The Great Solar Eclipse of 2017 crossed the continent, from Oregon to South Carolina, and gave millions of people the chance to witness one of the most awe-inspiring events in the natural world.

But you had to be within the "path of totality", a narrow band across the earth's surface several thousand miles long but only about 70 miles wide. Outside that band you would only see a partial eclipse, not a total eclipse.

And there is no such thing as a "partial total eclipse", despite the impression blogs and the news media might give. I honestly think that's why so many people misunderstand the utter beauty of the spectacle; they may have seen a partial eclipse in the past that was total somewhere else, and even though they weren't in the path the news kept gushing about it being a total eclipse, so they assume they must have seen a total eclipse and just didn't find it all that impressive.


Posted by Dan 08/29/2017, revised 09/06/2017

I met this baby at Machinery Row Bicycles. We've been writing love letters back and forth ever since. It could be getting really serious.


Posted by kim 03/20/2011

Nik enjoys motorcycling and rebuilding a 1970 Porsche 914.

In high school his interest in working on cars and motorcycles became an all-consuming passion, so he enrolled to study auto mechanics at UTI (Universal Technical Institute) in Phoenix, Arizona. He graduated from there in December, 2001.

Nik graduated from Ygnacio Valley High School in June 2000. He capped a stellar high school career with 10 varsity letters, including 3 in cross-country (all-BVAL, 1st-Team), 3 in soccer, and 4 in volleyball (all-BVAL, 2nd-Team). But up until 3 weeks before graduation, it was still unclear whether the administration would actually let him graduate -- they seemed to think he hadn't completed enough courses in Physical Education! He got a lesson in bureaucrats and their rules.

Nik finished his final high school cross-country season in remarkable fashion. A grueling schedule was loaded with invitational tournaments, in which they did quite well. In the Bay Valley Athletic League finals, Ygnacio Valley finished a close 2nd, placing an astonishing four runners in the first six in the league. Nik's 5th-place finish earned him 1st-Team All-League honors. In the North Coast Section Championships, Ygnacio Valley dominated the Division I final, placing four runners in the first nine and winning the Division I title easily. then it was off to respectable showings at the State Championships and Far Western Regionals, where Nik placed an impressive 25th place individually.

He also completed three years as goalkeeper for the varsity soccer team, and four years of high school volleyball, earning 2nd-Team All-League honors.

Posted by Dan 01/20/2003

21 de junio, Estacion de Biodiversidad, Tiputini

Today, I experienced the arrival of a storm in a freight train of senses.

I sat in a wooden canoe in the middle of a lake in the Amazon rain forest. In the distance, thunder mumbled and tumbled across the dense land. The sky got darker, the air got thicker. The storm made no attempts to sneak up on me, but rather used a range of pathways to indicate its arrival, in a persistent and relentless manner. It urged me to pay attention to it all, to each aspect of its existence.

In a calm, quiet lake I sat. An unmistakable hush started from far off, moving decisively closer, growing and building quickly into a clamor, a rushing train headed straight for me, through the trees and washing over the green land. I knew it was arriving. I heard it arriving. Then I saw it arriving, sliding across the water from the bank, prickling the surface of the lake as it pressed towards me.

Then I felt it. It hit my skin, it pattered off my arms, it moved in lapping waves around me, gentle yet, but sure. Then the wind. It galloped over the treetops, stirring up excited energy, and swept me up in it. It swiped across the thick drops splattered on my skin, sunk into my clothes, soaked into my hair. It blew my energy around, lashing at my previous sense of calm. The tumbling thunder moved closer, grew stronger, and urged my little boat of surrendered appreciation decisively from the center of the lake to the embrace of the bank.

This was not a dramatic flash of monsoonal expression of Power. This was Power built thick and heavy. Arrival was not simply the first step of Departure. Arrival was the arrival of a guest that stayed and settled into the corner of the couch with its feet kicked up. There wasn't a Departure, the storm simply slowly and imperceptibly faded away after time - a heavy mist snaking away to the heavens and leaving a weighty blanket sitting over everything.

It was a magical experience that colored my day... and it was, I believe, the thickest rainstorm I have ever been in.

Amazon photo album: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.864167170098.2372447.19700757&l=fbd26288a4

Posted by Whitney 06/26/2011, revised 06/26/2011