Trip Report from the Mojave, 3/24/2011

Well, those of you who were thinking of bringing your big telescopes to the Mojave last Saturday but were scared off by the weather forecast probably made the right call.

The wind blew hard on Saturday night. My dobbie friends elected not to set up, as their scopes took a beating the previous night at the same location.

However, my C11 set up is so heavy (40 pounds of counterweights!) that I figured it would at least be safe from tipping over. I left off the dew shield because dew is not an issue out here, and it would probably have blown off in about twelve seconds, anyway.

Still, we got Saturn in the lens as soon as it was dark enough, and, let's face it, for most non-astronomers, that makes the whole thing worthwhile, never mind that you didn't need to drive all the way out here to see it!

After that, there were some astronomy students who wanted to see the Orion Nebula, and I was happy to oblige.

Next, someone asked about the Pleiades. Pointed at them, too, although the finder scope actually provides a better context for the cluster than the main scope.

Next, I saw a fuzz ball way high up and decided to show the Beehive Cluster (again, showing better in the finder than the main scope, but providing another chance to compare naked eye to "binocular"-like views to big, massive telescope views).

After a fair amount of effort, I got M51 in view. Normally, you'd think this would be a piece of cake, but I had a surprisingly tough time finding it. The reason? Didn't realize until I packed up, but I had the "wrong" Telrad on my scope. I have two, one tuned for each of my SCT. This one was must be a degree or two off from the proper one--close enough not to be immediately noticed, but far enough to keep the desired target out of the field of view, even when you were SURE you had the telescope pointed at the correct spot!

Problem here was that the wind was blowing hard enough that it gave the term, "Dancing with the Stars," a whole new meaning. The stars themselves looked like faint fuzzies as they swirled withing my telescope. Brought the wind chill down a bit, too, and that encouraged many to seek refuge around the campfire (well-shielded from the observing pad).

So now, it was pretty much just me and "the last man standing," someone who once had a telescope and wanted to see what things would look like through a BIGGER telescope. He asked for a globular cluster. So we pulled out a the Telrad chart for M5 and tried to match the view with the sky.

Took a while, but it was fun. And we finally did track down M5 (which, I know, shouldn't be hard, but it's not an object whose location I have memorized).

Also took in the Leo Trio (easy--this is something I DO have memorized, and it's got those nice bright stars that might as well be landing beacons to guide you in!). M81 and M82, also (I think it wasn't until we got to here that I started thinking, "Huh, that's funny; I always thought they were more that-a-way."

The Sombrero Galaxy fit in here somewhere, too. I also tried but failed to find a globular out around Corvus.

Satisfied with his quick tour of the sky, my lone observer went to bed, and I fiddled around for about half-an-hour on my own, just enjoying the sky.

A little while later, I had an amusing visit from a young woman who had been with the group around the bonfire. She said she was actually here to "get away from that creapy guy near the fire. person wandered over, and I redid my quick tour of what I had seen earlier that evening. After she decided to call it a night, I also decided to take a short break. I ate half of a Subway sandwich, rehydrated, splashed some water on my eyes to wash out the dust and dryness, then headed back to the telescope for some alone time. "Hey," I said to myself, "I drove four hours for these skies, and a little wind isn't going to stop me from seeing what's up there." Besides, a series of weather and personal timing issues had kept me from dark skies for an unusually long period of time. It's actually possible that the last time I was under dark skies was at this same place, at their last "star party," six months previous.

Finally, as I was getting tired, I looked up at the sky, glanced at my star charts, and suddenly realized that Corvus was a lot further to the west than it was earlier. And, hey, what's that well to the east of Corvus? I think that's Centaurus. And what does THAT mean? OMEGA CENTAURI!

There are only three or four months out of the year that Omega Centuari is gettable from my latitude (depends on how late you're willing to stay up, or how early it gets dark). This means it's probably been since last summer that I saw it.

Can never get tired of the view, even though the wind was kicking up again, my eyes were watering from dry wind and dust, and no one was around to share in the view. Oh, well.

I put the telescope and eyepiece back into their cases (I only used my lowest power eyepiece, because the wind made even that view a tough one), brushed my teeth, and went to bed in the car. Out the back window, I saw Hercules. Further below, I saw Lyra, and thought of the meteor shower that was on-going. Nope, too tired for that.

Slept fitfully through the night, as the sound of whipping winds powerful enough to rock the car continued into the early morning hours.

Despite the poor observing conditions I had a grand time. It had been so long since I enjoyed dark skies that I had an unusually hard time getting myself oriented. Not the most pleasant of weather conditions, either. But the observers were enthusiastic and grateful, and I managed to get several hikes in over the weekend: Amboy Crater on the way in, and Table Top Mountain the next day. I've posted on Amboy on my hiking blog. I'm still writing up the Table Top Mountain hike. Should get that posted tomorrow.