Folks,
We arrived at Guadalupe Mountains National Park around 23:30 on March the 11th. We were tired and sleepy and ready to set up our tent, but there were no sites available (or that could be found) and the park was pretty full. We searched for a while, then decided to make the trip back to White's City, New Mexico, and camp there. Unbeknownst to us, our own Don Fritz, and Bill and Tim (of Fort Worth), were examining the heavens that clear Friday night. In fact, me and my friends were astounded by the glowing nature of the night sky at GMNP that night. The stars almost jump out at you there, truly one of the darkest sky sites left in the country. I highly recommend the trip, just to see the expanding heavens, if nothing else.
Of course, the "nothing else" would take the vast majority of me and my friends' efforts as we scaled the top of Texas Saturday afternoon - near the summit, against a strong wind, looking back to the south at the peak of El Capitán (8085').

 

We DID, of course, have astronomy on the agenda, but Mother Nature had different ideas about our Saturday night.
Although it was a clear, Crescent Moon-ed night, the winds would not allow us to uncover very much celestial treasure. However, as the night began, the skies were a little more stable than they wound up being. So, while Tim gave "The Program" which, according to my camping buddy Tom, I should have listened to cause he discussed light pollution a lot, Don, Bill and I got quick glances in through Don's new Apogee WideView 4" refractor, Bill's 12" StarMaster truss dob, and my Orion 100mm F/6. Don's scope appears to have better optics than mine, having less chromatic aberration and a bit sharper views. I'd like to do some more testing sans gale force winds, but at first glance (usually the best), Don's seemed a bit better. Of course, Bill's 12" gave the best views.
Visually, the most striking thing we did was set up and look at the glowing Crescent moon, Earthshine radiating from its darkened façade. The amphitheater at GMNP is geographically open to the East, and surrounded by tall mountains from the other three directions. Consequently, the Sun (and the moon) go down behind mountains well above the horizon, and long before atmospheric distortions muck up the views. Additionally, there are a LOT of pine and other trees and bush along the distant mountains. And the distance matters a LOT. In a telescope, the focus for these mountain rimming trees is, essentially, infinity, i.e., just like the Moon. So the trees, rocky jags and brush all appear in perfect focus as the moon descends below the mountainous terrain. It is an amazing thing, and an experience words cannot do justice. If you don't see this, or something like it, you're missing one of the best visual telescopic experiences of lifetime. Especially if you live on the plains or hail from the slow rolling hills of the East, where the enormous, high, distant mountains don't go.
We looked at M1, M51, the Rosette Nebula, M42, M81/82 & NGC 3077, M50, two clusters in Monoceros, the Beehive, Corona Borealis, etc. Eventually, though, Tim got finished and here came the crowds. I put M81/M82 into my FOV and continuously explained what people were looking at (the immediate aftermath of a galactic collision) so many times my friend Tom thought I had been transformed by the darkness and wind from a human to a large parrot. Eventually, though, I DID get a cracker (well, I am from Alabama). The crowds dwindled and we tried, fruitlessly, to pick up where we'd left off.
But the high winds had other ideas. Let's face it, if a portable truss dob can't even be kept steady, you're not really going to see much with anything else. Poor Bill's image of Saturn just danced around in the eyepiece, and couldn't even get close to my 6"er's here on a steady night. No doubt, his 12" would have done a much better job, but the winds wouldn't let us determine this on that particular night. C'est la vie.
After climbing to the Top of Texas, Guadalupe Peak - 8,749', that day (4.2 miles and 3000' up, not to mention 4.2 miles back), being vigorously beaten by the increasingly cooler wind was not on our agenda. My friends, not astro-fanatics like me, were even less interested in hanging around. Honestly, though, we were literally blown out of the water (or amphitheater, as the case may be). So we broke things down and headed back the 40 miles north to White's City.
The next day, Sunday, we took Don's advice and hiked the Devil's Hall Trail, one of GMNP's best kept secrets. It's a nice little hike, 2.2 miles, up a wadi bed leading to a natural shale rock amphitheater.



Climbing up this amphitheater steps, Tom, Austin and I sat down and opened our packs to consume our little snacks (raisins, banana, small pop top can of sliced pineapple). While sitting there, Tom looked up into the rocks and commented "Look, there's a face."



I whispered back "It's the Devil."
After all this fun, we went to Cloudcroft for skiing. Yee haw! One of the best trips of my life, though not the best for astronomy. Still, the moon setting along the Guadalupe mountain range was well worth the trip. Another trip there is in order.
BTW, sorry for being out of pocket this past weekend. I had a wedding reception Friday night, followed by the wedding Saturday night, and Sunday wasn't nearly as clear. However, I am very interested in getting back out under the heavens to do some observing - Saturn, Jupiter and the moon all beckoning us. Maybe we can even catch fast footed Mercury!
Ciao amigos,
CDS