by Marek Cichanski
Just came in from a killer 4-hour session of observing. I'm so psyched right now I can't stand myself. What high drama today has been - leaden sky, wind-driven rain, doom and gloom, and then...this! Clear sky! And some awesome, so-good-it-hurts seeing!
I figured that I'd just putter around, continuing to fix up my old ETX, getting it ready to sell, so as to finance another Nagler. (It is the fate of all things to eventually be converted into Naglers...we should be so lucky when it is our time...) So, another trip to OSH, buying nylon spacers and knurled knobs. But in the back of my mind, I couldn't help feeling lucky. The big, warm, semi-pineapple-express rains had hammered us yesterday, and now the cold front was upon us, with unstable convective precipitation. I couldn't shake the feeling that when the sun went down and the atmosphere, cooled off, it would get clear. I assumed, however, that the unstable airmass would mean horrible, wonky seeing.
I set up the ETX, mostly with a mind to just testing the drive. Went through some endless fiddling with the hand controller, and was all ready to align, when...raindrops? Argh! It's raining on my scope! ... Picked the whole kit and caboodle up and put it back in the garage. Half hour later another try. This time, magic happens. The sky goes clear, the stars come out, and It's Showtime!
Had to start with the moon. Couldn't believe the seeing was as good as it was. On my scale of 1-5, it was a consistent 3.5 to 4, with lots of 4. At times, maybe even a smidge of 4.5. As usual in these sorts of circumstances, I just gaped at the moon without making any notes, taking the occasional look at Rukl. Lessee, what was good on the moon tonight? Starting at the north pole, there was the crater Philolaus. The rims were brilliantly lit while the floor and inner walls were in shadow. Gotta love that. The same thing was true of Gassendi, its rille-riven interior still cloaked in darkness as the microscopic-seeming tip of its central peak lit up. A high point on the far rim lit up, too. As the evening wore on, the whole rim eventually caught the light. I searched Plato for craterlets, but the light wasn't quite right and I probably didn't quite have the aperture. Copernicus was beautiful, as always. The little "diving board" promontory on the east rim stood out, as usual, giving its usual impression of overhaning the void. The Sinus Iridum was fully lit, and was showing one of my favorite features - the exquisite, infinite shades of grey across its surface from east to west. Sometimes, the western part of the floor is full black, while the eastern part of the floor is light gray, like something out of an Ansel Adams textbook on the Zone System. Didn't quite have that tonight, but it was pretty close. The Appenines still had some shadow at their western base, but I couldn't make out Rima Hadley. Always have to check, though. Montes Teneriffe and Montes Recti were really puttin' on a show, standing out in bold relief above the oh-so-flat mare plains around them. There's something about the sight of those anorthosite islands, with their lava-lapped bases washed by that ancient basaltic sea, that gets me every time. Clavius was looking great; always a crowd-pleaser. Could have spent half the night counting craterlets, but didn't quite have the gumption.
Then it was on to Bright Stuff that Shows Up From My Garage... I swear, the designers of my otherwise hip, groovy, modern apartment complex must have taken this job right after designing a prison yard. How else to explain the retina-searing wattage that illuminates every nook and cranny of the grounds? Nothing that a little gaff tape on that light fixture won't fix, though, thank you very much...hee hee...
M42, natch. Tried like the dickens to see the E and F stars in the Trapezium, even going so far as to reach for the 5mm and try it at 380x, but no joy in Mudville. I think it was a lack of aperture, though, because the seeing was faultless. Enormous amounts of black real estate between the four main stars, regardless of the magnification. If I'd had my XT10 out, E and F would have been a lead-pipe cinch.
Some other stuff... M38, M35, the Pleiades, a really nice split of Castor, a look at 145 Canis Majoris (The Winter Albireo), and at attempt to spot M1 through all the high-pressure sodium. (Denied.)
Then it was time for some serious Saturn. Oh yeah...nothin' but net! Although the seeing didn't stay top-drawer at all times, it had some amazing moments. There were a good number of I Can't Believe Saturn Could Look This Good Through A 5" Scope moments. Titan was rivaling Mars in its bright reddish-brown-ness. Could also see Dione, Rhea, Hyperion, and maybe a hint of Tethys. And the planet itself...well, what do you really need to say about Saturn? The equatorial zone and south polar zone were distinctly dark. The Cassini Division was so sharp at times I almost cut myself. After a while, I was finally able to see the "ears" illusion that folks were talking about over the last few days. Another thing I noticed was how much of a color contrast there was between the rings and the planet. It seemed to me that compared to other occasions, the rings were much whiter, and the planet much browner, than I have seen before. An opposition effect? Purely someting perceptual? Who knows... I was amazed at how much I saw through a 5" Mak. I hope that some of our apo-equipped brethren were out there, opening up an industrial-sized can of whup-a@#.
Wow, what luck. To go from the depths of weather despair to the heights of Gettin' Away With It fun. I sometimes wonder what's better... a well-planned, well-executed night under impeccable skies far from home, or a night like this? The weather gods smile on us, we throw our quick look scopes out on the back deck or out in the driveway, and Get Away With It. Life is good...
As I was packing up, an even crazier thought entered my head. The only thing better than a night like this would be to play a hunch and go to an actual observing site. I suspect the ridgelines didn't quite clear tonight, but wouldn't it be hilarious if they did? I found myself giggling uncontrollably and saying "I s#$% you not, next time we get a weather pattern like this, I'm gonna post an OI for Montebello! Everyone's going to look at it like I've got three heads and the middle one's speakin' Swahili, but I just might have the last laugh." I had visions of sitting in my car in the rain at sunset in the MB lot, then galumphing around the mud in wellington boots while setting up, and then laughing hysterically when the skies clear. Wearing every stitch of clothing in the marrow-hardening cold, but loving every minute of it. Locking up the gate with frozen fingers and chattering teeth at 2 am, and driving down Page Mill with my arm out the window, fist pumping in victory. Next time, baby, next time...
Hope that y'all had a great night, too!