Written on November 2, 2011
Have you ever seen so many stars at once, you couldn’t tell the sky was black? Certainly you would’ve if you’ve ever been to Goldendale, in Eastern Washington, on a clear night. What a sight! I was there this past weekend of October 29 and 30 with my dad. On our way to Toppenish we drove down a road that went through a long, wide canyon and through Yakama, where we had dinner. That night we traveled about 30 to 50 miles south to Goldendale Observatory. We came back to Toppenish when we were done at the observatory, so that we could spend the night at a two star Days Inn. On our way back home the next day, we stopped by a wind farm. But I will never forget that observatory in Goldendale.
It was long after dark and the sky was clear when we arrived at Goldendale Observatory, which was just as well because we would be able to see stars more clearly. The astronomer in charge was doing a lecture, so we had to wait a few minutes until he was done. When he was done, however, everyone poured into the actual observatory dome and formed a long line. One by one, each person got to look through the eyepiece at Jupiter and three of its thirty-seven moons. When I got up, Jupiter was blurry and white, but I could see it and the three moons that were visible. After that, my dad and I left and went back to our motel 40 miles away in Toppenish. The whole trip was strewn with millions of stars, and for the first time in my entire life, I saw the Milky Way Galaxy.
If you have never seen the Milky Way, there are no words to describe it. Beautiful doesn’t cover a fraction of it. Infinitely beautiful doesn’t cover even a fraction of a fraction of it. Not just the Milky Way alone is what makes seeing the Milky Way amazing. If it’s dark enough to see it, there are millions, even billions of other stars scattered across the sky as though someone had spilled silver glitter all over the blackness of space. It is truly a brilliant, beautiful, awesome and amazing sight that you will always remember about as long as you live (and then some!). However, although the night sky in Eastern Washington is amazing, just as awe-inspiring is the road that my dad and I took through a canyon on our way to Yakama.
There is a canyon between Yakama and Ellensburg. Winding through the 33 mile long canyon is a gently curving road. Calling this a scenic route would be a terrible understatement. This canyon’s walls are so enormous that I couldn’t even begin to catch the scale. They had no trees or green grass on them, just yellow grass lightly covering the entire hillside. It looked to me like a carpet with someone pushing on either side, causing it to gently fold. In the middle of the canyon was a gorgeously sparkling river. The light seemed to be dancing on its surface. I have only ever seen something similar at sunset at a park on Lake Washington, with the sun quickly disappearing behind the hills and skyscrapers of Seattle. But the skyscrapers of Seattle were nothing compared to the astronomically huge wind turbines that were at a wind farm on the way home from Toppenish.
I hadn’t the slightest idea where my dad and I were or what city (or even county) we were in when we stopped by a wind farm on our way back to Kirkland. We were driving down highway 97, with a cliff on our left and a rockface to our right. On the top of the hill to our right (which was easily several hundred feet high) was a windfarm. I had never seen a wind turbine up close in person before, so my dad and I were scanning for any road or driveway at all. Finally, we found a gravel driveway leading up the rockface. Beside the driveway was a very useful sign. It read:
CAUTION
PRIMITIVE ROAD
NO WARNING SIGNS
And in exploring the driveway, we discovered how right that sign was. It was very uneven gravel, with only one lane, putting us not a meter away from a several hundred foot drop to the (beautiful) valley below. However, after several minutes the ‘Primitive Road’ took a sharp turn to the right after having climbed the whole wall and we found ourselves at the top of an enormous plateau. Directly ahead was a pullout where we could- you guessed it- pull out of the road and get out of the car to view the 47 wind turbines scattered over the mesa. They were spinning (slowly), and it was an outstanding sight to see. I had heard of them, and seen pictures, but never seen them in person. And believe me, there is no possible way to explain how huge they are, or how awesome it is to witness these machines working right with your own eyes. Most surprising was how quiet it was on the hill. There were no birds chirping (not that I’m complaining), seemingly no wind, no car noise of any sort. Not even the turbines themselves were making any noise as the roaders spun around and around. It was so quiet that I could hear the electricity traveling through the power lines overhead. My dad and I read a sign that talked about the wind farm, and it said each turbine is 250’+ tall, with each roader being 125’+ long. It was so electrifying. You must see it with your own eyes to understand how bewildering it is. Although, seeing the wind farm alone would have made any day my best, but truly, everything that happened that weekend played a part.
All in all, the weekend of October 29 and 30 was my best day (or two days) ever. This is due to many events that happened that weekend. Seeing so many stars in one place. Seeing the Milky Way Galaxy for the first time. Seeing Jupiter through a super-telescope. Seeing a wind farm. Seeing such amazing views. Such huge valleys and hills, sparkling rivers and grazing horses. I would go back to Eastern Washington any time, no matter what I would’ve done instead. It’s beautiful.
It was long after dark and the sky was clear when we arrived at Goldendale Observatory, which was just as well because we would be able to see stars more clearly. The astronomer in charge was doing a lecture, so we had to wait a few minutes until he was done. When he was done, however, everyone poured into the actual observatory dome and formed a long line. One by one, each person got to look through the eyepiece at Jupiter and three of its thirty-seven moons. When I got up, Jupiter was blurry and white, but I could see it and the three moons that were visible. After that, my dad and I left and went back to our motel 40 miles away in Toppenish. The whole trip was strewn with millions of stars, and for the first time in my entire life, I saw the Milky Way Galaxy.
If you have never seen the Milky Way, there are no words to describe it. Beautiful doesn’t cover a fraction of it. Infinitely beautiful doesn’t cover even a fraction of a fraction of it. Not just the Milky Way alone is what makes seeing the Milky Way amazing. If it’s dark enough to see it, there are millions, even billions of other stars scattered across the sky as though someone had spilled silver glitter all over the blackness of space. It is truly a brilliant, beautiful, awesome and amazing sight that you will always remember about as long as you live (and then some!). However, although the night sky in Eastern Washington is amazing, just as awe-inspiring is the road that my dad and I took through a canyon on our way to Yakama.
There is a canyon between Yakama and Ellensburg. Winding through the 33 mile long canyon is a gently curving road. Calling this a scenic route would be a terrible understatement. This canyon’s walls are so enormous that I couldn’t even begin to catch the scale. They had no trees or green grass on them, just yellow grass lightly covering the entire hillside. It looked to me like a carpet with someone pushing on either side, causing it to gently fold. In the middle of the canyon was a gorgeously sparkling river. The light seemed to be dancing on its surface. I have only ever seen something similar at sunset at a park on Lake Washington, with the sun quickly disappearing behind the hills and skyscrapers of Seattle. But the skyscrapers of Seattle were nothing compared to the astronomically huge wind turbines that were at a wind farm on the way home from Toppenish.
I hadn’t the slightest idea where my dad and I were or what city (or even county) we were in when we stopped by a wind farm on our way back to Kirkland. We were driving down highway 97, with a cliff on our left and a rockface to our right. On the top of the hill to our right (which was easily several hundred feet high) was a windfarm. I had never seen a wind turbine up close in person before, so my dad and I were scanning for any road or driveway at all. Finally, we found a gravel driveway leading up the rockface. Beside the driveway was a very useful sign. It read:
CAUTION
PRIMITIVE ROAD
NO WARNING SIGNS
And in exploring the driveway, we discovered how right that sign was. It was very uneven gravel, with only one lane, putting us not a meter away from a several hundred foot drop to the (beautiful) valley below. However, after several minutes the ‘Primitive Road’ took a sharp turn to the right after having climbed the whole wall and we found ourselves at the top of an enormous plateau. Directly ahead was a pullout where we could- you guessed it- pull out of the road and get out of the car to view the 47 wind turbines scattered over the mesa. They were spinning (slowly), and it was an outstanding sight to see. I had heard of them, and seen pictures, but never seen them in person. And believe me, there is no possible way to explain how huge they are, or how awesome it is to witness these machines working right with your own eyes. Most surprising was how quiet it was on the hill. There were no birds chirping (not that I’m complaining), seemingly no wind, no car noise of any sort. Not even the turbines themselves were making any noise as the roaders spun around and around. It was so quiet that I could hear the electricity traveling through the power lines overhead. My dad and I read a sign that talked about the wind farm, and it said each turbine is 250’+ tall, with each roader being 125’+ long. It was so electrifying. You must see it with your own eyes to understand how bewildering it is. Although, seeing the wind farm alone would have made any day my best, but truly, everything that happened that weekend played a part.
All in all, the weekend of October 29 and 30 was my best day (or two days) ever. This is due to many events that happened that weekend. Seeing so many stars in one place. Seeing the Milky Way Galaxy for the first time. Seeing Jupiter through a super-telescope. Seeing a wind farm. Seeing such amazing views. Such huge valleys and hills, sparkling rivers and grazing horses. I would go back to Eastern Washington any time, no matter what I would’ve done instead. It’s beautiful.