My Eclipse Adventure

I didn't drive as far as Keely and Grant, only 353 miles instead of 600, but that was plenty long for me. It took me about 6 hours to get to the Halcyon House B&B in Lawrence, Kansas.

This B&B, found by Keely, turned out to be a very nice place to stay, and I would recommend it to anyone who might need a room while in Lawrence. It has some nice outdoor amenities, and the breakfast was great.

Within minutes of arriving, I had guests.

Then, for the next two days, Laurie Jo and David and Cynthia and Liz and Mary and Jakob and I explored Lawrence's downtown area, dined out, and discussed strategies for maximizing our eclipse experience. Unfortunately, the weather forecast could not have been more uncertain. 

As we walked around the city, we noticed few indicators of the pending event. But we did find one business that was "Closed, but still Awesome" explaining to it loyal customers that the closure was due to the observance of Pagan Rituals.

On Sunday afternoon, I found a hardware store and bought some supplies in anticipation of sitting for several hours under a hot Kansas sun waiting for the Moon to make its move.

Monday morning, the day of the eclipse, I started at 6am at a coffeeshop, under a beautiful, clear blue sky . . . 

and drove north to Hiawatha, Kansas, near the center of the band of totality. On the edge of town was a small country park where I set up under the shade of a pair of large evergreens. The sky had become overcast with turbulent, fast-moving clouds, which I watched nervously, and discussed its dynamics with other campers who had come up with the same Hiawatha plan as mine. 

With about 90 minutes to go, the sun was not visible through the clouds, and a light rain had begun to fall. I felt I had put myself in a pretty good spot for viewing the eclipse, but the weather was completely indifferent to my genius.

I left the campground and started driving north, then west, then north, then west, looking for breaks in the clouds . . .

Eventually, it started to get dark, and I knew the eclipse was happening.

I stopped the car, I don't know where, some nameless place, and stepped onto the highway looking at the sky, feeling the dark. All traffic had ceased, birds flew out of the fields to take refuge in the trees, and crickets began to chirp.

Here is the view looking east. 

It really was indistinguishable from dusk.

Here is the view looking west.

And then, just as quickly as it began, it ended.

I just stood there for a few minutes, contemplating what an elaborate adventure I had planned for 2 minutes of exotic experience.

Still, with 300 miles to go, I climbed back into the car and started driving north. Within minutes, I found myself in the odd circumstance of remote, rural bumper-to-bumper traffic, which continued for several hours until I re-entered Iowa and slipped onto remote back roads.