Astronomers and Planets Converge at Monte Bello

Pick a number. Pick a number between 5.9 and 6.1 billion. Say, 6,057,203,451. Now let each one of this number represent a single sentient human being. A being whose corporeal form dwells on one small planet, orbiting an average star, within one larger than average spiral galaxy, again within what may ultimately turn out to be a single example of as many universes.

Now pick another number. This time a fraction. Let this pick represent the number of sentient human beings on our Blue Planet that take to the Night Sky in earnest. How many out of, let's say, one million human beings, do you think would sacrifice a whole evening, mid-week, away from comforts of home and warmth of hearth to stand in the chill of the night and ponder the subtly manifest glories of a ridiculously small portion of a single universe? One hundred? One thousand tops, - right? So OK, let's say 541. 541 out of 1,000,000. Some .05%.

Do the math... Throughout our world there may be 3,276,947 ardent amateur astronomers. And yesterday, from my small perspective, first 2 then 12 came together to stand beneath the chill of the Night Sky, and in a most affably social way, ponder the subtly manifest glories of a ridiculously small portion of a single universe.

In September of 2000 and after a three-decade hiatus, I returned to take up my place among the ranks of the 3,276,947 ardent amateur astronomers whose corporeal form dwells upon Sol's Blue Planet. Within a very short time what were once the few solitary nocturnal vigils of my youth became a matter of social engagement. I attended my very first star party (with the fine folks of the Santa Cruz Astronomy Club). Meanwhile, a growing body of posts on the internet (initially at Alistair Thompson's 150 millimeter reflector site and later on JTB's Amateur Astronomy Homepage) made me part of the international amateur astronomy community. By January of 2001, I began email exchanges with a small number of other amateur's. Included among these was one with someone known simply as "theAstronomer" who observed out of Ohio.

Now relationships such the one I have with theAstronomer usually exist only in that "quasi-realistic" medium called by some "cyberspace". Within that realm, one hears the voice of one's own imagining while reading newsgroups posts, email messages, or when engaged in the haltingly semi-realtime banter of internet chat rooms. Though personal photos may be shared as email attachments or as part of websites or "personality" profiles, none such existed of theAstronomer. So yesterday as I awaited T's arrival at San Jose International Airport, I can hardly be criticized for not recognizing her as she passed me by as I waited in the main reception area on the way to baggage collection.

Needless to say, I caught up with T in baggage claim. And in so doing 2 of 3,276,947 ardent amateur astronomers made acquaintance in corporeal form...

Jeff and "T" at Monte Bello © 2002 Phil Terzian (PTerzian@aol.com) All Rights Reserved. In this picture T-the dobber is messing with a an EQ - trying to get it right!

T and I arrived on site at the Monte Bello Open Space Preserve well before sunset. Now ordinarily this would not be such a good thing. Can't really setup Argo in the Sun. (Black tube and all...) So the best you can hope for is to loll about enjoying the scenery and conversation. However on this occasion, and very much to my personal surprise, several scopes were already setup. And aimed most precisely toward a particular, and very brilliant star. Our very own Sol.

It didn't take long to wander in the general direction of Rich's "ST" 92.5 - complete with Baader filter. And of course, it wasn't much longer before T and I were "getting up close and personal" with the latest batch of solar blemishes. I was immediately struck by the amount of fine detail visible at and around the various sunspot groups. Shouldn't have been quite as surprised when T started explaining precisely what I was seeing...

"At the outgoing edge a large facula appeared with visible granulation. Sunspot group 9365 displayed a tri-lobed umbra surrounded by a single regular penumbra. Various smaller constellations of dispersed umbral regions were also visible on the globe. Finally there was evidence of the Wilson effect at the exiting group along with some granulation toward the limb." - T.

Now T has been at this sunspot thing for quite awhile. Rich, T, and I discussed the relative merits of Baader versus other types of filters. The sense I got was that although the Baader's offered sharper, more-solar images, bandpass filters (such as those sourced by Orion B&T) tend to better reveal granulation. Baader filters also have the merit of being less expensive and are quite easy to work with in terms of assembly.

Now I already spend far too much of my so called life behind the eyepiece, solar astronomy could easily begin to consume far too much of what little remains.

Within a half hour of the Sun's dissappearance behind the western hills, first Venus, then Jupiter, and finally Mercury, Saturn and Mars fell under our inspection. James mentioned that the jet stream was flowing in torrents over the SF Bay Area. This did little to make planetary views appealing. Rich for instance, went to a lot of trouble to setup that 6 inch APO of his and seemed perhaps slightly more dissappointed than the unknown fellow down the way who had just put together an 18 inch Starmaster truss tube dob. For you see despite the poor stability, the sky - for around these parts - was reasonably clear and free of clouds. There was the promise of some truly "mediocre" deepsky viewing before us...

Made a tour of the various scopes in my immediate vacinity. Chuck had setup his fine 10 inch Mewlon cassegrain. Alan had setup his homebuilt "super-planetary" Newtonian - complete with "flex-paraboloid" 8 inch primary. All views of Jupiter through the various scopes showed about the same. 150x showed the main belts with the occasional glimpse of the NTB. The Galileans lined up nicely west of Jupiter. It's possible the 6 inch APO gave a slightly finer view - but then, for whatever reason, I tended to spend more time at the AP's eyepiece...

Speaking of Alan's newt. Seem's he recently wrote an article for Sky and Tel regarding turbulent air flow over the surface of the primary and its effect on "seeing" at the eyepiece. Alan stepped me through a little experiment while viewing the Castor matched pair. Darned if the gap between the two flaring spurious images didn't alternately widen and narrow half a minute after turning on and off the FFU. Quite impressive. Alan explained that the effect is even more easily demonstrated during 7+/10 seeing than the 6-/10 seeing experienced at the time.

So OK, I need to wrap up. Before so doing, let me say a few things about that large faint NGC globular cluster in Bootes (NGC 5466). Seems 10 inches of cassegrain reflector does a right fine job of showing maybe two dozen resolved stellar components when a 6 inch is just able to show the cluster as a large faint nebular glow...

And finally Omega Centauri... Round about 11:00 just about every scope went "full tilt". (You should see them starmasters with their big flashing mirrors pointed right at ya!) Anyway, for the very first time I've seen something more than a hazy glow in the field of view. Chuck's ten inch actually resolved several dozen stars. While Rich's 6 showed something more than the scintillation of the same number. Meanwhile Argo, - T spent at least twenty minutes contemplating this fine globular at the eyepiece. The report is "some stars across the core". Personally, I thought the AP made resolution more prominent - although a good deal of scintillation was seen throug Argo as well.

One final observation, T's ten years of almost nightly observing has given her quite an eye for structure and detail on all sorts of studies. Galaxies, disparate doubles, globulars - you name it - the Lady has it!

Pilgrims Progress at Mt Hamilton

Even berfore T's arrival, I knew this was going to be one demading period of time. Unlike myself, T likes to get behind the eyepiece on every possible occasion. So, plans had been laid to resume our quest the very next day with a drive up to Lick Observatory on Mount Hamilton. Now, as many folks know, a state of near exhaustion doesn't lend itself to inpiration or enthusiam. T was hot to trot, but I was not. This naturally led to a discussion of observer's "burn out" and possiblities of a "jaded and faded" astronomy outlook.

So, with a previous night's experiences... such as they were, posted out to my astrobud's at TAC, T and I hit the road for points east and north. We were going to take the "long and winding road" to the top of Mt. Hamilton and the Lick Observatory. For some strange reason, I thought it was incumbant on us to arrive by 1:00pm in order to attend the "one and only" tour of the Observatory presented at that time. As it turned out, we arrived after 1:00 and found that the tour was presented every half hour throughout the afternoon (visitors notwithstanding). There were several minutes before we would participate in the next tour. T and I wandered the halls of the Visitor's Center which includes the 36" refractor site and a smaller unused dome facility. There was somethng very quiet and hallowed about those "halls" and the courtyard outside. Photographs of various astronomical studies hung along the walls, many of which were leading edge in their own time, but would probably have difficulty matching images captured by contemporary amateurs using CCD imagers (and Cor Berrovoet's new image stacking software!).

There was also something else we noticed. The entire complex seemed to hang in a state of abstraction. Even so, we learned that occasionally the 36" refractor was pressed to service for research, educational enrichment, and public education. Despite this, tt seemed that the bulk of the energies of the UC Santa Cruz system, which maintains the facilities, had been scooped up and transferred to the much more contemporary and cutting edge Keck Observatory complex on the big island of Hawaii. As T and I walked the grounds, numerous domes were seen to be in a state of disuse. On peering through the windows of the unused domes and rooms throughout the complex, many were seen to be used for storage. Often a dome appeared to be bereft of observational equipment altogether. A few had equipment, but all covered up, untouched for decades.

None of this is intended to be a critism of the Lick Observatory, or of the University of California of Santa Cruz. Encroachment of neighboring cities, such as San Jose and Morgan Hill have rendered the night sky somewhat less than ideal for cutting edge research. As stated previously, much in the resources available for astronomical research have been shunted to the "Big Island" and the bigger scopes... And the even bigger skies under which they stand.

But T and I weren't here to simply walk the grounds and to absorb the history of the Lick Observatory. We had brought along Argo and the Pup for a night of observing. But the hour was early and although T was exhilerated, J was tired. It would be many hours before we would turn scopes to sky. The many previous nights of observing, as mentioned before, had taken its' toll on my enthusiasm. T and I took up our conversation again concerning the matters of "burn out" and "jadedness". Rejuvenation was possible, however. Slowly, I felt and renewing of commitment and resolve. The night sky was big enough and endured long enough to sustain my interest - surely!

There was in fact, something about walking Lick's halls, seeing those old photographs, contemplating busts of astronomers past and their supporters, that was a subtle source of regeneration.

As the hours passed, and the mid-spring sun drew nearer to the horizon. We needed to decide on a place to set up the scopes. Short drives up and down Mt. Hamiliton road, and the desire to have good views to south and east led us to a small observatory dome abandoned, isolated... That we thought might make an excellent venue for us to observe from. Having made no arrangements in advance to observe from the grounds, we contacted the local security officer. Despite some measure of understanding, the officer was disinclined for us to observe from our chosen venue. Traveling east on highway 130, and not too far outside the grounds of the UC Lick Observatory, we found a paved road to a fire tower. Past the gate to the tower we came across a semi-passable spot with views south, east, and west. Despite the tree, we later found that all the classical planets could be seen exiting the night sky to the west.

At 8:10 PDST, the last vestiges of the solar disc could be seen slipping down below the western skyline. Almost immediately we were able to pick out Venus some thirty plus degrees east of the nearest horizon. That first look at the planet's brilliantly luminous disk at 180X showed enough definition to inspire our endeavours. A few moments later, Jupiter could be seen unaided, barely exiting the sky's middle third. Immediately, both Argo at 180X and the Pup at 80X were redirected to the Royal Monarch. This was not the 6 of 10 seeing found at Monte Bello the previous evening! Though not the finest view of the planet seen through 150mm Argo, it came damn close. The central equatorial belt took on a rare presence and delineation bisecting the distance between north and south equatorial belts. A dark barge could be seen approaching transit on the NEB. Nicely defined NEB irregularities could be seen breaking into the equatorial zone. A curd-like mottling could just be seen within the zone as well. The NTB was crisply delineated. STB present, but subtle. None of the other minor belts were visible. But not for lack of optical reach! The galieans were tiny, round specks against a darkening night sky. Most, if not all, had taken up a position trailing the planet to the east.

T was very pleased with the sharpness and presence that Argo detailed in the planet's cloud tops. Now, you have to understand that T has been following many of the reports published at astro.geekjoy and is familiar intellectually with the kinds of views Argo is capable of. I had hoped to have a night such as this where that intellectual appreciation could translate to visual familiarity.

The Pup, too, gave fine views of Jupiter's belt system. It was soon clear that more image scale was needful. Adding the 2X Shorty Barlow to the optical train increased Jupiter's size to a much more managable 140X. Hints of the equatorial belt were possible, and most surprisingly the dark barge could be detected approaching the CM.

As T and I continued to follow the transiting barge, we'd switch to the other planets hanging above the western horizon. Mars gave a tiny orange-red gibbous disk with only a tiny amount of flare - nothing unexpected here. More distant Saturn gave a decent 6/10 view of disk and ring system. In Argo, Cassini appeared waivering and inconsistant. In brief interludes an almost ribbon-like sharpening appeared.

In those moments when Argo would reveal the main ring division with greatest clarity, Cassini would also become distinctly visible in the 80mm Pup. But, the real surprise of the evening was when we were both allowed to see the tiny, perfect "crescent-moon" of Mercury hanging some 10 degrees above the horizon. Gorgeous and distinct with clear albeido markings - from bright orange/yellow at the equator, to bone/white at the poles. Unquestionably the finest view of the planet seen by either of us... EVER!

This night held great promise... And the few remnants of weariness that clung to me still were easily shaken off - to say the least.

By 8:50 PDST, T and I referencing the two scope separately agreed that Jupiter's barge had just transited.

Throughout all of this, the sky darkened, air chilled and winds had built to a crescendo. We were cold, yet exhilarated by the fine views of the planets presented to us by our two scope buddies. Through the blessings of an otherwise still and transparent night sky. Retiring to the car, we talked and napped until the last vestiges of our solar orbs rays could be seen to the west. It was time. Skydark. 9:45 PDST. Emerging from the cab, we looked up to behold a multitude of stars overhead. Certainly the deepest sky I had experienced since a trip last year to Crater Lake at Oregon. And as for T? Just another dark sky night in Ohio...

There seemed to be an unspoken agreement between the two of us that no charts would be used this evening - and for several good reasons. The night air was very  C O L D.  And that same air was very  B L U S T E R Y.  In fact the winds were so strong that I chose not to install Argo's plastic dewshield for fear it would be snatched by airy fingers and delivered to the darkness below.

Our first deepsky studies were selected from among those visible to us from the west. Open cluster M35 gave only a satisfactory view due to low sky postion and San Jose lightdome. A "light dome" that could be seen visibly contigious with hundreds of thousands of lights in the valley below us. In fact, the effect was so strong we were unable to detect nearby cluster NGC2158, a mere twenty arc minutes southwest of M35 core. This view discouraged us from any further explorations in Gemini. Further east, Cancer could be seen still within the sky's middle third. M44 was our next study. Through the 80mm Pup I was just able to hold the 12.7 magnitude test star at 80X, under moderate aversion. Thus, at a mere one millimeter exit pupil magnification, the Pup was capable of holding stars to magnitude 12. This equates to 8 of 10 seeing stability and magnitude 5.9 unaided stellar reach. Such nights are exceedingly rare from backyard Boulder Creek! Our trip to Lick was vindicated...

We also dropped in on M67 just west of Alpha Cancri. The view through the 80mm Pup showed a nicely uniform group of 11+ magnitude stars, although it lacked the density possible in 150mm Argo. Now we went north to the "Great Galactic Duo."

It was here that such a deepsky paid its dividend. Both galaxies glowed so brightly in the night that we feared our pupils would contract and we'd would lose our dark adaptation. For the very first time, (at 52X) Argo was able to reveal the dust lane that lies west of the core of the M81. T remarked that a certain bright star-like point was actually a brilliant knot in the galaxy iteself. Something I find rather incredulous. (Further research needed!)

M82 displayed several distinct irregularities along its' frontier - as is its' usual wont, but with greater clarity. The Pup at 40X gave a similar, but less obviously structured view.

We dropped down to Beta Ursa Majoris for a look at the "Owl" and "Edge-on" located east/southeast. Indisputably, the sharpest, most extensive view of M108's spiral extensions seen to date through Argo. Meanwhile, that of the Owl planetary matched a sky of similiar depth from the Bonny Dune SCAC site last year even to the suggestion of one of the Owl's dark eyes. Continuing east/southeast, we turned both scopes on the M51, the "Whirlpool Galaxy" and NGC companion, 5195. Through Argo, and at a mere 52X, both spiral arms plus the barred extension toward the companion could be seen. But wind and cold had had its effect - we retreated once again into the hatchback for rest and re-thermalization.

Returning to the eyepieces around 1):30, we easily turned up the M65/66 pair plus NGC3628 that make up the "Leo Trio" between Theta and Iota Leonis. Although there have been occasions where the slight curl at the root of M66's spiral arms have been detected through 150mm Argo, to our regrets T and I, under the influence of rapidly chilling extremities moved on to our next study - M98.

Centering on Denebola, slewed due east to 6 Coma Berenices. The goal was to determine if, in fact, that vague, wafting of light, was indeed and actually an edge-on galaxy as proclaimed in all reference sources. (Not that I doubted the records mind you.) Now, typically, this galaxy is a very faint blur in both Argo and the Pup. No sense of orientation was possible. However on this very fine night, lying well near culmination, the 80m Pup, at some 40X, clearly proved the galaxy to be a faint edge-on, though some mild aversion was required.

The time now was about 11:00 pm, centering on Spica and well aware of the intense light dome lying due south, (Morgan Hill?) made the effort to turn up the southern wonder, Omega Centauri. To our surprise and delight, had no trouble picking out the large, faint, moon-like glow of the cluster some handful of degrees above the southern horizon. Unfortunately and once again, complete resolution of the cluster was denied us. It would seem that sky stability to the south was not equivalent to that of the west seen earlier in the evening. Foreground stars defied proper focus and that unremitting skyglow rendered even this fine cluster's magnitude 9 components undetectable. Once again, we retreated to the car for several hours of nap. The plan was to awake to the observing of the rising constellations of Scorpio, Saggitarius, Scutum, Vulpecula and Lyra.

It wasn't until 3:00 a.m. that we resumed our nocturnal adventures. Scorpio lay at culmination. M4 was a easy find due west of Antares through the finderscope. Th cluster showed a large number of faint outliers. These well outside the normal bounds seen under inferior conditions. The cluster took on an almost "shield-like" shape to the cluster as a whole. As always the fine queue of stars bisecting the core was easily apparent. I then made a run for M80 - a very small and intense globular cluster. I was convinced the cluster lay due east of Delta in the Scorpion's Tail. But despite my best efforts through Argo's 7X35mm finderscope, unable to pick out the cluster among the many stars in the field. Half an hour later, depairing at use of finderscope, simply swept about in the general location east of Delta. In so doing turned up an intense point of light totally beyond all hope of resolution.

From M80 dropped down to the Scorpion's tail and turned up large open cluster M7. This bright but less than compact clusters numerous members could be seen to well overflow the one degree, 52X field. Despite numerous attempts, was unable to pick out small 10th magnitude globular cluster, NGC6453 located near the cluster's perimeter to the northwest. Once again, the "Morgan Hill" lightdome had worked its' especial "charms" on that region of the sky.

Slewing northwest, tracked down the smaller, more concentrated cluster, M6 which displayed numerous lobes and arcs of variously magnitudinated stars.

All this led up to the time to walk the "Via Galactic."

Beginning at the "Teapot's Spout", Gamma Saggitarii, we slew due north with the finderscope to the "Lagoon Nebula" which showed three prominent lobes of bright nebulousity, broken by very present dark trunks of absorption nebulae. To T's eye, some filamentation was visible on the perimeters of the Strawberry Cluster - which is the nebula's well-evolved fourth lobe. Continuing north, the less luminous "Trifid", M20 nebulosity was our next study. Two faint lobes of luminosity were seen but these were far more subtle and lacked the strong definition exhibited by Lagoon nebula and intervening dark nebulosity. The fine double centered in the Western(?) lobe was easily resolved at 52x. Nearby an undistinguished open cluster (M21) was easily picked up, almost in the same field.

Continuing north and east, we scanned our Galaxy's "Window" into the core: M24. Of particular interest was the bright sheen of dense, globularesque 11th magnitude cluster, NGC6603. Resuming our swing north, the "Swan Nebula" glided into the finderscope and main tube. For some reason, I was less impressed with he view of this delicate and bright nebula than on other occasions when higher magnifications were employed.

Continuing our ascent, M16 was also easily found also in the finderscope accompanied by its retinue of stars. Oddly the view of the "Eagle Nebula" was superior to all that seen previously through Argo.

It was now time for the contemplation of a trio of old favorites. The first faint glows of a rising solar orb could be seen to the east. Slewing northeast toward the "Eagle's" tail feathers, M11 was easily discerned in all of its "near globular glory" in both finder and main tube.

Continuing north along the Great White Way, we took light from M's 27 and 57. Neither Ring nor Dumbbell gave especially superb views of structure at such low magnifications, but both shone brightly luminous against the blackness of a 6th magnitude deep sky. Through Argo, the Ring's 13th magnitude neighbor could be seen with mild aversion adjacent to the Ring's eastern ansa. Meanwhile, M27 took up a place richly endowed in a sparkling stellar neighborhood.

A rich harvest of celestial wonders now hangs well overhead in mid-spring's pre-dawn skies. Soon this vast treasure-trove will take residence in the night sky above our heads. Meanwhile, the Great Solar Pilgrim will find another years' consummation. And we "faded and jaded" occupants of the Blue Planet might once again find our aspirations renewed...

Comments from ~T

And so, as we continue this series of reports from "Hotel California", I find myself lacking in my own reports. (a situation of which I think Jeff could quite probably understand.) Detailing my own observations is a much a part of me as my eternal fascination for the night...

I have come to this place with "open arms and open eyes"... Ready for new experiences. What I have been given is total unfamiliarity, and an opportunity to overcome it. What was not told was the countless minutes I spent in search of the right knobs to turn, the inability to "star hop" in my own fashion, and a different way of doing things. Can I learn? You betcha'... Resilience is my middle name.

Part of my "Quest" has been met. For now I have seen Omega Centauri with my own eyes... In itself, a fantasy come true. More adventures await. My time here is not finished yet. But what I have found is a rejuvination of my own sorts. A solution to my own "faded and jaded" philosophy of stargazing. And what did it take to change my views?

A scopist... ;)

~T

Aperture Fervour at Fremont Peak

Yesterday the schedule called for what could have been a less than satisfying trip to Fremont Peak near San Juan Bautista, CA. Why potentially less than satisfying? Well, we really weren't interested in observing out of the Peak in the usual manner. No "Argo and the Pup under the night sky" sort of thing. We hoped to probe the mysteries of aperture. And this required inches. Inches T had left behind in Ohio and I couldn' personally provide here in Calfornia. But I knew where aperture could be found. And no, not garden-variety star party aperture either. Were talking   A P E R T U R E  . Thirty inches, 76 centimeters. 762 millimeters. And not out on some lonely ledge buffeted by blustery winds either. Inside an observatory. Between four walls and a roof formed of the coelum nocturnis above.

But we were going to bring a scope along - just in case. And no, not Argo or the Pup. We would be bringing "Vicki": Astro.Geekjoy's "project scope" - a 102mm F9.8 achromat of Vixen Optical manufacture. A scope destined to ultimately pass to a new home. A scope which would become the center of my personal astronomical universe for the next few months until an appropriate amateur astronomer could be found to take over its loving care and use. A scope whose sale would help offset onerous expenses incurred by friend Dave in Washington state who must constantly - and of his own coin - maintain an expensive pipeline to the internet so that the internet-based astronomical community may continue to enjoy what astro.geekjoy and AstroTalk have to offer.

We arrived after sunset. Payed the three dollar day use fee and parked near the drive leading past the Ranger's domicle and ultimately to the Fremont Peak Observing Associations (FPOA's) amateur astronomy observatory.

We chose that locale to park because we were not alone. Others parked there as well. Despite fog creeping in "on little cat feet" all around us, I knew the observatory would be open. For you see this was the night of convergences. Mars and Venus were at a point of closest proximation for decades to come. And there be crowds...

T and I walked the drive to the observatory. There was revelry ahead. Numerous laughing and enthusiastic voices. Mostly young - all boisterious. And the vast bulk of these corporeal beings spilled oustide the steps leading into the "inner sanctum". T and I wended our way through the crowd. Up the steps. Through the open door. Then regarded "the Big Eye". Massive split-yoke cradled, truss-assembled newtonian. The objective was uncovered. No one was at the eyepiece - through the scope was directed toward the conjunction. A conjunction which would soon drift below the western observatory wall.

But there was the fog to contend with too. It swelled overhead then subsided again. It was this that prevented early use of the scope. Certainly a decision had to be made. Folks young and younger mixed on the deck of the observatory. A few could be seen in the adjacent observatory lecture room. A few small scopes displayed therein as well.

Ordinarily the Fremont Peak Observatory is not open to the public on Friday nights. But on this particular occasion, FPOA member Pat had given a presentation at a "local" school. The group then assembled at the observatory for some "eye's on" experience. T and I benefited from the happy coincidence of this event.

Maybe twenty minutes passed and the scope operator installed the eyepieces and pre-positioned the stepped ladder needed to access the ocular. With the Mars-Venus pair only some 25 degrees above the horizon, let the queueing begin!

A train of ardent observers repeated the cycle of ascent and descent. Each awed by the swollen, gibbous, sunlike-brilliance of Venus and the tiny red-orange disk of Mars. The seeing was so-so. Precise edge focus was not possible. But the planets were tightly conjunct and easily held in the same field - even at 90x. Such a conjunction will not occur until Oct 6, 2017. At that time many of the students visiting the observatory will be in their third decade! (Don't ask about T and I, but there's a distinct possibility that we will both be still around and grinning.)

After the twenty or so folks finished their look, Paul (our tour guide and cheuffer) redirected the scope to Jupiter and upped the magnification. The addition of a blue filter helped take the overpowering radiance off the planet and several belts were easily detected. - No there was none of the fine detail seen through Argo from Mt. Hamilton the previous evening. BUT, the three main belts were plain and dark and could not be missed.

Now a somewhat smaller contingent cycled past the eyepiece. Most of these dozen or so observers took two looks (T and me got more!). And once the tide of enthusiasm fully past. T, Paul, and fellow FPOA member Pat were left pretty much to our own devices.

Since the scope was directed toward Jupiter in Gemini, recommended that we swing north of Castor and take in the Intergalactic Wanderer globular cluster. And it was here where T and I began to appreciate Paul's quiet efficiency in directing and navigating the large, but remarkably spry scope and mount. Shuffling between laptop PC and various finders it would be about fifteen minutes before Paul had the globular centered and tracking locked in through the big scope.

Meanwhile, I chatted aimiably with Pat - "an old hand" at the observatory. Pat is someone I and fellow SCAC amateur Dan had acquantainced during last months new moon at Fremont Peak. Pat outlined some of the sensitive issues associated with maintaining an occasionally difficult liaison between the governing body of Fremont Peak State Park, the FPOA, and other non-FPOA Fremont Peak observers (many who are members of TAC and therefore my associates).

For you see, the very first time I came to Fremont Peak I walked into a scene where one ranger in residence was moving on and a less-astro-centric crew was about to move in. Now this new crew - being less tied to Our High Art and Science, and perhaps less experienced in the ways of artful give and take, pressed the FPOA to ensure that Park regulations be strictly maintained. Thus, a general tightening of access to and use of the observatory and its grounds was implemented. Restrictions which meant that non-FPOA amateurs who had previously enjoyed more relaxed conditions would be excluded from setting up scopes along the observatory drive. The inevitable tensions followed as a kind of rift between the FPOA and other Fremont Peak observers.

Listening to Pat, I could only think to myself that such a rift - though understandable - was unnecessary and could easily have been forestalled had everyone involved simply "walked a mile" in the others moccasins...

Paul had the scope centered on the Wanderer. To my eye, the cluster appeared about as bright and large as say a sub-ninth magnitude NGC globular through Argo. Though it lacked a well-defined core point, there was a significant sense of "roughness" about the cluster on direct contemplation. A little eye movement and a dozen or so threshold stars were possible. Meanwhile, T's more experienced eye caught a few direct and others with aversion. Paul was less convinced of incipient resolution, but claimed his eyes weren't what they used to be. He also noted that the default eyepieces were subject to numerous "eyelashings". Paul then headed out to his own car and returned with his owned prized super-widefield Naglers. And with this change, the cluster came alive. Stars that T could just hold direct, I was now holding with the slightest aversion and the dozen stars seen on eyemovement became several dozens when using the "softeye" approach. The cluster now more closely resembled "the Hedgehog" - M56 in the Lyre.

After we all took our several looks and moments, we moved on to the Eskimo Planetary - also in Gemini. And here it was that T and I began to really get "aperture fervour". Color in the planetary was staggering and luminous. The central star was easily seen to be surrounded by a well-defined planetary disk. Outside the "muffled mantle" which gives the planetary its name could be obviously distinguished. This scope gave the kind of views that the average Josephine in the street would call "like the Hubble - sorta".

Next we took the plunge, dropped the big eye well south of Spica. Paul pointed out that the finderscope was almost useless now - its field blocked by the top of the observatory building's low south wall. By centering on a neighboring star to the due north of the cluster, Paul eventually tracked it down through the main tube.

The Omega Centauri globular was very luminous - but lacked true resolution to my eye. A brighter version of what Chuck's ten inch scope showed from Monte Bello earlier in the week. But by increasing magnification, we were able to achieve a sort of "frosted window pane" look. Like some kind of crazy glass mosaic, an incredible wealth of stars could be "resolved".

As T spent the next ten minutes quietly absorbing Omega's light, Paul and I chatted about his involvement in the observatory. Seem's Paul, like myself, is a former New Englander. His expertise in engineering and system's administration brought him to San Jose about a year ago. Since then Paul has consistently volunteered his time at the FPOA observatory, learned the ropes, and now operates the scope unattended. Paul's apprenticeship is over.

With T's departure from the ep, Paul centered the scope on M104. And here is where aperture fervour got a second kick in the pants. Can you say "Dark lane like a black magic marker line completely along the length of the galaxy." This was absolutely dumbfounding. Something that may only be "sensed" through 6 inch Argo on a good night of transparency and seeing was layed plain and bare and beyond all disputation. Incredible.

Then it was on to Globulars M13 and M92. To get a sense of these just take a look at any high quality observatory photo. It was all there. Stellar-profusion! Star-chaining! Numerous wending and mysterious "dark rifts" - especially in M13. Not only this but a single luminous twelth magnitude "yellow giant sun" proximate to M13 core standing out in high relief engulfed in the blueness of its multitude of neighbors. Stupendous!

Of course we also took a look at M13's nearby NGC6207 galactic playmate. Very present with dust lane suspected a long its length - similar to the way Argo reveals the lane seen in the Sombrero.

Finally, there was that comet - now in northern Hercules. Huge and globular. Omega Centauri in redux without a hint of resolution - except a single supremely bright central core. We were looking at the tail from behind. Good Travels IK and to all!

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