Some nights it's fun to share the skies with others, and other nights it's nice to be out by yourself. Last night was one of the latter. Our club had a star party the night before, but I had spent Saturday on a long day trip seeing friends and drinking more than my share of wine. When my wife and I got home a little after 8 pm, I was beat, so I crawled into bed and was asleep by about 9:15. I slept well, though, and late in the afternoon I decided to get one more night of viewing in before CalStar. I dutifully posted my observing intent to our club email list, and I also emailed a few friends to let them know, but I was secretly happy when no one responded.
Washington Road Scenic Overlook is a spot on Tahoe National Forest land just north of State Route 20 about 20 minutes east of Nevada City (
https://maps.app.goo.gl/8erWDa8JVg9LhXRL9). The spot overlooks an area that was hydraulically mined back in the day. One of the challenges of observing in the hills of Nevada County above about 2500 feet is that there are tall pines almost everywhere, blocking the views in almost every direction. I love the shade when I am out mountain biking, but it makes it hard to find a spot to observe. The miners of the late 19th century, obviously thinking of us future amateur astronomers, opened up views in some locations by literally washing away trees and hills with high pressure water cannons ("monitors" as they were called then). All that dirt and gravel, once the gold was separated, had to go somewhere, and it filled up the rivers downstream into the Sacramento Valley, causing flooding on adjacent farms and incidentally also polluting the creeks with mercury from the gold separation process. (The court decision shutting down hydraulic mining was one of the first environmental lawsuits in the country.) So some downsides for sure, but those open horizons were a nice benefit. This location is a nice spot on a decent sized plateau left of the highway, with hydraulic "diggins" (denuded areas) surrounding much of the area. If you drive a low clearance vehicle like my Prius, you have to pick your lines carefully as you climb the old gravel road, but when you get there you are shielded from car headlights on the road and have decent horizons all around.
The ground there is relatively smooth but littered with rocks of various sizes. Over my visits I've cleared a spot of larger rocks and have made a relatively smooth and level area to set up my 18" dob. Though I had forgotten my small box of blocks and shims that I use to level my equatorial platform and had to scrounge some bits of wood and branches to improvise, I set up relatively quickly. One of my goals for the evening was to check that my scope was good after some maintenance and cleaning. I collimated it, then dropped it down to check the Telrad alignment. I had epoxied some delaminating plastic along the rocker that had caused it to stick in some positions, and I was happy to see that it moved smoothly again. Travels to various summer star parties had left everything dusty, too, so I had cleaned and waxed the rotating surfaces. That almost worked too well, because though movement was buttery, I found that below about 25 degrees or so the nose started dropping on its own. I made a note to add some weight to the tail, but overall I found the scope to be a pleasure to use again.
This time of year is really nice for observing: it gets dark relatively early, atmosphere is still dry and few bugs, summer vacations are over so there are few tourists or locals out and about, and the nights are cool but not cold. I enjoyed the evening as the sun set and the stars came out. Unlike many of you, I have only been observing for a few years, and only with any "seriousness" or regularity for less than two. I've also always used electronic navigation aids, so I don't know the sky like the back of my hand as many of you do, too. So I have been spending time at sunset watching as bright stars, then fainter ones and constellations, emerge. My NexStar system on my SCT and PiFinder on my dob, both used with SkySafari, have been a boon to my observing, and I love using them to find and navigate to faint objects. I'll never say one way is better than the other. But there is pleasure in perusing the sky without these aids, and feeling that sense of learning, then familiarity and recognition.
By this time the sun is well below the horizon and it is getting nicely dark. If any other visitors are going to show up, they have generally done it by now, but no one has. Sweet. I do a quick fine tuning of the PiFinder alignment on Altair, the slide over to Gamma Delphinus, a familiar easy double with a nicely matched pair. I've got no set goals for the evening, so I decide to look through some observing lists I have in SkySafari, picking up a few as yet unobserved objects here and there, and take a first look at some new lists. Or whatever. Before it gets really dark, for some reason the Double Cluster comes to mind. I take a look at it first with my binoculars, the slew the scope way over to look at it. Lovely in my Nagler 31. A dark orange pinpoint between the clusters catches my eye, and not for the first time. This time I take the time to investigate it. SkySafari tells me it is FZ Persei, a variable red supergiant about 7,000 light years distant. Cool.
Now it is a little past astronomical twilight. SQM reading is 21.1, typical for this location. Sometimes, under particularly good conditions (fog down in the Sacramento Valley blocking the light pollution? I need to pay attention next time), it will be well into the Bortle 3 range, but not tonight. But that's fine, I'm not complaining. I decide to give some fainter objects a go anyway. Almost randomly, from an HCG list I pick UGC 12896, a 14th magnitude spiral in Pegasus. It's there, faintly. But I can't say I am getting a lot from the experience, so I move on to other things.
My next random object is Kronberger 23, a very small open cluster in Cepheus. Hmm. Let's get a little easier. Swinging too far the other way, and compromising my vision for a little while, I move over to Saturn. Surprisingly nice and steady, good seeing for here (though transparency is average). Little blue Neptune is just next door, too.
I relax for a bit, drink some water, and peruse the constellations as my eyes adjust again. What can I see in these conditions? Stephan's Quintet shows three, maybe four galaxies, along with nearby NGC 7320CB, though really these deserve darker skies. Enough of that. I move to NGC 896 and the Heart Nebula (IC 1805), nice big fluffy clouds with a UHC filter. Now a couple new-to-me planetaries, little Maffei 1 and IC 4997, also helped with filters.
But, hmm, my PiFinder alignment is off a bit. Dang, the mount has worked loose. I've got the screwdriver in my bin, but do I want to dig it out? It's just after 11, but I am getting tired. (I can't help being a morning person, even if I love astronomy.) So I decide to take that as a sign and I add that maintenance to my to-do list. I finish with something big and lovely, M 2. I pack up the car, drive carefully out past a camper I never heard (nice when folks are polite), and arrive home right at midnight.
Were great tasks accomplished? No. Were big lists checked off? No again. Were strenuously faint objects observed? Nope. Was a great time had by all (just me), delights of the heavens appreciated, a lovely evening enjoyed, and a soul refreshed? For sure.
Rod