When I was first learning astrophotography, I had the bad luck of beginner’s luck. I got an early good result, a picture of the Andromeda Galaxy, and then spent years discovering all the things that can go wrong with this technical hobby.
The equipment has improved immensely since those days of making long duration, manually guided exposures onto film, but the opportunities for fatal mistakes has not seemed to diminish, and the challenges of solar imaging are no less demanding than those of deep sky imaging– just different.
So I knew that I needed to practice my plan to photograph the solar eclipse. There were too many things that all needed to go right, and too many opportunities to make a mistake.
Our group consumes coffee! Five French presses were hard pressed to keep up.
Eclipse Monday arrived and we proceeded as planned. Delicious French-pressed coffee and cinnamon rolls greeted our eclipse party guests, but the sky was covered in intermittent clouds, a mix of high and low layers, only occasionally offering a clear sunny view.
This did not seem to affect the group. They proceeded to continue their exploration of the campground and vicinity, logging birdcalls and trekking new hiking trails.
By the time the eclipse started, a little past noon, we all convened at our observing site. Cabin H, it turns out, is the only cabin at Zuber’s that had a full view of Old Baldy, and it provided us with a perfect open area in front to view the eclipsed sun!
I had completed the setup of my cameras (more on this later). In principle, they were automated enough that I could relax and enjoy the show with my friends. I looked around and saw that our full group of black t-shirted eclipse observers had positioned their camp chairs to claim their personal view of the sky, making guesses about the sun’s location as it occasionally peeked through the clouds. Some had binoculars, properly filtered of course, and their punched name cards were near at hand.
Over on top of Old Baldy we could see the silhouettes of many people who had climbed it– to get a closer look, I guess. When they started striking odd poses and making wild gestures, I realized this was the gathering spot for the Wiccans and Druids. And sure enough, whenever the clouds presented an opening that showed a partially eclipsed sun, they could be heard whooping and hollering at it!
Eclipse photography dress rehearsal in my back yard.
While Poldi was preparing food-for-the-masses, I was preparing other things. The big attraction the eclipse held for me was its rare opportunity to capture unique photos of the sun.
In 2017 I had participated in “The Modern Eddington Experiment“, trying to photograph the nearby stars to see if they were deflected by the sun’s gravity as Einstein predicted. My results were inconclusive, but I really enjoyed the challenge of getting the pictures and analyzing the results afterward.
This year I registered to contribute to the Eclipse Mega Movie, a less complex project but one that matched my desire to capture the corona, which as we near the peak of the solar cycle should be even larger than it was in 2017.
To do this, I needed to precisely control the camera during totality. As often occurs with our rapidly evolving technology, much has changed in the seven years since 2017. I had a new camera and a new computer, several hardware and software versions later than my previous eclipse session. The software application I had used before had become obsolete, no longer able to run on the new laptop and operating system. The author had not migrated it to the latest platform.
Fortunately, a new program had been created that could fill its role– it had fewer features but was entirely adequate for what I wanted to do. I was pleased to discover it.
As co-host of Thor and Poldi’s Excellent Eclipse Party, I wanted to provide something that might augment Poldi’s gourmet camping meals. I was inspired by a YouTube presentation of how to enjoy the eclipse, including during the partial phases leading up to totality, and how to safely view the sun during this time (over an hour). One of the techniques was the use of “pinhole projection” where a small hole in an opaque panel projects an image of the sun onto a flat surface. It is an embodiment of a pinhole camera, but aimed at the sun.
In 1963 a solar eclipse crossed North America. I was living where the eclipse would be 80% full and I recall my dad setting up a pinhole projector so we could watch the progress of the eclipse. The image showed a small crescent, like the moon. This left an indelible memory on an impressionable 10-year old, but even more so, was seeing the multitude of crescents projected along the street in front of our house. The cathedral ceiling of elm trees along the avenue had holes in it, formed by the gaps between the leaves. Each was its own pinhole and cast a crescent image on the pavement. This is what left the strongest impression on me that day.
Today I understand the physics and optics of what made those images, but it does not diminish the awe and wonder I have for the effect. I wanted to see it again at this eclipse, and to that end I designed cardstock pages with holes punched in them for our eclipse partiers to project. The holes spelled out the name of each guest in a dot-matrix font.
I considered how to punch all these holes and soon realized that doing this by hand would not work. I did not have the tools or patience for such a task. I considered acquiring a laser cutter, but this would be a new technology to me, one that I didn’t have the time to learn. I contacted a local shop, but was not confident in their response to my request (“we’ll have to experiment to see if this will work”), and it would be expensive.
Fortunately, as I described the situation to my talented and well-equipped friend Odd Dave, he offered to make them on his laser cutter (of course he had one, and he wanted to keep it in condition by using it). I sent him a test file, he “printed” it with seemingly little effort, and then proceeded to punch the rest of them. He mailed them to me with plenty of time to pack them with the other eclipse equipment.
The eclipse partiers were thrilled to receive these custom-punched cards and looked forward to making projections of their names during the partial phases of the eclipse. Sadly, nearly all of that time was overcast. One needs a full view of the sun for the projection to be effective. There were a few openings early in the eclipse, and one might be able to make out the solar disk images with a small “bite” taken out, but the more dramatic projections of thin crescents were clouded out.
I hope they save the “name hole projection” cards for their next eclipse.
Pinhole projections of dot-matrix punched names during the brief periods of clear sun.Name projections during the sunny moments.
The Rio Frio, beneath Old Baldy, a beautiful spot to await an eclipse.
Two years ago, in anticipation of the 2024 eclipse, I made a reconnaissance trip to Texas, where the historical odds of clear skies were the highest in the US. I located a similar campground to the one we had enjoyed in Idaho, this time along the Frio River in the “Hill Country” of Texas. Zuber’s River Camp was a few hundred meters from the centerline of the eclipse and would yield over four minutes of that bizarre condition we wanted to experience again. I didn’t know two years ago who might want to join us, but I made a guess and put my name on a waiting list for campground shelters.
I sent out an invitation and attracted the attention of several of those who had joined us in 2017. Word spread to relatives, friends, friends of friends, and friends of relatives, and soon we had a full roster. Many in the group had not seen the total eclipse in 2017, or ever.
We secured the campground reservations and plans came together. Poldi, who seems to have a natural desire to feed groups of people, became the camp quartermaster and took on the challenge of planning a menu, pre-cooking and preserving, and the logistics of acquiring fresh provisions on our route to the Texas site. She did reconnaissance and training runs at the local Costco store. She estimated the capacity of coolers and containers and stockpiled all the necessary cooking supplies and staples.
While Poldi was creating and refining her plans for food, I was making other plans. Despite the widespread advice to not spend the precious few minutes of totality fussing with camera settings, I wanted to take pictures. Pictures of the sun’s prominences and corona and maybe even a timelapse of the eclipse. Expert advice or not, it is what I do.
In addition to planning for my photographic goals, I wanted to do something to help bind this group of people, none of whom knew everyone– even the hosts had not met them all! This inspired two more preparation projects: “name card projections” and the creation of a t-shirt design, to be described next.
In 2017 we hosted “Thor & Poldi’s Excellent Eclipse Party” for about a dozen friends and relatives. They recall fondly the time we spent on the banks of the Snake River at Heise Hot Springs campground, and the beautiful clear day at “Stinking Springs”, where we witnessed the sun turn into a hole in the sky. It was three minutes of an otherworldly sensation.
We decided to do it again for the 2024 eclipse. This begins a series of blog posts that describe that experience– the planning, the traveling, and the day of the eclipse. It is not a spoiler to let you know that clouds interfered with our plans, this is now meteorological history. But we were rewarded with all the pleasures and adventures of the journey, and the sharing of it with friends, old and new.
I will be adding bits to the story over the next few days and weeks. If you wish to subscribe and get the posts in your email, there is a signup link somewhere nearby.
Thor and Poldi’s Eclipse Party 2024 previous | beginning | next
After the eclipse ended, I packed up my equipment again; this time I collapsed the tripod legs—I would need the space to pack up my campsite, which I did the next morning. I heated the dregs of leftover coffee thinking I would be stopping soon for breakfast on the road, including fresh brewed coffee.
I made the mistake of not stopping in Fort Davis for that breakfast. I thought it was too soon, it was only ten miles from the campground. But I should have stopped there anyway, because the next towns were too small, or too run down to support a café. I went all the way to Del Rio, which was too large to have the local flavor of a small down diner.
I did find one however—a Mexican restaurant operating out of a Victorian style hotel. The staff spoke Spanish, as did the other guests. It was now lunchtime and I ordered the Monday special: chili relleno (stuffed chilis?) which were delicious, and with rice and beans, too much.
I continued on toward Eagle Pass, the next large city, but in between was “Radar Base”, which is an intersection of roads where the 2024 solar eclipse is said to be at or near maximum—4 minutes, 30 seconds. It is a miserable spot however—hot, dusty, windy, with heavy highway traffic and not much shade. I’m not sure why it has a town designation—a local airstrip and a radio/cell phone/radar tower?
Radar Base. I’m not sure where the radar is. Click to enlarge.
I had intended to stay in Eagle Pass, but on learning that the room rates were $250+, I continued on to Uvalde, a town larger than I expected, and whose notoriety to the world would be established a week later. There was some conference/convention going on, so the rates were still high, but I had reached the end of my range and desperately needed a shower, so I sprang for the room.
The shower was great.
More Options I wasn’t expecting to find an eclipse viewing site as I originally hoped—I was too late, all the prime locations had already been booked—or couldn’t be booked (the State Park reservation system only goes 5 months out).
But I felt obligated to document the candidates that I had looked up, as this was the purpose for traveling here. I could at least take photos and maybe get contact info in case of cancellations.
I located a few more places along the Rio Frio, and the Lost Maples areas along the eclipse path. There were various resorts and RV parks along a road east of the river, and I stopped at some and inquired. Locals would stop and talk with me, just being friendly, and I learned a lot about the area. Here are my notes.
I started to set up for the lunar eclipse; it would occur tonight (this was not a drill)! But by the time I had the tripods and mount in place, I realized that I had left a critical piece of equipment behind—my camp chair. I left the stuff for a 10-minute trip back to the campsite to retrieve it.
On return, I found the other guy who had obtained a pass for the overlook (required if we wanted to stay past 10:00 pm). He was an interesting person who was ok with my being focused on setting up rather than chatting.
A few other visitors dropped by, including one who was on foot with some portable camera gear. After a while he decided he wanted a different viewpoint and so he hiked away, disappearing below the crest.
I was ready at moonrise. This time I could see the moon as it appeared on the horizon. I centered it in the cameras, started the tracking and started taking pictures. The moon rose in a light orange color, brightening to white and then about one-half hour later, the eclipse began.
Prada Marfa, one of several roadside art installations outside Marfa TX
Fort Davis is the name of the town, “Historic Fort Davis” is the reconstructed early fort, established here in the 1850’s to protect the growing number of emigrants, and the mail and freight traffic to support and supply them in the westward expansion. My national parks pass gave me entry and access to a walking tour of the fort grounds to see the buildings that have been restored, and exhibits in some of them depicting the conditions and resources of a military outpost. It was very interesting to learn of the difficult conditions on the frontier, and the life of enlisted men stationed at the fort. It is probably not so interesting to small children; a rudimentary awareness of US history is helpful. I recommend visiting in the morning, before the temperatures become excessive.
A peek through a guest observing port at the HET. The mirror is held by the blue-green frame; a curved reflection of struts can be seen on its surface.
This is a very dark sky part of Texas, and so it makes sense to locate an observatory here. It is semi-open to the public for self-guided tours at the visitor center, and the grounds hosting three major observatory domes and many smaller ones. One of them allowed a peek at the 10-meter Hobby Eberly Telescope, a multifaceted composite mirror on a huge mount structure. I saw it in its resting position, perhaps for maintenance, or an instrument changeover. As I tried to identify the mirror segments, I realized that what appeared to be the interior of the dome building, was actually its reflection on the mirrors, their reflectivity so high as to make them seem invisible!
Thor's Life-Notes 