E-Day 2017

E-Day 2017

August 21, 2017

The night was spent in a “no facility” lot off route 80 west of Cheyenne Wyoming. Black sky was sprinkled generously with winking stars. Rows of trucks lined up, silently sleeping in the coolness of dark. The Trucker parks parallel to the hill for a bit more quiet and privacy. Tonight I can open the vent by my pillow to admit a gentle breeze without also admitting the rumble of nearby units, and look through the upper windows at the star studded sky. A perfect setting. I’d take this over a motel room any night.

Morning was chilly. We lay listening to a train rumble past on the hill above. Then, stealing quietly out of the lot, we enter the highway. Breakfast happens on the “roll” this day. Mile after undulating mile, through what seems a lot of nothing. Arid semi-desert, burned brown by the sun and lack of rainfall. Dead grasses stand stubbornly straight out of the ground. Scrubby green-gray bushes fill the land, almost like a planted crop. Basically flat, this country appears to be lifeless, except for us. Traffic was very light. Occasional road signs with lights have solar panels attached.

Overpasses have electronic signs announcing that nearby parks, historical sites, and viewing areas are full. Alternating those announcements are warnings that stopping along the road is prohibited, as this is wildfire season, and a hot undercarriage could spark a fire.

Exiting Route 80 for Route 30, the Trucker aims for Pocatello, Idaho. He detoured this area two weeks ago because of an out-of-control, 60,000 acre wildfire, four miles from the road. So far no evidence of fire today. The sun is bright, the sky is a clear blue, wispy white clouds hanging intermittently across the horizon. The Trucker comments, “You feel like you are on top of the word” as we begin to descend out of the high desert into somewhat greener land between ridges to the south and flat topped mesas to the north. Now, at 8:30AM, it is 69 degrees.

A trucker friend entering Portland, Oregon sends a photo of bumper-to-bumper traffic leaving the city in search of an eclipse viewing spot. Will they even progress to their destinations in time?

North on Route 30 toward Cokeville. Every few miles a tractor trailer or a camper is pulled to the side of the road, drivers out on their lawn chairs, eclipse glasses on. The sun is bright to our right. Ahead, westward, the hills are covered in wildfire haze. Fields of freshly cut hay perfume the air.

11:10AM The light is beginning to change. Like when the sun first comes back out after a thunderstorm. Brighter, yet different. Ever so gradually. Makes you feel like rubbing your eyes to see better. Dimmer, yet clear. Not like the haze of evening dusk. Light is decreasing, but not throwing shadows as at sunset. Cattle and horses are grazing calmly in their pastures. A sense of stillness in the air. The temperature has dropped six degrees in the past fifteen minutes, to 63. The truckstop in Cokeville is nearly empty. The Trucker decides to push on to Montpelier, further north and one degree closer to totality. Our route will not take us into the total eclipse band, but we will still see 96% totality at Montpelier.

11:30AM The haze deepens over the western hills ahead and to the north, as if rain is falling there but we see no clouds. The Trucker turns on his lights.

11:35AM Change of plans. At the Idaho state line, the Trucker eases onto a wide spot, and we get out.  A few other eclipse watchers are already there.

 Donning eclipse glasses, we see it! A thin yellow-orange crescent nearly covered by a black disc. We are surprised to see how far it has progressed.

 Across the road is a shack, advertising “Black Cat Fireworks – The Best There Is.” An elderly gentleman stands outside the open door, watching the heavenly display through a welder’s helmet. Hopefully he suffers no ill effects.

 Giving our eyes a break, we tune into conversation between two men parked nearby, glasses on, and realize the eclipse is already waning! Oh dear. The light IS getting brighter. Watching again, as the crescent increases, we imagine we can almost see the moon’s black disc sliding away.

11:55AM. On the road again. Very little discernible difference in the light from a normal cloudy day now, although there are no clouds. A stop in Montpelier in ten miles will allow us another look.

We now understand that the light change we were seeing at approximately 11:25AM was totality for this area. Had we pulled over at the Flying J in Cokeville, we would have seen the sun at 96% coverage, with was the most for this area. Sigh.

Last night I had pulled up an extremely detailed, interactive map online, giving all the measurements, percentages, times, and explanations. From that timetable, we understood that the eclipse here would be approximately 1.5 hours in the making, with one minute of near total darkness, then another 1.5 hours of gradually increasing light. Obviously, it happened much more quickly. I am so grateful to the Trucker for pulling off when he did, or we would have missed the entire experience!

12:10PM We are at the Ranch Hand in Montpelier, Idaho, for another look. Daylight is quite normal now. A small curved area of black is all that remains over the sun. Life is going on here as though no one ever heard of an eclipse. Over lunch we discuss it. Most likely when we noticed the light dimming was totality for us. Apparently the time frame we got from the map was for the center of the band of complete totality directly north of our location.

1:00 PM The Trucker works with his maps and logs. The full sun is now visible again. Our thermometer stands at 80 degrees. We see on facebook, photos of the eclipse as visible in Lancaster County, and are glad for the clear view we have had on the Wyoming/Idaho border.

On with the schedule!

Some thoughts:

- Our worries about traffic complications were unfounded. Instead, we enjoyed an empty road. Was it much ado about nothing? For us, the much ado came to nothing. But the sight? Far, far more than nothing!

- If having only 4-5% of the sun’s rays coming through just dims our world slightly, and the creatures were unaffected, how great is the sun, and how awesome the God who created it!

- August 22, we were in an area that would have allowed a view of the complete eclipse. Sigh.

- Our experience was not perfect, not what we hoped. But still awe inspiring and wonderful.

The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament showeth His handiwork!