Totality Rocks

If memory serves, today was my third solar eclipse. Previously I’ve only seen partial eclipses but this time I went to the max.

A few days ago I drove to my in-laws’ house in northern Indiana. We had been planning to drive 2 1/2 hours to Muncie which is in the path of totality. We were dreading a traffic nightmare.

This morning we called an audible and switched our destination to Portland, Indiana. Portland is northeast of Muncie but is a much smaller town.

Using secondary highways and backroads, my daughter expertly navigated us to Portland in a bit over two hours. We stopped at a gas station convenience store and asked some locals if there was a park in town that would be good for viewing. Sure enough, the town park was one-half mile away.

The park was a bit crowded but we found a parking spot and set up. My mother-in-law had organized drinks, snacks and seating. My wife brought a fistful of eclipse glasses.

After a two-hour wait. We started to see some exciting eclipse action. To be honest watching the moon creep across the face of the solar disc over the course of 90 minutes is a bit boring. We could feel the temperature drop. The amount of ambient light was fading.

Then the big moment.

The last bits of the disc were covered as a tiny dot of red on the edge of the sun vanished. We could hear applause and hoots all through the park and across town. A cannon boomed. We sat in awe for some 3 1/2 minutes until the process reversed. We had expected the birds and spring peepers to become silent at totality. They quieted but we could still hear them.

Truth be told our eclipse glasses made it impossible to see the ring of fire of the total eclipse. Stupidly we peaked at the sun and the ring was evident. Wearing the eclipse glasses caused my pupils to be dilated making the ring look thicker than the one I’ve seen in photos.

Still, it was well worth over 1,000 miles of driving to see the big moment. Check another box off the bucket list.

My daughter and I watching the eclipse and getting nasty sunburns.
My mad scientist look