Three days before the "Great American Eclipse", and Mother Nature is threatening to be a cruel mistress

Oh my God, are you kidding me...?!

Here I am, three days before the "Great American Eclipse" (more to the point, two days before I drive 9 hours to view it). I'm packed up (well, mostly), got my camera, laptop, my official ISO-approved eclipse glasses (which I will be rocking the hell out of come Monday afternoon*)...I'm all set to travel, and fairly excited. After all, I've had this appointment for 38 years. 

Then I awake this morning to find Monday's weather forecast for the town I'm staying in has changed. For three weeks it's been exactly the same: "Clear, High of 88". But all of a sudden, it's altered: "Mix of clouds and sun, chance of afternoon thunderstorms...."

That was earlier.  It's changed yet again in just the last two hours: "Some clouds and an isolated thunderstorm in the afternoon..."

I'm pretty dismayed that the word "sun" has been removed completely from the official text. Like an outdoor wedding, company picnic, or chalk art festival, this celestial event is kind of dependent on good weather....or at least sunny weather.

Man, that figures.

Further investigation isn't making me feel any better. According to NJ.com's interactive map, created using National Weather Service forecast models to predict what geographical areas of the country are most likely to have clear the skies during the eclipse, the likelihood of clear skies in the area where I'm headed is currently listed as "Iffy".

*sigh...*...So figures.

No reason to panic just yet. Things can change on a dime. Maybe "some clouds" will play out as "partly cloudy". But acknowledging the strong possibility that it could just as easily translate into "mostly cloudy", I really have no choice but to begin considering a Plan B.

To that end, there's really just one alternative: drive.  Drive, and find a sunny spot. Go where the sun is, and the clouds aren't.

On the surface, I have no problem with that. If I have to head west early that morning, toward Colorado, in search a little patch of blue, I will. Driving long distances is nothing to me (truth be told, once I'm out on the road, I'll be resisting a small but potent urge to stay out there).

The trick, though, is that I have to stay within the path of totality. That's the whole reason I'm doing this. If I were okay viewing a partial eclipse, I wouldn't be bothering with a road trip at all. I'd just step outside in my bathrobe and check out what's going to be at least a 70 percent event where I live. (Although, on that same NJ.com interactive map, the likelihood of clear viewing in west-central Wisconsin is currently listed as "Poor".)

But no, I want to see the moon's fully monty, and I'm willing to trek further to make that happen without clouds getting in the way. But that means I have to do it along the 70-mile wide track where the moon's shadow will be complete. And that track does not follow a straight line, but rather bends across the country in a mild arc, which means I won't simply be able to head west toward Colorado, I'll have to head north-west (a little at a time) toward Wyoming.

Zig-zagging my way through Nebraska in a frenetic navigation of Interstates and county roads just to keep within the path of totality could turn into an exercise in frustration really fast. And truth be told, if a storm front happens to sweep across the nation's midsection overnight Sunday and keeps the whole area under cloud cover Monday, I'll pretty much be sunk. I'll only be able to drive so far before having to head back. I mean, come on, I don't want to be stuck calling into work on Tuesday from Washington State....or South Carolina (if I head east).

Er, do I...? ;-)

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When viewing the eclipse, make sure you protect your eyes. Granted, you'll have to go out in public with something like these on, but wouldn't it be nice to be able to see afterward? (Besides, don't these puppies scream "Hollywood"?  ;-)

Mini-road trip in the works to fully enjoy the "Great American Eclipse"...

So, for a variety of reasons, most of which have to do with money, some of which have to do with laziness, I simply wasn't able to make 1/48/50 happen this summer. I guess I never really thought I'd be able to (damn it, I have to start planning seriously at some point...), but I imagined it would be nice to be out and fully nebulous for the "Great American Eclipse", which will happen just over a week from now, August 21, when the moon passes in front of the sun directly over the continental United States for the first time in 38 years.

It's too bad 1/48/50 couldn't happen, but I'm taking a drive nevertheless. The eclipse will be partially visible where I live, but I'm seeking out the "path of totality", which, yes, sounds like the title of some prog band's concept album, but is actually the narrow strip of the moon's shadow (or umbra) that will create complete darkness for a few spell-binding minutes.

It wasn't easy to find a hotel room. All along that path of totality (which traverses 11 states, from Oregon to South Carolina), hotels, resorts, inns and B&B's have been booked solid for months, but I was lucky to find a place right near the Nebraska/Kansas border, and for a low rate too.

Of course, I'm hoping "low rate" doesn't come with complementary fleas and bed bugs. :-/

Weather also is a potential problem. The area I'm driving to isn't known for long stretches of cloudy days this time of year, but it is known for thunderstorms. The eclipse starts around 11 a.m., with totality taking place at 1:00 p.m., hopefully before any storms start popping off.

Right now the forecast for the town I'm staying in on August 21: "Clear, high of 88, low of 60." I'm sure hoping that holds.

50/50 - Map showing probability of clear skies on August 21, 2017, during the "Great American Eclipse". My search for the "path of totality" will bring me down to the Nebraska/Kansas/Missouri region, where, judging by the map key, there seems to be a fifty/fifty chance of cloudy skies raining on the moon's parade.  Image: Joshua Stevens/NASA

But hey, whatever happens - fleas, bedbugs or inclement weather - no regrets. Truth is, I'll drive wherever I have to for clear skies, and sleep in my car if need be.

I've more or less been planning this road trip for 38 years.

RE-POST: Upcoming Solar Eclipse Might Make 2017 the Perfect Summer to "Live Nebulously", at Least for a Little While

Even if I can't set off on my epic 14,000 mile cross-country drive this summer, it would still be an ideal time for a road trip of some sort, seeing as a monumental solar event is expected to take place, and seeing as I have a specific childhood memory related to it:

There was a solar eclipse on February 26, 1979, my kindergarten year.  It was not a total eclipse where I was, but it was visible enough for our class to be called to the south-facing windows of the school to view with those cardboard box contraptions, called sunscopes, which 'project' an image of the eclipse through a pinhole. I can recall being amazed and excited by the concept of darkness during the day (I still am...), and even more so by the teacher informing us, as we each took a turn putting our head inside that box, that we would all be forty-four years old the next time something like this occurred.

I'm not sure how she knew this, she must have consulted some kind of almanac, but she actually named our future age, seemingly right off the top of her head, and her exact words ("forty-four") have stayed with me all these years. They were my introduction to the concept of myself as something other than what I saw in the mirror. I can recall - quite vividly - being able to picture myself as a grown-up, viewing an eclipse in an otherwise completely unimaginable future.

Sure enough, her prediction was right on the money. A total solar eclipse will indeed take place on August 21, 2017, and I will be forty-four years old, just as Mrs. Leciejewski said.

And who knows...with any luck, on the road somewhere.

The 1979 event dealt just a glancing blow to northern Wisconsin. The path of totality - that relatively narrow track of the moon's shadow that gets plunged into total darkness for a few minutes - swept through Washington State, Idaho and Montana, but then swung northward toward the arctic. But this time, it will sweep straight through the middle of the country. According to Wikipedia, the longest duration of total darkness will occur in Shawnee National Forest, south of Carbondale, Illinois.

February 26, 1979 - A total solar eclipse's path of totality (in blue) delivered a glancing blow only to the extreme northwestern states, but the event was partially visible through the south-facing windows of little ol' Beaser Elementary School in Ashland, Wisconsin....on the shore of Lake Superior.  ;-) 

Animation Courtesy of Andrew Sinclair
 http://web.archive.org/web/20080121012947/http://members.aol.com/eclsat3

August 21, 2017 - A total solar eclipse will sweep straight through the center of the U.S., with the "path of totality" being visible in a number of states, from west coast to east coast.  

Images courtesy of Eclipse Predictions by Fred Espenak, NASA's GSFC - http://eclipse.gsfc.nasa.gov/.

It's only going to last less than three minutes, but what a potent show it's going to be. And how cool would it be if I were on the road somewhere, living nebulously, when it occurs?

But honestly, how cool would it be to view even if I'm not actually on 1/48/50, even if August 21 turns out to be just any old Monday?  The eclipse will be visible from all over, but I really like the thought of viewing it from somewhere in the path of totality. I might just take a mini-road trip, if I can. I'm only nine hours from Carbondale, Illinois.

I could drive that in my sleep.

If I'm going to do it, however, I better make arrangements now...or be prepared to sleep in my car.

I guess I could do that in my sleep too. ;-)

Upcoming Solar Eclipse Might Make 2017 the Perfect Summer to Live Nebulously

All right, that's enough of that. All summer I've been lazing in the sunshine, listening to the greatest albums of all time, but three months of day-lit daydreaming was extinguished this week with the arrival of severe storms, followed by a brisk northerly wind pushing them to the east. Now, mornings are cooler, evenings shorter, sunlight denser in the afternoon. The trees are starting to change.

If I were on 1/48/50 right now, going by the course I've mapped out as it corresponds to the May-October timetable I've decided on, I guess I'd be somewhere in New England...Maine probably. And I'm not going to lie: I'd bet Maine is a nice, nice place to be in September.

But I'm not on 1/48/50...not now...not yet. Here in west-central Wisconsin, autumn is always a busy time. I like autumn, and don't dread winter like I used to, but as this summer has wound down, and people have gotten themselves back into the daily grooves that propel them forward, it's occurred to me that time's flying past at breakneck speed, and I have to start thinking about this road trip more seriously.

I really need to start making plans. I'm two and a half years into this blog, and now have less than eight to take the trip before I turn fifty. And truth be told, fifty is just the final deadline. The earlier the better.

2017 would be an ideal summer to make it happen, seeing as a monumental solar event is expected to take place that year, and seeing as I have a specific childhood memory related to it.

There was a solar eclipse on February 26, 1979, my kindergarten year. It was not a total eclipse where I was, but it was visible enough for our class to be called to the south-facing windows of the school to view with those cardboard box contraptions, called sunscopes, which 'project' an image of the eclipse through a pinhole. I can recall being amazed and excited by the concept of darkness during the day (I still am...), and even more so by the teacher informing us, as we each took a turn putting our head inside that box, that we would all be forty-four years old the next time something like this occurred.

She actually told us this, and her words have stayed with me all these years. They were my introduction to the concept of myself as something other than what I saw in the mirror. I can recall - quite vividly - being able to picture myself a grown-up, viewing an eclipse in an otherwise completely unimaginable future. And sure enough, her prediction was right on the money. A total solar eclipse will indeed take place on August 21, 2017, and I will be, as Mrs. Lojewski said, forty-four years old.

And who knows...with any luck, on the road somewhere.

Whereas the 1979 event was just a glancing visual blow in northern Wisconsin (the path of totality - that relatively narrow track of the eclipse that gets plunged into total darkness for a few minutes - swept through Washington State, Idaho and Montana, but then swung northward toward the arctic), this time it will stretch straight through the middle of the country. According to Wikipedia, the longest duration of totality, weather permitting, will occur in Shawnee National Forest, south of Carbondale, Illinois.

February 26, 1979 - A total solar eclipse's path of totality (in blue) delivered a glancing blow only to the extreme northwestern states, but the event was partially visible through the south-facing windows of little ol' Beaser Elementary School in Ashland, Wisconsin....on the shore of Lake Superior.  ;-) 

Animation Courtesy of Andrew Sinclair
 http://web.archive.org/web/20080121012947/http://members.aol.com/eclsat3

August 21, 2017 - A total solar eclipse will shoot straight through the center of the U.S., with the path of totality being visible in a number of states, from west coast to east coast.  

Images courtesy of Eclipse Predictions by Fred Espenak, NASA's GSFC - http://eclipse.gsfc.nasa.gov/.

How splendid would it be if I were on the road somewhere, living nebulously, when this occurs?

But honestly, how splendid would it be to view even if I'm not on 1/48/50, even if August 21, 2017 turns out to be just any old Monday? I might very well take a mini-road trip to the path of totality, if I can. I'm only nine hours from Carbondale. I can drive that in my sleep. ;-)

It just would be so nice to keep on driving afterwards, once the moon has passed, and daylight returns...