Reflections on the 2024 Eclipse

It's not been quite 48 hours since "the event", and I'm taking a couple days to relax with my wife in Texas before re-entering the world I normally inhabit on Monday. But - what an experience it was! Exhilarating, tiring, triumphant, tense, communal, frenetic, and blessed are all terms I'd use in describing it.

The Long Term Prep

Like many who saw the 2017 Great American Eclipse my planning to be in the path of totality in 2024 started not long after that marvelous eclipse experience, with things becoming serious (i.e., investing money and whitling down locations) about 18 months ago. The weather history for early April indicated that Texas was likely the place to be to avoid being clouded out. I found a lakeside Airbnb spot in Flint, TX from which I could head out early the morning of the eclipse to dodge clouds if needed, so I paid the deposit and crossed my fingers.

Other investments happened over the next year and a half. One significant one was acquiring a full frame camera since my existing Canon t6i which I used in 2017 is a cropped sensor model. I got a treasure trove of shots out of that setup, but I could see that I was limiting capture of the full glory of the corona. And with this one happening close to Solar Maximum, I felt a wider view was worth picking up a second-hand Mark II camera. The addition of some solar filters (a Baader mylar for the Vixen to hopefully improve crispness of the view and a set for my 15x70 Oberwek binoculars) was also undertaken.

A preliminary dry run in February showed me that while the camera battery would hold up for the length of the eclipse, my laptop would not have enough juice. To solve that issue I ordered a simple Jackery backup battery unit for a couple hundred dollars. The nice thing about that is it'll come in handy after the eclipse around the home when we get a power outage.

Dress Rehearsal

An inexpensive and easy item to add to the mix was a temperature recorder. I got that as a gift when celebrating my March birthday and added it to my staging area of eclipse equipment.

Time and training were also expended in the lead up to this eclipse. The 2017 images came at an expense, and I'm not speaking financially. I did not have a software program to control the camera so I opted for manually firing off shots using my pad connected to the camera. That meant I spent way too much time looking at the eclipse on my screen rather than gazing upward and soaking in the surreal scene before me. This time around I was determined to minimize my engagement with equipment and researched the available software to automate taking exposures of the eclipse, settling on SETnC. A couple more runs using the software gave me a feeling of confidence that I could give it the reins on eclipse day.

While that probably should have been enough, I was fascinated in a couple of other phenomenon that only emerge during an eclipse like this. One was the affect of the thin crescent Sun on casting shadows; another was witnessing a Purkinje effect on red/green colors. My young grandson Noah and I spent some quality time on a Saturday creating a contraption that had 3 rods separated by 45° that would test the theory. Picking up a high school science fair tagboard completed the work, serving as a backdrop for our shadow caster and our red & green Purkinje photo. 

By the middle of March my armamentarium was established for hopefully maximizing my enjoyment and recording memories of the experience:

• The 80mm f/7.5 Vixen refractor teamed up with the Canon Mark II and SETnC would be photographing the event using the Baader filter. My lightweight HEM27 mount would carry the payload.
  
  
• The Canon t6i with its crop sensor would sit atop a tripod to capture wide field images using SETnC running on a spare laptop that we have. I also planned at mid-eclipse to flip the mode to video to capture the last minute or so of totality.
  
  
• A tripod and smart camera adapter so I could use the phone to record the totality experience I underwent along with the reactions of whomever (or whatever) was around me.
  
  
• My 15x70 Oberwek binoculars fitted with Seymour mylar filters to monitor the partial phases and drink in a close up view of the eclipsed Sun.
  
  
• My science fair tagboard with its payload of the Tomney Shadow Casting Experiment / Purkinje Experiment / Temperature Monitoring Experiment.

The Week Prior

About a week out I began to assess (and obsess over) the weather predictions for Texas on April 8th. One of the better sites I found was Pivotal Weather which had a dedicated eclipse page that showed predicted cloud cover for the eclipse path. It allowed the user to pick a state as well as one of several models to guesstimate their chances of seeing the eclipse. Texas started off looking pretty grim; actually a large swath of the path as it emerged from Mexico and ran up middle America looked to be questionable. The northeast, however, looked to have significantly better prospects. 

The Thursday before the eclipse required a decision on the general area of the country that I'd travel to in hopes of seeing this eclipse. Texas cloud cover had improved slightly but they were also now talking about the area at risk for severe weather. Clouded out is one thing, but trying to break down equipment in the face of a fast approaching thunderstorm is another. I pulled the trigger and canceled my reservation so that I could get at least a partial refund.

With Texas off the board the decision became - where to? The northeast continued to hold promise, with the farther north and east you went with the better prospects. Having made the trip to Stellafane several times as well as vacations in Maine I knew that the I-95 corridor was often congested in normal situations, and I had visions of sitting in an interstate traffic jam somewhere outside the path of totality when the moment came. The better strategy seemed to be to target upstate New York. If the approaching clouds from the west were tardy I could set up in the Rochester area. If they were advancing I could try to outrun them by going to Plattsburg near the Vermont border. 

At this point I needed to locate a place that would allow me to wake up early on eclipse day and head out to wherever seemed best. The law of supply and demand was in full force, with simple 2-star hotels commanding several hundred dollars to spend Sunday night. Airbnb was also picked over, but I did find a room in the Finger Lakes region for under a hundred dollars. Didn't need fancy, just clean and comfortable enough to grab some sleep before setting off. I also found a more conventional booking in New Paltz along the NY State Thruway for the evening after the eclipse to avoid having to drive all the way back home in what was predicted to be heavy traffic.

Finalizing Destination

Saturday I laid out all the equipment so as to not forget anything. Sunday morning I packed the car and drove the 5 hours to the Airbnb accommodation. The host was probably as excited to see me as I was about the eclipse since I was actually her first customer. After grabbing a nice dinner at a local place she recommended I came back and reviewed the forecasts. The weather on the drive up was spectacular with clear, cerulean skies that would be ideal for viewing any celestial event. By evening there were telltale signs of an approaching front as some high cirrus began to arrive in the west. At that point the die was cast on Plattsburg in hopes that the cloud deck would hold off until after the eclipse. I finalized my SETnC exposure grid for Plattsburg and turned in to get some sleep.

Sleep was fitful and maybe totaled 4 hours, getting up at 6am to place my bags in the car and head off towards my destination. Dawn's early light revealed poor conditions with a Sun covered by fairly dense cirrus clouds, but as I made my way east they did thin until eventually they were backlit by a blue sky. Some large sections of the sky actually looked pretty decent as my route swung north for the final hour's march towards Plattsburg. The traffic on I-87 up to the city was probably above average but thankfully not onerous. 

The internet is truly an amazing resource. My advance scouting of Plattsburg using satellite views allowed me to identify the Champlain Center Mall as a good location to set up shop along the parking lot's outer perimeter. I arrived about 11:30 am and found the mall easily, doing a drive around to scout it out on the ground. People were already setting up blankets and lawn chairs on the grassy area at the entrance to the place, which was a good sign indicating the mall was allowing people to view the eclipse from their property. I thought about joining them briefly but then realized that I'd likely attract a crowd that could inadvertently compromise my eclipse objectives. Outreach needed to take a back seat today. After circling the mall I headed off to find a local fast food spot for a bite to eat and final pre-eclipse restroom break. 

Pre-Totality

Even in the parking lot on the back side of the Champlain Center Mall there were a few people gathering. I picked a spot that looked like I would not be obstructed by any light poles and began unpacking the equipment. I used compass and noon-time shadows to guesstimate the true north location and aligned the mount. Mounting the Vixen and attaching the camera to it came next, with the usual battle trying to get the setup reasonably balanced (I have to resort to jury-rigging some ankle weights to the front of the scope to achieve it). Slewing the scope to the Sun was off the target but not horribly, so I felt it was workable. By this time it is after 1 p.m. and we are on eclipse time now where everything seems to be moving faster than you'd like! I set up the three tripods (one for binoculars, one for Canon 6ti, and one for smart phone) and attach the Oberwerks to their mount with solar filters in place. The view is clean and shows one prominent sunspot (AR3628) and a couple of smaller ones.

I turn my attention to connecting the laptop to the Canon Mark II on the telescope and press the power button. Nothing. Nothing lights up. OK, do not panic, maybe it's out of juice and just needs the external battery I've brought. I fish the AC adapter out and plug it in to the Jackery. Oh my God - still nothing. I spend about 5 minutes trying to see if I can get it up but no luck. Time to pivot on the fly. I decide that the spare laptop that was to run the wide-field photo sequence of shots on the Canon t6i would instead be used for orchestrating the images snapped through the telescope. I'll just do the t6i partial shots manually and at totality take the filter off and switch it to video mode. 

By now I have a couple of visitors, and we chat while I am setting up and checking the equipment, exchanging pleasantries and backgrounds as I wrestle to secure the tagboard in place at the front of my car. Despite my efforts to stabilize it the wind keeps knocking it over, and the duct tape I brought is really not doing the job of helping to stabilize the shadow experiment on it. One of my new found friends, Navaneet, offers to work on it so that I can focus on a last minute check of laptop connectivity to the camera as we hit 2 p.m. with only minutes to go before C1. The sky has been gradually accumulating cirrus clouds over the last hour, making me wonder how well - or even if - we'll be able to see the total phase of the eclipse with its delicate corona. I try to be stoic about the prospects of missing it after all this effort and offer a last minute prayer that it doesn't worsen.

At 2:13 p.m. I hear the SETnC click off a series of pre-eclipse exposures, and a minute later we see the Moon take its first nibble out of the Sun's edge. The software appears to be doing fine, taking exposures every five minutes. The tracking of the mount is another matter - it is adequate but not as good as I would have liked, forcing me to check and recenter the Sun about every 5 minutes. The alignment was clearly not as good as I had hoped, but it is not something to mess with now. Every time I hear the Vixen fire off shots I step over to the Canon taking wide field shots and take a set manually. The cirrus cloud deck is persistent and possibly thickening, making me worry that totality will be very compromised. There are no nearby trees to see mini-crescents filtered through natural pin-hole cameras, and the little leather medallion that I brought does not seem to be serving as a pin-hole projection tool as I had hoped.

Totality

By 3:20 p.m. we're a little more than five minutes away from C2 and the start of totality. The sunlight is now that dim, twilight sort of intensity that seems so odd in the afternoon and a hallmark of an eclipse. The time crunch is on as I hurry to try to ensure everything is ready, especially re-centering in the scope and verifying focus there and at the wide field camera. I start my FB live session and position the smart phone to frame the Sun near the top of the frame so that the parking lot and small crowd is visible. 

Suddenly the SETnC calls out "Remove Filters!" and it's on. I start by pulling the filter from the Vixen and then move to the t6i to remove its filter and flip it to video. I look up just in time to see a stunningly beautiful Diamond Ring fading out at about the 11 o'clock position. The corona emerges and all my concerns about it being hidden vanish. I look over and see a couple of my new eclipse friends still wearing the glasses. "Get your glasses off!" I shout, and as they remove them they gasp and shout in amazement.

Diamond Ring at C2

The corona looks relatively round visually - no long streamers noticed despite us being at Solar Maximum (or perhaps the fainter portions are being obscured by the thin clouds - a likely scenario). I look around and easily notice Venus and Jupiter farther above it, pointing them out to the folks nearby. Other stars and planets may be visible but I don't spend a lot of time searching for them since we don't have good sky transparency. 

Full Eclipsed Sun with Corona

Suddenly someone in the crowd calls out "the seagulls - listen to them!" Like many malls near water, there's a collection of opportunistic gulls here, and they are obviously startled by the sudden darkness that has descended as they call out in mass and fly about. Of my three TSE experiences this is the first one where I've witnessed the impact on animals in the area. I then shift my attention to take in the beautiful 360° sunset that appears to be occurring on the horizon.

At this point I realize that I have yet to look through the binoculars! I quickly move over to them and remove the filters and recenter the eclipsed Sun. I let out an audible gasp as I see the glowing corona surrounding the black orb in the sky. Along the edge of the Moon there are hot pink areas and a couple of prominences. At the bottom of the disk is a riveting, large prominence that commands attention. I invite those around me to take a look at this stunning and ephemeral view of the Sun. As I glance back to the Sun I can hardly believe my eyes: that prominence is actually visible naked-eye! Just how massive is this thing!!

Solar Prominences on Display

The Denouement

Baily's Beads at C3

All too soon the SETnC barks out "Apply Filters!", signaling the end of the totality and emergence of the C3 Diamond Ring as the Sun reclaims its dominance in the sky. I quickly move the binoculars off the Sun and throw pillow cases over the scope and t6i camera. I sign off on the FB live stream and stand there pondering what I've just experienced. I'm filled with emotions - grateful that all the planning and driving paid off, thrilled at the soul-touching spectacle I just witnessed, a tinge of sadness that this is quite likely the last TSE I'll be able to see, and hopeful that I'll have some wonderful images for my scrapbook. But regardless of what's on the SD card I am convinced that my decision to focus more on experiencing the totality as opposed to capturing it was a great decision.

With a thin crescent in the sky it's prime time to check out the shadow and Purkinje experiments. Glancing at the red-green-blue block photo I cannot really discern any desaturation among the green and red. The shadow experiment, however, pays off. There is a clear difference in the shadows created by the rods, with the one roughly horizontal (i.e., more tangential to the crescent Sun) is much sharper than the vertical one. 

The Shadow Experiment: A is sharper than B, C 

I reattach the filters in time for the first round of post-totality partial shots. As in my previous eclipse experiences the crowd heads for the exits, a vain effort to escape the traffic jams that are coming. My eclipse friends leave their email addresses and we'll exchange images. One of them, Harry, had brought a drone that he launched just prior to C2 in an effort to record the shadow approaching. That will be interesting to see.

Like sitting through the movie's credits I dutifully continue to document the Moon's egress from the Solar disk. I begin to selectively pack up the car and glance to my left where one can see the nearby I-87 traffic. It's already a rolling backup, and I just hope that by some miracle by the time I leave it's better. By 4:37 p.m. the Moon exits and the Great North American Eclipse of 2024 is in the history books. I methodically break down the remaining equipment and pack it into the Rogue for my trip down the NY Thruway to New Paltz. 

The Epic Traffic Jam

I consider trying to grab some dinner but the few nearby places I check out have significant lines. I head for the interstate and make a pit stop to get some water at a quickie mart. I hoped to use the restroom but again, long line there. I enter the hotel's address and start the navigation. 

Traffic is a rolling backlog with a few rare exceptions that tease me. The navigation app is chronically telling me "there's a backup ahead but you are still on the fastest route." It also is unwittingly funny with the occasional warning "there's a speed trap ahead" when we are hitting top speeds of 30 mph. 

On a normal day one could expect to go from Plattsburg to New Paltz in about 3½ hours. But today the journey takes 7½, finally arriving at the hotel at 1:30 a.m. Normally I'd be quite alone checking in at that hour, but instead I see another eclipse family doing the same thing. It's 2 a.m. by the time my head hits the pillow and I'm quickly asleep. 

Epilogue

With the eclipse in my rearview I've taken inventory of how everything panned out following the hours of planning and investment. A quick look at the Mark II SD card reveals a good news - bad news situation. I did indeed get some very nice photos using the automated routine, but somehow the setting was at JPG instead of RAW, which will impact the post-processing capabilities. I also realized that in starting the video of the eclipse I failed to remember to rack the zoom lens fully out to get the largest diameter of the eclipsed Sun. However, the video is a wonderful record and even captures the startled seagulls flying across the frame. I also realize that I totally forgot to have my distance glasses on during the eclipse, so I am left wondering what clarity of the corona I inadvertently compromised. 

Lots of work ahead to process the images and see if the temperature recorder did its job. But it'll all be a labor of love as I create a scrapbook for this successful journey to see one of the most beautiful events in our heavens.