Total Eclipse of the Middle Son

 Or of the sun, I should say...

The sun shows up the morning of April 8

This morning, casting about for a topic to wax upon, I recall the amazing camping trip I took up to my best buddy Rocky's childhood stomping grounds to view the Monday, April 8th total eclipse in totality. Nashville looked to be cloudy and was not in the predicted path, so up I went. Rocky had arranged for the younger brother of his best high school friend to allow me to camp on his substantial property just outside of Harrisburg, Illinois, itself the home of the very fine Thrive Dispensary and the closest city to the huge farm his people owned and operated in his youth. 

I left on Saturday around lunchtime, Casper the Friendly (Kia) Soul loaded with my camping gear, a cooler of beer and food, and my mandolin. It was smooth sailing up I-24 to Paducah, KY, where I stopped to explore a bit and discovered the extraordinary Paducah Antique Mall, where I spent some time digging through a vast record collection and finally asked Randy, who I believe is the owner, if he had any Steve Goodman albums somewhere among the 20,000 or so in the store. It took him a while, but I was tickled to purchase a mint condition double compilation set called "Essential Steve Goodman." That doesn't get me any closer to owning all the 17 studio albums, but it's a good listen, with a couple songs I hadn't heard. 

I crossed that funky blue grated bridge into Illinois cruised on up State 145 to Harrisburg, where I drove around recalling some of the stories Rocky had told me when we spent a weekend up there last February, of course dropping in on Thrive just to look, heh heh. I also pulled off 145 to re-visit Shotgun Eddy's roadhouse, where I chatted with a lovely bartender human I'd met our last visit and had a whiskey and a beer and a rockin' Reuben Cheeseburger with a side of fried okra. Pic:

Reuben Cheeseburger with fried okra at Eddy's

And one with my pal Sasquatch outside the bar:

Me and Sasquatch

I had never met Jim, Rocky's friend, but he had previously texted me to come on out and he would direct me to the campsite he'd prepped for me. My GPS took me to his address but I was following it and drove right past his clearly marked home driveway entrance to a gated gravel road, which took me back to his barn. Through the woods I saw the house, at the end of a 150 foot or so trail. I steered Casper down into the woods and onto that trail and muscled him through a little creek and back up onto the trail and up to the house. It was huge, with a broad manicured front yard, past which I saw an aggregate driveway and realized my mistake. I parked at the back yard lawn's edge, beside a cute little gardening shed, and walked up to the house, ringing the back doorbell. No answer, so I repeated the ring around at the front of the house. 

Retracing our path to the road, I found the driveway and pulled up to the house, thinking I might just nap in the car, but I got a text that he was not at home, but he asked me to call him for directions to the campsite. I did, and he gave me those, but what I didn't realize was that he assumed I would park there and carry my gear down to the site, while all the time I was assuming he understood I was car camping. I don't do the pack-it-in thing. Retiree's rights. 

I drove out the drive and returned to the barn, the trail, over the creek, and back up to the lawn's edge, continuing into the woods surrounding the house and maybe 200-300 yards down a woods trail to the campsite he cleared for me. It was at the edge of a clearing with a nice mostly flat spot for my tent, a beautiful steel fire pit, and handy strong oaks for my hammock. Through the woods below I could see a pond, surrounded with 8 foot tall grasses and covered by lily pods, water rippling in the afternoon breeze. I pitched my tent, hung my hammock, started a little cooking fire, and also set up my back hatch shelter extension tent and the little window screen for ventilation in case I decided at any time to move from tent to car for sleeping. I also expected some rain in the next couple days, which did appear briefly. I'm glad I supplemented the tent fly with a tarp over all. Here's a video:

By the time I had all that set up, the sun had set back past the woods trail and the other slurry pond and I had a little fire going. I played mandolin, sat by the fire, and leaned my camp chair back to watch the sparkling stars in the heavens through the thin treetop border. It was probably 10 or so by the time I retired to the sleeping bag supported by my air mattress, and snuggled up in the dark tent for sleep. I awoke several times in the cold, but slept well overall.

Sunday morning dawned. Chilly and foggy, with the (literally) star of the day just rising and making itself known through clouds. As the morning wore on I cooked some eggs, sipped a beer, and enjoyed the rest of the early afternoon, playing mandolin with my Spotify and Van Morrison's "Back to Skiffle" album, one of my faves. I napped a bit in the hammock, mostly just enjoying the sunny blue sky and the steady breeze. I had no T-Mobile cell there in scenic rural Illinois, and that was okay by me.

I had no butter so I scrambled my eggs in Jack Daniels. It all seemed just right...

 

I heard some stirrings up at the house but wasn't inclined to head up there, thinking it would be a bit awkward to meet Jim in person without Rocky, and he was on the way. I had received a text from him likely on data, but when I attempted to text back it was only "message did not send" time. He had expressed that Jim had some concern that I had likely driven over his septic system, and I had tried to let him know I did not drive over his lawn to get back there but had taken the barn trail. But no go. We ironed that out later. Jim was amazed I'd gotten down and up that trail with my Kia front-wheel drive but there ya go. Now he knows me better: I'd never dream of driving over someone's lawn without their permission and guidance! Certainly not that one, which was so tended and flawless I was a little hesitant even to walk on it!

Sometime around 11 or so Rocky texted again, saying he was up at the house with his lady, Carol, so I walked up to the house and met the Andersons, Jim and Jennifer/Jen. He was cordial and clearly a smart human and she was pretty and gracious, and we hit it off I spent the afternoon on the porch with new friends, including Greg and Matt, Jeff and Robin, and it was a beautiful day, even with a little rain. Keith showed up from Nashville, and Nathan and Jerusha and Robin and Jim's mom, visiting from her assisted living residence. Jim fried up a mess of fish filets and we gobbled them down. I retired to the campsite early and spent the night much as I had the previous one. In the morning came the dawn again. The sun came up amidst fog and clouds but the online apps predicted clearing and so it did. Early a.m. I hiked through the woods to the other pond, making it to its edge, and took some pictures because it was so stunningly picturesque. 

Coal slurry pond at the Anderson's

Back at the site, I unhooked the tent extension from the wheels of the car (that could have been nasty, right?), tucked it into the open hatch, and picked my way up to the house. Rocky had walked down earlier and said there was a taco bar going, but I'd already had some eggs and Tinwings  curry chicken salad. 

The party was starting. Totality was scheduled to begin a little after noon and first contact was like 10:08 a.m. I sat on the porch with everyone, two professional photographers setting up high end camera gear and Rocky situating his telescope with filter and ready to go. I set out sheets of drawing paper in case the "snakes" made their appearance (they did not, but they proved useful anyway. Colanders were set out. Nathan was playing his amplified electric guitar, beautifully, and I pulled out my mandolin and attempted rather lamely to pick along from the other side of the big porch. Toward eclipse time Jim fired up his green egg and started putting out hotdogs and then plump hamburgers and cheeseburgers for everyone. Jeanette was holding forth and a pleasure to chat with. Matt and Greg, who drove 19 hours from South Dakota, were in deep conversations with her. Molly and Maya (Rocky's two charming and endearingly precocious grandchildren) were talking with all the adults. 

I had popped a little THC drop about an hour before the first contact and shared one with a new friend, and the effects added additional nuance to the way the light changed. It was like a stage set, with a technician in the wings making controlled tweaks to the lights, as things became preternaturally vivid, leading up to totality. A jet plane left a contrail that did not distract, but enhanced, like additional perspective. When totality hit, we all took off our eclipse glasses.

Some fun was had with the colanders after the totality had yielded to the point of last contact. I got this fun little video of that:

Pano in the Anderson's beautiful backyard

the long shot

the moneyshot pano after first contact

I loved that Jeff Frazier and Robin Conover were there because that let me abandon my amateur iphotography and just relax into the enjoyment of the last total eclipse visible in the continental US for 20 years. I can't wait to see what they took during those spectacular moments. 

Here's one I did take:

Whoopee.

Several folks hit the road just as soon as  the sky was a normal sky again, particularly Matt and Greg, who had yet another 19 hour drive ahead of them. 

I stayed the evening, sharing a pizza with the remaining partygoers, and having the unique and amazingly fun experience of playing mandolin with Nathan Griffin's acoustic guitar and singing with him for probably an hour and a half at the kitchen table. That, my friends, challenged the eclipse for memorability, in my book. 

I had chosen to break camp and move my car around to the driveway, planning to sleep in my car and leave as soon as I arose, because rain was predicted. I did not want to be packing up tent and all wet for the drive home. That was to prove a good decision, since I got to have a delightful walk to the road with Jeff Frazier to look at the stunning night sky. As we were returning to our cars, the clouds rolled in. I was awakened by raindrops on the tailgate tent extension around 6 a.m. and skedaddled (Jeff had already pulled out), driving across the state line into Kentucky and well into the morning. I made three stops. One for gas at Casey's in Harrisburg, where I pulled a dozen or more little seed ticks off my body in the bathroom, another a little side jag into Metropolis, where I got Hardee's drive through breakfast tacos and a snap of Superman in his eclipse glasses :)

I made another detour to the Casey Jones Distillery near Hopkinsville to pick up a couple of bottles, one for Rocky, and was home by noon. 

A good time. Was had. By all. Thanks to Jim and Jen Alexander for their hospitality and the memorable weekend in sunny southern Illinois! Thanks to everyone I met, all new friends, and to Rockyespecially,  for including me in the little "Festival of the Sun".