Sunday, September 30, 2012
Night of the Giants
Night two of
Unk and Miss Dorothy’s latest Chiefland odyssey did not look like it was going
to be too productive, muchachos. Clouds had been building all day, and the Clear Sky Clock ("Charts" if you prefer) only looked good if’n you fancy little white squares. I tried not to worry. What would be would be,
and our first night, Wednesday night, night one of The Herschel Project Phase
Two was dyn-o-mite, as I told y’all
last week.
No, Unk
didn’t worry; he just enjoyed the day with Miss D. After a breakfast at the
Day’s Inn that, for Unk, consisted of not one but two (small) sausage biscuits and a make-it-yourself waffle on which
he dumped about a gallon of Log Cabin and a pound of margarine, we headed off on a
new adventure, to Fanning Springs State Park,
just a few miles back up Highway 19 from Chiefland.
What we
found there was a small but beautifully maintained Florida park. The pretty emerald
green springs were full of fish, mainly mullet like we’d seen at Manatee
Springs the day before, and we spent quite some time walking the trails of the
lush and verdant place. Off season, it was mostly just us and the park rangers,
which was cool. Your old Uncle sure was in the mood for a little of that blessed
peace and quiet.
There’s a
boardwalk at Fanning Springs just like at Manatee Springs that leads down to the river, and by “river” I mean the beautiful Suwannee River. Unlike at Manatee Springs, access to the river bank is easy,
and Unk couldn’t resist going down and dipping a hand in the Suwannee so he
could say he’d touched those fabled waters of song and story.
 |
| The Legendary 19/98 Grill. |
This little
eatery, it turned out, was named for Highway 19 and Highway 98, which run
concurrently in the Fanning Springs – Chiefland area. “19/98 Grill,” get it? It’s
small, it’s rustic, and it operates on the pub system Unk and Miss D. have
enjoyed in the UK. Go up to the counter, order what you want, they bring your victuals to your table when they are ready. The question was “What should they
bring?” For such a wee place, the menu was freaking EXTENSIVE. Unk was a little
muddled by all the choices, and ordered an old standby, a buffalo chicken sandwich
with a side of blue cheese and fries. Miss D., following Unk’s distinctly non-healthy
lead, got a chili cheese dog.
When the
food arrived it was immediately obvious why the place was getting such a good
reputation and why it was well on the way to standing room only on this
Thursday lunchtime. Not only was the food that arrived attractive, it was some kind of good, campers. I got the tip-off
it would be something special when I opened the container of blue cheese.
Thick, fresh, full of chunks of real blue cheese. The chicken was wonderful, crispy
but juicy with just enough buffalo taste, the lettuce and tomato seemed to have
been picked that morning, and the bun was moist and similarly fresh. The fries
were every bit as good, but I limited myself to just a few, since my poor
stomach was already beginning to protest the rich/junky fare of the past two
days. Our verdict? We will dine at 19/98 every CAV trip from now on.
After that
stellar meal it was time for a long nap, natch, followed by some strategizing. By
late afternoon, the sky wasn’t looking bad. Sure, there were clouds, but they
appeared to be more of the fluffy afternoon variety than of the impending
severe weather species. I did not, however, think there would be much chance of
doing more Herschel sketching. Looked like “catch as catch can” at best. So
what would I do? Maybe I’d give my uber giant binoculars a night under the
stars—finally.
 |
| It was every bit as good as it looks. |
My giant binocular story began when I read a pair of reviews good buddy and binocular guru Phil Harrington wrote about the huge Zhumells his wife had given him for his birthday. In a Cloudy Nights posting and a more detailed Astronomy Magazine review, Phil fairly raved about their quality, especially considering their miniscule price, less than 250 George Washingtons. I’d been wanting a pair of glasses with more oomph than my time-honored Burgess 15x70s, and if Phil liked the Zhumells, I was pretty sure I would too.
I had a few
extra bucks burning a hole in my pocket at the time, so I sent ‘em off to
Zhumell dealer binoculars.com and set about making plans to accommodate the
monsters. I knew good and well I wouldn’t hand-hold glasses of this size and
weight (ten pounds plus). I had a hefty camera tripod that would be sufficient
for initial checkout, but I also knew that would not work well for real
observing.
A standard photographic
tripod, even a tall, heavy one, is not sufficient for binoculars of this
size, especially those, like the Tachyons, with straight-through eyepieces. In
addition to breaking your neck when you are looking much above the horizon, the
motions are never easy and smooth enough for astronomical use. Balance? Nearly
impossible.
There are
plenty of big binocular mounts, everything from “parallelogram”
mounts to innovative rigs that use a
mirror to reflect the sky into the binocular’s objectives. Both these
approaches were problematical for me, though. Parallelogram mounts in sizes
large enough to accommodate 25x100s were expensive once you figured in the cost
of the tripod sufficient for them, and the mirror mount looked like it would
dew up instantly in the Possum Swamp humidity. I did some more looking around
and asking around and came up with another possibility, a mount designed expressly
for monster binocs that was sold as a kit for a reasonable sum.
 |
| The Suwannee of song and story. |
The dude
selling this mount was one whose reputation I knew, Pete Peterson, who’s quite
famous in the Meade world for his upgrade kits for LX200s. Even Celestron
fanboy me has a Peterson product, an “Eye Opener” big back for the 3-inch rear
port on my NexStar 11 GPS (Pete no longer makes these for Celestron scopes, unfortunately).
His binocular mount? It was in essence a
pipe mount, something I was intimately familiar with from my days as a
starving teen astronomer.
The EZ Binoc Mount kit, the
web site informed me, came with all required custom items like specially
threaded/welded/drilled pieces, assorted hardware, a tube of valve grinding
compound, and detailed instructions. The buyer would supply the pipes needed to
complete the device. The fare? About a hundred bucks for the kit plus sixty
more (or so depending on where you buy your galvanized pipe) of user-furnished
stuff. I read the reviews, not just on Pete’s site, but on other I-net
astronomy venues, and was favorably impressed. I decided that if the binoculars
that arrived were good, I’d go with Pete’s somewhat Rube Goldberg-ish looking contraption.
Before too many afternoons had gone by, I arrived home at
good, old Chaos Manor South to find a largish box in the front hall. HOT DOG!
Opening (tearing into it, actually) the box revealed a nice enough aluminum
case not that different from what a lot of Chinese gear comes in these days
(did I really have to tell you the Tachyons come from China?). Not a Pelican
case, but sufficient unto its purpose. It was what was inside that case that
counted, however…
What was inside impressed me just as much as it had Phil.
Big, and I mean BIG binoculars with a rubber armored body and a strong central
shaft with a hefty tripod mounting post. I did note, as Phil had, that the
central shaft had a little side to side play in it, but, also as he had, I
didn’t think it would cause much—if any—problem. The big objectives? Greenish multi-coated
things of beauty. The eyepieces seemed nice, too, with a decent AFOV and, I
noted, threads for standard 1.25-inch filters. As is the case with most giant
binocs, the eyepieces focused separately in helical fashion.
My strongest impression, though? How heavy the things were. They come in at a bit over 10 pounds, but
seemed more like 20 when I lifted them out of their case. Well, that was OK; I
had the option of ordering Pete’s mount if these things seemed worthy. I was
lucky that there would be a public outreach session at The Possum Swamp
Astronomical Society’s, in-town site the very next night. I’d haul out a big
tripod and the Tachyons and find out how good the optics were.
When our young guests had scurried off, I shut down Cindy
Lou, my RV-6 Dynascope reflector, which is my frequent public outreach scope,
and got out the Tachyons. Put them on the tripod and endeavored to get them
pointed at the Moon. And just as quickly removed them. Too hard to balance. Too
hard to get my eyes at the eyepieces. As I’d figgered, a photographic tripod of
any kind simply would not do. But I still needed to check their optics. I did
that by seating myself in a lawn chair, bracing my arms to the extent they
could be braced, and pointing these monsters at the Moon by hand and by force
of will.
The Moon was a lovely, warm-looking, cratered masterpiece.
25x is more than enough to reveal plenty of details. The images, once I, by
hook and crook, managed to focus, were very sharp, chromatic aberration was minimal.
Pointing at a nearby star field revealed impressively sharp stars across the 3-degree
field. Next morning I sent Mr. Peterson my credit card number.
Even if I hadn’t dealt with Pete before, I’d have had a good
impression from the get-go. Shortly after I ordered, I received a detailed
email telling/showing me the parts I needed to buy to complete my mount. I
bopped down to Lowes one afternoon on the way home from work and was able to
get all the pipes and connectors in one go. I probably could have saved some money
by dealing with a pipe supply company, but Lowes was convenient and Unk is, as
you know, even lazier than he is stingy.
In a remarkably short period of time, the box from Peterson
containing the custom parts and instructions was at the old manse and I was
ready to give it a go. Frankly, I was a little nervous if not scared looking at all those strange
parts accompanied by the ones I got at Lowes. The cats were extremely suspicious. I decided I would
not freak out; I would just follow Pete’s illustrated instructions step by
step.
And what excellent instructions they were. Unlike some folks
offering similar kits, Pete does not assume you know anything about the parts
or procedures involved in putting the EZ Binoc together. He leads you by the
hand and was even able to get old fumble-fingered Unk going. One good thing? I
knew I was on unfamiliar ground and gritted my teeth and followed the directions
exactly, something y’all know I am
usually loath to do.
 |
| "That's a lot of parts, paw-paw." |
I was positively humming along, y’all, with the mount really beginning to look like something, even if that something could be best described as a plumber’s nightmare. Till I ran aground just as I was finishing up. I had purchased the recommended five and ten pound barbell weights at Academy Sporting Goods and had put them in the right places, but when it was rubber meets road time and I mounted my Tachyons on the thing, it would not even come close to balancing. As soon as I let go, the binoculars headed for the ceiling. Removed one 10 pounder and they sunk toward the floor. Was I sunk?
No. Miss Dorothy whipped out her calculator and did the math
to get me out of the mess I was in. She not only determined which section of
pipe on the main strut needed to be replaced, but how long that replacement
should be. I stopped at Lowes one last time, got a shorter pipe, screwed it on in
place of the original one, and all was well. The main strut balanced perfectly
with barbell weights on one end and the binoculars on the other. With the
friction locks just barely engaged on the binoc end, the Tachyons balanced perfectly,
seeming to float in mid air. A little maneuvering around in the house showed
the motions to be smooth to the point of buttery.
The only true test of astro gear is under the stars however.
It being a weeknight with a gibbous Moon in the sky, the best I could do was
the front yard, and I hauled the mount out there as soon as a few bright
sparklers winked on. Mounted the binoculars and got to work.
 |
| Done! |
Some folks have wondered whether one of the moving joints
might unscrew with disastrous results—there is nothing to prevent the main strut from unscrewing from
the stand after all, causing disaster. In practice, this is not a problem. The
only joint that is likely to unscrew is that one on the main strut, and as long
as you remember to move clockwise on that axis whenever possible, there will
never be a problem.
The binoculars themselves? When you are dealing with
relatively high power (for binocs), 25x, focus and other adjustments become
more critical than with small glasses, especially if your eyes tend to have
trouble merging objects in binoculars and binoviewers of any kind like mine do.
I found inter-pupillary spacing (separation of the two eyepieces) needed to be just
right, but when I’d done that and my eyes had a moment to acclimate, stars,
including bright ones, became nice pinpoints.
What else? Naturally, the Moon again proved to be a wonder
with these binoculars. Saturn was in the sky, too, and it turned out that 25x
was indeed enough to (barely) resolve the ring, with the golden planet looking
simply amazing despite its small size. What wasn’t marvelous? Getting the
binoculars aimed at Saturn. Clearly, at 25x you gotta have a finder.
I lucked out finder-wise. I already had one of them
new-fangled Chinese red dot jobs, you know the ones that let you select various
reticle shapes. All I needed was some way to mount it on the Tachyons. It
didn’t take long to find perfection, even if it wasn’t cheap. Garrett Optical had a bracket for this very finder
that would clamp onto the glasses’ central bar. It was 50 bucks, but looked
better than anything else I found. I ordered it.
After that? Nothing. Not for over a year. Once the basic
observing for the Herschel Project was done, though, I began to think about my binoculars
again. And sometimes the stars and planets are in just the right alignment. As
I told you-all last week, I was exhausted prior to me and Dorothy’s just-finished
Chiefland expedition. The weather was a factor, too. Even if I’d felt like
doing serious imaging, it didn’t look like the sky would cooperate. What to do?
I packed the Tachyons and the EZ Binoc in the 4Runner with the C8.
Wednesday night, our first night down Chiefland Way, was
devoted to sketching Herschels and not much else. It appeared the weather that
night would be the best we could expect for the trip and I wanted to take
advantage of it. The Tachyons stayed in their case. Thursday? I wasn’t sure
we’d see anything—not according to
the dadgum Weather Channel.
By the time 7 p.m. rolled around, I was ready to hit the old
observing field no matter what the consarned weatherman said. And I had hopes.
The clouds that had been thickening all afternoon were suddenly beginning to scamper
off in the direction of the Gulf of Mexico. Maybe, just maybe.
I uncovered the C8, Celeste, since I wanted to try another
go-to alignment with her Atlas mount’s new software, but the main course would
be the Tachyons. First order of bidness was getting the EZ Binoc set up.
Despite me having made some marks on the mount’s rotating joints with a magic
marker, I was soon confused about what should be positioned where. Luckily, I’d
had the good sense to take iPhone pictures of the thing when it was correctly arranged
in the living room the Saturday before our departure. With the aid of the pix,
the Tachyons were soon on the mount and ready to go.
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| The Peterson mount looks strange but really works. |
First object? Good old M22, the great globular star cluster
adjacent to the Teapot’s lid. It wasn’t quite resolved—it wasn’t quite dark yet,
either—but it was big and it was beautiful. Again, I marveled at how well the
silly looking mount worked. I never stooped or strained, even when pointing
near the zenith. Movements were crazy smooth and precise. While there is a wee
bit of springiness in the mount, vibrations settle out quickly. Pete makes a
larger mount kit, the EZ Binoc Super Mount, but I am entirely happy with the
standard model.
“Happy” does not begin to describe how I felt when
astronomical twilight arrived. I had never seen the Milky Way like this. From
my first target after M22, M8, the Lagoon Nebula, I was in heaven. The stars
across the big field were numberless, sometimes resolved, sometimes appearing
like nebulous clouds. The real nebula in M8 was starkly visible along with the
dark “lagoon” lane. The tiny stars of the superimposed open cluster, NGC 6530,
were hard little pinpricks, but that was not the draw. The draw was the 3-D
effect.
As my eyes became accustomed to the Tachyons, I began to see
that some of the stars involved in the nebula, especially those in the dark
areas, were actually behind the gas
cloud, farther away. This has no basis in reality, of course. The baseline
between my eyes was not nearly long enough to provide real 3-D on an object at
least 3,000 light years out in deep space. But that’s not what my brain thought.
It decided that since I was looking with two eyes, I must be seeing depth. Though not real, this faux 3-D effect was striking and startling.
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| The Tachyons. |
Back at the
motel, I opened a beer and thought about the incredible sights I’d seen. Over
the years, I’ve often heard folks rave about what big binoculars can do, but I
never understood, not till now. I sat watching the TV, but not paying much
attention. Instead, I was replaying in my mind the copious wonders the Zhumells
had shown me on this very special night…
M22. As astronomical twilight comes on, I can now see the occasional star
pop out around the cluster’s periphery. Set in a crazy-rich field. The 3D
effect is very noticeable.
M28 is not at all resolved. Small, like a fuzzy star. Set in a field milky
with hordes of faint background stars
.
M8 and M20 are in the same field
and incredible. The dark lane, the “lagoon,” is prominent. The huge field is
just full of resolved and unresolved stars, clusters, and nebulosity. I was
surprised to see that M20, the Trifid, at least hinted at its lobed nature
occasionally at 25x, but it dern sure did. The open cluster just to the
northeast, M21, is lovely, like a
handful of gems thrown up into the dark night.
M17, The Swan, is small but awesome. The Swan shape is easy. I’m beginning
to pick up some of the outlying nebulosity, too. Here in the main stream of the
Milky Way, the background is crowded with stars.
I wasn’t sure I’d see anything of the
Eagle Nebula, IC 4703, surrounding M16,
but here it is. I’m seeing the cloud involved the open cluster easily, and at
times the eagle shape is evident.
In the 25x100s, M11, the Wild Duck is a thing of wonder. It is a little small, but
impressive nevertheless. A few brighter stars are resolved, but the overall
effect is like Hubble’s Variable Nebula, a comet shape with a brighter star as
the “head.” Although the cluster was nearly overhead, I had no problem viewing
it with the EZ Binoc Mount.
Back down south to catch M7, the Ptolemy cluster, a glittering
sea of sapphires. It’s too big for most telescopes at 80’ across, but it just
fits into the Tachyons’ field. What do I think? “Awesome, incredible.” I
am wearing out those words, but the southern sky is just that in these
binoculars.
M6, the Butterfly Cluster, M7’s neighbor, is really better for big binocs
or telescopes than M7, since it’s a much more compact 25’ in size. I usually
have a hard time seeing a butterfly here, but with plenty of open space around
it I suddenly see two looping arcs of stars forming the wings.
With Sagittarius starting to sink, I
made a quick run through the little globular clusters along the base of the teapot.
M69 is a small, round fuzzy that’s
not at all resolved but easy enough to see. M70 is similar to M69, a round fuzz-spot that’s even smaller.
Bright round core, but no hint of resolution at all. M54, the third sister, is much like Ms 69 and 70. More than anything it
looks like a small galaxy in the SCT:
bright stellar core surrounded by round haze.
I couldn’t resist any longer. Over to
the east for what we called “The Great Andromeda Nebula” when I was a kid.
This huge galaxy, M31, stretches all
across the field of the Tachyons. Satellite galaxy M110, which is normally a little subdued, is very bright. M32, the other, closer-in companion, is
both smaller and brighter, appearing almost stellar. At least one of M31’s dark
lanes is visible in the rapidly degrading sky. I even seem to pick out a little
detail near the galaxy’s nucleus. The 3-D effect is pronounced here, if a little
weird. To me, the galaxy seems to float in
front of the field stars.
M55, east of Sagittarius’ teapot asterism, is a globular I haven’t visited in
a while. Must not have, anyway, because I was just floored at how big and
prominent this thing was in the Tachyon binoculars. Not resolved, but looked
like it wanted to. I convince myself
I see a few of its outer suns wink in and out of view occasionally.
M25 is just right: big enough to stand
out in the binoculars and too big for the C8. Staring at it, what at first
looks like an egg-shaped group of stars begins to arrange itself into a
miniature of Hercules with a small “keystone.”
The Double Cluster looks good in a telescope, but even in a rich field
telescope it doesn’t look this good.
It’s all there, with the clusters surrounded by copious space. The sense
of depth is almost overwhelming. The words that come to mind? “The stars like grains
of sand.”
Back east before the haze moving in
erases the fall constellations. M33
is very good indeed in the 25x100s, if a little dimmer than it would otherwise
be due to the haze. At first it’s just a milky oval with a brighter center
floating among the stars, but a little looking and I begin to see its famous
spiral pattern.
NGC 457. The E.T. Cluster is still in the clear, and this old friend is simply
outstanding in giant binoculars. Cute little devil, surprisingly small, but set
off by a very rich field as he waves at me across the dark light years.
 |
| Hows about a FLIRTINI, sugar? |
The Pac Man Nebula, NGC 281, is fairly easy to see in the
Tachyons. But only fairly. It’s really not that obvious in the C8 either on
this night. I only occasionally think I see a sign of the Pac Man mouth; mostly
it’s just an ill-defined roundish smudge.
The Muscle Man Cluster, Stock 2, is not one I look at often,
and, as is often the case with open clusters, my reaction on getting it in the
field of the binoculars was, “Huh, don’t look like no muscleman to me!” And just as typically, suddenly the little man with his upraised arms became
obvious. At 60’ across this is definitely a binocular object and was well
framed in the Tachyons.
With M57 well placed, I thought I’d check to see if I could make it out
at 25x. Yep, it’s there, looking more like a fuzzy b-b than a ring.
M13 is up next. How is it? Alright, but it’s tight and not resolved. Bright,
of course. M92 is about the same, just smaller and dimmer. Should have checked
in on the looser M5, but he is gone now.
M56 is high in the sky, but I was able to get this subdued and often ignored
globular in the field without strain with the EZ Binoc Mount. Obvious if not
overly impressive. Mostly a round smudge with a couple of stars suspected.
Albireo, the Cub Scout Double is wonderful in the Tachyons, with its blue and
gold components well-separated at 25x. Should have gone from here to the Veil
Nebula, but I FORGOT. Dangit.
The final object was M45, the Pleiades. The Daughters of
Atlas were just barely high enough to bother with. Beautiful despite passing
haze. Too many blue diamonds to count. Occasionally I think I see a hint of the
Merope Nebula, but it is really like
“baby’s breath on a mirror” tonight.
You read
about Friday night, night two of The Herschel Project Phase II, last week. Despite
the fun I’d had with ‘em Thursday evening, I didn’t use the Tachyons Friday. I
didn’t plan on getting them out of their case on Saturday, either. That night was
to be more Herschel sketching since I hadn’t been able to do as much of that as
I’d hoped Friday.
On our way
down to breakfast Saturday morning, though, the completely overcast sky hinted that
might not happen. What was on The Weather Channel was, as usual, a little
ambiguous—“chance of showers, scattered thunderstorms,” but the forecast was
looking worse than it had. Originally, Saturday was supposed to have been the
best night of our four night run. Looked
to me like a little sucker hole cruising with the Zhumells might be it, but
that would be OK.
 |
| Cedar Key main drag. |
After
breakfast, where I stayed away from the enormous waffles, it was time for the
day’s road trip. Saturday is always Duma
Key Day for me and D. Duma Key? That’s just what Dorothy and I call nearby
Cedar Key, a pretty little island fishing village chock full of cool bars and
shops. It ain’t scary like the setting of Stephen King’s novel—well, it might
get a little scary after dark at The
Black Dog when the Flirtinis begin
to flow. What it most assuredly is is one of the Florida west coast’s forgotten
jewels.
It was
lunchtime when we got to Cedar Key, so we stopped for a bite. One of our
favorites in the past, The Rusty Rim Café, was sadly out of business, having
been damaged by a fire last spring. I’ve heard it is under repair, but not much
seemed to be going on with the place, and it’s not clear to me it will ever be
back in its original form. It’s a good spot, though, and I am sure it will return
as something someday.
Our venue of choice this time was The Steamer, which serves what Miss D. believes to be the best crab bisque in the whole, wide world. I ordered a bowl and now agree. I also had the appetizer portion of fried shrimp, though I really didn’t need it after the rich bisque. Especially since the shrimp were monster-sized—“jumbo shrimp” ain’t always an oxymoron, campers.
Our venue of choice this time was The Steamer, which serves what Miss D. believes to be the best crab bisque in the whole, wide world. I ordered a bowl and now agree. I also had the appetizer portion of fried shrimp, though I really didn’t need it after the rich bisque. Especially since the shrimp were monster-sized—“jumbo shrimp” ain’t always an oxymoron, campers.
After lunch
we made our customary tour of the shops. Unk looked at plenty of t-shirts and
coffee mugs, but I really have a surfeit of both. I confined my buying to a
Cedar Key shotglass and a Cedar Key beer cozy. Might as well get stuff I can
USE, after all. Shopping done, it was back to Chiefland to relax and more of keep watching the skies.
 |
| Rut-roh, Raggy. |
The pea-picking
clouds came and went and I thought there was a chance they might do what they’d
done on Wednesday and dissipate after sundown. By 9 p.m., however, they were showing
no inclination to do that. Heck, they seemed to be getting thicker. I hung out
with my pals on the field and hoped for better, but our hopes were fleeting.
Then, about 9:30, I noticed a substantial sucker hole had opened up to the south-southwest. I hurried over to my setup and got the Tachyons on their mount. The sky had looked so poor at sundown that I’d left them in their case and the C8 under her Desert Storm cover. What did I see? Brief glimpses of M8, M16, M17, and a few of the area’s impressive open clusters. When the clouds closed back in, I moved east, which wasn’t much better. I was amazed, however, that the binoculars showed the core of M31 through a fairly thick haze layer. And that was it, the last thing I saw Saturday evening. The sky then well and truly closed down with a nearly audible thud.
Then, about 9:30, I noticed a substantial sucker hole had opened up to the south-southwest. I hurried over to my setup and got the Tachyons on their mount. The sky had looked so poor at sundown that I’d left them in their case and the C8 under her Desert Storm cover. What did I see? Brief glimpses of M8, M16, M17, and a few of the area’s impressive open clusters. When the clouds closed back in, I moved east, which wasn’t much better. I was amazed, however, that the binoculars showed the core of M31 through a fairly thick haze layer. And that was it, the last thing I saw Saturday evening. The sky then well and truly closed down with a nearly audible thud.
But that, I
reckoned, was OK. There was that looming drive home to The Swamp in the
morning. I am always torn on CAV Saturday nights. Do I try to squeeze one last
photon out of the sky or do I get some rest so I don’t feel like a zombie
for the drive back west on I-10? There wasn’t much of a decision to be made
this time, since it was apparent the sky wouldn’t get much better for a long
while. Back to the Day’s Inn for a couple of brewskies, a little cable TV, and
a little reading of the often silly, sometimes informative, and always fun give
and take on the Cloudy Nights BBS.
I hated to
go to sleep on this last night of our vacation, but Unk’s eyes soon shut and soon
it was Sunday morning and The End for another Chiefland romp. Packed the 4Runner, Miss Van
Pelt, and headed out to the site for the inevitable gear tear-down and goodbye-saying.
It had been a good one. Maybe one of the best. Saw plenty Wednesday and
Thursday and even a little Friday and Saturday. Got some Herschel Project work
done. Most of all, I relaxed and had a good time with Dorothy. As always, “Just
want to come back soon,” muchachos.
Next Time: Uncle Rod and Uncle Al…
Sunday, September 23, 2012
The Herschel Project Phase II Nights 1 and 2
The title
for this one could actually have been “Chiefland Redux, Redux, Redux” because
what I did Down Chiefland Way and the reasons I did what I did were much like the
way things were in this edition of the
Little Old Blog from Chaos Manor South. What’s that, muchachos? I ain’t making
much sense this Sunday morning? I reckon you are used to that, and I also
reckon we should rewind and start this story at its beginning.
A few months
back Miss D. mentioned we should plan some kind of a trip for our anniversary,
coming up in September, so we tossed around a few ideas. Maybe duplicate our
honeymoon, where we drove up the east coast to Virginia (which is appropriately
for lovers). But this didn’t seem to be the year for a long road trip. Then,
Miss Dorothy suggested we combine a Chiefland Astronomy Village (CAV) observing
run with said anniversary trip. We’d observe the deep sky and also spend some
time visiting the attractions of Florida’s Nature Coast. I suppose it’s
possible somebody, somewhere has a wife more wonderful than mine, but I DON’T THINK SO.
As our
departure date, 12 September, approached, I started making big plans. This
would be the perfect time to begin The
Herschel Project Phase II. As y’all know, I have finished observing all the
H-objects, but that doesn’t mean The Project is over. I still need to do some
nice DSLR images of the best of the best, make plenty of sketches, and use the
Mallincam Xtreme video camera to re-shoot quite a few of the aitches I captured
with my old black and white Stellacam.
I decided I’d
tackle the first two tasks this trip, imaging with my Canon digital single lens
reflex and doing some sketching. What would I do the picture taking with? My
standard astrophotography rig, my Celestron Ultima C8, Celeste, and her Atlas
(EQ-6) mount. Sketching? I’d do that with the C8 as well. After all these years
as a C8 owner, I am still a big fan and one of my missions is to show folks
just how deep this “small” and inexpensive telescope can go.
I was all
set then? I thought I was, but then a couple of things changed. The first
change was in the weather. As usual, the closer the trip got the worse the
forecasts became. The 10-day for Chiefland started out impressively clear, but
when we got within five days it began to go south with a lot of “partly to
mostly cloudy.” That was not enough to make Unk change his observing plans,
though. What was enough to do that was that I had to make a technical support
visit to a ship in New Orleans the Tuesday before our departure.
By the time
I got home from NOLA Tuesday evening I was bushed. Somehow, I persevered,
getting all the gear packed in the 4Runner. As I was finishing up, it hit me:
“Rod, you are way too worn-out to spend hours messing with a DSLR.” Miss
Dorothy encouraged me to simplify, too. Why not have a nice, relaxing visit down
to the CAV now that the Big Enchilada was done? That sounded good to me, but I
hedged my bets, packing the Canon Rebel in the 4Runner anyway.
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| Florida Welcome station near Pensacola |
The more I
thought about it, the more visual observing with a little sketching thrown in
seemed the way to go. Which would make this run very much like the January 2010
“Chiefland Redux, Redux” trip. My condition this time was not as dire as then,
when I was recovering from (minor) skin cancer surgery, but it was close enough.
That trip to New Orleans coming not long after a sea trial onboard an
amphibious assault ship had been enough to get me down, way down. I have
finally had to admit I just can’t shrug off these things like I could when I
was 30.
In addition
to dropping back to “jus’ lookin’ with Celeste,” there would be another
similarity between the two CAV visits. In January 2010 I was all het-up to
check out the CG5 mount’s new firmware for its NexStar hand control. This time
I’d have the new (still beta) software for the Atlas’ GEM’s SynScan HC. Seems
as Synta (who owns Celestron) is finally working to make the feature set of the
SynScan more like that of the NexStar. The beta firmware adds an AllStar polar
alignment routine (called “Polar Realign” for the SynScan) and several other
tweaks.
In case the
skies degenerated completely to sucker holes, I thought it would be cool to
have something along to allow me to cruise the deep sky without worrying about
mount alignments and go-to computers. Could have been the StarBlast, but I was
ready to finally get out with my “new” 25x100 Zhumell binoculars and the EZ
Binoc mount Dorothy and I built for them. What with the weather and my Herschel
obsession over the last year, those giant binoculars had done nothing but sit in
their case.
It was nice to have Miss D. along for this CAV venture—she missed my July expedition—and to be back to our usual
routine. Bright and early—but not too early—Wednesday we got up, packed our
suitcases, and made it out the door just a little past 8. Didn’t want to leave
too early, since check-in time at our nominal Chiefland camping ground, The
Day’s Inn, is now 3 p.m., engendered, I
suppose, by the motel’s need to cut back on housekeeping staff in these
economic hard times.
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| Lovebug season. |
Made our
customary stop at the Florida Welcome Center outside Pensacola, and, as I was
browsing the racks of tourist brochures while waiting for Miss Dorothy, it came
to me that it was a dern good thing I had decided not to do any DSLRing. I
couldn’t have done any if’n I’d a-wanted to. While I had thrown the Canon in
the truck, I forgot the case with the
guide camera, my Orion StarShoot, in it. Oh, well, I reckoned the astro-gods
were just underlining that I needed to take it easy this time.
The trip down
was absolutely uneventful, with my only comment being that it sure went faster
with Dorothy at my side than it had when I was all by my lonesome back in
July. It wasn’t long before we were exiting I-10, stopping at our usual Sunoco
station for gas and snacks (Jack Link Sasquatch Big Stick for Unk, natch), and getting on the Florida – Georgia Parkway, Highway
19, the gateway to The Nature Coast and the Chiefland Astronomy Village.
In addition
to Miss D’s company, there was another nice change. Instead of heading into
towering clouds as we drove south, we appeared to be leaving them behind. I
wasn’t sure how much observing I’d get in Wednesday night, but it sure looked
like I’d get some, and there wasn’t much doubt we’d at least be able to set up
the gear, unlike the last time Dorothy was with me.
We arrived at the Day’s Inn just after three and checked in. Dorothy and I were back in our usual first floor poolside room, and it and everything else was just the same as always: clean, not fancy, but sufficient and mucho bettero than a tent. What next? Sticking to The Plan, we headed for the CAV. It was sprinkling in-town, but it looked to us as if the shower was of the very local type. To the south we were seeing plenty of blue sky.
And so it
was. It was not raining and had not rained at the CAV. Like the motel, the
astronomy village was Just the Same, just the way I like it. The field had been
freshly cut and the air was delicious. Even better, it was obvious I would not
be on the field alone on this night. Our friends John and Bobbie were setting
up their scope, and the trailers of several of our other buddies were on the
field. It sure would be nice to have some company Wednesday evening.
Set up went
purty easy. Having one other person help makes getting the EZ up canopy (actually I use a
Coleman these days) EZ-er. Scope?
Celeste is nothing, but there is no denying the Atlas mount’s head is a handful
at a bit over 40 pounds. Nevertheless, it was considerably easier to get on the
tripod than my fork mount NexStar 11, Big Bertha, is. The binoculars? I
unpacked the EZ Binoc mount, but figured I would leave the glasses in their
case till Thursday night. Tonight would be all Celeste, to include a full
check-out of her “new” hand control.
Worked up a
bit of a sweat, but not too bad. A breeze was blowing and the mercury hadn’t
climbed past the upper 80s. E’en so, it was nice to get back in the 4Runner,
crank up the A/C, and head to Wal-Mart to execute Part Three of The Plan: stock
up on supplies we hadn’t brought with us. That included the usual items:
MONSTER ENERGY DRINKS—natch—Jack Links (their beef sticks since the Flaming
Buffalo Chicken Nuggets seem to have disappeared), bottled water, Kolorado
Kool-aid for after run libations, and some granola bars for the field for comparatively
healthy late night snacking. Before leaving, I snagged yet another Star Wars t-shirt to add to my wardrobe
of observing field wear.
After
shopping, it was time for a bite to eat, since the clock was saying it was now past
five. With Wally-World’s in-store Macdonald’s gone (looks like they may be in
the process of building a new fast food stand), we headed for the Taco Bell
next to the Day’s Inn. Against my better judgment I got the Dorito Taco Big Box. I simply could not
resist, y’all. Slathered everything in the Taco Bell Hot Sauce I favor, gobbled
it all up, and we headed back to the motel.
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| And the clouds scurried off to the west. |
After
allocating our purchases to the room or the truck depending on whether or not they
needed to go to the field right away, and having a quick peek at the sky’s
layout for the night on the laptop with Stellarium,
it was getting on to seven and I needed to high-tail it to the observing field.
Yeah, the scope was set up, but I still had to get the laptop going. Even
though I did not plan to operate the mount with the computer on this night, I
would still need it to run SkyTools 3 so I’d have a list of objects to
work.
Out at the
site, I scrambled around getting everything just so before taking a break just
after sunset and turning a weather eye on the sky. Not bad. Why, not bad at all. The clouds I’d hoped were just
afternoon clouds had turned out to be just that, and were drifting west toward
the Gulf of Mexico. Looked like it was going to be a nice night and maybe even a
long night. Relatively speaking, anyway. In mid September it wouldn’t get good
and dark at the CAV till after 9 p.m.
All that
remained to do was get my power squared away. There’s AC on the field, and that
runs the laptop, the dew heaters (via a little 12vdc power supply Unk has had
for years), and normally the telescope/mount. I’d intended to power the Atlas with
AC, anyway. It’s only been the last couple of years that I’ve begun running the
scopes on mains current at CAV, and since I had not had the Atlas down to Chiefland
since '08, I had no AC supply for the big dog.
I couldn’t
find a wall-wart around the Old Manse with the current-handling capacity of Orion’s
Atlas power supply, so I figured I’d better just order their (fairly reasonably
priced) unit. That wasn’t all I ordered. Our Cupertino friends had been
advertising a larger accessory tray for the Atlas tripod. I don’t put eyepieces
on an eyepiece tray, but I do find a big one helpful for holding the dew heater
power supply, a surge suppressor, a can of Monster Energy Drink, and other
stuff. So I ordered that too.
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| The Synscan HC looks like a NexStar, but ain't quite that. |
In just a
week or so, a box from Orion was on the front porch. I was suspicious, however.
Looked too flat for a power supply wall-wart to be in it. Indeed there was
none. There was a note on the
shipping list that said the wall-wart would ship on that very day. Which meant
it would not arrive till the Friday after we left for Chiefland.
Oh, well.
I’d power the Atlas with a jump start battery. No big deal. HOWSOMEEVER…as a
regular customer, I notice that a lot of Orion’s products seem backordered these
days. And I am hearing complaints about that from lots of folks. Hope we are
not going back to a time like the early 90s when you couldn’t order a dern
Kellner eyepiece from Orion without it being on backorder. Given that Orion charges premium prices for almost everything they sell, if they can't offer speedy delivery I believe I'll start looking for someone else (like the erstwhile B&H Photo) who sells similar SkyWatcher stuff.
How about
the tray? Works good and is, I guess, worth its somewhat exorbitant price. I was surprised, however, to find that, rather
than replacing the Atlas tripod’s normal accessory tray, it bolts onto it (they tell you that on the Orion web page, but I reckon I missed it).
Not that that makes a big difference, I suppose. Just a little strange. I
guess the tray would have had to be heavier and thicker to replace the
original. At any rate, it did the job I wanted it to do, providing a nice large
surface for my assorted at-the-scope stuff.
With the
bright stars winking on, it was time for your old Unk to get on the stick.
While I planned to use the hand control’s new AllStar style polar alignment, I
wanted to be in the neighborhood of the pole to begin with to make tweaking with
the HC as quick as possible. Before starting the Polar Realign business, I’d do
a normal polar borescope alignment.
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| The vaunted Happy Hand Grenade. |
Alrighty,
then. Go-to alignment next. Let’s see, star one…howsabout Alpheratz? Turned the
mount back on, re-entered all the setup info, and began the three-star
alignment. Finally found my star of choice in the list, centered Alpheratz up,
and told the Atlas to go to Star Two. That was where things got different. I thought Alderamin might be a good
#2, and figured I’d have to scroll through a long list to find it. Nope. It was
there, but was one of only two choices. In the past, you had to make the decisions
on the best alignment stars yourself, unlike the NexStar HCs, which only present
good choices. Apparently the SynScan controller is now doing the same thing,
filtering stars by their ability to produce a good alignment. Anyhoo, accepted
the HC’s first pick for the third star, Arcturus, and I was done.
The question
then became “How well done?” In the past, allowing the HC to choose its own
alignment stars has resulted in very poor alignments. Not this time. Everything
I requested all night long was somewhere in the field of the 13mm Ethos and
often in the 8mm at f/10. Yes, those are ultra wide field eyepieces, but go-to
quality was good enough that I suspected most if not all my targets would have
been on the small chip of my Mallincam Xtreme.
Which brings
us to the eyepieces I’d use on this night. I love my big 8 and 13 Ethoses, but
I also wanted to give my el cheapo 16mm Zhumell (also sold by TMB Optics) 100-degree job a try. All these
eyepieces would ride in a very special star diagonal, my Denkmeier Power Switch with Filter Switch. That
rig allows me to instantly switch the
C8 between f/10, f/20, and f/6.6 AND…it lets me put either one of two filters
into the light path. Having the Denk’s filters, Barlow, and reducer available
at the flick of a switch means I do a lot more experimenting with various
magnifications and filters than I normally would.
Before doing
any deep sky cruising, I wanted to try the automated polar alignment routine.
Since I’d experimented with AllStar a time or two, I knew how the SynScan’s Polar Realign should
work. Pick a star from a list, usually one to the south and near the
intersection of the Celestial Equator and the Local Meridian. Slew to it. Mash
a button and the scope slews off it. Adjust the mount via its altitude and
azimuth adjusters till the star is centered and you are done.
One of the
stars the Atlas chose was Antares, which was reasonably well placed, so I OKed it. As above, the scope slewed away after I’d centered it. The star landed not
too far from the center of my Orion 12mm reticle eyepiece when the slew
stopped, which, I thought, indicated the polar scope did a pretty good job. Re-centered
with the alt/az bolts, and, as instructed, went on to a new 3-star go-to align
using the original three stars. When I was done, the HC indicated via a
read-out of “Mel” and “Maz” that I was about 15-minutes from the NCP.
I could have
done another Polar Realign followed by another 3-star to dial the pole in
closer, but I’d accomplished what I wanted—I’d proved to myself that the new
procedure at least seems to work. It’s
hard to tell just observing visually, but the quality of my go-tos and lack of egregious
declination drift suggested Polar Realign is ready for prime time.
Mount alignments done,
it was now approaching 21:30 and good and dark and time to have some fun. I did
a few spurious go-tos to check accuracy, which resulted in M13 in the west, M22
in the south, and M82 in the north all being easily in the field of the 16mm Z.
I stopped at M13 for a while to give the 16mm a good try-out. A globular’s
hordes of tiny stars are a challenge for any wide-field eyepiece, but the 16 Z acquitted
itself well. Especially at f/10, the stars were decent almost to the field
edge. No, they were not as good at f/6.6, but the Denkmeier reducer does not claim
to be a field flattener. Final verdict? The eyepiece produced acceptable
views, was very useable, and didn’t break the bank.
After that?
I couldn’t resist hanging out down south for a while, visiting the sinking
faves of summer: M8, M17, M16, M22, M11, and all the rest. The night’s skies
had started out a little iffy, but were now fairly cooking. The Milky Way’s “steam” was boiling out of the teapot’s
spout. Frankly, I wished I’d gone ahead and set up the 25x100 binocs, but that
would wait for Thursday night.
Now the time
had come to get back on the Herschel bandwagon. I started out easy with M110,
which is indeed a Herschel, sketching this elliptical companion of M31. How do
I sketch? I don’t claim to be the world’s gift to art, but I do have a system
down. I draw in a sketch diary, a spiral bound notebook of good drawing paper
easily available in art supply stores or even drug stores. I draw with a
variety of pencils, mostly a medium hb. A Sharpie-type marker does the stars.
How do I see what I am sketching? I use a gooseneck red LED light I got from
Astro Gizmos a while back. This is clamped to the Rubbermaid Storage Clipboard that
supports the sketch diary.
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| My decades old Rubbermaid storage clipboard. |
I start with the Sharpie, plotting the field stars with larger dots for
brighter ones, natch. I don’t necessarily draw every star, but I do enough to allow me to accurately place the target
object in the field among them. Stars done, I pick up the pencil if I am doing
a galaxy or nebula, or continue with the sharpie for a glob or open cluster. I
certainly don’t draw every star in a globular or even in a rich open cluster,
just enough to give the general impression. I will usually go back to a pencil,
a hard one, for dimmer globular stars. I indicate nebulosity in all objects
both by sketching it in and by drawing outlines. I also make notes about the
object on the paper. The goal is to have enough data to be able to come back
and make a finished sketch later.
I complete
my drawings by daylight, trying to get to them while I still have a good memory
of the objects’ appearances, maybe within a week of the observing run. I
indicate stars with small dots and do nebulosity with soft pencils, charcoal, an art gum
eraser, and blending “stumps.” I strive to render the details I saw and only the
details I saw, not those I remember from images.
When my
sketch is as good as I can get it, I scan it into Adobe Photoshop, render the stars in their proper size/brightness with the airbrush tool, and do any needed touchups to nebulosity using a
variety of the program’s drawing and painting tools. When I am finished, I
reverse the picture’s colors, making it a negative image so I have nice white
stars on a black background.
So what did
I sketch? Enough objects but not too many. Didn’t want to burn out on the first
night, but I did want to cover some ground, and ended up doing fifteen
Herschels. Let me tell y’all, it’s a lot more work to draw fifteen aitches than
it is to image fifteen with the Mallincam!
When I
finished my sketching, I wasn’t even close to being ready to call it a night. I
zipped all over the sky doing tons of pretty stuff. What were some of the
standouts? One was NGC 7331, The Deerlick Galaxy. It had been a long time since
I’d seen it look as good in a mere 8-inch. Not only was its sweeping spiral arm
there, I kept staring and was able to pick out a couple of the “deer,” the
little NGC galaxies clustered around big mama—a good job for a C8. Another
winner was M15. I never tire of looking at its spray of miniscule stars and its
tiny, condensed core. Even at the relatively low power of the 16mm eyepiece
at f/6.6 a goodly number of the cluster’s stars were resolved.
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| The empty streets of Chiefland in the wee hours. |
So it went
for the next few hours. At about 1 a.m., I found myself a little weary—though
not as weary as I thought I would be by that time. I hopped over to the
clubhouse, got my second Monster of the evening out of the fridge, chugged it
down, and was ready to go—heck, raring to go—again. Still, by the time 2:30 in
the freaking morning came around, the Day’s Inn was sounding better and better.
I threw the Big Switch, put the computer in its bag, and headed back to town.
No shame in that. In addition to sketching fifteen objects, I'd visually observed
at least fifty more, though some only briefly while checking the Atlas’ go-to
accuracy.
Back at the
motel not much was going on. Miss Dorothy, who had elected to hang out in the
room Wednesday night, was snoozing and the cable TV yielded nothing but boring foolishness
like Pawn Stars. Weren’t even showing
the dern UFO Hunters. I settled for
Adam Richman stuffing his gullet with barbeque sandwiches in the ongoing battle
of Man vs. Food. There was that brand
new bottle of Rebel Yell, of course. A Shot or two of that, a little browsing
of the Cloudy Nights bulletin boards to see what was up in that other battle, Man vs. Meade, and the Rodster was sawing logs.
Friday morning
brought a fresh batch of clouds and another Day’s Inn motel breakfast. “Hey,
wait a minute, Unk. FRIDAY? What happened to cotton-picking Thursday?” You will
hear all about Thursday next week. That was the night I let the Zhumell
binoculars loose on the summer Milky Way, and it was incredible, but I didn’t do a lick of Herschel work, and The
Herschel Project is what this entry is ostensibly about, y’all.
I trotted
down to the lobby with Miss D., resolving to stay on the healthy side before my
digestion began protesting all the junky road food I’d consumed over the past
couple of days. Bowl of Frosted Flakes (née
Sugar Frosted Flakes). Half a plain bagel. Orange juice. I did have an ulterior
motive. I was saving room for lunch at my fave Chiefland eatery, Bar-B-Q
Bill’s.
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| The gang down at Manatee Springs. |
Loved the
park, but I was more than ready for Bill’s when lunchtime came. I won’t belabor
the subject; I’ve raved often enough about what I consider the best barbeque
joint in the southland. I will just say “good as ever.” Or maybe even “better
than ever.” D. and I ordered the same thing, the storied lunch special: pork (beef if you prefer), fries, beans,
garlic bread, salad bar. All for a crazy-small amount of bucks. As always, the
old-fashioned salad bar was a big hit with me, though I tried to go easy on it so
as to leave room for all that barbeque slathered with Bill’s insane spicy
sauce.
At 7 p.m. it
was time to return to the fabled Billy Dodd Memorial Observing Field. Not that
I had high hopes. As the afternoon had grown old, the clouds had multiplied and
this time they were not drifting off as sunset came and went. Sucker holes and
haze and nothing but. I contented myself with messing with the SynScan
firmware, which I found I could confusticate if I tried.
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| The cool pool. |
I redid the Realign
on Antares to make sure the routine wasn’t busted and then did some playing
around with alignment star choices. While the SynScan is well on its way to
providing good stars automatically, it can still pick baduns. Accepting Arcturus
as my first star resulted in the HC offering Vega, which was nearly overhead
and close to the Local Meridian, as an option for star number 3. Permitting
that led to all targets being away from the center of the 16mm Zhumell’s field
and some in the northeast area of the sky being out or nearly out of its field.
The amazing thing was that even given the poor choice of Vega as the cone-alignment
star, most objects were at least in the field.
After I was
done messing around, I performed a 3-star alignment one last time, on a whim using
Alkaid as the number three star rather than Arcturus, which resulted in the
best alignment of the trip, probably because it was, unlike Wednesday night’s
Cone Star, within the suggested 30 – 70-degree (north or south) declination
range. Everything, every single object from horizon to horizon, was dead center in the eyepiece without
fail.
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| And the clouds were back on Friday. |
So, go-to
was real good. What did I look at? I did five more Herschel sketches, but
getting even that many took most of the night, since I had to do a lot of
waiting for clouds to pass. When I couldn’t get at a Herschel, I looked at
pretty stuff or cool stuff or memorable stuff. Best sight of the evening? M31
riding high as seen in my old 35mm Panoptic eyepiece. The galaxy’s nucleus was
a tiny burning pinpoint, there was a dust lane on view despite the not so hot
conditions, and M32 and M110 were crazy bright.
In between
looking, I spent a lot of time hanging out with my Chiefland buddies. It was
almost like we had a real star party going on, with the crowd having grown to at
least ten observers by Friday night. In addition to shooting the breeze, we did
plenty of checking of the Clear Sky Clock and the Weather Channel thanks to the
wireless Internet on the field, trying to determine what Urania planned to do
with her sky.
What we
could see above us and what was on the I-net seemed to suggest the clouds might scud off after midnight. How
long after midnight? That was hard to say and, dadgum it, Unk was feeling tired
again. Having to wait for long stretches between sucker holes was getting me down.
At 12:30 I disgustedly threw in the towel and threw that accursed Big Switch. I
knew good and well the sky would probably turn beautiful ten minutes after I
left, but it wouldn’t be the first time that’s
happened.Back at the
motel it was a traditional denouement with the Ghost Adventures crew of Zak, Aaron, and Nick hanging out at a
scary old abandoned insane asylum. That, a little Yell, a little web surfing,
and I wound it down. It seemed odd not to be signing off with, “Another 100
Herschels done,” but I’d gotten some Project work accomplished to the tune of about 20 sketches between Wednesday and Friday night, and seen a few
cool things despite the fricking-fracking weather. Most of all, I’d had fun, which, believe it or not, muchachos, is still
the most important thing for me in amateur astronomy.
Nota Bene: If you'd like to see more pictures of our CAV trip, you will find plenty on Unk's Facebook page. Not a FB friend of mine? Like good, old George Takei I have never been known to turn down a friend request. Unk needs all the friends he can get!
Next Time:
Night of the Giants...
