I watched handfuls of videos and read hundreds of articles, and I still wasn’t sure what I was about to experience with the impending totality at Oregon Eclipse Gathering 2017.
As time continues to move forward, I’ve taken a few moments to re-think, relive, and remember what I experienced while I was at the Oregon Eclipse Gathering 2017. While there was a lot that happened, I wanted to be sure to document my exact experience of totality, what it meant for me, and what I saw and felt as it happened.
Many of us had decided that we wanted to stay up all night leading into the eclipse. That being said, many of us failed in that endeavor. Speaking as someone who runs efficiently on about 4-5 hours of sleep and having been dancing since 5pm the day before, I knew I was at my limit.
We got back to the campsite around 6am with the blue hue of the sky just beginning to break the horizon. I needed to sleep or at least a nap. Only a small group of us had returned at this time and although we had the intention of staying up, we all agreed we wanted to rest our eyes. I fell hard onto my inflatable mattress inside my tent. I was certain a few hours would restore my energy and also mildly afraid I might miss it, but I trusted that someone in the nine-car caravan would wake me up in time. My last thoughts as I drifted off to sleep were, “I wonder what it will be like.”
My last thoughts as I drifted off to sleep were, “I wonder what it will be like.”
“Hey, it’s time!” My bed was being kicked by a well-intentioned friend.
I rolled out of bed still wearing my onesie from the night before. I was unsure of what time it was and was sorely hoping that hadn’t woken me up minutes before it started. The campsite was alive with action. People gathering blankets, hydrating, and of course getting their glasses. I asked what time it was and was pleasantly surprised it wasn’t even 9am. Considering the 2-hour nap for the night, I felt pretty great.
Wandering around the campsite, I was trying to find my camera. The sun was really beginning to beat down and I had to shed half my onesie wrapping the arms around my waist to keep it up. I gathered blankets and took a small break as I waited for half my group to get their lives together. Half the group was already ready and said they were going to go ahead; we told them we would meet them there, a naive thought in retrospect. An hour had probably passed by the time the rest of us were in a state to walk over.
This was day 5 and we had adventured enough to the know exactly where to go – we were on our way to the Sun Temple on the other side of the grounds.
There were only two paths to get us there. One involved a bridge made of floating platforms and the other a two to three person strip of land at the other end of the festival grounds. We opted for the closer of the two which had us walking down the hill toward the water. We could have walked on the dirt path or through the forest; we chose the trees for the shade as well as the fact that it was shorter.
The line was slowly becoming a staggering length. We were not alone as we walked by the water and suddenly two lines were merging. People farther up the dirt path began yelling, “There’s a line,” trying to get our line to deflect back up the hill to which no one was responding.
The two lines would merge, we would all arrive to the same place, and many of us were too tired to worry about others wanting us to walk back up hill. The platforms were the true struggle for many. Tired and possibly hungover individuals squeezed together as the platforms swayed from side to side.
More than once, someone made the comment, “I can barely do this sober, can you imagine if I was drunk?” They weren’t wrong: the platforms tipped up from side to side as the weight distribution changed across them, each one seemingly more unstable than the last. I frequently found myself grabbing the rope on the side and praying I wouldn’t fall in with my camera.
As we made it to the other side we realized that had we wanted to be in the temple we had lagged too much. So as we walked by the lake we collectively decided to set up next to the water.
We got set up and began to wait. Slow and steady changes were leading us to a breathtaking event.
Blankets were laid out, inflatable hammocks were set up, and bags were used as pillows as we all donned our solar eclipse glasses and stared upward. The eclipse had already started, not that we had any idea. Staring up through those tinted lenses, we saw the curvature of the moon slowly covering the sun. It was only about a quarter way through by this time.
Someone was beating a drum some ways behind us. There were conversations happening all around us but our group was unusually quiet. We were patiently waiting and in my mind, I was really questioning what I was watching. It was just moving so slowly and nothing seemed that interesting at the time.
Since we were camped in front of the 1st Nation Earth Camp, a representative came around saying that the elders of the camp were requesting silence for totality. It was a simple enough request and most of us I’m sure were thinking, “What would we even say?”
Suddenly, I sat up and looked around. The sun was a little more than 60% covered but something was wrong, or different is probably a better word.
At first, I honestly couldn’t figure it out. What was it? I sat upright for a moment took a deep breath and it hit me. “Whoa,” I said out loud. My friends looked in my direction. “Do you feel that?” There was silence. The temperature was dropping and not just in a gradual air conditioned room sort of way but a more drastic shift. I undid the onesie wrap from my waist and begin to put it on. Shirtless people around me started putting their shirts back on.
We were now about 75% into the eclipse and the energy in the atmosphere was getting more pronounced. I looked around me trying to take in everything. In the silence, you started to hear birds singing. It had been silent most of the morning save the sound of people, but suddenly, the birds were alive. Howls from people erupted from over the hill and spread throughout the surrounding area. We were now approaching totality and we were all on edge.
Totality was reached as we stared upward into the sun. It was so much more than I expected. I was overwhelmed.
Trust me as I tell you at this point, the videos, the articles, the pictures, and yes, even this description will fall incredibly short of allowing you to experience what we felt and saw. There is no adequate way to capture that moment and share it with you, but nonetheless, I will try.
Cheers erupted across the grounds and it felt as though an electric shock had gone through all of us. We removed the glasses and stared directly into a beautiful, black circle surrounded by a brilliant light. The science part of me knew that I was now witnessing the corona of the sun.
For the first time, we were seeing the magnitude of the solar atmosphere and its light was purer than any color or photo could describe. The space between the moon and us and the sun fell away as you truly got to understand the power that is generated from that life-giving light.
In 360 degrees around us, the orange, pink, and blue hues of a sunset gathered us in her arms. It was staggering and surreal. I remember realizing I had been holding my breath since it started. I exhaled for the first time. Crickets were chirping as the bird songs fell silent. We were in shock. We were in awe.
Many of my group gripped tighter to each other’s hands as we struggled to take in these two beautiful minutes. It was as if the world stopped.
I took a few photos before letting my camera just rest to my side, and even missing those few seconds seemed tragic in some way. It was now the coldest it had ever been at just past 10am. It wasn’t cold enough to see your breath, but it was cold enough to want a thin scarf.
Suddenly, a light pierced the corner of the sun, and more cheers erupted. The noise was deafening even from where we were. Light scattered across the lands as we scrambled to find our glasses. Smiles from ear to ear were everywhere as tears streamed down people’s faces. I did not cry at the time. I think I was overwhelmed by all of it but I promise, even as I write this, tears have welled up remembering each minute up to this point. We all stood up, our friend Caroline ran toward the lake to jump in! We began hugging each other as more cheers and howls echoed across the grounds. Yells of “do it again,”,”wait,
We all stood up, and our friend Caroline ran toward the lake to jump in! We began hugging each other as more cheers and howls echoed across the grounds. Yells of “Do it again,”,”Wait, was that it?” and “Did I miss it?” created an atmosphere of levity and comic relief for one of the most intense, beautiful, and memorable moments of our lives. Across the water, “Here Comes the Sun” began blaring out and I think we all thought, “This could not be more perfect.”
We slowly began gathering our things. While we could have continued watching the moon leave its obstructing path of the sun, not much else was noticeably happening and a handful of our group was trying to leave the venue and catch a flight. The group started back toward the platform bridge, all of us in silence. I was replaying the moments in my mind, trying to cement the memories for later. I needed to be able to relive it in my writing and process the phenomenon.
We made it back to the campsite without more than a few words exchanged, and by this time, the temperature had returned to normal and I was stripping out of my onesie as I sat down under the canopy. I needed more sleep but was so amped by what had just occurred. As I closed my eyes, I knew this would be something I would have to see again one day. Letting my mind wander into sleep I smiled, eternally thankful to have that time capsule forever etched in memory.
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Featured Photo Credit: Carlos Lopez
