Missed it in 2017 by some 300 miles; considering making the trip this year – didn’t realize it would be another 20 years before the next domestic one.

So even if the weather does mean things,
I still plan on enjoying my trip,
MSG Grumpy

My wife and I drove down there from MN (where we used to live) and found a nice place just off a secondary road by a bridge, with a very large parking area and clear views from east to west. Being Nebraska it was flat and the only trees were over by the small river. The town was absolutely packed and you couldn’t find a room for any price. We had a nice breakfast at the motel and then went out to our selected area.

There were only two other vehicles there, and I was parking when my wife suggested that I turn the truck around and face the highway, which turned out to be an excellent idea. As the morning went on, the place absolutely filled up. We were blessed with mostly clear skies, and the few clouds were far to the east (a storm, as it turned out). We met all kinds of people, including one man with a good telescope and sun filter material over the objective. As the moon started to impinge on the sun, people (who had been fairly loud, some drinking) started to get quiet. As the eclipse went on the guy with the telescope was sharing it with anyone who wanted to look for a few seconds.

Just before totality the wind, which had been gently blowing out of the west, died completely. The birds stopped singing, and there was an incredible hush over the entire landscape when it became total. People stopped talking, the one or two boom boxes that had been playing were silenced, and there was an almost total silence. This was my first (and will probably be my last) total solar eclipse, and watching as the corona appeared was almost magical. Totality lasted just a few minutes, and as soon as the edge of the sun peaked around the arc of the moon, sound returned to the area…people who had been whispering were laughing and exclaiming, the birds started to chirp and sing again, and the landscape lost that funny monochrome appearance that totality had given it.

The only problem was the drive home…there had been an accident somewhere in Lincoln and the entire 90-some miles of interstate turned into a parking lot. We got off the freeway and dead-reckoned our way through the backroads up through Iowa and finally to home. It took an ungodly number of hours, but we never regretted taking the time to make the trip. Something to check off on any human being’s bucket list who has an interest in watching the sky.

McClellanville will always be remembered for its ante-bellum houses, live mossy oaks, the smell of the sea and the gracious hospitality of the residents. The townies seemed to be out in force setting up stands and chairs on their lawns and sidewalks and selling beverages, snacks and home-made wares. We stopped near the middle of town at a nice little park about two acres across with porta-a-potties set up near the road. Obviously, someone in that town was turned on and thinking ahead.

We parked and got busy setting up our chairs, cooler and blanket, and then had a walk around to see the town up close. When we got back, a group of vendors had shown up in lunch trucks or bar-b-que trailers and started cooking up some great smelling grub. More and more people arrived as the morning went on and they wandered out to find their spot on the lawn. The park had turned into a mini festival site. Small bands set up and entertained, kids with wagons were selling bottled water with their parents right behind selling beer and bottles of wine. As I said, someone was turned on down there.

As the event neared, the park was nearly filled with everyone excited and eager. The shadows under the oaks were adopting an “arch-like” shape due to the moon as the darkness crept up on us. Then … we were in it and dead center too. We saw the ring of fire, the corona, the stars and we listened to the quiet. Birds settled into the trees, and totally confused bees were flying into people all around us trying to get home.

And we stood there for four or five minutes with a thousand of our closest friends, smack dab in the middle of one of nature most spectacular shows that can only be described as awe inspiring. There are just no other words for it. The size of the pieces of matter in play at that moment just dwarf our own miniscule presence to the point you can actually feel the delta. For everyone there, the memory will qualify at the “I know exactly where I was that day” level … never to fade away. When it was all over, everyone at that park had become “event-friends” and for life. Huge smiles, hugs and high-fives made the rounds. Wow. It was like it happened yesterday.

I will be in Sandusky, Ohio with the better 1/2 and a 6-year-old grandchild come the weekend of April 8th with high hopes for a good clear day and more stellar memories.

There are maps that show the percentage of cloud cover by climatology. Here’s an example: https://s.w-x.co/eclipse2024clouds.jpg

I got lucky last time and I’m hoping and hoping for clear skies again. You roll the dice and take your chances!

Having traveled to the centerline in 2017, I think this year we’re gonna set up in our backyard to grill burgers and bratwurst. Friends and family from as far as Atlanta will converge at my house, and we’ll view the eclipse from “close enough” to the centerline to be worth it. I can’t wait for my three children to experience this event, as well as my parents, who’ve never seen a total eclipse in all their 65-years on this Earth.

Another was in Southern Turkey, by the Aegean Sea and a Greek temple. Beautiful display and locale, but diminished by somebody who thought it would be really cool to have a full orchestra playing during totality!

I had a pair of eclipse-viewing binoculars with a permanent filter built in, which were completely safe but somewhat novel then. So my wife and I took turns watching through them, while the other fended off the well-meaning tourists who rushed up to warn us that we were going to burn our eyes out!