| Reports | TAC | Join mailing list |
by Jane Houston
In Arizona at the turn of the century,
Astromathematician Percival Lowell
Was searching for what he called "Planet X"
'Cause he knew deep down in his soul
That an unseen gravitational presence
Meant a new planet spinning in the air
Joining the other eight already known
Circling our sun up there.
The first stanza of folk singer Christine Lavin's delightful song about Pluto, "Planet X," was on my mind as my fiance Mojo and I drove through the changing California landscape from the San Francisco Bay Area to Yosemite National Park on a sunny and warm Friday morning, June 18.
This nearly 6 minute long song honors Clyde Tombaugh, and it is my favorite astro-song. Our reasons for visiting Yosemite were many fold. A romantic four day get-away in one of the Ahwahnee Hotel cabins was one reason. The other was a chance to set up my 17.5 inch F4.5 LITEBOX reflector atop one of the most beautiful pieces of granite in the land.
That place was the 7215 foot elevation precipice known as Glacier Point, a summertime mecca for amateur astronomers hereabouts. In front of us to the east was Half Dome and behind us to the west was a half moon, and a line of tall pine trees which would obscure Mercury for us on this night. We have had a good Mercury spotting month, and weren't too discouraged or disappointed. There were plenty of other planets to grab this night, anyway.
The near-first-quarter moon shone bright. Sunset illuminated the steep face of Half Dome, changing its hue from shiny polished pearlescent speckled granite, to metallic sunset shades of gold, to pink, on to deep purple, and finally to deep slate gray. Until midnight moon set, the dome was prominent and regal even in the dark. The ecliptic plane, the path traveled by the wandering planets met the horizon just a little to the right of the dome and directly above the mighty Merced River's tumultuous tumble over the 594 foot Nevada Falls. Parallel to the cliff face of half dome, the river follows a giant stairway of canyon wide steps -- a master fracture pattern which occurs over and over throughout the Sierra Nevada. The roaring of the falls was our music for the night. The moonlit illumination of the falls was our soft glowing night light.
Families, teenagers and lovers alike stopped for a look through the two telescopes. Minutes after arriving, our 6 inch body-shop-cherry red F5 Pierre Schwaar "Super Companion" reflector was set up and a line of new Shallow Sky enthusiasts waited their turn for a 133X view of the moon or Venus. Or an occasional look at a couple of climbers on Half Dome bedding down for the night. Soon the 17.5 incher was set up and pointed at Mars and the moon. A roaring campfire atop north dome was fun to spot through the small scope, too.
I was amazed at the crisp Martian view through my 17.5 incher. Nice images from 100X to 333X were shared with the public. Some dark features and what may have been the polar cap were visible. My favorite guests at the eyepiece were Matt and Marilyn. Married just hours before, right there at Glacier Point, they stayed and took a look at the early planets Mars and Venus, the moon, and some showcase deep sky objects before heading to their honeymoon hideaway spot, their stalled 30 foot long motor home, grounded for the time being in the Glacier Point parking lot. Matt, a meditation instructor, kept saying "thanks for sharing". He really meant it, too!.
We had hours before the moon would set and give us the opportunity to star hop to Clyde Tombaugh's favorite planet, "a tiny barely visible speck -- Cold! minus 440 below", as described in the second stanza of Planet X. I sketched some beautiful features on the lunar terminator at 125X up to 333X through the big scope. Posidonius was complex. The two adjoining craters J and B looked like a peanut shaped figure eight. Rimae Posidonius, a chevron arch of shadow pointed toward these two craters. On the opposite side of Posidonius, the crater Chacornac crumbled into oblivion. The Serpentine Ridge was rounded and curvy and popped into the eyepiece like a bas relief fresco. Rimae Plinius, looked much like some of the Yosemite terraced faults. Its steep appearing shadowed cliff dropped to the lunar surface where it almost intersects with the snaky Serpent. Plinius was brightly lit by the sun on one side of its terraced rim. A half hour later, the central peak was a light spot in a pool of darkness. Small nearby Dawes was also a study in light and dark. Earth and Moon - so much to observe on each! Enough about the moon and Yosemite Plutons, though. It was dark enough to hunt for Pluto!
The RASC's Observer's Handbook 1999 has a Pluto finder chart on page 176. Western Ophiuchus was well placed in the sky. The chart shows stars to magnitude 14.5, and this was essential for our Pluto proof. I had also brought my volumes of Uranometria, but of the many dozens of stars shown in the Observers Guide chart, only 11 showed on chart number 291. Only 3 of the stars show on the Tirion Sky Atlas 2000, so it would have been virtually impossible to hop to Pluto without the RASC Handbook. I also brought the Sky and Telescope Pluto chart, somehow thinking that the vibes from all these star tools would coalesce and make the hunt easier.
We patiently waited for the glow from moon set to end. At around 1:00 a.m. the 40mm Televue Plossl was secured in the F4.5 17.5 incher. Flashlight in mouth, chart in one hand, upper cage guided by the other hand we both began our journey to the far reaches of our celestial neighborhood. Z Ophiuchi is the middle star in the base of the "tall teapot" shaped constellation Ophiuchus; that was our star hop base camp. At magnitude 13.7, 4.04 light hours away, this is as good as Pluto ever gets. Besides, it has regained it's proper position as the most distance planet. Order has resumed in the solar system. And boy were we pumped!
We took our time, gaining familiarity with every star on the chart in the vicinity of Pluto. After what seemed like an hour or so, we felt we had memorized the star field and were certain that there was a wandering speck of stardust where Pluto should be. We gazed in wonder at Pluto, and I sang the second stanza of Planet X, which ends like this: "3.7 billion miles from our sun, a smallish ball of frozen rock, methane and nitrogen." Next we placed the 22 Panoptic eyepiece in for a closer look at 91X. This higher magnification caused us some distress, as more stars appeared in the field of view. Stars dimmer than the 14.5 chart threshold, and dimmer than magnitude 13.7 Pluto appeared! Luckily we both felt sure enough of our memorized star fields to go back to Z Ophiuchi and off we hopped again to Pluto. After this success, we just couldn't move away from Pluto. For another 15 or 20 minutes, we took turns looking at our distant neighbor. It was hard to let go!
About this time, some bright lights were being flashed on the trail. We hollered to the hikers to turn the lights off and bring their eyeballs over and see the universe! Two teenage boys got the thrill of their lives as we took a tour of the majestic deep sky objects well placed at 1:30 AM. Whirlpool, Ring, Saturn Nebula, Swan, Eagle, Lagoon, Wild Duck, clusters and double stars, and finally the nearest neighbor outside our Milky Way, the Andromeda Galaxy were shown and explained to the two awestruck teenagers. One boy muttered to his friend "wait till I tell my parents what I saw". After quite a while they thanked us, wandered off, with their flashlights off in respect for the darkness.
Then it was time for us to find Uranus and Neptune, again using the Observer's Handbook star chart. These were star hop easy, but rewarding nonetheless. It was time for a planet break, and a wait for a bright Jupiter to rise above the horizon. It was truly dark, Half Dome and Nevada Falls were dark, rumbling water the only noise in the stillness. Our only companions were the occasional grazing deer. It was time for some deep sky gazing.
We knocked off all of our favorite objects, tried the O-III filter and the UHC filter on some of them, and spent not a little time enjoying the Veil Nebula's wondrous filaments. Or just sitting in our comfy observing chairs gazing up at the milky way, with the filters in the eyepiece cups of our Celestron 9x63 binoculars.
At about 3:00 a.m. (but who was watching the time!), Jupiter rose, 4 little moons on one side, lined up askance, as if performing a clumsy western line dance. 45 minutes later, Saturn rose, tilted rings first. Before we knew it, it was 4:30 am and the eastern sky heralded the coming of dawn. It was time to pack up, and drive back to the Yosemite Valley, humming the last stanza of Planet X.
Yes, at the turn of the 20th century
Astromathematician Percival Lowell
In his quest for "Planet X"
Started this ball to roll,
But at the end of the 20th Century
We think he may have been a little off base
So we look at the sky
And wonder what new surprises
Await us in outer space.
We look at the sky and we wonder ....