When Phil Kuebler suggested a trip to the Texas Star Party at the Columbus Astronomical Society's Christmas Party, the wheels began to turn.  Phil, a CAS member and TSP regular attendee for the past dozen years or so, raved about the dark west Texas skies, the stringent rules that fostered great observing and astrophotography, and the camaraderie.  I had attended CAS star parties and enjoyed myself immensely, but these were short affairs lasting only one night.  The lure of a week's worth of observing and imaging planets, nebulae, clusters and galaxies under dark, west Texas skies with hundreds of amateur and professional astronomers from around the world was too powerful to resist.  Since I couldn't convince my wife that an eclipse chase to southern Africa in June was a happening thing, she awarded me the TSP as a consolation prize.  I wouldn't compare the TSP with Zambia or Zimbabwe.  I think that the TSP was a much better trip than Africa.  The total solar eclipse in Africa should last about 3 1/2 minutes.  The TSP was seven nights of observing and imaging.  It also became a hunt for certain southern objects not easily visible in central Ohio; particularly, the great globular cluster Omega Centauri.  The TSP turned out to be the real prize.

TSP 2001 JOURNAL

Sunday May 13:  The Arrival
Monday May 14:  Settling In, Setting Up
Tuesday May 15:  Observer's Badge
Wednesday May 16:  Imager's Blues
Thursday May 17:  Guiding Blues or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Let Phil & Larry Clear the Skies
Friday May 18:  Clouded Out
Saturday May 19:  All Cleared Out With Nothing to Do
 

    Sunday began auspiciously with blue skies and sunshine in Columbus.  I started my day with final frenzied preparations for leaving.  Kevin Walsh, a fellow CAS member, and I had already carted a lot of our equipment to Phil Kuebler's house Thursday night.  He was driving while we were flying.  The last items on my list included a trip to the office to retrieve some documents I wanted my wife to have in my absence.  In my own particular idiom, I left poor Kevin and his wife Kathy waiting a half hour for me.   When I finally showed up and packed my gear, they politely suffered through three aborted departures before I ran out of things I had to run back to the house for.  Surprisingly, we got to the airport in plenty of time.

    American Airlines was on time to Dallas, where we ate a small lunch while waiting for our connection to El Paso.  On the flight to El P, Kevin and I began calculating the route and drive time to Ft. Davis.  Before leaving the plane once we landed, I asked a flight attendant if she knew where central time changed to mountain time.  She replied that she did not know.  An accented voice behind me asked whether I was going to the Texas Star Party.  I answered affirmatively.  The gentleman introduced himself as Keith Venables, a citizen of the UK.

    Keith accompanied Kevin and me to the car rental counter.  He offered to share a car with us,  Unfortunately, as a result of the sheer sizes of Kevin's equipment cases we brought with us, it was not practical to share a car.  We told Keith he was welcome to drive along with us since he expressed a lack of confidence with his directions.

    Kevin left me at baggage claim while he went to get the car.   An older skycap offered to assist.  After Kevin arrived, the skycap began loading his handcart.  Two large pelican cases, two suitcases, my computer case and Kevin's camera bag went onto the cart.  I felt his pain when he rocked the loaded handcart back on its wheels.  After a couple of attempts, the skycap succeeded in starting the load toward the rental car pickup zone.  Luckily for him, the pickup zone was nearby.   We had reserved the largest car Avis had in its El Paso fleet:  a 2001 Cadillac DeVille.  Keith obtained a mid-sized Olds.  Kevin observed an argument between several persons of Dutch origin and the Avis people at the counter in the terminal.  We both agreed that the TSP must be a heck of a draw if it could bring people to west Texas from way across the pond.  With our equipment loaded, Keith, Kevin and I set out, confident we would arrive at the Prude Ranch before dark-out.  Kevin was behind the wheel.

    Phil warned us about dark-out regulations at the TSP.  When the sky is greater than ten percent clear, no white light is permitted.  Cars outside the front gate must remain there until dawn or the relaxation of dark-out (except for medical emergency).  In short, the regulations permitted an observers' paradise.

    I was struck by the incredible differences in the landscape.  Where Ohio and northeast Texas were trees and grass, El Paso was cactus and sand.  We weren't in Kansas anymore.  Far off in the distance, close against a ridge, a storm cloud was busy dumping rain and shooting bolts of lightning.  It was not a very promising sign.

    Not too long after leaving El Paso, a sign directed all traffic to leave the freeway and stop under a large steel pole building open on all sides.  An agent of the U.S. Border Patrol asked Kevin and me whether we are U.S. citizens.  We answered, "Yes", and were allowed to proceed immediately.  Keith was directly behind us.  Kevin wondered what would happen to Keith since he would have to answer "no" to the agent's question.  Kevin accelerated slowly along the entrance ramp while both of us watched Keith's car.  We were mildly surprised when after the same momentary delay we experienced, Keith left the Border Patrol station and headed up the ramp toward the open road.

    People say that west Texas is miles and miles of miles and miles.  It seemed as if the landscape was barren of inhabitants, unlike the farms visible from Ohio highways.  Those farms are evidence that people live on the land.  There was no such indications on I-10.  As we tooled along the freeway, we happened upon a sign that read, "Culberson County-Entering Central Time Zone."  That sign answered  the question of time.  At a stroke, Kevin and I lost one hour. It was apparent that we would never reach the Prude Ranch before dark-out.

    Ten minutes later, Kevin noticed a Texas Highway Patrol car pull out from behind Keith's car.  After running parallel with him for a minute or two, the cruiser settled in behind us.  Uh oh.  The lights came on and Kevin slowed, then stopped at the side of the road.  Donning large cowboy hats, two troopers exited their patrol car.  To our surprise, the trooper that came to Kevin's window was female.  She was very pleasant as she informed Kevin that he had been stopped for speeding.  Her tag gave her name as "Ray." After asking for his license and the rental contract, Trooper Ray asked Kevin to step out of the car.  I looked in the rearview mirror and saw that Keith was also out of his vehicle with her partner.  Several more minutes passed and I saw Trooper Ray writing in a notebook.  I wondered not for the first time just how fast Kevin had been going as I watched him accept the notebook and sign.  Finally, Kevin returned to the Cadillac and Keith entered his Olds as Trooper Ray and her partner sped off into the Texas evening.  As Kevin guided the DeVille back onto the highway, I asked him how much the ticket was going to cost him.  "Nothing," he replied.  "She gave me a warning," said Kevin.  He showed me the form he signed and it was just that, a warning.  I asked him, "Did she say how fast she clocked you?"  "Eighty-six."  "Really?  It didn't seem like eighty-six to me,"  I observed.  Nevertheless, we definitely weren't going to make the Prude Ranch before nine.  Later in the week, Texas natives expressed surprise that a Yankee and a Brit got off with only a warning.

    Not having eaten since Dallas, I was beginning to get hungry.  Kevin had eaten less than I did and I knew that he was worse off.  The triptik he got from Microsoft's Streets & Roads indicated that food service was available at our turn off from I-10--a town called Kent.  At about 8:15, we arrived at Kent.  Much to our surprise, Kent's amenities consisted of one closed gas station/restaurant.  Dust was blowing in the wind as we stared at the barred windows on the building.  So much for dinner, thought I.  We left the comfort of the interstate for the uncertainty of twisting, two lane State Route 118.

    As darkness began to fall, Kevin and I drove deeper into the Davis Mountains.  Mercury and Jupiter shone brightly in the west, brighter and sharper than I'd ever seen.  The colors of the sky ran from deepest blue in the east to a light blue in the west.  As the valley floors plunged into darkness, the road narrowed.  Soon, signs warned of "loose cattle." Sure enough, it seemed as if around every bend and twist in the road I had to call out a bovine alert.   We passed McDonald Observatory's three large domes perched magnificently atop two peaks.  The domes shone wanly in the fading light, an impressive sight.

    We arrived at the gate at 9:30, half an hour after dark-out.  The whole ranch had an otherworldly feel.  It was very dark from an almost complete lack of ambient light.  There were people on the lower field (mainly RVers) who had set up their scopes and began observing.  The red light from their flashlights helped define the edge of the road from the front gate to the office.  Rainfall earlier in the day left puddles in the road that didn't reveal themselves until one was about to step in them.  Kevin and I encountered two men carrying red lights just outside the darkened office.  Amazingly, they happened to be two members of the organizing committee.  They had our room keys and a map of how to get there.  The room was close at hand.  Keith's accommodations were farther towards the north.  We said goodnight to Keith and set ourselves to the task of bringing our bags to the room.

    Dark-out regulations still applied.  Traffic cones barred the entrance road.  The problem was a simple one:  getting the baggage from point A to point B.   The execution, on the other hand, was not as simple.  It wasn't just getting the baggage to the room.  The cases were heavy.  Getting them to the room along a gravel road pitted with puddles, in total darkness, and at an altitude neither of us was used to, proved quite a challenge.  I lost the wheel off of my suitcase.  I recovered it after retracing my steps with a flashlight.  After moving all the bags by hand, the clouds rolled in and dark-out regulations were lifted.  Others who had arrived after nine drove in and easily unloaded their baggage.  All that work for nothing.

    By this time, Kevin and I were hungry enough to attack the horse corral with our bare hands and teeth.  We found the Red Light Cafe open despite the overcast skies.  Kevin went for the hot dogs and I had the brisket burrito sans sauce.  One thing Texans know is what to do with a cow carcass!

    There was no sign of Phil by the time we finished playing with luggage.  I decided to head down to the gate and see if Phil had arrived and parked outside the gate.  Phil told Kevin and me that he would set up at the lower field.  Things being what they were, I decided to have a look around and see if Phil got into the ranch before dark-out.  I took a stroll down the road, past the office, over the bridge and into the RV zone.  I did not see anything that fit the description of Phil's van, so I began making my way back to the road.  The small astro flashlight I carried did not cast its light much beyond a yard.  In the inky blackness, the ground looked all the same.  Pretty soon I stumbled into the observing area of another TSP astronomer named Rodriguez.  Rod thought it was pretty funny that I was lost in "his" field, particularly after the direction I wanted to go was actually the horse corral, well out of bounds.  Rod escorted me back to the road and I found my way back to the room.  About that time, clouds rolled in and management suspended dark-out regs.  All that pushing and pulling of baggage was useless.

    I went to sleep wondering about Phil.  Even if the skies had stayed clear, we did not have our equipment to observe or image.  Yet, we had arrived at the Prude Ranch with all the baggage we checked with the airline.  Things could have been a lot worse.

Return to page top

    Kevin and I awoke rather early.   Observing conditions the night before forced an early retirement.   Our room was equipped with one large bed, a set of bunk beds, two sinks, a commode and a shower.  However, it lacked a phone, microwave, and coffee maker.  The latter item I considered a necessity.  For practical reasons, the Prude Ranch had no breakfast service that week.  That also meant caffeine deprivation for me that morning.  The first order of business was checking in with the folks who run the Prude Ranch.  The lady behind the counter confessed to being a former Hoosier when learning that I'm a Buckeye.  Throughout the week, the Prude Ranch staff were helpful, courteous and at least as enthusiastic as we were.

    We came to the Prude Ranch with several necessities to buy locally.  The nearest town to the Prude Ranch is Ft. Davis, the county seat of Jeff Davis County, Texas.  Keith Venables mentioned that Alpine, another nearby town,  had a hardware store. In the months prior to departure, Phil carefully briefed us on proper site preparation.  The wind can topple telescopes.  Phil recommended tying down the equipment and putting down a ground cover to hold down the dust.  Kevin and I wanted to buy rope, tarpaulins, chairs, and other sundries before linking up with Phil and setting up equipment.  By an astonishing coincidence, while still in Columbus, Kevin and I both went to the local hardware store on the same night to buy "Prude Nails", 12 inch spikes, for staking things down.  It was a pleasant surprise to find Kevin in line at the cashier's station.

    We set out for Alpine.  On the way, we passed through Ft. Davis.  The centerpiece of the town is the Limpia Hotel.  It resembled the Golden Lamb in Lebanon, Ohio.  I wondered aloud whether the Limpia's owners forgot to put the "O" in front of the name.   (I later learned that "limpia" is the Spanish word for "clear", describing the quality of the water of Limpia Creek which flows out of the Davis Mountains.)  The hotel had a stone facade and a small, but well tended garden to the south.  Ft. Davis also boasted two gas stations, two small carryouts, a post office, courthouse and the Jeff Davis County Public Library.  The library would figure largely in our activities later in the week.  The local bank's building strongly resembled an old west saloon even with its drive through banking lanes.  In true Texas hospitality, Ft. Davis strung a banner across the main drag in front of the Limpia Hotel welcoming the TSP.

    As Kevin and I left Ft. Davis behind, the Caddy hummed down Rte. 118, past the Chihuahua Desert Testing Station.  The landscape was not as desolate as the terrain south and east of El Paso.  Creosote bushes dotted the landscape, as did juniper and eucalyptus trees.  Large cacti resembling palm trees towered over the roadside, their stalks laden with blooms swayed in the wind.  Smaller lobed cacti clung to the ground like shrubs.  Each top lobe sprouted blooms like fingers on a hand.

    Alpine is a well kept town, much larger than Ft. Davis.  Finding a True Value hardware store wasn't difficult, though.  The store was well stocked with inventory.  Kevin and I split up to get the shopping done faster.  However, my attentions were soon drawn to the gun counter.  Yes, in Texas, hardware stores sell guns, but only Texas residents can walk out with their purchases.  The clerk, whose name was Dunlop, confessed to being a former Buckeye.  He informed me that after 25 years in the Medina area, he left Ohio for southwest Texas and never regretted it.  Kevin asked him what people do for a living in the area.  Dunlop's response was, "Anything they can do to get by."  After saying goodbye to Dunlop and paying for our purchases, we went to the grocery store.

    Alpine's grocery store was not very large, but it was modern, clean and also well stocked.  Kevin and I debated the merits of various flavors of pop tarts before settling on brown sugar and cinnamon.  Kevin is a dedicated Pepsi drinker and I'm a Coke man, so we each selected a twelve pack of our beverage of preference.

    It was getting on towards noon and we still had not eaten, nor had I gotten my morning coffee.  After completing our business at the grocery store, Kevin and I eschewed McDonald's and ate lunch at a Subway store.  The shop was down slope from Sul Ross State University, a collection of neo-classical buildings set on a hill east of town.  After finishing our subs, we returned to the Prude Ranch.

    Phil, Kevin and Steve all own mounts manufactured by Astro-Physics, an Illinois company.  These items are considered the Rolls-Royce of observers and astrophotographers.  Phil owns the most robust (and expensive) model 1200.  Kevin owns the next model down, the 900, and Steve owns the lightest, the 400.  All of them have modern electronics that allow the user to direct the pointing electronically.  Using the keypad, the user merely enters the catalogue number of the object and the mount automatically moves the telescope to that object's position.  In the business, this capability is called "go to."  As word spread, people from all over the fields lined up to walk down "AP Row" and admire the equipment.  As one guy wistfully offered, "An Astro-Physics is like a beautiful mistress.  Everyone wants one but few can afford one."

   More time passed waiting to see if the weather would improve.  It didn't.  Yet, the scene was both exciting and tranquil at the same time.  The landscape had a dreamlike cast to it.  I could hear voices in conversation.  They seemed to be nearby but later discovered that they were about 50 yards away. Before retiring for the evening, Phil advised us to check our shoes for scorpions in the morning.  The Prude Ranch variety aren't lethal, but a sting from one can ruin your day.

Return to page top

    Kevin and I awoke rather early.   The night before, once again, overcast skies forced an early retirement.   The first order of business for the day was obtaining my minimum daily requirement of caffeine.  Using coffee as a slick marketing tool, various vendors had set up booths in a lodge  north of the upper field.   Zombies like myself would be drawn to the bait and while enjoying a cup, vendors could make their pitch for our greenbacks.

    Kevin and I awoke rather early.   Observing conditions the night before forced an early retirement. Our room was equipped with one large bed, a set of bunk beds, two sinks, a commode and a shower. However, it lacked a phone, microwave, and coffee maker.  The latter item I considered a necessity. For practical reasons, the Prude Ranch had no breakfast service that week. That also meant caffeine deprivation for me that morning.

    We came to the Prude Ranch with several necessities to buy locally. The nearest town to the Prude Ranch is Ft. Davis, the county seat of Jeff Davis County, Texas. Keith Venables mentioned that Alpine, another nearby town, had a hardware store. Kevin and I wanted to buy tarpaulins, chairs, and other sundries before linking up with Phil and setting up equipment.

    We set out for Alpine. On the way, we passed through Ft. Davis. The centerpiece of the town is the Limpia Hotel. It resembled the Golden Lamb in Lebanon, Ohio. I wondered aloud whether the Limpia's owners forgot to put the "O" in front of the name. The hotel had a stone facade and a small, but well tended garden to the south. Ft. Davis also boasted two gas stations, two small carryouts, a post office, courthouse and the Jeff Davis County Public Library. The library would figure largely in our activities later in the week. The local bank's building strongly resembled an old west saloon even with drive through banking lanes. In true Texas hospitality, Ft. Davis had the welcome mat out for TSP in the form of a banner  stretching across the main drag in front of the Limpia Hotel. I later learned that "limpia" is the Spanish word for "clear", describing the quality of the water of Limpia Creek which flows out of the Davis Mountains.

    As Kevin and I left Ft. Davis behind, the Caddy hummed down Rte. 118, passing the Chihuahua Desert Testing Station. The landscape was not as desolate as the terrain south and east of El Paso. Creosote bushes dotted the landscape, as did juniper and eucalyptus trees. Large cacti resembling palm trees towered over the roadside, their stalks laden with blooms swayed in the wind.  Smaller lobed cacti clung to the ground like shrubs. Each top lobe sprouted blooms like fingers on a hand.

    Alpine is a well kept town, much larger than Ft. Davis. Finding a True Value hardware store wasn't difficult, though. The store was well stocked with inventory. Kevin and I split up to get the shopping done faster. However, my attentions were soon drawn to the gun counter. Yes, in Texas, hardware stores sell guns, but only Texas residents can walk out with their purchases.  The clerk, whose name was Dunlop, confessed to being a former Buckeye. He informed me that after 25 years in the Medina area, he left Ohio for southwest Texas and never regretted it. Kevin asked him what people do for a living in the area.  Dunlop's response was, "Anything they can do to get by." After saying goodbye to Dunlop and paying for our purchases, we went to the grocery store.

    Alpine's grocery store was not very large, but it was modern, clean and also well stocked. Kevin and I debated the merits of various flavors of pop tarts before settling on brown sugar and cinnamon. Kevin is a dedicated Pepsi drinker and I'm a Coke man, so we each selected a twelve pack of our beverage of preference.

    It was getting on towards noon and we still had not eaten, nor had I gotten my morning coffee. After completing our business at the grocery store, Kevin and I eschewed McDonald's and ate lunch at a Subway store. The shop was down slope from Sul Ross State University, a collection of neo-classical buildings set on a hill east of town. After finishing our subs, we returned to the Prude Ranch.

    Arriving at our room, we found a note from Phil advising us of his whereabouts (and that of our gear). When we brought our gear to Phil the Thursday before our departure, he indicated that he normally set up on the "lower field". It turned out that our map described the location Phil described as the "central field". I was personally delighted that the observing site was the closest to the cabin among all the fields. However, after setting up, Kevin and I felt that even that distance was too much given the amount and type of equipment we had. Kevin did not want to leave his cameras out in the open, and carrying the case back and forth to the site from the cabin quickly palled.

    After setting up, Kevin and I formally presented our credentials to the registration committee. TSP offered three lists of objects to observe as challenges for the week.  The rules were simple:  bag the objects, win a pin. The three categories were telescope, globular cluster and binocular.

    Mounted on the wall in front of the ranch office is a bulletin board that functioned as a combined message and commerce center.  Even thought it was early in the week, numerous scraps of paper dotted the board offering everything from eyepieces to complete telescopes to observing aids for sale.  One item caught Kevin's eye:  a large dome tent, $30. I learned something far more important:  the vendor building offered morning coffee. I was heartened that my morning caffeine needs would be fulfilled without investing in equipment I didn't want to buy.

    After dinner courtesy of the ranch, Kevin and I headed off to find the tent owner. Upon arriving at the place described in the ad, we found that the tent owner was not there. Kevin and I had a nice conversation with some nearby folks while we waited for the tent owner to arrive. As the conversation wound down, the tent owner appeared. I was pleasantly surprised to find out that the seller was none other than Rod. After inspecting the bundle, we settled down to haggle. Unfortunately, I botched the negotiations as I had become confused over the prices of the tent we wanted and another item Rod had up for sale. Although we ended up paying Rod his asking price, it was still a good deal by any definition of the phrase. Now we had a very reasonably priced, on-site shelter for cases and other items neither Kevin nor I wanted to haul back and forth to the cabin.

    We were clouded out Monday night.  Despite the unfavorable conditions, Kevin and I remained at the site and got acquainted with our neighbors. Two of Phil's fellow bunkhouse residents, Steve and Chris, were set up next to us. We sat up, hoping the weather would clear. Polaris darted in and out of the clouds, but stayed out long enough to polar align our telescopes. Polar alignment is vital for good astrophotography and observing. The mount must be oriented properly with respect to the north celestial pole, the point in the sky that all the stars appear to rotate around. The NCP is within 1/2 a degree of Polaris. My telescope mount has a small scope that enables the user to locate Polaris and orient it so that the telescope follows a star or other deep sky object as accurately as engineering allows.

    Phil, Kevin and Steve all own mounts manufactured by Astro-Physics, an Illinois company. These items are considered the Rolls-Royce of observers and astrophotographers. Phil owns the most robust (and expensive) model 1200. Kevin owns the next model down, the 900, and Steve owns the lightest, the 400. All of them have modern electronics that allow the user to direct the pointing electronically. Using the keypad, the user merely enters the catalogue number of the object and the mount automatically moves the telescope to that object's position. In the business, this capability has a name,  it's called "go to." As word spread, people from all over the fields lined up to walk down "AP Row" and admire the equipment. As one guy wistfully offered, "An Astro-Physics is like a beautiful mistress. Everyone wants one but few can afford one."

    More time passed waiting to see if the weather would improve. It didn't. Yet, the scene was both exciting and tranquil at the same time. The landscape had a dreamlike cast to it. I could hear voices in conversation. They seemed to be nearby but later discovered that they were about 50 yards away.

Return to page top

    As if to add insult to injury, Kevin and I discovered that a couple of hours after we called it quits Wednesday night, the clouds rolled out.  Those hardy souls who stuck it out on the observing field got unexpected additional hours of clear, steady and very dark west Texas skies.

    Turning once again to the problems with the laptop and ST-7, Phil took pity on me and offered the use of his backup computer, a 486 class laptop.  Phil also had a zip drive but unfortunately, did not have the drivers to run it.  This necessitated a trip to the Jeff Davis County Public Library and its fast internet connection.  We downloaded the drivers, purchased some provisions, and returned to the Prude Ranch.

    Kevin installed the camera control software and fired up the camera.  Unfortunately, we had no more success with Phil's laptop than with mine.  Thus, we were left with two laptops that would not work with the ST-7, and Kevin's laptop that would.  After trying every possible software related solution, Kevin hit upon the answer.  He swapped the cable he used with his ST-10 camera with the ST-7's cable.  Voila (or maybe eureka)!  The ST-7 worked without a hitch with my laptop.  Also, Kevin had no problems using the swapped cable with his ST-10.  We believed that we swept aside the last impediment to great imaging.  Now, all we needed was cooperation from the weather.

    Observing conditions Thursday evening teetered on the edge of obscuration.  After consulting with Phil and Larry over dinner, we all decided to head to the observing field.  While dodging clouds early in the evening, I sighted in on Omega Centauri.  Weather permitting, I could get the image of this object now that the computer worked.

    The largest globular cluster in the sky, this magnificent object rose over the Davis Mountains shortly after dark. This image is an 8 second integration in B&W with Kevin's ST7, calibrated, with maximum entropy and light unsharp mask applied.  OC got above the ridge south of the Prude Ranch but not by much.  It was, however, much higher than it gets in central Ohio skies.  In the steady atmosphere at 5000 feet, the low altitude did not affect the quality of the imaging at all.

    Almost immediately after I obtained this image at about 10:30 PM, more clouds rolled in.  The sky was almost overcast, but not completely. Instead of hunting for more objects, I decided to work on the autoguiding program to get the computer and CCD camera to guide the mount.  There were enough bright stars poking through the holes in the clouds to sight in on and test the guiding.

    Shutting out virtually all other distractions, I found a relatively bright star, sighted in on it, and began manipulating the software settings.  The software displayed numbers in two windows.  One number corresponded to the right ascension axis, the other number corresponded to declination.  The numbers changed constantly as the program sent commands to the motors to speed up or idle.  The trick was to get the numbers to stay as close to zero as possible.  When that happened, the mount tracks as accurately as its design and construction permits.

    At about 11:00 PM, Phil and Larry pronounced the evening a total loss.  Based upon their combined quarter century of TSP experience, they decided to retire for the evening.  Despite the conditions, there were still enough stars visible to continue working on the autoguiding.

    I kept at it doggedly.  Try as I might, I could not get the numbers to stay at the recommended levels.  I fussed and adjusted, but the situation did not improve.

    At about 2:00 AM, though, the clouds disappeared as if a curtain had been whisked away by an unseen hand.  The seeing and steadiness of the Prude Ranch sky reasserted itself.  I thought it was a good sign.  Perhaps I could lick the problem soon and use this unexpected bonus to bag more objects.

    I began taking images of M83, a beautiful barred spiral galaxy in the constellation Hydra.  M83 lies somewhat further south and east of M104.  I could not go much beyond 15 seconds without seeing stars leave trails on the image.  The autoguiding program should have made the camera yield nice and round stars.   It did its best but the stars were still football-shaped.  Despite the "smearing", the images revealed much of the delicate structure of this beautiful object.

    The hours both flew and dragged past at the same time, if that was possible.  Chris went to tell Phil and Larry that the skies were clear.  Kevin began working on objects in the Sagittarius region, an area rich in stars and nebulas.  The center of the Milky Way Galaxy lies at a point roughly between Sagittarius and Scorpius.   The main stars of Sagittarius give the constellation a "teapot" appearance.  The Milky Way looked like steam coming out of the teapot's spout, spreading all the way across the sky.  Mars stared down like an angry, bloodshot eye that seemed to reflect my frustration.

    Chris returned and went back to his project, trying to earn the TSP Observer's Pin.  His 8" Meade telescope was located on my right.  To my left, Kevin was using his 3 nanometer hydrogen alpha (Ha) filter along with the regular color filters to capture stunning images of M8, the Lagoon Nebula, and M16, the Eagle Nebula.  Instead of using a clear filter for the luminance layer, Kevin used the Ha filter to highlight and enhance areas of colder dust and gas embedded in the brighter areas of the nebulae.  The effect was staggering.  Details not appearing in a clear filter leaped out of the image with the Ha filter.

    As dawn began breaking, I was no nearer to solving my problems.  I began running through the setup checklist in my mind.  Suddenly, a thought occurred to me.  When I set up my mount on Monday, I realized I had only partially polar aligned it.  In the polar alignment process, the mount must be adjusted not only for the latitude of its location but also for its longitude and the time that the polar alignment is being conducted.  In the United States, the base lines of longitude are 75, 90, 105 and 120 degrees for calibrating the Super Polaris mount.  I recalled that I had never taken the mount from the Columbus area and hence, had not needed to adjust the longitude scale.  Since I did not adjust the longitude scale when I polar aligned the mount on Monday, the mount was set to a location 7 degrees of longitude east of the nearest base line of longitude because Columbus is on the 83rd meridian, 7 degrees east of the 90th meridian.  Putting it simply, my mount was set to 98 degrees west longitude and not to 104 degrees where the Prude Ranch is located.  As a result, it was not properly polar aligned.   The natural consequence of improper polar alignment is field rotation, the visible evidence of which is stars that leave streaks across the image.  It took only about a minute or so to correct the setting.

    One minute later, I found a star field that the rising sun had not washed out.  Setting the camera for a three minute integration, I watched the autoguiding indicators stay right around zero as the clock ticked on the integration.  Three minutes later, the computer displayed an image of nice, round stars.  I had solved the guiding problem; however, the clock had run out on me.  Those of us who stuck it out agreed:  to get clear skies at the Prude Ranch, just send Phil and Larry to bed.  We decided that we would ask them to go to bed if conditions threatened again.

Return to page top

    On Sunday evening. driving down State Route 117 between Kent and the Prude Ranch, Kevin and I drove past McDonald Observatory.  Its three large domes gleamed pearly white in the last light of the day.  It seemed as if the domes called out an invitation across the peaks and valleys of the Davis Mountains to dive into the infinite reaches of space from its mountain perch.

    One of the sights we had to see was the observatory grounds and as much of the facilities that the staff would let us into.  Almost immediately after TSP began, sign-up sheets for guided tours of the observatory went up on the wall outside the Prude Ranch dining hall.  The excursion included transportation for a nominal fee.  After the sign-up sheets went up, Thursday slots promptly filled up.  Kevin and I signed up for the Friday tour.  I wanted to get a close up look at the 107 inch telescope and maybe take a picture of its mirror.  Legend has it that a disgruntled ex-staff member literally went ballistic and shot at the mirror with a pistol.  When the bullet failed to shatter the mirror, he flung a hammer at it.  Legend also has it that the blows actually improved the optics.  Nevertheless, it's not something I would try with any of my scopes.

    I learned early on that there are more than three telescopes at McDonald Observatory.  Among the instruments on the mountains are a 30 inch and a 16 inch.  The latter is equipped for solar observing.  I mused about how great it would be to have these instruments available for our personal use.  One could observe the sun by day through the 16 inch, then move over to the 30 inch for deep sky work at night.

    The previous evening's observing run ended at sunup.  We arose later than normal, leaving us with very little time to eat lunch and catch the shuttle to the observatory.  Not wanting to race around, Kevin and I decided to drive there ourselves.

    I make it a point to visit anything that's remotely astronomy related wherever I travel.  On my honeymoon, I dragged my less-than-interested new wife to the Montreal Museum of Science.  She reluctantly sat through the planetarium show and afterward, posed for a picture next to the museum's huge sundial.  It's a good thing to make sure your new spouse is aware of your love of the heavens right from the start of your marriage.  Your new spouse better be comfortable with the competition.  Astronomy is definitely a jealous mistress.

    Kevin and I worried about the conditions.  Clouds had once again moved in from the southwest.  It not only endangered the chances of using the solar viewing rig at McDonald Observatory, it also threatened evening observing as well.

    Approaching McDonald from the southeast, the sight of the two domes topping Mt. Locke cannot fail to leave a visitor awestruck.  On the right is the dome housing the 82 inch  Otto Struve Telescope and on the left is the dome housing the famed 107 inch Harlan Smith Telescope.   The two smaller domes down slope house the 16 inch solar telescope and the 30 inch used by the McDonald Lunar Ranging Station.

    Before ascending the mountain, the visitor's center greets the pilgrim.  Inside the contemporary building is a wealth of information about McDonald Observatory and the other major observatories located in the southwest U.S.  The visitor's center has the obligatory gift shop that sells mementos of the encounter with McDonald.  The observatory staff appeared to labor hard to keep the displays of merchandise well stocked and elegantly arranged in the gift shop.   I bought some trinkets for my children and a pop can foam insulator to keep the drinks cool while on the observing field.  With the preliminaries completed, we headed up the mountain.

    At the summit of Mt. Locke, 1500 feet above the valley floor, the vista took my breath away.  I felt like an eagle soaring over Jeff Davis County.  Perched atop the peak are the 82 and 107 inch telescopes.  Unfortunately, the 82 inch was closed to visitors.  Kevin and I moved on to the dome housing the 107 inch Harlan Smith Telescope.

    Kevin and I climbed the stairs to the observing floor of the Harlan Smith Telescope.  The guide was in the middle of his presentation.  The telescope has a rich history.  It continues to yield valuable data for researchers every clear night.  The observatory frequently recoats the mirror to maintain its capabilities.

    While walking from Mt. Locke to Mt. Fowlkes, the site of the Hobby-Eberly Telescope, cloud cover increased to the point of overcast.  We would not get to use the solar telescope. The latest addition to McDonald Observatory is the Hobby-Eberly Telescope, also known as the HET, commissioned in 1997.  This sign at the visitors' center described the telescope in its design stage.  The HET is optimized for spectroscopy--the study of the components of stellar light--and not visual observation. The HET is housed in a very modern building.  Inside the entrance is a small stage and several benches where the McDonald staff deliver presentations.  Several wall mounted TVs ran a program describing the origin, construction and present use of the HET.  Beyond the stage area is a glass covered gallery to view the inside of the dome. Unlike the dome of the Harlan Smith, the general public is not allowed on the observing floor.  As the afternoon passed, the clouds thickened above the HET dome.

    This is my kind of McDonald's!  Who needs the golden arches when you have the white domes?  I believe that had Ohio's climate been as conducive to astronomy as west Texas is, our own Perkins Observatory would be this kind of facility.  McDonald makes public programs an integral part of its existence, like Perkins.  However, unlike Perkins, professional astronomers travel to Jeff Davis County from around the world to conduct extensive research in McDonald Observatory's state of the art facilities.   For much more information on McDonald Observatory than I can possibly retype, go to http://vc.as.utexas.edu/ and save me the time and effort of cutting and pasting.

    The nickel tour of McDonald Observatory was definitely a high point of the day. After dinner, we listened to Stephen J. O'Meara, an associate editor of Sky & Telescope, present his theory in a trim 90 minutes that volcanic eruptions are related to the phases of the moon.  The National Geographic Society and the Smithsonian Museum finance his trips to volcanoes around the world to observe eruptions and gather data to support his proposition. After this session, part one of the Great Texas Giveaway began.

    Kevin ended up winning an Ash Domes hat and a Hubble Space Telescope Heritage poster.  Phil told us the story about how a few years ago he won the grand prize in the Great Texas Giveaway:  a 7 inch Maksutov-Cassegrain LX200. The Mak-Cass optical system uses a thick front lens, called a corrector plate, to refract light rays as they travel to the main mirror.  The rays bounce off a spherically shaped, concave mirror to a shiny surface on the inside of the front lens.  The convex shiny surface is called the secondary mirror.  The light then bounces back toward the main mirror, exiting the optical tube through a hole in the center of the mirror.  In the Mak-Cass design, the corrector plate changes the angle of light rays traveling to the main mirror so that all light reflecting off it meets at the secondary.  In the absence of a corrector plate, a spherical mirror will not bring all the rays of light to the same focus point.  This is called spherical aberration.  The Hubble Space Telescope suffered from this very problem for the first several years of its life in orbit.   The Mak-Cass system is an elegant design especially for smaller telescopes, providing high contrast images of objects at a reasonable cost. The LX200 series mount has an onboard database and computer control that will point the telescope to any one of tens of thousands of objects.

    The GTG drawings culminated in the award of a huge Nagler 31 mm Type 5 eyepiece, dubbed "The Holy Hand Grenade" for its size and girth. The grand prizes--two computer controlled telescopes--a Meade ETX125-EC and a Meade LX90--would be awarded in part two of the Great Texas Giveaway the next night.

    Upon the conclusion of the drawing, we left the hall and looked skyward. The sky was totally overcast. We decided to get to the field and hope Larry and Phil would hit the sack early. We waited and waited and waited but no luck. Kevin and I joined many dejected observers at the Red Light Cafe, the after hours joint. The Red Light's brisket burritos greatly helped keep observers going at night. Inside the Prude Ranch office, someone had a television running. The screen's brilliance tended to destroy dark adaption quickly.

    Inside the office, a crowd of people stood and stared at the cloud carnage. A huge mass drifted northeast from the Gulf of Cortez across Sonora and Chihuahua and completely covered Jeff Davis County. Looking at the map suddenly made me realize just how close we were to Mexico's Pacific coastline. I noticed that skies were clear to the north. I spoke aloud my hope that high pressure building in the north part of the Texas panhandle would push the clouds south and away.  I was quickly advised that my ignorance of the prevailing weather patterns marked me as a non-Texan. The winds generally cross Jeff Davis County from the southwest. That being the case, all indications pointed toward a total cloud-out that night. At about midnight, dark out rules were relaxed but nobody seemed to care much at the field. A small spark of optimism remained, considering what had happened the previous two evenings. Phil and Larry had retired for the evening but even that had no effect on conditions. What little magic we previously had failed to materialize.  Those who remained held onto the hope that the clouds would dissipate. After another hour, it appeared likely that no miracle would visit the Prude Ranch. Everyone was disappointed that we had lost another precious night. Yet, the camaraderie among those of us crazy enough to stay up under cloudy skies lifted my spirits. I realized that a major part of the TSP experience is the chance to enjoy the company of other amateur astronomers even when there's nothing astronomical to do.
 

Return to page top 

    The disappointment of last night's weather conditions slipped away during the night's sleep.  I was awakened by a loud pounding on the door.  "Who is it?" "It's Phil."  I painfully extracted myself from the bunk's concave mattresses and opened the door.  It was indeed Phil.  He brought bad tidings.  "I'm leaving this morning, you have two hours to tear down."  Phil explained that the weather was definitely not traditional TSP conditions.   He decided that he would get a day's jump on the trip home by leaving that morning.  Kevin and I tried to talk Phil out of leaving to no avail.  After pulling on my clothes and getting my morning java, I headed to the field to pack.  Phil kindly agreed to transport home more of our gear than he hauled to the Prude Ranch.  Kevin and I proceeded to disassemble our respective rigs and support materiel.  We also helped Phil with his Astro-Physics 1200 mount, Celestron C-14 Schmidt-Cassegrain, and all the other accoutrements.  Once loading was complete, Phil set out for Columbus.  Kevin and I went to lunch.

    After lunch, I had to come to grips with a quandary.  I was scheduled to give my presentation on "CCD From the Ground Up" during the afternoon session.  The reformatting of my laptop's hard drive erased my presentation notes.  I was under pressure to reorganize so that I would not embarrass myself.  I was confident I could assemble the information in time.  The Saturday afternoon group of speakers gave excellent presentations.  I especially enjoyed Dave Henley's presentation on astrophotography.
 
    The audience at my presentation were very well informed.  After outlining my strategy of CCD imaging on the cheap, I fielded questions from them.  The questions centered around the Cookbook camera, the Genesis/Audine camera and other components for successful astroimaging.  One of the attendees, Dr. Tom Mote, introduced himself as a retired airman who once was posted at Lockbourne AFB (now known as Rickenbacker ANGB) south of Columbus.  Unfortunately, he had left Columbus about thirty years before.  Columbus is certainly a much different city now than it was in 1971.  In recognition of my services, I received a handsome certificate suitable for framing.... if I can find a frame good enough for it.
 

   The weather looked very promising for a great night of observing.  I walked around the ranch admiring the beauty of the Chihuahuan Desert.  May, it seemed, is the time for cactus flowers.  During my stroll, I had a chance to reflect on my time at the Prude Ranch.  According to Phil, the week's weather was not a normal one at the Prude Ranch. He was discouraged enough to pack up and leave. I was unhappy at the prospect of a clear night without my equipment. Yet, I did manage to accomplish my chief goal of imaging Omega Centauri. I got a nice image of the Sombrero, and learned not to neglect the longitude settings on my mount. I had fun working with Kevin's ST-7, my first experience working with a commercially produced CCD camera. I spent a good part of the day in search of two folks who had posted ads offering some gear for sale at very reasonable prices. To my chagrin, the items had been sold not too long before I went bargain hunting.  I snoozed and losed.

    Many folks had packed up. Cars and trucks left the Prude Ranch in a steady stream all morning and afternoon.  Kevin reminded me that this was actually a good thing. The two grand prizes in the Great Texas Giveaway-- a Meade LX-90 and an ETX-125EC--were up for grabs. One of the requirements that would prove important was, as Kevin pointed out, one must be present to win. Those who left that day actually increased our chances of winning.

    I called home several times that day but did not get an answer. After the drawing began, I decided to try another call.  Lo and behold, my wife answered the phone. We began talking and I lost track of time. Suddenly, Kevin came around the corner of the building. He told me excitedly, "They called your name!  You were NOT PRESENT TO WIN!" It turned out that my name was drawn for one of the door prizes:  all three sets of astro cards and an Ash Dome hat. I already own one set of the astro cards, and I didn't care for the hat, but I regretted not being able to collect the prize and uphold the honor of the CAS. Unfortunately, nobody I knew won the two grand prizes.

    Upon the conclusion of the Great Texas Giveaway, the crowd dispersed to the observing fields. Night had fallen and the sky was crystal clear. There were so many stars out that the best Ohio night skies were only average by comparison. Chris was determined to earn his TSP Observer's Pin. With nothing much else to do, I helped him out by confirming his sightings.

    By midnight, Chris' pin quest had to wait until the rise of the balance of the objects later that night. I strolled over to the Red Light Cafe for a snack. The Scorpius-Sagittarius region crested the ridge south of the Prude Ranch. I held my hand out over my pants leg and discovered that what I heard was true: the Milky Way can cast a shadow!

Return to page top