Although I've always been interested in astronomy, I've never had the opportunity to see a total solar eclipse until 21 August 2017. Sometime back in 2015, I first read about the coming eclipse and committed the date to memory. Then for the next two years, I tried at various times to get my friends as excited as I was that this was about to happen -- without any success whatsoever. As Yogi Berra once said, "If the people don’t want to come out to the ballpark, nobody’s going to stop them." And so it goes, Carol and I would have to experience this magnificent celestial alignment by ourselves.
We didn't begin any serious planning until after we had returned from our 48 state trip other than identifying possible airport destinations in Oregon and Idaho that happened to fall along the path of totality.
In the first couple of weeks of August, we decided on Weiser, ID (S87). We were lucky to get a reservation there as many airports were closed for the event by then. There was virtually no chance of any hotel accommodations being available at this late date, so we were going to be camping. Unfortunately, we don't really have any camping equipment, but for this one night trip very little would be required. We went out and bought a small tent, air mattress, and an air pump. That, along with some sheets and pillows, rounded out our camping gear at about 25 pounds. Not too bad.
We departed Grass Valley early Sunday afternoon for the two and a half hour flight. From the ground, I could see the cumulus clouds that build every afternoon over the Sierras. Once we're airborne it was obvious that most of the clouds would be south of our route and the weather ahead would be clear, but the visibility wasn't. A heavy layer of forest fire smoke hung over the Sierras.
We departed Grass Valley early Sunday afternoon for the two and a half hour flight. From the ground, I could see the cumulus clouds that build every afternoon over the Sierras. Once we're airborne it was obvious that most of the clouds would be south of our route and the weather ahead would be clear, but the visibility wasn't. A heavy layer of forest fire smoke hung over the Sierras.
We clawed our way above the smoke about the same time as we cleared the Sierras. Once we were over the Nevada desert, the air was relatively clear. We continued on for a while at 11,500', but then we decided to go lower at 9,500' since the smoke had dissipated. There is not a whole lot to see along this route that transits the desert lands of northern Nevada and eastern Oregon. Fortunately for us, the RV is pretty fast. I couldn't help wondering how the earthbound travelers were faring with the anticipated eclipse traffic.
From about 100 miles out we began listening to the Weiser CTAF. The frequency was buzzing with aircraft announcing their arrival. I'm sure glad we had reservations.
The town of Weiser is at the northernmost tip of a long valley consisting mostly of farmland that extends to the south where the valley broadens to contain the city of Boise and its suburbs.
Weiser itself is a picturesque little town of 5,400 at the edge of the Snake River that forms the border between Idaho and Oregon.
We happened to arrive during a lull in the incoming traffic and landed runway 30 without delay. We decided to refuel before we continued to the parking area as we were concerned that there might be a line for fuel if we waited. The line never materialized so we needn't have been concerned, but it was comforting to know that we were ready to depart when the time came. A helpful attendant did the fueling while I went to register for the event and pay our tie down fee of $3.00. That was it? Three dollars was all that I was asked to pay. I could hardly believe it. I had heard of exorbitant fees being levied at other locations and was expecting to pay something similar. They were accepting donations in a jar at the registration table, but I wonder, -- I hope, that they were able to recover their costs. The jar didn't seem big enough for all the effort and material that obviously went into this event.
After fueling, we were marshaled to our parking area which was on the dry grass just off the taxiway. We were about the first plane parked on this side of the airport so I guess that we were somewhere in the middle of the pack with regard to arrivals. I was told that they were expecting 120 planes total, but some would be arriving Monday morning just before the airport closed. It was about 4:30 pm. Here we are just starting to unload.
I snapped this picture looking south before any of our neighbors arrived.
Compare to this picture that I took the next day from near the same place and direction. The partial eclipse had already started by the time of this photo.
Once we unloaded, we walked across to the hangar and terminal building where most had congregated. There were lots of people to meet and share our flying stories. A few had seen eclipses before, but most hadn't. Either way, everyone was excited about what would happen the next day. Inside the hangar, there were tables of snacks and plenty of water to drink. The organizers of this event had everything well thought out and the event was running smoothly.
After an hour or so of friendly chit chat at the hangar, Carol and I returned to our plane to set up the tent. We had conducted a dry run in our living room at home to learn how the tent went together and how well the air mattress would fit the tent. When the time came at Weiser, we hoped that we would actually look like we knew what we were doing. The dry run at home didn't go so smoothly, so I guess the prep actually paid off for once. The tent did not come with instructions.
About the time that we returned to the hangar, the food came out. They're going to feed us too! These guys were amazing. The dinner was a hamburger and hot dog affair with lots of side dishes that were provided in part by the attendees, pot luck style. There was so much food that the conscientious pilot might want to reconsider his weight and balance before departing.
After dinner, a man was introduced to the assembled crowd in the hangar. He was local to the area and a farmer. A tall and slim man in his seventies dressed in a cowboy hat and boots. I would not have guessed that he was about to provide our musical entertainment -- by himself. He was a one man band demonstrating his musical mastery with a piano, bass drum, hi-hat, and trumpet. As all of this was being set up, I remember thinking that I really didn't want to listen to this and was actively considering my other options. But once he started, I was mesmerized. This guy was very entertaining and I completely forgot about going anywhere else. He encouraged the audience to shout out locations or countries and then he tried to match that with a piece of music from that area or at least come up with some kind of connection to it. He also accepted specific requests and he played a very wide range of musical genres.
Following the movie, we all retired to our tents. Tomorrow would be the big day.
The next morning we were treated to yet another meal, pancakes, eggs, sausage, and orange juice. It was awesome. After breakfast, Carol and I took the tent down and repacked the plane. The start of the eclipse was still a couple of hours away at this point so we returned to the hangar and waited with everyone else.
It was a little after 10 am that we could see a tiny sliver of the sun beginning to be blocked. Slowly, over the course of another hour, the moon progressed inexorably along its orbit blocking more and more of the sunlight. For most of the partial eclipse, there was no discernible difference in the apparent light level. Even when the sun was 90% blocked, our eyes adjust and it looks fairly normal outside. But it wasn't normal, the temperature was already beginning to fall. It was similar to when a cloud blocks the sun and we notice a dip in the temperature.
Here is a picture with the sun 90% blocked. The remaining 10% is still so bright that it still doesn't look too unusual outside. Only when you look away from the direction of the sun do you notice that the sky is a much darker blue than normal.
Carol chose her spot and waits for totality. It's now just a minute or two away. In the photo below, the camera has adjusted the light level considerably, It seemed darker than this when I snapped the picture. Never-the-less, there is still a lot of light coming from what was now the tiniest sliver of the sun peeking over the limb of the moon.
The moment of totality is indescribable. The eclipse glasses come off and we drink in the unfettered spectacle that is like no other. Seeing the black moon high in the sky framed by the sun's glowing corona is absolutely eerie. Now that I've seen it, it is not hard to understand people being frightened by the sight of it.
Slowly, I became aware of the sounds of the other people watching. Screams, gasps, and other exclamations were the norm. It was not black outside like the dead of night, but more like a deep twilight. The street lights had come on and I noticed the airport's rotating beacon sweeping its beam across the field, reflecting off of the parked aircraft as it passed. I took time to look about the horizon and noted that the twilight extended all the way around.
And then I noticed that the temperature had really fallen. Some said twenty degrees. I don't know, but I have goosebumps on my arms. Is it the temperature or just the awesomeness of the eclipse?
I looked for visible stars, but I could see only Venus. Then I saw Santa Claus. Wait, what? Three skydivers landed during the totality, one dressed as Santa Claus. It seems that everyone has their own way to enjoy the celestial alignment. I did not take the photo below. It was emailed to me by fellow EAAer, Frank Jackson, who indicated to me that it was actually taken by his son. I thought the photo captured the totality as well as any that I have seen.
Instead, Carol and I shared our thoughts on what we just experienced and then we walked back over to the hangar to visit with our fellow eclipse gazers. It was interesting to listen to people struggling to describe the ethereal and inexpressible qualities of what they had just witnessed.
The airport would remain closed for the duration of the eclipse, but when it reopened at about 12:30 p.m. MDT everyone was ready to go. We were assigned departure groups when we registered. This cut down on the number of aircraft trying to taxi at the same time. There was a "controller" on the CTAF advising as to when each group should start up and taxi. He kept the taxiway full and moving and it was all quite entertaining as he exhorted us to "keep it moving, boys" and "Hey you in the Skylane, close up that gap". As it happened we were in line on the taxiway with another RV-7A. The controller gave us the option to depart as a flight of two, which we accepted. The other RV-7A had a smoke system and he left a nice smoke trail as we departed in formation.
The trip home was uneventful other than the entertainment of watching our traffic scope. Leaving Weiser, the airspace looked like the Oklahoma land rush as seemingly all aircraft flying were headed back to California.
When we arrived back home in the early afternoon, barely more than 24 hours had elapsed. We had 4.7 hours of flying time and about 700 nautical miles traveled. We found out that the people at Weiser Idaho know how to throw a great eclipse. They were friendly, well organized, and fun. If they could do it again next year, I'd be there.
