Astronomers must be jealous of the meteorologists because every few months the meteorologists lead the news with the big story about a blizzard, tornado, hurricane, or heatwave. Astronomers hope for headlines with press releases about Jupiter being aligned with Mars for the first time in 500 years. Meh. The night sky pretty much looks the same. Don't care. However there is one astrological event where the weather girls must stand aside, the total eclipse of the sun. And the solar eclipse was coming on August 21, 2017!
I checked out the path of totality and saw its going to span the southern tip of Illinois and intersect the Tunnel Hill Trail in Shawnee National Forest. Perfect, I'll drive 6 hours south to see the eclipse and get some riding in too.
I left a day early headed for Lone Point Campground on the shores of Lake Shelbyville (sites 62-64 are very nice). The lake is surrounded by country roads and hiking trails so once I set up camp, I rode out to explore.
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| Lone Point Campground, Lake Shelbyville |
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| Lake Shelbyville's south end |
I wandered south along the west side of the lake. Despite the fair number of dead ends, I uncovered an interesting route of hiking/biking trails and turned around at the dam. On my return, as I climbed back to the road, my derailleur hanger snapped. Crap! This is a real problem as I'm at least five miles from my car on a lonely country road and the sun is setting.
I considered my options. Wait on the roadside to hitch a ride or figure out a way to pedal the bike without a derailleur. A derailleur is used to not only shift gears, but keep tension on the chain so it doesn't slip off. If I keep tension on the chain and don't switch gears, I might still be able to pedal. I draped the chain on the gear cassette with the slack hanging below and started pedaling. It worked! I managed to pedal a few yards and then the chain slipped off. Hmmm, I draped it again. It slipped off. Again. I pedaled a little farther this time as I was careful not to sway the bike which, I learned, causes the chain to slip off the cassette. Soon I discovered the optimum pitch of the bike (5 degrees to the left) that keeps the chain from sliding off. Thankfully, it's all flat roads back to campground and I got back in time for dinner and a swim before sunset.
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| Converting my mountain bike to a single-speed. |
In the morning, I stopped at a bicycle shop to find a replacement hanger. It's an uncommon part and they'd need to order it. Arg. As I drove south to the eclipse, it occurred to me I could shorten the chain (I have a chain tool) and, much like yesterday, ride using one gear. In Stonefort, I parked along the bike path and got out my bike tools. After 45 minutes and two greasy hands, I had wired the useless derailleur out of the way and shortened the chain so it would stay in one gear. I rode it around the parking lot a couple times. Yes, it works!
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| My best photo of the eclipse (not) |
Somewhere south of here, around 1:20 PM, the sun will be in total eclipse for 2 minutes and 41 seconds. I packed the tools away and rode off on the Tunnel Hill Trail towards the totality. A typical rails-to-trails route, the Tunnel Hill Trail runs southwest through agricultural fields, small towns and the Shawnee National Forest.
At each of the small towns I rode through, the locals were gathering for the big moment. In Carbondale, 40 miles east, much of the town gathered in the SIU football stadium to share the experience. I heard later a small cloud blocked their view at the critical moment. As I entered New Burnside, I checked my watch -- just a few minutes to go. The local crowd was noisy and distracting, so I turned off the trail and rode up a quiet farm road. The sun had been in partial eclipse for over an hour, but now there was just a sliver of sun visible. I parked my bike next to a water tower, served lunch and waited.
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| Total eclipse spooky |
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| Same street view three minutes later |
With a sliver of sun visible, the change was modest. But when the sun was total obscured by the moon, the change was surprisingly dramatic. The landscape darkened. The bugs got rowdy. I heard a cock crow. Amazing. But wait, doesn't the same thing happen every day a couple hours after dinner?
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| Note all the shadows are little crescents |
The main event was over, but there was still some biking to do. I continued south to the tunnel and the turnaround -- a very impressive bridge.
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| Tunnel Hill Trail's namesake |
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| Turned around at the trestle |
Biking back, I thought I was smart letting all the eclipse traffic get ahead of me. Back at car around 4 PM, I checked Google for the fastest route home. The route displayed wasn't what I expected. It showed a rather roundabout route to northbound I-57. But as my son, the Google software engineer, reminds me, "Trust the technology, Dad," so I drive as I'm instructed.
I pulled into a rural gas station for a fill up. The place was packed with cars and people. The clerk seemed frazzled. Something weird was going on. As I drove on, I kept getting routed farther and farther from I-57. At one small town, the police blocked main street and routed everyone back out of town. Soon Google had routed me and hundreds of other cars onto a remote country road. So remote that the residents were out at the end of their driveways laughing, waving and taking pictures of the endless parade of cars.
I realized it was going to take a lot longer than the normal 6 hours to drive home. I also realized Google was creating it's own traffic jams trying route drivers around the traffic bottle-necked on I-57. I decided to find my own way home using, gasp, a paper map. When Google routed me east, I went west and finally got away from the crowds. I pulled in the driveway after 2 a.m.
I was one of the lucky ones. My sister shared that one of the other teachers at College of DuPage spent 16 hours driving home from Carbondale, arriving one hour before her 8 a.m. math class on Monday.
Ratio of traffic to totality: one hour of driving for every 10 seconds of eclipse. Next total eclipse of the sun: April 8, 2024.
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