Our ranch was located several miles north of Divide,
lost in the Pioneer Mountains.
The closest thing to traffic was when
Union Pacific Freight trains rumbled through the valley.
at 5: 44 am
11: 53 am,
5: 15 pm.
Divide was literally located on the continent of the divide.
To the east, rivers spill into the Atlantic.
To the west, it is spill into the Pacific.
One day my brother Layton and I, decided to
christian its natural water.
Look over here.
Hello Big Sur!
Hello New Orleans!
Hello Big Sur!
And "Hello New Orleans!"
Hello New Orleans!
But Layton's favourite pastime
was shooting at anything that moved.
Upon my brothers request,
father built us a seesaw.
Come on, cowboy.
My father loved Layton
more than anything in the world.
Yes , Good deal.
I would have liked to be a daredevil, too.
But I knew I never be upto it.
Orffyreus have five marbles trapped in tubes,
creating an imbalance. This rocking motion, however,
caused the energy to dissipate.
Robert Flux built a mill based on the concept
of perpetual rotation.
However the inherit friction of the machine caused significant loss of energy.
Italian philosopher Marco Zimara
imagined a machine that could recycle the wind.
But the force required to compress the bellows
was greater than the energy produced by the windmill.
So it didn't work.
No scientific challenge remains greater,
than that of finding the key to
Yet some affirm that
this quest is doomed to failure.
Such a machine
defies the laws of the universe.
The very basis of thermodynamics assumes that
all mechanism will eventually come to stop.
Well, it is you.
Yeah. Given the current state of Science and Technology,
isn't the quest for perpetual motion better suited for
idealists and poets than real scientists?
What if imagination start it
and science end it?
Those who push the boundaries of science, what they not all poets?
that as we speak here today, that somewhere in this country,
a budding Leonardo Da Vinci
is gaining up for the challenge.
Thank you very much.
Oh God ...
Sir, I am the Leonardo from Montana.
Oh yeah? What you are going to do?
I accept the challenge.
One afternoon in August, the phone rang
while my sister Gracie and I
on the porch, shredding sweet corn into large metal buckets.
the buckets were riddled with bite marks dating back to last spring
when our dog Tapioca got depressed
and started eating metal.
Gracie, can you hold this for a second.
This is what I predicted.
is a subspecies of cicindeler.
Who was at that called ?
Same time, has a heart at tip of the mandible
doesn't seem to have a white spot on the electra.
The phone, who was it?
Oh, a call for T.S.
A call for him?
Who was it?
I do not know.
She is still in the line. she is waiting.
You should probably go.
If you finish before I get back, count the number of good ears and the number of bad ones.
Why don't get the kernels, while you're at it?
I had 3 options to get to the phone.
The corridor / kitchen way,
the quickest but also the most boring.
Upstairs /Downstairs route,
but the shift in altitude made me nauseous.
I opted for the third and riskiest,
particularly when father was working around the house.
The scent in room smelled like whiskey stained leather.
and moldy photographs.
If you just closed your eyes,
you could feel the dust forming onto your prairie
after a cowboy posse cavalcade.
Layton use this thing as setting room, was the greatest thing since
Hello, yes, uh...
I would like to speak to T.S. Spivet, this is Miss Jibsen,
Under Secretary of the Smithsonian.
My father is all yours, Ms. Jibsen.
Hello, Mr. Spivet.
Yes! My dad is listening.