Yes, that's right. With my very own camera I took these photos during the eclipse (you probably heard about it), capturing ... something. Something Big Government doesn't want you to know about. Or maybe Big Pharma. Or Big NASA, I don't know--someone.

 

 But they couldn't hide it during the eclipse, which, as you know, is when elephants riding the giant turtle that holds up the Earth come out to change the light bulb. Too many cameras these days, thanks to Big Kodak. In the end the conspirators shot themselves in the Big Foot.

 

 

The hidden planet Nemesis is revealed! Those blue dots are probably its moons, Neme and Sis.  

 

 

Or maybe not: The Earth has more than one Moon! And more than one sun, judging by the direction of their shadowed areas. This is one crowded solar system.

 

 

An out of control UFO! Probably piloted by Elon Musk, from his home planet, Nemesis. Or maybe it's bringing Elvis back, that would explain why its hips are gyrating.  

 

 

The Eye of Sauron! Tolkein was right! Or maybe it's Cthuklhu emerging. But I pick Sauron, which is easier to spell. 

So there you have it. We weren't just taking in a temporary totality too long: We were exposing the secrets Big Big didn't want you to know. And that's big.

 


 

Remember: Whether you're watching the sky or reading, pull the car over first.

 I didn't intend to take a lot of quality photos during the 2024 solar eclipse, for one simple reason: Lots of people would get much better pictures, so why worry?

At the entrance to Summit Lake State Park, which is--I don't know--in Central Indiana somewhere, we saw a car that advertised an owner who was really serious about the Search for ExtraTerrestrial Intelligence. I'll bet that entire luggage rack held camera equipment.

 

We parked right beside a guy who told us he drove here from Colorado, after first planning to see the eclipse in Texas. His instincts were right on: He barely missed hurricane force winds in his home state, and avoided driving into rainstorms down south. Above is his telescope/camera, which took a time lapse of the eclipse and set him back about five thousand bucks.

The cost of my camera? Well, take off a zero, for starters.

Then there was the family that set up on the other side of us:

I don't know where they were from, but they were also very nice folk who, despite having kids, clearly didn't lack spending money.

I experimented, and managed to get this photo pre-totality, by putting eclipse glasses over the lens. This worked only when I forgot to turn off the flash, for which I have no explanation.

I told you all that to explain why I'm very proud of this last photo. No, it's nowhere good as the more experienced photographers with more expensive setups, but honestly, I didn't expect to get this at all:


It wasn't about getting photos, not for us. It was about experiencing it. After seeing the one in 2017, we knew that if we got lucky and the weather broke out way, we were in for an unforgettable experience. We were right. Totality worth it.





 

Remember: The sky above is full of all sorts of amazing things, and only a few of them can hurt you.



It was one of my earliest memories.

Six days earlier, I turned seven. It was one heck of a birthday present.

Human beings landing on the surface of another heavenly body. It's hard to remember, fifty years after, just how remarkable that was. In 1969 it had been only twelve years since anything made by humans was launched into orbit, let alone 300,000 miles further on to the Moon.Only eight years before (fourteen months before my birth), the first American was shot into space.

It was all new.

I remember it being taller.

Cars were being designed with rocketship-like fins on them. Star Trek and Lost in Space were on TV. (My very earliest memory is hiding behind my mother while she ironed clothes and watched a particularly scary scene from Star Trek.) My Christmas gifts? Action figures from the Matt Mason astronaut collection, and a complete Apollo rocket that, with a click, shot the Apollo capsule into the air.

We were space nuts because space was, perhaps literally, the future.

Or so we thought.

"I'm Matt Mason, and I"m bendy!"
 I remember one aunt claiming that the Moon landings never really happened. Yes, that was a thing even back then. The rest of us sat transfixed in front of our television sets, which themselves were the size of an Apollo capsule, and similarly colorless. We watched the launches, the landings, the splashdowns, even the retrieval as helicopters set the capsules down on the deck of a handy aircraft carrier.

One day our teacher brought a portable TV into the classroom--by portable, I mean it could be picked up by one person, assuming that one person had been working out. She adjusted the rabbit ears until a kinda-sorta picture came on, and we sat silently, watching one of the Apollo capsules splash down in the Pacific.

Thanks to Dee Williams, who gave me these as a reminder of the kitchen's piece of Apollo.


It was an early experiment in bringing technology into the classroom, and it sure worked for us ... although I wouldn't see a TV in class again until high school.

Oddly enough, I have no memory of the Apollo 13 crisis, and I wonder now if my parents didn't keep the news from me. Maybe they figured, correctly, that I had anxieties of my own without learning that my real life heroes were only human, after all. But otherwise, I was all about space.

Just to be clear, this is the real thing.
Can it really have been fifty years?

What the hell happened? We were supposed to be on Mars by now. Where's the Moonbase? Why isn't Southwest Airlines booking cheap flights to a space station? Where the heck are the ray guns, and the communicators?

Well, okay, never mind the communicator.

I was supposed to be up there, dammit. During winter I'd tie the hood of my coat tight around my face, and pretend I was in a spacesuit. Granted that space is warmer than Indiana winters of my youth, but still.

I'm what people call a fiscal conservative. I don't think any government should spend beyond their means, and I'm very much against throwing money around just because you can print more. Heaven knows manned space exploration is almost as expensive as a presidential election campaign.

But this is one area in which we should be spending more.

"That's one small step for half a billion ..."
The advantages of space exploration are enormous. Big enough to justify the expense, with all the other problems in the world? I would argue yes, but not just the missions themselves. It requires an investment in science, and that requires an investment in people: education, interest, employment. Discoveries that will lead to another wave of innovation and invention. Imagine the materials, knowledge, and technology that came out of the Apollo era, and imagine that continuing on, with a new generation.

A new generation. I think one of the problems with the world today is that we've lost our love of discovery just for the sake of discovery. Yes, exploration can bring us that new technology, those new jobs, maybe solutions to today's problems. But more important than that, it's time to make kids wonder again.

We need to be able to sit our kids in front of the TV again, and let them see real wonders, going on right before their eyes. Well, maybe not TV; maybe online, or on their phones, or visors, or their cyber-optic implants. Mankind has always thrilled in that exploration, that discovery. Reestablishing manned space exploration--preferably as a species, rather than as a country--might be just what it takes to get us moving forward as a people again.

Okay, so maybe it's too late for me to go up there. But I have grandchildren, now. And maybe, fifty years from now, people will be telling the story of when they landed ... somewhere.
 

When I was supposed to be sleeping the other day I woke up with a stomach ache (long story), and went downstairs for some soda crackers and 7 Up. (They're called soda crackers, so you have to drink soda with them. That's the law.) Naturally I flipped on the TV, only to discover we were thirty second from launching a car into space.

By "we" I mean Elon Musk, the rather eccentric rich guy head of SpaceX, who I now love more than ever in a not creepy sort of way.

So I got to see it live, and it was so much fun I could almost forget the part about how I spent the rest of that afternoon in the bathroom, doing a little launching of my own. (Long story. Never mind, I'll write about it later.)

Musk was testing the Falcon Heavy rocket, the biggest space vehicle since the shuttle. He intends to use it to send people to interesting places like the Moon, Mars, and Uranus, which I understand is infested with asteroids. Since this was a test--Musk actually said pre-launch that the chance of failure was high--he decided not to put any important cargo on board. But he needed something to test its payload capacity, some weight ... and, looking around, he spotted the vast warehouse that contained his collection of over ten thousand cars.

I'm making that part up. All I can say is that if I had several billion dollars, I'd be launching stuff into space, and I'd also have a collection of antique fire trucks in a vast warehouse. Clearly he and I are virtual twins.

Anyway, he did happen to have a Tesla roadster sitting around, and also a mannequin dressed in a spacesuit. I'm trying hard not to judge, here. Besides, I'd have a spacesuit, too.

So he set the spaceman in the Tesla, a detail I didn't know about when I turned on the TV and found a giant spaceship on the pad. After launch the two booster rockets, in a display worthy of an Olympic event, landed simultaneously, ready to be reused. The main booster ... not so much, but two out of three ain't bad. Then the spaceship went into orbit around the Earth, and its roof retracted, and ... wow.

The last official Instagram from "Starman".

 

When Emily came in I got the footage online and played the whole thing over, still grinning ear to ear. It was just so cool. Elon Musk, in addition to understanding that the future of mankind lies in space, also has a great sense of showmanship and humor. When I grow up I want to be just like him, especially the rich part.

Musk sent the Tesla into deep space, having said there was a slim chance it might actually hit Mars, although apparently it wasn't aimed directly at the Red Planet. Instead the rocket overshot its mark, and is now on a long loop that will take it into the Asteroid Belt. I wouldn't be surprised if Musk did that on purpose, just to show off the capabilities of his rocket. I mean, the thing can haul 64 tons, so what's a sports car and an astronaut? Talk about an off-road race.

I applaud Elon Musk, and not just because I want him to send me seed money to launch my writing career. Space is still hard and dangerous, but it's also full of possibilities in resources, knowledge, innovation, and just plain being neat. One of the problems with the world today is that so many of us no longer have a sense of wonder, or understand the value of exploration for the sake of discovery. We need to get that back. And with our politicians busy infighting and backstabbing, it may be innovators like Musk who will take us into the next phase of the human adventure.

Or at least send me some cash.

I took a few photos when we were in Missouri to see the total eclipse, and I thought I'd pass some on. Not of the eclipse itself--the video I posted a few days ago is about the best I could do with that.

 

We were at the Meramec State Park near Sullivan, Missouri. You can learn more about it here:

http://www.meramecpark.com/

 

I've been describing it as central Missouri, but it's only about 60 miles from St. Louis, so it's really more east central Missouri. It has rugged hiking trails, caves, zero cell phone reception (which is both a good and bad thing), and it edges the Meramec River, so there's the swimming and boating thing. A really nice place that we're hoping to visit again something, a couple of hours from Emily's parents' house.

 

More about the park later--I have lots of pictures. But I didn't have the best camera there:

 

 

There was a good crowd, and we were thankful to have headed there in the wee hours of the morning, even though the roads there and the park itself were both pretty out of the way.

 

The park had a big awning up with activities and information, and even a board where visitors could show they were there:

 

As cool as the partial eclipse was, the wait for totality seemed to take forever, especially with the temperature hovering at around a million degrees while we stood in the sun and stared upward. Did I complain? I did not, having been convinced for weeks that it would be cloudy that day, wherever we were. The good thing about being a pessimist is that you're never disappointed.

 

 

Some of us were more relaxed than others:

Considering how much my neck hurt the next day, he has a point. But considering how little he moved throughout the lead-up to totality, I wonder how sunburned he got--we kept ducking back under the trees--and whether his eyes were sore later. At least he brought enough cigarettes.

 

As the eclipse advanced, we began to see a curious effect that's common with partial eclipses. The vanishing sun continued to shine through the trees, which produced a pinhole effect that allowed us to see the eclipse on the ground below:

 

As it grew darker, a dog that belonged to people nearby dragged his blanket out, pulled it into a circle, and got ready for bed. He was very confused when nap time ended so quickly.

 

And then: totality.

Yeah, that's totality. It's just that my camera couldn't handle it. Here's Venus coming out, beside a jet contrail:

Seeing some of the other cameras set up there, I'll bet there are a whole bunch of much better pictures. I took a few and then put the camera down. Emily and I just stood there with our arms around each other, taking it in. I've said it before: Even the best photographs, with the best cameras, don't begin to do a total eclipse justice. There's nothing like seeing it with your own eyes. And, although we certainly had ups and downs on that trip--it was totality worth it.

 

A lousy video, but what I thought you'd be interested in is the reaction of the crowd:

http://markrhunter.blogspot.com/2017/08/a-video-of-eclipse-no-really-video-of.html

I'll have more about the eclipse and the trip, which got complicated and was very much good news/bad news, later. There was often little or no internet where we were, so I'm playing catch up, but I can tell you this: That 1,400 mile drive was totally worth it.
ozma914: (Dorothy and the Wizard)
( Aug. 7th, 2015 03:57 pm)

An awe-inspiring look at the far side of the Moon:

 

http://news.nationalgeographic.com/2015/08/150806-DSCOVR-EPIC-NOAA-NASA-GIF/

 

A spacecraft catches the Moon as it passes Earth, giving us a view of the mysterious far side.

I’m not all that into birthdays anymore, except for the cake and ice cream part. The truth is, I wish people would celebrate my birthday by buying one (or more) of my books, giving them the gift and me the sales.

 

But this year, NASA is giving me the biggest birthday present ever: New Horizons is going to be the first (human) probe ever to reach Pluto, and its closest approach to the planet (yeah, I said it) will be on my birthday … although we won’t see the pictures until hours later.

 

http://www.space.com/topics/new-horizons/

 

As a guy whose earliest memory is watching the Apollo Moon landings, this does my space-loving heart good.

.

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