On Assignment for Time and Navigation

What’s missing when you sit in front of a computer all day? Adventure! Luckily, three
Time and Navigation photography missions took me across the country last year, giving me the chance to escape the office.

My first destination was Beer Bottle Pass in the Mojave Desert. This is where Stanley, the autonomous car, navigated its way to victory during the 2005 Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency (DARPA) Grand Challenge race. I needed a photo of the pass to cover the 27-­foot wall behind Stanley in the Time and Navigation gallery. I was confident about this trip until I discovered how precarious this pass could be. The fact that Stanley was able to navigate these sheer drop-­offs and steep inclines is remarkable.

Ashley Hornish

Ashley Hornish in the Mojave Desert

After studying Google Earth for several weeks, my husband, Cory, and I were ready to go. We drove our rented Jeep Wrangler to our starting point outside Primm, Nevada. This area had received a record rainfall the previous week so we had to negotiate washed-out areas and large stones. It took us 45 minutes to travel the seven miles to the pass.

Such a large mural requires more than just one photo; I needed a series that I could stitch together into a panorama. As we gradually moved into the pass, I looked for the best composition. Unfortunately, the road conditions got worse as we progressed, so we never made it to the most treacherous areas (fine with me!). Nevertheless, the trip was a success, and I was relieved to make a safe return to Primm.

Ashley Hornish

Ashley Hornish in the Time and Navigation exhibition. Behind her are Stanley and the mural she photographed in the Mojave Desert.

Since Cory and I were “in the neighborhood,” we arranged a visit to the Goldstone Deep Space Network complex. Located about 35 miles north of Barstow on the Ft. Irwin Military Base, the NASA Deep Space Network is an international network of antennas that supports interplanetary missions and radio and radar astronomy observations for exploring the universe.

I wanted to photograph an old hydrogen maser at the Mars 70­-meter antenna. Now a backup, this maser was the primary frequency standard for the racks of Goldstone timing equipment we have on display in Time and Navigation.

Now used as a backup, this hydrogen maser frequency standard was the primary frequency reference for the Goldstone timing equipment on display in the Time and Navigation exhibition.

Visiting Goldstone is no simple task. Hidden away in the middle of the desert, Goldstone is a 45-minute drive from the nearest highway. Disconcerting signs warned of tank crossings and live ammunition areas. After a safety briefing (don’t touch the snakes and don’t drink the water), our guides escorted us to the timing vault of the massive 70-­meter antenna. The best part about the old maser is that it has a small hole at the top that allowed us to view the purple plasma glowing inside the equipment. After a few quick photos, we were allowed to take a brief look into the control room for the Curiosity rover.

I found myself in a very different landscape for my third trip: the middle of a cornfield in Rippey, Iowa. I needed photos of farmer Roy Bardole harvesting his crops using equipment guided by GPS. Museum photographer Dane Penland agreed to accompany me on this adventure, and we headed to the drought­-stricken area hoping there would actually be crops to photograph.

Roy Bardole

Dane Penland photographs farmer Roy Bardole in a harvester near Rippey, Iowa.

Dane and I ended up spending an entire day in the field with Roy and his two sons as they methodically worked their way through the stalks. We took turns riding inside the combine, watching as the enormous machine drove itself down the lengthy rows without wavering. Farming is much more involved than you might imagine, and I was impressed by the Bardoles’ business sense.

Overall this trip was a success: the weather held, the Bardoles’ yield was better than expected, and the motel wasn’t as bad as I thought it might be. I even got a special sendoff at the Des Moines airport, home to the Des Moines Air National Guard. As my airplane taxied to the runway, we passed several F­-16s that were awaiting takeoff. As we passed, the pilots waved to us. It was a great way to end my adventure.

Ashley Hornish is a graphic designer in the National Air and Space Museum’s Exhibits Department.

Stanley Moves In

On October 24, Stanley, winner of a historic robot race, left its home at the National Museum of American History aboard a flatbed truck and arrived safely at its destination, just seven blocks away. For the foreseeable future, Stanley will be here at the National Air and Space Museum, a centerpiece in the exhibition Time and Navigation:  The Untold Story of Getting From Here to There.

The irony of the situation escaped no one.  Stanley, a driverless vehicle that had navigated 132 miles on its own to win the 2005 Defense Advanced Research Projects Grand Challenge, needed the help of scores of people AND a truck ride to get from there to here.

Stanley

Stanley hitches a ride to the National Air and Space Museum. Photo by Richard Strauss

Frankly, moving Stanley is nerve-racking for me. I collected Stanley for the American History Museum’s robot collection.  I feel responsible for Stanley’s safety and the safety of everyone involved with wrangling such a big, heavy car.  On moving day, it turned out, there really was no cause for worry. Everybody—American History’s experienced vehicle mover Shari Stout, the skilled riggers from Ely, and the welcoming Air and Space staffers—everybody knew exactly what to do to put Stanley in just the right spot for long-term display.

Now that Stanley is securely in place, though, there’s a moment to reflect.  It’s worth thinking more deeply about the car’s place in Time and Navigation and the reasons for collecting contemporary objects for the Smithsonian in the first place.

Some have already wondered:  what’s a car doing in the National Air and Space Museum?  In Time and Navigation, we link Stanley directly to satellite navigation, a subject clearly within the Museum’s scope.  The car’s ability to drive itself is a new application for satellite navigation, made possible when computers combine GPS (global positioning system) coordinates with other kinds of data to construct an image of the road ahead, complete with obstacles.  And there’s another connection:  Stanley operates on the ground in much the same way that UAVs, that’s Unmanned Aerial Vehicles, operate in the air.  Stanley moved into the Museum right under the UAV exhibition on the west end.

stanley

Stanley moves into the National Air and Space Museum. Photo by Mark Avino

When Stanley won the off-road DARPA race in 2005, the achievement was a giant technical step forward for autonomous vehicles, the vehicles like Stanley that drive themselves.   Now, seven short years later, numerous carmakers and Google are testing self-driving cars.  Three states—Nevada, Florida, and California—have passed legislation permitting them on state roads.  Advocates foresee a future where such cars will relieve congestion on highways, reduce traffic accidents, and provide transportation for those who otherwise cannot or do not want to drive.  No point going to the showroom to shop for your robot car just yet, but insiders predict the technology will be commercially available soon.

License Plate

Nevada license plate issued for testing autonomous vehicles on the state’s public roads. Photo by Wayne Wakefield.

Predicting the future, like moving Stanley, makes me nervous. My training and interests make me passionate about the past. I’m a historian and a curator, not a soothsayer. Making decisions about what to collect from the long-ago past, a curator stands on pretty solid ground. Often there’s a body of existing research and documentation that verifies the importance of an object from long ago. That’s collecting from inside a comfort zone.

But collecting contemporary objects like Stanley comes close to predicting the future.  It’s a risky business.  Curators have to make educated guesses that today’s technical innovation will be tomorrow’s historic milestone.  Curators who do contemporary collecting take the risk that an object making headlines today will remain representative of some important event or illustrative of how Americans absorbs new technologies.  Such an object might even carry material evidence that inspires our successors to dig deeper into research we haven’t even imagined yet.  Or maybe collecting such an object won’t have any of those useful outcomes.  Maybe it will simply lie fallow forever after in storage.  As I say, it’s a risky business.

An important indicator of an object’s historical worth is whether it yields rich  insights.  So far Stanley does not disappoint.  On display at the National Museum of American History, Stanley represented the latest in a long line of wheeled robots, a history that can be traced back to renaissance automatons.  At the Air and Space Museum, Stanley’s technologies let us see inside the “black box” of navigation and consider emerging technologies that are likely to change the ways we get from here to there.  Whether there will be more insights down the road, we’ll just have to wait and see.

Carlene Stephens is a curator at the National Museum of American History in Washington, DC. She is currently working with a team of curators, designers and restoration specialists at the National Air and Space Museum to develop the Time and Navigation exhibition.

For more about Stanley’s recent move, see the Smithsonian blog.