Milky Way or Bust

This is the weekend of our stargazing adventure, a delayed birthday gift for Jim. The drive to Coudersport was wild. Soon after Williamsport we traversed 50 miles on serpentine back roads, ascending and descending through the breathtaking but nausea-inducing hills. 

Blushing mountain laurel blooms emerged from the forest like proud picket fencing embellishing the edges of the forest. The riot of green included deep mosses and fern-lined woodlands skirting winding roadways. Expanses of so much green were occasionally interrupted by the trunks of impossibly tall trees, lining the road like sentinels standing in precise formation. A good portion of the route ran parallel with a second road for ATVs. This appeared to be an entire subculture, the appeal of which utterly escapes me. The helmeted riders of said small humming contraptions was more apparent with the eruption of telltale dust clouds rivaling the dirt kicked up by Charlie Brown’s hygiene -challenged companion, Pig Pen. By Saturday afternoon it had already been determined that I will be the one behind the wheel as we wind our way back home on those snaking mountain roads tomorrow. Jim does not get motion sick.

 We found our hotel and then found art, encouraging banners, a decorated band shell, and some delicious ice cream on streets that had been laid at the juncture of the Allegheny River and Mill Creek in 1807. 

Had dinner at the Fezz Diner (originally the 1954 Silk City Diner). It was built in New Jersey and trucked to Potter County from Bethlehem. I am looking forward to the stars! I have such high hopes for finally spying the Milky Way tonight. Our Stargazing Tour begins at 10pm and will last several hours. It’s almost time to apply my bug spray. 

ADDENDUM:

Oof. The Shelly Celestial Sightings Curse followed us to Potter County. I have lost count of the late nights Jim and I have jumped into the car filled with optimism and a spirit of midnight adventure and retuned home a bit sullen to have missed hours of decent sleep. Northern lights, Christmas stars, distant nebulae, and the alleged spectacular showers of Perseid remain elusive for us. 

The signage at the base of the mountains here boasts “Highway to the Stars.”  It’s the official honorary designation for a 31-mile stretch of PA Route 44 in Potter County, running from U.S. Route 6 in Coudersport south to the Lycoming County line. 

This is the view from our car. We had just parked in the waiting field and were getting ready to walk out to the prepared viewing area. 

Do you see the small beautiful cloud reclining along the left side of the horizon at the 9:30 pm Nautical Stage of twilight? It was lying in wait for Jim and me. Its rise began with a mischievous grin while we were distracted by the impossible blanket of celestial objects coming into view. 

We turned our heads around toward that cloud two or three times to see Venus, Jupiter, the North Star and several constellations but when we settled into our chairs to hear the soothing stories of the night sky and track the penetrating laser ray of our guide’s hand as he traced the heavens, the offending cloud rose against the clear skies predicted (and witnessed all day) to blind our night vision absolutely. 

Before the cloud menace, we gratefully witnessed shooting stars and satellites too numerous to count. But prior to the Astronomical Stage of twilight’s chance to unveil my dream of the seeing the Milky Way, we and maybe fifty others (some of whom had driven eight hours) were left downcast. 

With dwindling hope, the lament of our guide, stories of astronomy and red light demonstrations of celestial happenings, we tried in vain to wait it out. In the end, we all folded up our chairs and departed the enormous private field on a hill (aka window to the heavens). It was about two hours after arrival. 

It must be said, the Coudersport fireflies did their best to imitate twinkling stars. But loving the skies as we do, we were not easily fooled. The painted stars on my newly acquired Potter County Christmas ornament will just have to do. 

Persistence

Apparently a succulent leaf fell off in the back of my car during a Lancaster adventure over six weeks ago. I discovered it yesterday when Jim put down the back seats to load a new push-mower into my trunk. It was flourishing despite no water and temps fluctuating between sweltering and freezing. It had sprouted with new life during its purgatory. 

I gave the poor thing a soil bed. 

We could all learn a thing or two about tenacity from that determined little leaf.

Picking Berries

Jim is in his happy place, picking fruit at Bob White Acres. I’m meanwhile practicing patience in the parking lot from the front seat of Jim’s Mini Cooper (Penelope) with the windows and doors open and a nice breeze blowing. He parked strategically to limit direct sunlight. I had an unexpected encounter with a developmental biology researcher from Delaware and his sweet family. (I know this because I looked him up once I knew his face, name, and state of origin 😂.) His family included a lovely wife and the cutest little Asian boys in octopus shorts. They came to pick strawberries but didn’t realize they were driving to some back woods where orchards deal under the table in cash only. The grateful gentleman downloaded the Venmo app and made a deposit in my account. When the little boys saw me hand their father some cash, a cheer went up from the back seat of their car. 😂 They invited me to join them in picking. I think I may have laughed out loud before declining their gracious invitation. As a decades old ginger, I generally avoid full sun activities.