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Space Shuttle Launch January 16, 2003 When we departed 7 months ago there were a number of places Betsy and I wanted to visit - places each of us had always dreamed of. For Betsy there was Grand Tetons National Park. For me there was the leaves turning in Vermont and New Hampshire. For Betsy there was the South Dakota Badlands. And for me, there was Kennedy Space Center and a live Space Shuttle launch. That dream was satisfied last week. And almost shockingly, it lived up to the build up. We woke up on launch day at 3:30am. No, it wasn’t like Christmas morning when I was 6 years old and couldn’t sleep for the excitement - we actually were told by NASA to arrive between 4 and 5 am. You can imagine this was not an easy task for either of us, but we managed well enough. After a short drive and better than one hour to park at the remote parking lot (our only choice, given tightened security for launches), we were on our way to the Space Center. Here’s where I need to pause to thank my loving and wise wife. She convinced me to suppress my stingy traveler nature and buy the tickets to go onsite at Kennedy Space Center to view the launch. This made all the difference. We were approximately 6 miles from the launch pad -- 5 to 10 miles closer than anyone who did not purchase these limited-availability tickets (although we were able to buy them within one week of launch). We could even see the Space Shuttle sitting on the launch pad (through pretty powerful binoculars). If you hold your thumb in front of you at arms length, your thumbnail is the approximate size of the shuttle through the 20x magnification binoculars. To be completely honest, I was still in awe. To go the extra mile, Betsy even convinced me to purchase the tickets that included “Breakfast with an Astronaut”. Well, it wasn’t like Storey Musgrave was sitting at our table providing RV tips from his shuttle experience, but we did have an enjoyable time listening to this person who’s obviously lived a very full life, from boyhood farm in the middle of nowhere, to mechanic, to experimental pilot, to emergency room surgeon, to shuttle commander. His many insights on space, life and motivation were mostly quite inspiring to me. Following breakfast we took the bus to the viewing site and settled in to a spot with a view of the shuttle on the platform. The hour to launch flew by for me. Taking pictures, wandering around looking for the best spot to watch the launch, looking at the shuttle and other buildings through binoculars, talking to others who would be taking launch pictures using better cameras with huge zoom lenses (and asking for them to e-mail me their photos), people watching, bird/fish/dolphin watching, reviewing the shuttle program (“Programs! Get your programs! Can’t tell the astronauts without a program!”), double and triple checking my camera, annoying Betsy with my excited nervousness. Good time had by all. The launch itself came up fast. 10..9..8..7.. ”we have main engine start” ..5..4..3.. (white steam/smoke clouds that seem huge all around the platform) ..2..1.. “we have main ignition and liftoff of the Space Shuttle Columbia” ... immense white, beyond-any-expectation, massive huge pretty-darn-big clouds of white all around the platform and immediately enveloping it. And rising out of it all, the largest, brightest light from such a long distance I’ve ever seen next to the sun. The enormity of the moment was surrounding Betsy and me - we both freely admit to welling up. The weight and excitement and numbing intensity of the moment was more than we ever expected. And then came the sound - which matched the enormity of the view. Low, rumbling, heart-shaking waves of bass. I guess there was a sonic “boom” in there somewhere, as the incredible acceleration took the shuttle up to over 4000 miles per hour, but over the all-encompasing noise that was already present, I never recognized it. The shuttle was out of binocular view within 2 minutes -- doing some basic math, I think this means it was at least 100 miles away in that amount of time. Incredible. We were able to see the 2 booster rockets slide away gracefully from the shuttle, and then all that remained was the massive cloud of smoke hanging above the pad and a slowly dissipating trail of smoke up into the sky. How could anything else in our touristing in Florida compare to any of this? Well, it can’t - at least not for me. Betsy would probably put up an argument for her scuba diving in the Keys. I could attempt to do the same, and fail, for our air boat ride in the Everglades. Air boats have been a sometimes latent desire of mine ever since seeing them on the Flipper TV show years ago (what Flipper was doing in the Everglades I have no idea). I’m sure most of you can picture them -- a massive fan on top of a flat-bottomed, very shallow boat, that glides over the top of the Everglade grasses. Powering that fan for our small boat was a Cadillac engine! To be able to be in the middle of some of the most inhospitable water/land in this entire country - and even better to be sitting high atop the bench about 6 feet above the water - and to be gliding over the grasses, sliding around side-swinging turns - I was thrilled. Despite all the thrill of the air boat ride, our 15-mile bike ride through Everglades National Park drove home exactly why we have these parks. The Shark River Valley biking/walking path through this National Park overflowed with wildlife -- birds, fish, and most apparent, alligators - while the private land directly across the road from the park, where we road the air boat, was nearly devoid of wildlife (that we were able to see). We are certain we biked past at least 10 species of abundant birds and no less than 100 alligators, most within 20 feet of us, some with 5 feet, with absolutely no barrier between us and them. I was shocked our litigation-happy nation would allow this situation, but apparently it’s all OK. Luckily, gators seem to be quite lazy. Everglades National Park merely added to the mountain of evidence we’ve experienced on our travels - our National Parks are our nation’s most inspiring natural assets. If only we could protect more of our land - or at least strike a better balance with commercial interests. In stark contrast to the verdant beauty of Florida, I’m writing this travelogue from the PASSENGER seat of Tiny, as Betsy drives us through western Texas, a vast desert of chopped-short mountain-like plateaus, and brown sticks waiting for spring rains to bring them back to life. Betsy has driven the past 100+ miles, as I’ve kicked my feet up and written you. And as I close, the MP3 player has randomly queued up the Indigo Girls’ “Closer to Fine”, Tiny’s more formal name. Very appropriate. Life is good.
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