what works and what doesn't in this entertainment-crazy town.

She and Huss have also been working hard to build relationships with the vendors for the event, as well as with institutions and communities in town to help drum up interest for the Maker Faire and ensure they don't breach important protocols.

Rich Bailey, chief of staff for the mayor of Austin (center), offers a mayoral proclamation declaring Maker Faire weekend in the city.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET News.com)

"I look at it like I'm setting up 20 rows of dominos, then making sure" they fall the right way, Glasgow says. "If something goes off track, we know what track it's going to fall into."

Among the organizations that the two have reached out to are South by Southwest, the Austin City Limits music festival, the Burning Flipside regional Burning Man event, the Austin Children's Museum, the local video game development community, the University of Texas radio station--all in the hopes that each group could build bridges to the overall Austin community.

By now, we've found our way to the head of the parade route, and we've stopped momentarily to watch.

Just when it seems that Glasgow has forgotten her frenetic countenance, she spots a normal car parked up ahead along the parade route and suddenly we're off to intercept it.

We actually move so quickly that as we hit a bump. Huff's radio falls off the cart. No matter, Glasgow approaches the poorly located car, has a quick conversation with its driver and then grabs a nearby crew member to deal with the situation.

For the most part, Maker Faire is made up of exhibitors who come to demonstrate their mad science or show off their wares or educate the public. But the event is also "anchored" by some major groups hired by the Maker Faire. In Austin, that included two previous Maker Faire anchors--Cyclecide, a carnival bicycle rodeo, and the Life Size Mousetrap, a version of the kid's game on human growth hormone--and now a third group, the self-described freak show 999 Eyes.

Glasgow talks to a driver about moving her car out of the way of an approaching parade.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET News.com)

And as we drive in between 999 Eyes and the Mousetrap, Glasgow hits the golf cart's brakes as the sheriff, or at least a deputy, walks up. They begin talking. Though I can't hear very much of what they're saying, I can tell it's largely friendly.

"I could tell from the first time I met you," Glasgow says to the officer, "that I wanted you on my team."

Further, she adds, he should make sure to mark his calendar for Maker Faire Austin 2008, next October.

That's the first I've heard specific mention of there being another Maker Faire here next year.

But it's not hard to see why. By the end of Sunday, Huss tells me that she estimates total attendance for the weekend in the low-20,000s, which is almost exactly on par with the first Maker Faire in San Mateo, Calif. That venue, in its second go-round this May, hit 40,000-plus. So things look good for Austin.

I ask about the 2008 event, and Huss says that it had already pretty much been assumed that there would be a second Maker Faire here, and that, in fact, you pretty much have to go into putting something like this on with the understanding that it's a multiple-year project.

One measure of success for Maker Faire Austin was its ability to create a good relationship with law enforcement.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET News.com)

For the most part, Huss and Glasgow seem very happy. There are at least a few things they'd like to see be different.

From Huss' perspective, the most important might be getting more sponsorships from local major corporations. That's particularly so, she said, because Maker Faire is not a profitable venture, even in California. She said the Bay Area events just about broke even, and that Austin is not assured of even that. So, clearly more money would be good.

Another thing she'd like to see is a "food makers" section in which the so-called Makers could sell their food. That's because, currently, Maker Faire can only sell food made by approved vendors.

"Our audience doesn't want corn dogs," Huss says.

To be fair, there are other choices, like fajitas, but her point is well taken. If people were able to make and sell whatever they wanted--within reason, of course--there could be a much more interesting selection.

Finally, we pull up in front of the main Maker Faire building, where Harrod Blank, the spiritual leader of the art car movement, has gathered several examples of the genre, including one that was donated in perfect, normal shape, and which is being actively permanently decorated by participants. By now, it looks amazing, and shows a lot of promise to get even better.

As Huss and Glasgow get into a friendly conversation with Blank, I decide that this is where I'll get off.

As I walk away, I'm reminded of something Glasgow said to me during the ride.

Talking about the infrastructure of the event and her experience putting it all together for what is now the third, mostly successful, time.

"It's like building a house," Glasgow said. "There's certain things that won't go up without a foundation."