Sunday, April 14, 2013
The Herschel Project Nights 39 and 40
Did not look
good, muchachos, did not look good at all.
On the Wednesday afternoon before the
2013 Chiefland Spring Picnic, the weather was steadily going from bad to
worse to horrible. By late afternoon, I still hadn’t been able to load up the
4Runner in advance of our Thursday morning departure for the Chiefland Astronomy Village. Rain. More
rain. Still more rain. Then came the winds.
Gusts over 60mph. That ill-fated cruise ship, Carnival’s Triumph, broke free of her moorings at the yard here where she’s
tied up, resulting in the tragic death of one worker. It was like hurricane season
before hurricane season.
I could have
waited till Thursday morning to pack—that wasn’t a big deal. It’s nice to have
the truck, Miss Lucille Van Pelt, ready to roll on star party morning, but it’s not a requirement. What
was bothering me was the question of whether we should go at all, whether we’d be wasting our time. The storm would be moving
east, straight toward Florida and the Chiefland Astronomy Village. Nevertheless,
Miss Dorothy and I decided we’d go and go Thursday no matter what the weather. We’d
at least get the trip, if not the field set up, done that day.
We’d have
three days down south in Florida, so I thought chances were good we’d get some hours of observing before it was time to go
home. The forecasts I saw indicated there was just about zero chance of us
seeing a thing on Thursday, but Chiefland’s position, right where fronts off
the Atlantic and the Gulf battle it out, is one where accurate weather
prediction is difficult. Could be crystal clear Thursday evening.
In the wake
of the big blow, I was able to get the 4Runner loaded late
Wednesday, so Thursday morning was effortless. Wasn’t even raining. Oh, it was
cloudy, but the worst appeared to be over—for the Northern Gulf Coast, anyhow.
Thursday night in Chiefland was still predicted to bring a 90% chance of rain. Friday
and Saturday were ambiguous: “partly
cloudy,” “some clouds,” “passing clouds.”
Whatever. We stuck to The Plan: quick stop at McDonald's for breakfast (which consisted of a fried chicken biscuit for moi, natch) and
then I-10 for five-and-a-half hours. Dorothy and I have found if we do
Mickey D’s before the Interstate, we’re able to skip lunch and push on to
Chiefland with only bathroom breaks and one stop for gasoline. That’s just what
we did.
The stretch
from Mobile to Tallahassee is boring, but it ain’t as boring as the Mobile –
Montgomery run. And, unlike in the old days, I had Miss D. at my side to talk
to and Sirius XM satellite radio (“Classic Vinyl” and “Real Jazz” this time) to listen
to. It didn’t seem too long before we were leaving the Interstate just past
Tallahassee for the Florida – Georgia Parkway, Highway 19, the gateway to The
Nature Coast and Chiefland.
I took the
last 100 miles easy. Wasn’t any reason to hurry. It was cloudy when we left Mobile, and it
was cloudy when we stopped at the Sunoco station at the Highway 19 Exit. The
only positive thing was while the sky was completely overcast—I didn’t see
a patch of blue all the way from Mobile—there wasn’t much rain. After fueling
Miss Van Pelt and ourselves on gas station fare—Unk got the new Jack Link’s Sasquatch Big Stick—we headed south on 19 where we did
run through a couple of showers, but that was it. There was no widespread bad
weather far as I could tell.
 |
| Alas, change was afoot at the Days Inn. |
None of this
was wholly unexpected. Ever since the motel’s change of chains from Holiday Inn
Express to Days Inn, there’d been a slow decline. What did surprise us was that
that decline had suddenly become precipitous. Given the lack of familiar faces,
I had to wonder whether the motel had been sold to a new owner. If it has, the
new folks ain’t getting it right. Miss D. and I intend to try Chiefland’s Best
Western next time. Whoever’s in charge of the Days Inn apparently doesn’t
understand that lack of cleanliness, cold coffee, and a breakfast that looks
like it came straight out of a vending machine does not make for repeat
business—assuming they care.
We continued
to stick to the vaunted PLAN—well, the backup version, anyhow. Normally, we
check into the motel and immediately make tracks for the CAV observing field
for gear set up. Thursday afternoon at 3:30 it wasn’t raining, but the clouds
had the look of “rain’s on the way,” so we eschewed the field in favor of a
trip to Wally-World, the Chiefland Wal-Mart, for supplies. There, I got the
usual: Jack Links, Monster Energy
Drinks, bottled water, a box of granola bars, and a 12-pack of Kolorado
Kool-Aid for post observing relaxing in the motel in the wee hours.
Didn’t see a
new Star Wars shirt to add to my wardrobe this time, but I did find an
uber-cool Pink Floyd Dark of the Moon
tee. Also picked up a hoodie to wear on the field if it got chilly in the
wee hours. My usual CAV Wally-World nylon jacket got left at the shipyard on my
last day of work before my retirement. Uncle Rod has said goodbye to his engineering career, hung up his hardhat, and took early retirement just a little while ago.
We wandered
around in the store for longer than usual before going back to the motel to
stow our purchases. We’d normally do fast food for supper, but the weather
meant we had plenty of time on our hands this evening and thus another option. Some
time back, I told Miss Dorothy that the next time we were clouded out at CAV
we’d hit Bar B Q Bill’s for steaks and beer instead of barbeque. That’s what we
did, too, heading off to Bill’s about 5 p.m. and ordering ribeyes and baked
potatoes. Yeah, BBQ is the main attraction at Bill’s, but the steaks were some
kind of good and the beer was icy cold. Supper was almost good enough to make me forget the weather.
When we’d
checked in to the motel, we’d noticed there was a new TV set in our room. Now, I’d
a-thought that if they were replacing TVs, they’d be going to widescreen LG jobs. Heck, the La Quinta we stayed in last year in Huntsville had one. Uh-uh.
Instead, it was the smallest and cheapest looking television I’ve seen in a
motel in years. The reception was the pits, too. There wasn’t much on the
limited number of channels, either. There was salvation at hand in the form of
a DVD, though.
When I’d
been inventorying the shelves at Wally-World, I’d come upon a five-buck DVD, a
collection of ten freaking ZOMBIE
MOVIES. Including the original, Night of
the Living Dead, and the classic White
Zombie with Bela Lugosi. What I watched, however, was one called I am Omega, a mash-up of zombies, The Last Man on Earth, and martial arts
chop-sockie. When that was done, I took a tour of the Cloudy Nights bulletin boards,
and before drifting off read a few more pages of Michael Lemonick’s excellent The Georgian Star, which I was rereading for the second time.
Ironically,
despite the decrepit nature of the Days Inn, old Unk had the best night’s rest
he’d got in a motel in a long time. Musta been them brewskies at Bill’s. Anyhoo, despite my heavy snooze, I was suddenly awakened just before
dawn. What woke the Rodster? A
sound…almost like heavy rain… Then came a great big boom of thunder. Unk poked his
head out the door and into a thunderstorm of major proportions. Rut-roh.
Turned on
that tiny TV and dialed up The Weather Channel right quick. They were forecasting
plenty of wet stuff for Friday morning, but were still insisting on “clearing Friday
night.” A look at wunderground.com on the laptop showed they were making the
same prediction. I felt better, but we’d still have to change our plans. We’d
originally thought we’d get out to the CAV first thing and take care of
equipment set up before visiting Fanning Springs State Park, one of our fave local attractions. Uh-uh. The rain was stopping,
but we thought we’d give it more time to move on out and a little while after
that for the sandy soil of the field to soak up the puddles. Mid morning, we
headed back north a few miles to the next little town up the line from Chiefland,
Fanning Springs.
Fanning
Springs State Park is not as large or elaborate as our other local favorite,
Manatee Springs State Park in Chiefland, but it is nice, and it is beautiful in
the spring. The water was high, so we didn’t see much wildlife. Other than some
squirrels and a few minnows, all we spotted was a pretty Brown Water Snake who
played possum as soon as he noticed us. Despite not seeing a mullet, much less
a manatee, we spent a pleasant hour walking around the park and down to the storied
Suwannee River.
Then it was lunchtime,
and when you are in Fanning Springs, you just naturally do the 19/98 grill.
This little place has become a legend among amateur astronomers. It’s small,
but it has a crazy-extensive menu and everything I’ve had there has also been
crazy—crazy good. Like the Buffalo wings I ordered for lunch. Maybe not quite
as spicy as Unk likes ‘em, but that was more than made up for by the freshness
of the chicken. Miss Dorothy loved her chicken salad sandwich and the 7Up in an
old-fashioned bottle. I was tempted by the Nehi Grapes, also in old-timey bottles,
but figgered I’d better stick with 19/98’s wondrous sweet tea.
After lunch,
we pointed Miss Van Pelt to the CAV. It was obvious the rain was over for now.
Onsite, there was a good crowd already, including our old friends Carl, John,
Bobbie, Margie, and Paul. After saying “howdy” to everybody, it was set up
time. One good thing about the clouds:
they moderated the temperature. I was able to unload the scope, Big
Bertha, my NexStar 11 GPS, get her on her tripod, and, with Miss D’s help, get
the Coleman tailgating canopy up without breaking a sweat. I left the tarp
sides off the canopy. With the temperature not predicted to go below 50F, I thought
I’d be happier with better ventilation in the afternoon without the sides. I
did have my Black Cat catalytic heater in case I got chilled ‘round midnight.
How exactly
did I set up the NS11? Reducer-wise? As y’all know, the Mallincam Xtreme is a
fairly long camera, and will hit the base of the NS11 at higher altitudes when the
scope is set up in alt-az mode. You have to use a star diagonal for the Xtreme
to clear the base. That is a problem. How do you use a reducer with a diagonal and
still get a focal ratio of around f/3 – 4, which is perfect for the Mallincam?
You can’t
just screw an f/3.3 reducer onto the rear port of the SCT—it won’t reach focus with
the camera in a star diagonal. What I’d done last time was use a special
adapter from Jim Henson (Scopestuff) that allows you to place the reducer after the diagonal. Unfortunately, that
yields a focal ratio that’s a little high, f/5 – f/6 or so. I had what I
thought was a better idea this time: I’d use an f/6.3 reducer on the scope’s
rear cell, and the camera would have a .5x reducer in its nose. To keep the
reduction around f/3, I’d use a 1.25-inch rather than 2-inch diagonal.
The buzzing
fly in that butter? I soon realized what it was that I’d forgot this time—I almost always forget
something. The .63 reducer, darnit. Oh, well, I’d just have to set up with the
3.3 after the diagonal. I did believe I’d try one variation. What if I used the
.5x reducer on the camera’s 1.25-inch nosepiece in combination with the f/3.3
reducer? I screwed the small lens onto the camera; wouldn’t cost nothing to
try.
Set up
complete, D. and I hung out for a while, with Unk doing quite a bit of shooting
the breeze with his buddies about the latest gear and the latest astro-gossip.
Mid afternoon, we headed back to town. I’d awakened way too early, and if the
Weather Channel were to be believed, clearing might not happen till after 10
p.m., so I’d better get a little shuteye if possible. We also thought we’d do
an early supper in someplace. As the Sun began his descent, 19/98 seemed a long
time ago.
We wanted
“food,” but also “fast,” and wound up as we often do in the Taco Bell. What did
Unk get? The tacos had been kicked up yet another notch. Unk raved about the
Nacho Cheese Doritos Tacos last summer, and
was eager to try the new Cool Ranch Doritos
LOCOS Tacos. How were they? If anything, they were better than the
original, tasty but a little subtler than that slap yo’ mama nacho cheese. Unk
quickly downed one regular taco and one supreme from his Big Box, saving the
enormous burrito for the following day.
I had the
idea I might only be able to doze at best, but I must have been more tired than
I thought, since I almost immediately went from napping to genuine sleeping. It
seemed like just a few minutes had passed before Miss Dorothy was awakening me
at 5:30 p.m. Time to get on the stick. Well, sort of. A look out the door
showed the clouds were as thick as ever. Whatev’. I wanted to do the remaining
set up tasks before dark anyway, cabling up computer and scope, mostly. I hate
doing that after daylight is gone.
Unk did have
one stop to make before the field, Bubbaque’s liquor store next door to their restaurant.
For some unknown reason, there had been a Rebel Yell drought in Alabama for a
while. Not a single bottle in the Green Front store last time I checked. Not
only did Bubbaque’s have Yell, they had the biggest bottle of it this old boy
had ever seen. And they almost gave it away. As I told one of my pals on the
field, the Yell constituted my backup plan for the evening if the clouds didn’t
skedaddle.
But
skedaddle they did; they just took their time about it. We cooled our heels
till after 10 p.m. before it began to clear. Actually, at ten none of us
thought it would clear. With
everybody else stowing scopes and heading for RVs and trailers, Unk decided he
might as well do the same. I tucked Bertha in in her Desert Storm Cover,
disconnected the laptop, and turned Miss Van Pelt for C-land.
Now, most of
y’all are gonna ascribe what came next to Unk’s over-active imagination (at
best), and I agree that was probably it. Probably.
I was almost back to Highway 19 and wasn’t paying a bit of attention to the
sky. It was cloudy, I knew that. Then, a voice seemed to come from the
backseat, a male voice that was an odd admixture of English and German accents:
“Rod, turn your carriage around this instant!” If Unk thought he was half-crazy
then, a moment later he began to consider “full crazy” a possibility. A little
female voice, one I’d heard before, came next:
“Now, Rod, do just as Brother says!”
Were those
the voices of William and Caroline coming in from the Great Beyond where
they’d been watching over this benighted hillbilly astronomer? Was the current
high level of solar activity pulling ‘em in along with the 20-meter DX? Or were
they just a couple of the voices some folks will tell you live in Unk’s head on
a full-time basis? Don’t ask me. All I can say is that when I hit wide Highway 19
and got a good look at the sky, it was obvious it was clearing in a big way.
My initial inclination
was to say the heck with the voices’ urging, whether their source was Sir
William and Caroline Herschel or just them tacos I’d had for supper. I could
turn around and go back to the CAV, but it would surely cloud up again just as soon
as I started setting up the gear. Cable TV and Yell was purty tempting. Will and Lina had
been insistent, though, and who was I to dispute The Discoverer of Uranus and The
First Lady of Astronomy?
Dang good
thing I listened. By the time I was back on the field and had everything hooked
back up, it was crystal clear. Fellow observer Mike Harvey later opined the sky was
better than he’d seen it at Chiefland in the spring in a long, long time, and I
had to agree. Yes, it was a pain getting scope, computer, and camera ready
again in the dark, but it was well worth it. When I finally gave in to exhaustion,
I’d scored well over 50 Herschel Objects.
“Herschel
objects? We thought you was done with them, Unk.” I am…but. Most of the spring
galaxies were imaged with my old Stellacam 2. I got pictures of every one of
them suckers, but the Stellacam was limited to ten second exposures, so most of
the images were pretty noisy. Not only does the Mallincam Xtreme allow me to
expose for as long as I want, it brings color to the table. You’d be surprised
how much color little galaxies show. And how useful that can be. It’s easy to pick tiny ellipticals out of
the star field by their striking golden color. I had originally called the
“after The Project” work, the imaging and sketching, “The Herschel Project
Phase II,” but that seemed kinda awkward and am back to just “The Herschel
Project,” of which this was night 39.
For once,
Bertha aligned without complaint from her or mistakes from me. I started out
with the great spring globular star cluster Messier 3 as a test object; there is
nothing better than a glob for fine tuning focus. Well, I fine tuned focus
after I removed the .5x reducer from the camera. I couldn’t reach focus in that
configuration. Reducer-after-diagonal actually worked pretty well. Yes, my
focal ratio was a little high, but that turned out to be a good thing for many
of the small Herschel galaxies.
After that,
it was M65 and its new supernova, SN2013am.
I didn’t have the camera set up quite right at that point, so the image ain’t
all it coulda been, but the magnitude 16 SN is easily visible in a negative
image. Then it was on to the galaxy fields of Ursa Major. By midnight, I was
really in that blessed groove, knocking off Herschel after Herschel, recording
30-seconds of video of each on my Orion Mini DVR, and moving on to the nextun.
So it went
till about one, when I took a break and strolled over to the Clubhouse to
retrieve a Monster Energy Drink from the refrigerator. Frankly, given the clouds earlier I
was amazed at the condition of the sky. It was very clear. The seeing wasn’t great, and
the stars were sometimes larger than they normally are in the Mallincam, but overall
it was one for the books. Monster downed, it was back to the bridge of my Federation Starship, the U.S.S. Possum
Swamp, for as many more Herschels as I could stand.
When I passed
the “50” mark, which was my goal for this short evening, I still wasn’t tired
and kept on keeping on. It was three in the freaking a.m. before I threw that
accursed Big Switch Friday night, and I could have gone later than that. I did
want to be at least semi-conscious for the picnic part of the Spring Picnic
Saturday afternoon, however, so Big Switch at three, back at motel at 3:30, in
bed shortly after four seemed advisable.
If I’d
wanted to press on, I certainly could have; the sky was, if anything, better at
three than it had been at midnight. Oh, well. At the Days Inn, it was a little
Yell, a little Astromart and Cloudy Nights, and a little cable TV. The TV pickings
were awful slim on the few channels I had, so I was off to night-night land at oh-4:30.
Saturday
morning didn’t just dawn, it exploded
with bright blue skies and unseasonably cool temperatures. Unk had intended to
be up for breakfast, but I just couldn’t manage that. I told Miss Dorothy to go
on without me, that I needed at least another hour. After I finally got up,
“breakfasted” on the burrito left over from my Taco Bell Big Box supper the
night before, and finished reviewing my ever-copious email, we were off to
Wally-World to choose our picnic contribution.
Some of the
stuff in Wal-Mart’s deli is actually pretty tasty, including their loaded baked potato potato salad. I
mean, the stuff has bacon in
it, and as you well know there is just no downside to bacon. Potato salad for a
picnic seemed to compute, so we ordered up a few pounds of “regular” and “baked
potato.” I grabbed a pack of AAA batteries to replace the dead ones in my
Astrogizmos red flashlight, and we were back at the motel in two shakes.
We didn’t
stay there long, though. At 12:30, we motored back to the site to get ready for
the picnic, which would begin at two. First thing I did was stow the potato salad in the Clubhouse fridge; I didn’t want to be responsible for ending the
evening’s observing before it began with food poisoning for all and sundry. We
hung out on the field for about an hour, spending some time watching our friend
Paul mount his new Lunt Solar scope before heading over to the new field where
the picnic would be held shortly before two.
It’s no
secret there’s been friction between the two Chiefland groups,
the folks who stick to the “old” Billy Dodd field (The Chiefland Observers), and those who observe from
the “new” field (The Chiefland Star Party Group). Over the last year, I’ve had the
sense that this was thankfully passing, with a new Chiefland era in the offing.
If that is true, and I hope it is, this picnic heralded it. Our group was
welcomed most graciously, and we had
a wonderful time visiting old friends and making new ones in the expansive new
field Clubhouse. There was plenty of food, and it was danged good. Unk couldn’t
choose between “burger” and “hot dog,” so naturally he took one of each.
Dorothy and
I were particularly pleased to be able to spend some time with two old friends
we hadn’t seen in many a Moon, Tom Crowley and Art Russell. I was also (very) briefly introduced to Tom Clark’s successor as owner of the Dodd Field, "Jonesy." If our Chiefland adventures continue, it will be due to his generosity. Unk also
met his Facebook friend and observer extraordinaire, Barbara Stanton. I
like Facebook fine, and have made some good friends there, but nothing beats
what we hams call “an eyeball QSO.”
In short, we
had a wonderful time with food and friends thanks to the current Chiefland honchos Jonesy,
Tom Crowley, and John Novak. As we strolled back to the old field it was Unk’s
hope and belief that we’d seen the start of a new Era of Good Feeling, and that
the old Chiefland comradery is back to stay.
Then ‘twas the
motel again and pre-run napping before heading back out at 6:15 to get ready
for Saturday night’s observing. Actually, I could have waited a while. Unlike
Friday, all I had to do was plug a few cables into the computer, the DVD player
I use as a display, and the Orion DVR and I was ready to rock. If we were allowed to rock, that was. In the
bizarre fashion common for Chiefland’s weather, the blue skies that had hung in
all morning had been replaced by banks of thick clouds as Sundown approached.
I did rock Saturday, though, since, again
in typical CAV fashion, the clouds began to clear out as the Sun set. In fact,
the only thing that hindered me getting started on more Herschels was Big
Bertha, who decided to show me who’s boss once again. Fired her up and launched
NexRemote. Started the GPS alignment.
Once she’d leveled and northed, she was off to the first star, which she said
(in her Microsoft Mary voice via the laptop) was Vega.
That was
unfortunate, since Vega wouldn’t rise for another hour and a half. Hmmm…stopped
Bertha’s slew and scrolled down to another alignment star, Capella. Bertha lit
out for the star, or so she said, but it was obvious she was going to land a
long way from it. I powered her off and rebooted the computer.
With only a
little fumbling around—I forgot to turn on Bertha before I started NexRemote and received an error for
that—I got Miss B. back to the Ready to Begin Alignment point. This time she
chose two good stars, Sirius and Capella, and stopped close to them. Gotos
were great all night long. She didn’t miss a target, and many of the Herschels
were near the center of the screen, so what had been the problem? Don't ask me. Who knows? Bertha has a mind of her own sometimes, and a real personality--though it isn't always a cooperative personality.
I am guessing, her errant ways on this evening could have been due to a bad fix. Bad GPS
fixes aren’t as uncommon as people seem to think these days. I should have checked her
date/time/lat/lon before I shut her down after Vega, but forgot to. Or it could
have been a loose power cable; I did reseat the plug after the power down. Honestly,
it wouldn’t have been a normal CAV run without me and Bertha doing a little fussin’ and feudin’.
After that
it was smooth sailing, campers. Well, more or less. Wind was a problem off and
on all night, and especially toward the end, resulting in off-round stars in
some images—not too bad, though. I popped open a Monster and went to work with
a will. There was no time to lose; those clouds might decide to roll back in at
any moment, and I had set myself a turns-into-a-pumpkin time of midnight. I was
feeling good, but I knew I wouldn’t be feeling good if I didn’t get enough
sleep in preparation for the long drive back to The Swamp.
After
touching up focus on M3, it was Herschels and nothing but Herschels till near
the end of the run. After I passed the 60 mark, I got up, stretched my legs, walked
out onto the field, and had a look out at the sky. I didn’t like what I was
seeing: clouds gathering on the western horizon. Just time enough for a few
purties to end the evening on, I reckoned. Before going back to the bridge, I
walked over to Mike Harvey’s 28-inch mega Dobsonian where I was treated to a mind-blowing
view of The Ghost of Jupiter in a binoviewer. Back with Betsy, we essayed M13,
M92, M51, and a couple of others before the clouds shut us down at about 11:30.
Was I put out to have my run ended prematurely? You know I was, but it was really OK. At least the decision as to when to pull The Big Switch on the last night of a CAV trip had for once been taken out of my hands. I recorded a short Herschel Project Update video in the Clubhouse, which you can watch below, and headed for Miss Van Pelt, who I’d parked out on the access road. At the Days Inn, it wasn’t yet 1 a.m., so even allowing for a spot of Yell and a little Ghost Adventures watching on the mini-TV, I got sufficient shut-eye Saturday night.
Was I put out to have my run ended prematurely? You know I was, but it was really OK. At least the decision as to when to pull The Big Switch on the last night of a CAV trip had for once been taken out of my hands. I recorded a short Herschel Project Update video in the Clubhouse, which you can watch below, and headed for Miss Van Pelt, who I’d parked out on the access road. At the Days Inn, it wasn’t yet 1 a.m., so even allowing for a spot of Yell and a little Ghost Adventures watching on the mini-TV, I got sufficient shut-eye Saturday night.
The last
morning at Chiefland, the "All Good Things” time, I call it, is always a
bummer. After having done the loading/unloading thing with Miss Van Pelt for almost
two years now, we were pretty efficient in getting the gear packed and were
back on the road before 10 a.m. Eastern. That wasn’t the problem--being retired I don't HAVE to be anywhere anymore. Well mostly not.
The problem
was having to leave my CAV friends and those dark CAV skies behind for another
few months. I’d purty much got what I’d come for, over 100 Herschels, but even
that wasn’t enough deep sky for me. Unk is, in fact, already plotting another
Chiefland expedition, and is even considering adding a 4th night back in. Stay
tuned, muchachos.
You can see lots more pictures of our
CAV trip on Unk’s Facebook page. If you are not a friend of ol’ Unk, just ask;
that is all it takes.
Next Time:
More My Favorite Fuzzies…
Comments:
<< Home
Informative and funny report, Uncle Rod.
You are in Chiefland so often, Google Maps has you on their satellite image of the field. I am not joking. I bet that is your red tent.
You are in Chiefland so often, Google Maps has you on their satellite image of the field. I am not joking. I bet that is your red tent.
I know this is not on topic but we all respect your opinions on Cats.
Have you an opinion on Duncan Mask for collimating a wayward Cat?
See: http://www.cloudynights.com/ubbthreads/showflat.php/Cat/0/Number/5346779/page/0/view/collapsed/sb/5/o/all/fpart/1/vc/1
Thanks,
Don
Have you an opinion on Duncan Mask for collimating a wayward Cat?
See: http://www.cloudynights.com/ubbthreads/showflat.php/Cat/0/Number/5346779/page/0/view/collapsed/sb/5/o/all/fpart/1/vc/1
Thanks,
Don
# posted by 
: 4:45 PM
: 4:45 PM
This can work if the pattern is followed carefully. Me? I've been collimating SCTs for so long, I just point at Polaris, eyeball the diffraction rings, tweak, and I am done.
Holy cow! That is us on the field. Red canopy, 4Runner next to it. I can even see that the scope is the C8 on the Atlas we took one time last year! LOL! Thanks!
Hi Rod:
Fun read. Well its all your fault. I'm going to give being the Observing VP for the Rose City Astronomers a run. I hope by doing so I give back to this hobby as you do.
Don't you just hate when something you like (like your motel) goes bad. One thing you'll find in retirement, is that those things that do change seem to have "much better" before:)
Post a Comment
Fun read. Well its all your fault. I'm going to give being the Observing VP for the Rose City Astronomers a run. I hope by doing so I give back to this hobby as you do.
Don't you just hate when something you like (like your motel) goes bad. One thing you'll find in retirement, is that those things that do change seem to have "much better" before:)
<< Home
