Falling Away
That’s just what the ground did just a few short hours ago: it fell away.
Actually, it fell away for the first time of three, as I’m on leg one of a rather
long three leg trip to Hawaii.
This trip, like my last to the little tropical paradise in the middle of
the Pacific, is all business. There won’t be be any fun in the sun for me.
No beaches, no babes in bikinis, and no daquiris on the water will be in
my future.
That doesn’t mean there are clouds on the horizon. In fact, the only clouds
I’m likely to see will exist 1000 feet or more below me. I’ll be sleeping
at an elevation of about 9000 feet and working at the top of Mauna Kea,
which stands over 14000 feet above sea level. Things will be looking
up, literally.
For those that don’t know, my programming work with NASA has led me to
visit one of the best three places on earth to take astronomy. That
should be helpful, as that’s exactly what the scientists I’ll be helping
will be doing. The little piece of
software that myself and several
team members have been toiling over for the
past several years will be helping some scientists take some infared peeks
at the sky from the
CSO (Caltech Submillimeter Observatory).
The work itself isn’t exactly fun and games. It involves some rather long hours
fighting the effects of high altitude on the brain. I’ll help them use our
software and likely write some new software in the process. However,
the opportunity to see your hard work in action is very rewarding.
The opportunity to witness this in a pretty incredible environment can be even
better.
One regret I have about this trip is that I didn’t take this chance to take
better advantage of the surroundings. I’ve never — never — seen a night
sky like the display put on every night by Mauna Kea. My first trip was
nearly worth the first glance. Once darkness falls, you can easily make out
our neighbor planets with the naked eye. The spectacular light display
overhead never fails to impress. No wonder
our ancient ancestors once worshiped the sky as a god. It’s an incredible
sight to behold.
But it would have been nice to get out and grab some more information on astronomy.
Maybe I should have grabbed myself a book or two. It would
be a sad waste of an incredible view to ignore the twinkling above.
I suppose the internet and the words of several NASA astronomers will be my
replacement.
The one thing I did do was bring my 35 mm camera. Add in some 1600 film and
I’m hoping the little photographer in me will
allow me to share this experience with others.
Thinking about the rest of this trip has at least gotten me a bit excited,
maybe excited enough to ignore the mountains of work ahead. It’s also gotten
me a bit homesick. I already miss my wife and unborn child. I sincerely
hope I can enjoy the experience of the next week but – make no mistake
– I just can’t wait to be heading home.
Mom
November 9th, 2002 at 8:49 pm #
Miss you,miss you! Taylor and I are reading your notes together. Barry and I are keeping watch over her and your little one to be, but can’t wait to be home. Love you!!!!!! Mom