Journey to totality during the Great American Eclipse 2024

  Let me begin with an apology. This post should ha been up las night at midnight. I happen to have been incommunicado with the real world since last Thursday. I had no idea how cut off and off the grid I would be until today. Blame it on Monday’s eclipse.

I experienced my first total eclipse of the sun on a freezing February in Canada, and it was such an awe inspiring few minutes that I became an eclipse chaser. As I told one of the other people in the woods with me, almost all of my vacations in the last fifty years have been to experience another eclipse … with a little sight-seeing on the side. Inspiring. I’ve done Russia (back when it was still the Soviet Union), the Black Sea, Iran, South America, and I’m still kicking myself that I decided to skip the eclipse trip to Antarctica because I was afraid of a little cold. I will never find another excuse to go there.

 
I saw totality at the first Great American Eclipse a few years ago. Naturally, I felt I had to see this one too. I reside in the Chicago area, and would have seen a partial eclipse had I stayed home. Two problems with that. Eclipse chasers know that the best, most important and truly awe inspiring portion of an eclipse occurs between second and third contact. 

First contact is the moment the moon seems to touch the edge of the sun, like a butterfly kiss between parent and child. Second contact is the moment the moon completely covers the sun. That’s when the eclipse glasses can come off, and you can stare directly into the glow of the sun’s corona surrounding absolutely nothing - a giant hole where your brain knows something should be,but it’s missing. The darker the area is the better, the more likely that stars will come out, and planets become visible in the day. It only lasts a few minutes, then comes third contact, when the moon, which has been constantly moving, moves far enough so that light from the sun’s disk again lights the sky, and glasses need to go back on again. Finally, fourth contact, when the sun and moon have finished their heavenly dance, at least until next time.

 
I live in the Chicago area, where there would not be a second of third contact, no moment of totality. I’ve been spoiled, I need the full monty, totality and as close to darkness as our world's attempts at perpetual lighting make possible. Staying close to Chicago meant only seeing a 92% eclipse in the "bright lights, bid city" world. Nice, but not the big show. Its a little like attending a football game and seeing the players introduced, but having to depart just before kickoff. You never even get to take your glasses off, not if you are smart, anyway. Plus, the city lights are always on, dimming out that sky show. 

In 1917, I took a chartered bus tour to the southern states to enjoy that Great American Eclipse while sipping beer at an isolated eatery reserved by the tour company for the occasion. Even that was too bright, they kept trying to sell us things. This year I headed for a group going into the woods at the south end of Illinois. It was isolated, dark, and without internet connectivity.

I didn’t realize how little interaction I would have with the outside world when I reached the woods on Friday. My biggest concern was the weather. Saturday and Sunday were both overcast and raining. Actually,so was Tuesday. But Monday in the woods turned out to be a day made for eclipse viewing. I preserved the perfect record I never dared mention out loud for fear of jinxing things - I have never, ever had bad weather keep me from viewing an eclipse, not even once.

Second contact arrived, and I whipped off my glasses in time to ses a totally gorgeous diamond ring to kick off totality. I watched two bright red prominences extending out of the sun’s corona. I saw a planet close to the sun, Venus, I think. And I almost got run down by a boy who insisted on riding his bicycle around instead of staring up. At least, that’s what I thought.

Several families had brought children camping with them. Some stayed with their parents during the sky show. Two were on swings in a playground area. Then there was speed racer on his bike, his only concern seemed to be the adults standing in his path, too mesmerize to move when he rang his bell. During totality, the playground kids stopped swinging. I heard young voices from the swings saying “That’s amazing.” Meanwhile, speed racer kept going. There was a second diamond ring at third contact, the first time I’ve seen two rings on the same eclipse. As we adults sadly put our eye protection back, two kids started swinging again.

I thought that was the end, until the bicycle rider rode over to the swinging kids and stopped. I stood close enough to the group to hear him say, “That was great.”

 
I could have sworn he was too busy pedaling in the dark to have looked up even once. Now he calmly revealed to the other kids that has favorite activity did not prevent him from experiencing the same sense of awe everyone else sitting on the grass, or in lawn chairs, or simply standing motionless in the path like me, blocking his way. I will never again think someone didn’t care about something just because they didn’t react the way I assumed they would.

I took an extra day in the woods because it was isolated and warm and I wasn’t ready to hit the traffic for the long drive back north. As I said, Tuesday the weather was awful again. Sorry I got this out late, but it was really nice to have no idea what was happening in the world, to just care about nature. Now I’m back, and there is wifi and power. But I think I’ll take my time before catching up with the world.

I think I’ll do another one of these escapes from being connected to everything, even if there is no eclipse to provide justification.

There Goes The Sun

  I’ve written to you about my issues with SAD (seasonal affective disorder) in earlier posts. For decades my mood has been controlled by the amount of sunlight during the day. By October, there is so little sunlight that my brain goes dark too as depression descends. Fortunately, by this time of year, my depression has fled. Good, because April 8, 2024 is coming.

The sun has such a powerful effect on me, its no wonder I see why ancient humans worshiped that

glowing yellow ball dominating the daytime sky. The Egyptians, Incas in Peru, people in Babylon, China, Africa, even Rome did the same. Some Native American tribes considered the sun part of the Great Spirit. Solar eclipses were frequently considered signs of the god’s displeasure. People were often terrified during the few minutes of totality, worried that the sun might have abandoned the Earth forever. In fact, the word eclipse comes from a Greek word meaning abandonment.

 
These days we know the cause of solar eclipses. We know its just the full moon’s shadow passing over the Earth’s surface and temporarily obscuring the sun. And we understand the math and physics enough to accurately calculate the dates, location, and duration when this shadow will touch down and hide the sun from view.

 
And yet …

Some of the old superstitions still nestle deep inside some human hearts. My heart, at least. I realized that in a frozen Canadian plain on February 26, 1979, when I experienced my first total solar eclipse. The sub-zero grew noticeably colder as the sun faded away. But I forgot that I was cold once this gigantic hole opened in the sky. The place where the sun had been was now a void empty of stars. A magical nothingness surrounded by a ring of fire. I stood, open-mouthed, just staring into the void. Animals were headed for their homes, leaving only a gaggle of foolish humans standing motionless on the ice, staring up at that emptiness.

 

I had paid big money (for those days) to travel from a warm apartment in Chicago, Ill to Manitoba, Canada just so I could stand on an icy field so I could witness the phenomenon that had terrified so many of our ancestors. I spent just over two minutes in the darkness known as totality that day. It was my first eclipse, but not my last. Over the years I became a veteran eclipse chaser. Instead of fearing the darkness, I raced to meet it across the globe wherever I had the opportunity.

• June 11, 1983  for almost 5 minutes
• July 23, 1990  for 2 minutes
• July 11, 1991  for almost 7 minutes
• August 11, 1999  for over 2 minutes
• March 29, 2006 for over 4 minutes
• August 21, 2017 (nicknamed “The Great American Eclipse”) for 2 ½ minutes

And now, April 8, 2024. This one is expected to last almost 4 minutes in southern Illinois where I will be observing with others at a special presentation at Southern Illinois University, only a five hour drive away from my home. I have traveled as far away as Russia, Lybia and Argentina in pursuit of an eclipse. 2017 found me close, in Missouri. This time I get to stay even closer to home, in Illinois. Fitting, because this will likely be my last eclipse. I will have spent almost a half hour in totality. April 8 will be a bookend to my expriences, and I am looking forward to relaxing, looking up, and staring into the void.

BLAME IT ON THE ECLIPSE! by Sarah Raplee

HUSBAND VIEWING THE ECLIPSE 

What were you doing during the "Eclipse of the Century" yesterday? 

For people like us who live in the band of totality (where 100% of the sun gets blocked by the moon), the solar eclipse has been a Big Deal - something we've prepared to observe and celebrate for over a year! Which explains why I totally spaced off my blog post being due today. (That's my story and I'm sticking to it!) 

We had 16 people at our house, eclipse glasses in hand, ready to be awed! We live on a small acreage near Molalla, Oregon, ideal for eclipse viewing. My son and his family of six came over Sunday to avoid traffic jams. We grilled hot dogs and hamburgers, visited, and played a board game with the older kids involving intricate rules and special dice. A good time was had by all!

About 11pm Son and family spread blankets on the lawn, turned out all lights, and watched the Perseid meteor shower for an hour. Knowing we had to get up early to have breakfast and set up lawn chairs in the morning, my husband and I went to bed.

In the morning, Son and Wife set up lawn chairs - a few on the deck for us older folks and a bunch on the lawn where the sun shone on a larger area. They dragged the kids out of bed and fed them a quick breakfast of toaster waffles, then gave them blankets to wrap up in and sent them to the chairs, each with a pair of eclipse glasses and a warning not to look at the sun without their glasses.

ECLIPSE COOKIES

I ate pb and j in the car on my way to pick up a friend who lives alone and doesn't drive. She's legally blind, but has some sight. Besides, in the band of totality you experience the sun's disappearance with all your senses. And who doesn't like a party?

Even out here in the sticks, traffic was almost bumper-to-bumper. plus there were groups of bicyclists under the illusion that Hwy. 211 has adequate bike lanes. Luckily, everyone was cautious and courteous and the short trip only took an extra 15 min.

Back home, we served Eclipse Cookies my granddaughter had made, coffee and soft drinks. We all periodically checked the eclipse's progress through our protective glasses. Some people listened to Pink Floyd's "Dark Side of the Moon" coordinated with the eclipse progress. We noticed the light dimming, birds quieting and the temperature dropping as we neared Totality.

FRIEND AT TOTALITY-PURE AWE!

And then, a few precious, magical moments of Pure Awe!

We took off our glasses and looked at the dark moon with the sun's corona flaring around the edges. The sky turned dark blue and a few stars peeked through what was left of the sun's powerful light. The birds and animals were silent. The air was chill without the sun's energy to warm it. The sky on the horizon turned a beautiful pale orange.

I thought about how much we take the sun for granted, and how easily we forget it's power. And I offered up a prayer of thanks for all the good things in my life.

~ Sarah Raplee


What were you doing during the "Eclipse of the Century"?