Solar Eclipse
Monday, August 21/17, 10:15am,
Corvallis, Oregon
In late spring my friend Neil posted on Facebook that the solar eclipse would be directly above his home. He generously invited anyone interested to come and watch. I immediately jumped and booked a flight using the last of my Aeroplan points. I jumped because I’d missed my opportunity to view a solar eclipse in my Winnipeg home town on Feb. 26, 1979 and always regretted it. In spite of careful planning I’d got trapped in traffic on Ellice Avenue and missed it because I didn’t have my solar viewing glasses with me. I’d heard somewhere that a solar eclipse passes over everyone’s home once every 375 years. There was no way I’d miss this one.
The night before leaving I’d set my alarm for 4am and Lynn graciously drove me to the airport on a beautiful predawn morning. Perhaps in anticipation of what was coming I noticed a slight crescent moon in the lightening sky on the ride to the airport. There was also a bright star directly above the crescent which I took to be a good omen. By 5:35 on that Saturday I was in the departure lounge awaiting the 6:25 flight to Portland by way of Vancouver. For some reason I was tagged at Security as someone who should be passed quickly through. I was unsure why but was happy about it as I later leaned back and considered the coming extra long weekend.
The previous day Neil and I had exchanged a number of vague texts. His home in Corvallis, Oregon is a couple of hours from Portland International Airport and we still hadn’t quite finalized how I was going to get there. Neil maintains a condo in Vancouver, Washington across the Columbia River from Portland and I’d made a couple of assumptions. Either we’d stay overnight at the condo and travel on the next morning or Neil would have stayed the night before and we’d motor directly to Corvallis after my 10:30am arrival.
A text I’d received just prior to leaving home suggested he wasn’t inclined to put up with the aggravations at the busy airport so he was thinking of arranging a Uber cab to meet me. I should mention that we’d previously had a phone conversation around his picking me up and then flying us to Corvallis in his 1948 Beechcraft V tail. His argument was the flight would only be three quarters of an hour as opposed to a nearly two and half hour drive. As attractive as the time saving seemed I demurred in fear of flying in a small plane.
At 8am I was in Vancouver Airport’s departure lounge waiting for my Portland flight. I had dozed most of the way from Winnipeg and felt pretty good. The lounge was small, packed and I’d never seen so many knapsacks as baggage of choice. There was also clearly a problem as the counter staff had repeatedly announced the plane was overbooked by seven souls. Now close to departure time they were pleading for volunteers to take an $800 credit to change to a 1pm flight. If I could’ve comfortably amended my still as yet still unsure arrangements with Neil I would have jumped at the offer.
Since I’d yet to eat I was almost enjoying a lukewarm coffee and stale blueberry muffin while watching staff try to not panic themselves or passengers as they announced once again the need for seven volunteers. Happily and magically by our 8:30 boarding time the staff had found the necessary seven and began announcing for us to start lining up. But, there was now a new problem. There was a concern there wouldn’t be enough room aboard for everyone’s carry-on. Doubtless this was a direct result of airlines now levying a charge if passengers choose to travel with luggage. The new ask was that if anyone would like their stuff checked they’d be more than happy to accommodate them for no charge.
After sitting on board for a quarter of an hour it was announced “we” had (another) problem. When I was climbing up the stairway to board I’d noticed a puddle on the tarmac beneath the front of the plane and wondered about it. I was clever to wonder as apparently the wet stuff was the blue antiseptic they’d pumped into the plane’s toilet holding tanks. The decision makers were unsure if the puddle was a result of overfilling or something more serious. We were not going anywhere just yet.
As time passed it got quite hot in the plane and seemed to get even hotter when we were told we couldn’t use the toilet. After half an hour the flight staff started handing out water which seemed counter intuitive to me, under the circumstances. Naturally nature started to call on some and a tough situation got tougher. Eventually they let anyone who needed to “go” head out in an escorted group back to the terminal. While the rest of us were waiting for the twenty of them to return the captain came on to advise that normally all of us would’ve had to deplane and then pass through customs again. He proudly claimed that calmer heads had prevailed.
Misery loving company the guy on my left and I started talking. He was from Edmonton and he and his wife were staying the night in Portland before heading to Madras on the east side of the mountains to view the eclipse. Being on the east side of the mountains in desert like conditions almost guaranteed clear skies. Later I’d hear that smoke from forest fires had made things a bit hazy. The next day my seat mate was expecting a twelve hour drive for what was usually only two hours due to the throngs of ageing hippies, new agers and end of time travellers all carrying knapsacks looking to watch the moon pass in front of the sun. My new friend also said he was renting a tent for the night at only $200 out in some rancher’s field because hotels in Madras had been fully booked for three years, the tariff didn’t include bedding. I was happy I was watching from Neil’s front lawn. When finally underway the hour long flight was quite pleasant.
Like everyone else I only had a knapsack so as soon as we landed I moved off the plane and into the concourse quite quickly. The airport was not near as busy as I expected considering the talk of a million visitors for the solar event. I’d no sooner changed my phone from airport mode when Neil rang and said he was out front of the main entrance. He apologized for being late because he didn’t know my flight was an hour behind.
I add here that during the latter stages of the flight I’d hoped against hope the Uber driver, who’d doubtless be holding a sign with my name would take me either the quarter of an hour to the condo (of which I hadn’t the address) or directly to Corvallis. I wasn’t too worried about either scenario or cost because it beat the alternative. Now with Neil standing in front of me the penny dropped as he quite casually announced we were taking his plane. When he’d texted that he wasn’t inclined to come to get me he’d meant driving back and forth to Corvallis. I was somewhat apprehensive but had little choice.
Neil explained we needed a ride to the airfield where he’d left his small plane and he tried and failed a number of times to contact Uber to get us to nearby Pearson Airfield. We ended up taking a regular cab and once in I jokingly wondered why they named the airfield after a Canadian Prime Minister, Neil got it. The driver had no idea who Lester Pearson was nor might I add how to get to the airfield not named in his honour. Nor in fact even how to spell Pearson and this after Neil twice spelled it for him. Eventually my friend input it the driver’s GPS himself.
When finally underway Neil commented the traffic seemed extremely heavy for the time of day. The driver agreed and expected it would take him over an hour to get back to the airport after delivering us. It took twenty minutes to get to the airfield and I handed over three twenties for the $42 fare. The cabby immediately said “God bless you” to which I replied “thanks but I want $10 back”. To be fair I guess he reckoned since his passengers were continuing on in a private plane they must be rich. Unfortunately only one of us was, and he wasn’t the guy paying the fare.
The flight to Corvallis turned out quite nice. Sensing my obvious discomfort Neil chatted continuously as he pointed out what was what around the controls. He also answered my dozens of questions during the forty-five minute sojourn. Flying along at 5,500 feet and 150 kilometers an hour made for spectacular vistas and there was only one point when I was uncomfortable. As we banked to come in to land the plane shook a bit. Once safely on the ground we pushed the surprisingly light weight airplane into its hanger and closed everything up. We were all set to go when Neil couldn’t find his truck keys. Fortunately he’d left them in the ignition of his unlocked vehicle for safekeeping while he’d gone to fetch me in Portland.
When we reached the house I was welcomed warmly by Neil’s family. His sister Lisa had already arrived from her home in Brandon, Manitoba and another couple of old school friends, Phil and wife Henrietta would be arriving sometime in the afternoon from Davis, California. They have a place in Denmark where Henrietta was born and are killing two birds with one stone on the coming weekend. In addition to the eclipse they are picking up Henrietta’s Icelandic horse from where it has been boarded for the summer while they were overseas.
It was a beautiful afternoon and evening so we sat out on the patio and shot the breeze telling tales of the old days until the wee hours. There were stunning shooting stars that night and we saw about half a dozen including one that was so bright none of us had ever seen its like. It was so big and bright we questioned if it was a shooting star.
On Sunday morning at 9:30am with noise coming from the main floor I dragged myself down for an apple and coffee to get the day going. Later Neil, Lisa and I picked an ice cream bucket of blackberries from the hedges surrounding the property. The bushes grew four metres high and were chock full of fruit but the thorns protecting them could tear your clothes off as you walked by. While we were berry picking Phil and Henrietta had gone into town and discovered so many people about they went off to another friend’s home to beg lunch.
Late in the afternoon Neil and I decided to set up lawn chairs and a table down the hill at our viewing spot. The pasture was as dry as burnt toast but it didn’t seem to bother the pet alpacas and goats wandering about. When everything was set up the berry pickers went into town to buy an assortment of pastries to enjoy during the eclipse. While Neil thought Corvallis was busy in no way did he think there were the four hundred thousand visitors that had been predicted for weeks on end.
Monday morning at 7am looked like a perfect day for watching a solar eclipse with nary a cloud in sight. Before heading down for our rendezvous with history we filled a number of thermoses with coffee and packed up the cakes we’d bought. By then we’d been joined by Angie a friend I’d met on an earlier visit.
Our excitement becoming palpable we set off on the couple of hundred meter walk to the viewing site. Happily the animals weren’t interested in science and were off in the shade somewhere. The rest of the morning preparations involved Neil and Phil setting up their cameras on tripods and cleverly covering the lenses with eclipse glasses to avoid burning out the optics of the cameras. Once cameras were set and lawn chairs were arranged to individual preferences we settled down for first views through our glasses. They looked similar to the 3D glasses you get at the movies except you can’t see a thing through them unless you are looking at the sun.
It was barely after nine when we started the countdown watch of the moon starting to move across the sun’s upper right quadrant, making the sun look like a crescent moon. It took nearly an hour and twenty minutes to reach totality and time passed quite slowly with us glancing up every few minutes to watch the progress. It was 35 degrees when the eclipse began but it started to get noticeably cooler as the moon began to block the light. At totality I’d guess it was barely 15 degrees. Immediately thereafter it started to warm just as gradually as the moon moved on. This temperature fluctuation was totally unexpected for all of us and startling.
Phil the scientist had shown us a number of things during the run up to totality. He’d brought along a couple of kitchen colanders and sheets of foolscap. He held a colander up to the light with a piece of paper a foot or so behind to catch shadows enabling you to watch the eclipse as it was happening. Each hole in the colander created a shadow show on the paper. He next poked a small hole in one sheet of paper and held it up to the sun with another sheet an arm length behind, the shadow of the eclipse was readily seen and watchable without the need of the glasses. A few minutes later Phil led us under the trees and there on the ground in the dappled shadows from the leaves above was the same type of effect
When totality came we took off our glasses for the eighty second look directly at the thing we have been unable to look at all our lives. It was barely past ten and yet the twilight made it seem just prior to sunset. A number of stars came out in the dusky conditions and Phil readily identified them for us. We then noticed a jet and vapour trial way up in the heavens. The plane was navigating in a circle around the sun and looked to be very high. While watching the plane circle we saw another couple of vapour trails doing the same thing. After discounting suggestions of fat cats taking their private jets up for a look it was the group’s considered opinion that the planes were doing scientific research.
After witnessing the majesty of the universe there were six changed people in that pasture. We later discovered that while together and sharing the experience during totality each of us felt all alone with our thoughts. We were each unaware for a moment or two of our companions, for me it was all so staggering. I cannot recall a more spiritual moment than when staring up at the black circle of the moon blocking out the same sized sun and revealing a surrounding halo of corona.
Once the eclipse was over the birds thought it was dawn and started chirping and singing. As the clamour from the birds increased none of us wanted to admit that was it over so we moved lawn chairs from under a now unrelenting sun to beneath the canopy of trees alongside a small creek. There we decompressed and talked for a couple of hours.
Reality hit when one of the neighbours decided the best way to celebrate a solar eclipse was to fire a shotgun a dozen times. We didn’t agree and headed back to the house where Neil and Phil put together a video using Neil’s images of the beginning of totality backed by the theme music from 2001 Space Odyssey. It was nicely done and quickly posted to YouTube and Facebook. By this time social media was teeming with pictures. Phil received one from a friend that was so clear I was sure I could see a 3D image of the sphere shape of the moon in front of the sun.
As afternoon waned and evening came on it was time to think about dinner. Piling in the car we drove around town looking for the perfect spot to celebrate. Later our host went off looking for a couple of bottles of wine to cap a perfect day. At midnight we were still sitting around reflecting on our shared experience.
Wednesday morning passed slowly as we once again sat around the kitchen centre island. Phil and Henrietta would be heading off at 1pm to pick up their horse before the long trip back to Davis. When they were on their way Neil, Lisa and I drove into Corvallis for lunch and I ate light for a change. Then it was back to the house to clean and pack before heading to the condo for the night. The plan was to arrive in Portland by 7pm giving us ample time for dinner and a stop at Powell’s Books, reputedly the largest second hand bookstore in the country. Before we knew it we were in Portland and parked in a parking lot in the heart of the city. I bought a book on Captain Cook’s voyages.
Once at the condo we unloaded our stuff and set out for a drink at a nearby place with a patio overlooking the mighty Columbia. We couldn’t help but notice four boats which at first glance appeared to be net fishing. Initially outraged we quickly decided that couldn’t be right and as we continued to watch we realized they were police boats systematically coordinating the letting out and drawing in of nets. They were looking for a body.
Finding that too sobering we drank up and moved on to the condo where we chatted the night away. With the condo’s windows open we could here planes landing constantly across the river at Portland International and numerous freight trains rolling on the raised rail bed across the road.
At 1:30pm Wednesday afternoon I was in the airport departure lounge for my 3:10 flight to Vancouver, BC. I’m not sure how or why but Security deemed I was only a slight risk so I was sent through the TSA PreChek line. There was none of the usual aggravation around belt and shoes. I of coursed asked “why me” and heard it was because “I was so nice.” It was the second time I’d received preferential treatment at security this trip.
I was sitting waiting with plenty of time but it was all for naught as my plane was late and I was suddenly very tired. Later in the air I relaxed and as the sun was out enjoyed the scenery through my window. The flight path was the along the coast and I saw dozens of islands, numerous boats and larger vessels going hither and yon and a number of salmon farming pens. There were also brown and green clear cut logging scars on many mountains that were particularly ugly viewed from the air.
As I find usual my flight from Vancouver was also late so I had plenty of time to have a ghastly meal in the food court. Happily the flight to Winnipeg was easy and I finished a book on the way home but one of my seat mates was not so happily inclined. She was outraged that the seat back video screens were not working and twice demanded she be provided with a tablet. The first time she asked she was told they didn’t have any so I wondered why she asked a second time.
I was home in my own bed by 2am exhausted but exhilarated.