We’re building the Pleadian Oasis, a tribute to a constellation in the Black Rock Desert at Burning Man.
So considering an opportunity to watch a total eclipse only comes around perhaps a couple of times in a lifetime, our crew wouldn’t be satisfied with a partial experience.
The drive from Reno to the closest vantage point for a good view is 8 hours across Nevada’s majestic and desolate landscape and into Idaho. We relished all the classic elements of an American road trip – podcasts, singalongs, straight highway lines disappearing into the shimmering horizon. Nevada’s seemingly endless scrub and prairie embraced by the rolling slopes of ancient dusty desert mountains.
As we traverse Nevada into Idaho, brave trees sprout from the flat plains and grow into verdant forest. Mountaintops flatten, then soar into ragged basalt points.
We arrive at Boise National Park near dark, setup our modest camp by headlamp and starlight, and sleep. In the morning we trundle down from our nest on a hill and find a nice flat area off the side of the road. We’re joined by a collection of Americans from as far afield as Austin Texas (30 hours drive), Bakersfield California (12 hours drive) and Massachusetts (pretty sure they flew).
We watch carefully through eclipse glasses as the procession began – the moon taking a tiny bite from the corner of the sun’s perfect circle. As the eclipse progressed over an hour, the sun becomes a yellow crescent. Light and heat gradually drain from the valley. High noon becomes dusk.
The sun’s sliver became ever more slender, and suddenly, the valley blinks into darkness. We can’t see the sun through our eclipse glasses, and taking them off, we see the sun and moon united as a black disc with a radiant ring.
Totality.
It’s beautiful and eerie.
We laugh, we howl, we revel in the presence of this luminous dark jewel.
Just for a few moments, two minutes at most.
Then a burst of sunlight breaks the ring open and again we hide our eyes behind special lenses. Midday light and heat return swiftly to the valley, and reality returns with it. Talk turns from space and how mass bends light to what the traffic’s likely to be on the way home.
Through our lenses the moon’s disc is continuing it’s procession across the sun, but the spell of the totality is broken. We’re packing up and saying our goodbyes.
We’re stuck in the traffic on the way back, nursing our memories of that moment we basked in the shadowed radiance of our star.
