Sunday, September 20, 2026
Issue 631: The Good Tasco Redux
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| International Observe the Moon Night with Tiny |
Number three arrived in the spring of 2010, and it came to
me with my sweet little Orange Tube Celestron C90.
The feller I purchased it from, the father of a colleague of Miss Dorothy, was
moving to a new retirement situation and was disposing of other stuff, too,
some of which he passed on to me. In addition to the Celestron, he threw in a handful
of old .965 Japanese Standard eyepieces, an Olympus OM-1 (film) camera, and
a 60mm Tasco refractor.
What did I do with the Tasco? I set it aside and
forgot about it. I mean, what was I supposed to do with the poor little
thing? It did move with us from the old Chaos Manor South downtown to the new
Chaos Manor South in the ‘burbs in 2014, though. It didn’t look like much
of a telescope, but it was a telescope, and your old Uncle would never
send one to the junkyard.
A couple of years after our move, I put the Tasco in the
back of my 4Runner, Miss Van Pelt and there it stayed. Why? I’m not too
clear about that a decade down the line, but I think I’d intended to give it to
a scopeless friend, found a better one for them, and just left the Tasco where
she was. For—ulp—a decade. Until the other day when I was cleaning out
the 4Runner. I’d normally take the Tasco out, vacuum, and then return her to
her accustomed spot. Not this time. I carried the forlorn little tube
inside, inside my radio shack/Workshop of the Telescopes, the Batcave…
Why? I don’t know. Maybe I felt sorry for the
Tasco riding around all over creation and never seeing a photon of starlight.
Maybe I was thinking about my rescue telescope, Tanya,
who turned out to be more capable than she looked. Or maybe I was just bored
and curious. Anyhow, though this appeared to be an inexpensive Tasco, there
was still hope. They imported good telescopes in all price ranges—though,
naturally, you stood a better chance with their more expensive offerings.
You aren’t a refugee from the 60s – 80s, haven’t read the
‘blog article linked above, and don’t know what “Tasco” is? The short and sweet
is that Tasco was an importer who never made a single telescope. They
only imported them, just like the renowned Unitron “United Trading
Company.” While Tasco is still around and importing telescopes, they are
nowhere near as prominent as they once were and have nothing at all to do with
the original Tasco. Last time I checked their website, the new Tasco (now a
part of Bushnell) was concentrating on binoculars and only offering two
telescopes, 70mm and 50mm refractors. Both make the Tasco-branded scopes of the
60s – 80s look like Cadillacs.
Condition-wise? Not great, but not so bad, either.
The objective was OK, if quite (but not horrendously) dirty. Her small finder
was missing and so was her objective cap. There was no diagonal, either; an
el-cheapo .965 12.5mm H (Huygens!) eyepiece was inserted directly
into the drawtube and had served to keep dust out of the OTA interior—about all
it would be good for. It did not appear to be an original Tasco eyepiece. Finally,
the tripod and small fork mount had not come with the telescope, and I presumed
they’d disappeared long ago. But how long ago? How old was this
Tasco, anyway?
I deduced “1980s.” The reason for that was the telescope’s badge read “Made in Taiwan,” which is where the Tascos began coming from in the 80s. While the Taiwanese telescopes were lower in quality than the Japanese ones of the 60s and 70s, that was only by a little and mostly had to do with the use of more plastic. Then came Halley’s Comet, and Tasco was driven to import as many telescopes as possible as cheaply as possible. That was when they turned to mainland China. The initial Chinese scopes were quite a comedown. By the 1990s almost all Tasco’s instruments came from the PRC (apparently some were made in Korea).
This particular telescope had plenty of plastic, but there
was metal where it counted, like the drawtube and focuser. The objective cell could
be disassembled, something that the cheapest Chinese scopes would forego. But dating
it as a product of the 80s was guesswork. Luckily, there was a model number on
the nameplate on the focuser, “302058.” I assumed it was a model
number, anyway. I didn’t believe the maker (or Tasco) would put a serial number
on such a humble instrument.
Bingo! Typing “Tasco 302058” into the dang Google got me the li’l refractor’s real name/model number: 58T. I had at least heard of that one, and some digging (well Googling) got me plenty of information. That included verification that this girl was indeed a relic from the days of big hair, Rubik’s Cube, and thriving department stores—where the Tasco had likely been purchased. Best of all, I was able to locate and download the 58T’s assembly instructions and separate manual.
The manual is quite OK. Maybe more than OK. It is
what must be the last gasp of Tasco’s old and highly regarded book, A Key to Worlds Beyond. By the
time of the 58T, the included book had shrunk to a mere dozen pages and was now
titled, Reach to Worlds Beyond, but it is still better than the
instructions that come with today’s Department Store/Amazon Telescopes:
It is quite easy to pick out the "keystone" of Hercules, and your
telescope will treat you to a view of the Great Hercules Cluster if you look
along the line of the western edge of the keystone. Small telescopes show this
great globular cluster of 100,000 stars as a little hazy ball of light.
There is more text, if not a lot more text, from “Key”
covering the constellations of each season accompanied by simple charts. There are
also tips on using the telescope, like choosing appropriate magnifications for
a 60mm.
That turned out to be easy. I had a plastic block
that came with my old and long-gone Short Tube 80 that was designed to allow
the scope to be used on a ¼-20 device like a camera tripod. I removed one of
the 58T’s metal side bearings and screwed the short tube 80 accessory on in its
place, it was solid and would, I thought, do fine with a Vixen bracket.
While waiting for the Amazon truck, I figgered I’d do some
preliminary cleaning. Like Tanya, but maybe worse, the 58T’s aluminum tube was dirty
and had plenty of nicks and scrapes and scratches. I did the best I could. If
the 58T turned out to be worth a flip, I’d do more work. I also took care of
objective cleaning. Zeiss lens wipes fixed that. The tailpiece, I noticed, was
loose, very loose. All that was required to secure it, though, was tightening a
few Phillips-head screws.
Cleaning done, I thought about the finder situation.
The finder mount was there (including alignment screws) but I didn’t have a spare
finder small enough in diameter to fit in the single ring. What to do? I
borrowed the C90’s 24mm finder to give the girl a check-ride. If the scope had
possibilities I could fit her with a Rigel Quick Finder base. Or for looks
sake, buy a Chinese 24mm finder off eBay or Amazon, where they go for $10. But
the 58T would need to prove herself first.
Finally, I propped the waif up on a table in the Sunroom
and had a look through her with a good 25mm Plössl (with the aid of the
C90’s .965 to 1.25-inch diagonal). It was hard to tell much about the optics from
a look through a window at the leaves of a distant tree on an overcast day, but
Tiny did snap into focus. Maybe there was hope. Maybe. I settled in to
wait for the Amazon truck bearing the Vixen dovetail. If the 58T turned out to
be a sad little person devoid of worth, no harm, no foul. I needed the Amazon
dovetail for the C90, anyway.
The dovetail I ordered arrived in just a day or two, and I
got Tiny on the AZ-4 mount. She looked good, but would she be
good? I wouldn’t know for sure until the clear skies predicted for a couple of
days hence arrived. I thought I’d get the finder aligned, though, and took the
whole works into the backyard to focus on distant trees. That’s when my
Tasco project came to a screeching halt. Disaster struck.
I returned the Tasco to the Workshop of the Telescopes and
did some cogitating. The easy solution would be a lower profile, shorter
diagonal. I looked on the web but could not find one. Another avenue would be a
shorter .965-inch eyepiece adapter for the drawtube. Vixen appeared to
have made one suitable for small scopes like the 58T at one time, but no longer.
What would I do? What would I do?
I wasn’t ready to toss Tiny back into the 4Runner, so I
considered the other options. There was really nothing for it; there were but
two alternatives. I could shorten the tube, which would cause complications no
matter which end I lopped off. Or… I could take some length off the tailpiece tube
the focuser drawtube goes into. It was
plastic, which would be easier to cut than the aluminum tube. That sounded like
the only practical solution.
I hated to hack into the little Tasco (literally), but there
was just no alternative. I removed the two screws holding the focus knobs/rack
and pinion gear in place and was then able to extract the drawtube. I inserted
the whole tailpiece (it is one molded plastic part) into my vice with about
½-inch of the tube protruding above the jaws. Then, I took a hacksaw to it.
I worked carefully and slowly, and when I’d removed half an inch, I took my
Dremel tool and its wire brush attachment and cleaned up the cut. I’ve got to
say it came out well. If you didn’t know what to look for, I don’t think you’d
know what was done.
Everything together again, out to the back forty the little
scope and I went again. I inserted the diagonal and the 25mm Plössl and gave it
a try. Excellent! There was now more than enough in-travel for the 25mm
and other oculars I tested. Whew! I was finally able to try the scope on
distant objects—they looked good—and align the finder. Fingers and toes
crossed, I settled in to wait for a clear evening.
When the clouds finally parted, I got the Tasco out for some
initial tests. The Moon and planets weren’t visible, so I thought I’d try her
on some bright stars and maybe visit M13 as Reach to Worlds Beyond had
suggested. My first observation—before it got dark? Your Uncle must really
be getting old. The once light and portable SkyWatcher AZ-4 mount was quite
a handful.
M13? Ha! I could barely make out the Keystone in the
hot and muggy and hazy backyard. After only having been outside half an hour,
the little scope’s tube had already begun to collect dew. Luckily, I had
printed an objective cap with my 3D printer to replace the Tasco’s missing one.
The poor conditions didn’t mean I couldn’t give Tiny an initial check-out,
though. There were bright stars visible. Arcturus, Vega, and Altair. Objective
cap off, I went to Vega.
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| Reach to Worlds Beyond! |
I know what poor optics look like, and this wasn’t it.
The image looked good, anyhow. The seeing was hardly perfect, and I
judged it not practical to try a star test. Tiny did appear to be out of collimation a
small amount, but I could deal with that if necessary. The Moon was waxing again,
and I thought Selene would be a revealing test when she got a little older.
I looked at the other bright suns, and it was the same. Sweet.
I also hunted fruitlessly for M57 for a minute or two, but no dice. Before
throwing in that proverbial towel, Unk looked around for something/anything
else to observe—the stars were fading as conditions worsened. I ended the run
with Albireo. The pair looked good, though the colors were suppressed in
the heavy haze. Carrying the wee telescope inside, I judged her first light
with me to have been a success. Before proceeding to Rebel Yell and YouTube
with the felines, I went on Amazon and ordered Tiny (I guess that must be her
name; I keep using it) a 24mm Svbony finder of her very own.
When the Moon was back in the sky, and Tropical Storm
Bertha had gone on her merry way, I did get a look at Luna. The gibbous
Moon was gratifyingly sharp. As always, Copernicus, just off the terminator,
was wonderful—the mighty crater’s terracing was sharp. I tried
magnifications up to 100x with Tiny, and her images held up well. Why did I
stop at 100x (116x, actually)? Two reasons. First, to get past that with 700
millimeters of focal length, you must resort to short focal length,
uncomfortable oculars. I could have
fetched a Barlow…but… The other problem is that with a 2.4-inch refractor you
run out of light in a hurry. With the 6mm eyepiece, the Moon was getting dim.
The denouement? Tiny was the telescope of choice for me for
International Observe the Moon Night, where she did an even better job with
Luna. Plato in particular was a spectacle, with the rising sun throwing shadows
of the mountainous rim across the crater floor. I also finally got a look at
M13. The Great Globular was indeed a little hazy ball of light. At the highest
power I could muster, I almost convinced myself I saw a little graininess in
the cluster’s halo.
And that was that. The little telescope had
proved herself to be a Good Tasco. What’s up next for her? I do have ideas for
projects involving her that you’ll (maybe) read about in coming months.
Next Time: Back on
the Messier Road…




