Gliding along sweet singletrack under the morning’s whitewashed sky I wondered whether or not the clouds would eclipse my dream.
The last solar exclipse to cast its shadow on Oregon a few years back I witnessed at the local courthouse with a fun crowd. On Saturday I opted for a solo show.
But on the drive to the Whychus Overlook where I would hit the trail, the clouds played hide and seek with the sun.
At first the sun appeared to sit softly on a cloud looking like a sunnyside up breakfast dish.
A gang of local whitetail deer didn’t seem fazed, nor were the carloads of families heading out to the overlook.
My Golden Lab Summer and I hit the trail with the sun hidden somewhere in that blank sky and cruised through the high desert flora keeping an eye out for a shadow.
That previous eclipse left me awestruck — unable to find the words to describe how it made me feel.
So one would think I would do a little more research to be prepared for this effort. All I really knew is that it would be seen first in North America on the Oregon Coast.
What that meant for me camping in Sisters some 150 miles from the coast, well, who knows?
We rode on with no shadows as the trail rolled into the forest. We popped out for a short spell and finally could pinpoint the sun behind the clouds.
Then the trail dove into the canyon, where we wouldn’t even know if the sun poked out or not. I got caught up in the beauty of the flow trail and figured the clouds would win the day.
We returned to the top to see a dark cloud smothering the sun. And then? Well, then either my imagination or my intuition took over.
Were the clouds hiding the event, or were they revealing the eclipse in another manner?
We watched as the light transported the clouds into a curtain, sliding to the side as the sunlight reappeared.
The clouds enhanced the shadow as the moon moved back away.
Oh sure, we missed the ring of fire, but watched witnessed a fresh perspective of another Mother Nature marvel.
