This is an informal account of an attempt to make the most of a rare event by delayed planning (or lack of), satisfying impulsive urges more suitable to youthful minds and endeavors, and looking for an excuse to accumulate miles in short order.

I heard about the impending great total solar eclipse of 2017 in January. I thought that would be something worth seeing.

In April, after seeing something about the eclipse again, my memory was jogged, and I thought I better start planning. After all, the event was just four months away.

Science guy that I am, and former NASA employee, I knew of Fred Espenak, or “Mr. Eclipse” at NASA, and I started my research by seeing if he had set up a website to help the public with eclipse-related activities. Sure enough, he had: www.mreclipse.com.

Clicking over any point on Espenak’s map presented the coordinates and the exact start and stop times of totality. I saw the path extended across the entire United States, so deciding where to view it would require some thought.

From experience, I was familiar with climate records and maps produced by the government. I found the area least likely to have clouds at midday in August was in Wyoming. I narrowed my choice of sites to the Wind River Indian Reservation, just east of the Grand Tetons.

I started contacting every motel and campground within a 100-mile radius. I should have expected what I found. Every available room and campsite was booked anywhere near the path of totality, some as many as five years prior! After about 30 dead-end calls, I broadened by search area to include the city of Casper, Wyo., to find only one room available at $500 a night. I politely declined.

I thought if I had to ride a few hours in the morning to get to my intended viewing location, I could look out another 100 miles from the centerline. Bingo, I found a cabin available for $75 a night in Buffalo, Wyo., a few hours north of the reservation. I booked it. I would stay there the night before and the night after the eclipse, and enjoy a couple four-hour rides across the Big Horn Mountains in between.

Getting my 2012 Road King Classic ready meant getting my 20,000-mile scheduled maintenance done before leaving, along with a fresh front tire. I threw on a new wheel, to boot.

The Trip

I left my home in Hampstead, Md., on Wednesday morning, planning to arrive in Buffalo on Sunday afternoon.

After an early breakfast, I plugged in my destination Casper, Wyo., to Google Maps, set the options to avoid highways and pointed the bike west.

I took familiar back roads through Thurmont and Catoctin Mountain State Park. I got on U.S. 40 just east of an Appalachian Trail head near South Mountain and pulled into the parking lot to rest and put something in my stomach. Realizing that, at the rate I was going, I would have to put in some serious time on the Interstate to reach Wyoming before Monday, I hopped over to I-70 and I-68, so I could at least do Sidling Hill while putting some miles behind me.

Once in West Virginia, I hankered for some more back roads and followed State Route 26 down to State Route 72, which follows the Cheat River for quite a way. That road was a first for me and a real treat. Dense woods kept the sun off me and the river kept the air cool, while lots of switchbacks, elevation changes, and scenic river views kept me entertained.

I hooked up to U.S. 50 and headed west again, crossing the Ohio River, then called it a day in Athens, Ohio.

Day 2

I took Ohio 56 northwest to hook up with I-70 to make some more time. As the sun started getting low, I checked into a motel in Havana, Ill.

Before dinner, I checked my voicemail. My friend Tom’s wife, Mary, had left a message. Tom was a physicist, but was getting up in age. Mary told me he was in poor health and in assisted living. But they decided that, since this might be his last chance to see a total eclipse, they started looking for a room along the centerline of totality and found one in Dubois, Wyo.

She was going to pull him and his walker from assisted living and drive him there herself. Dubois was the closest town to my No. 1 targeted viewing site. What a coincidence.

I told her what I was planning and said I would call just prior to arrival. I planned to see them in Dubois on Sunday. With the extra incentive to arrive early, I called the cabin in Buffalo to see if they could accommodate me on Saturday night and cancel my Monday night reservation. They could.

Day 3

Knowing the next several hundred miles would be mostly flat corn fields and stockyards, I decided I would spend most of my time on the interstate. I followed U.S. 24 to I-272, crossing the Mississippi River into Hannibal, Mo. From there, I took U.S. 36 across Missouri to Saint Joseph, then I-29 north into Nebraska, picking up State Route 2 into Lincoln.

There I hit a motherlode of traffic, backed up for miles before I could pick up I-80, where I was able to admire all that corn at 75 mph. I pulled off at North Platte to eat and spend the night.

Day 4

I continued my I-80 stretch through Nebraska until I reached Ogallala, where I stopped to gas up and then head northwest on U.S. 26. I was slowly climbing in elevation and getting into chaparral country, with some stunning vistas overlooking McConaughy Lake north and east of the highway. As soon as I crossed the border into Wyoming, the speed limit increased to 75, and the fuel stations had premium gas, 94 octane, with zero ethanol. Yeehah!

The posted speed limit was 80 mph, and I didn’t feel the need to go much faster. I made it into Buffalo after eight or nine hours.

Day 5

With the anticipation of the next couple days, I woke up about 4 a.m., showered, packed and headed into downtown Buffalo to search for a gas station and some breakfast.

Before sunrise, I was heading out of town on U.S. 16 into the Big Horn Mountain range. As I climbed in elevation, I started to feel chilly and just as the sun breached the horizon, I stopped to put on long underwear and a long-sleeved tee. Then my hands and feet started to get cold. I was stopping every 15 minutes to thaw my hands.

But before the sun was high enough to really warm up the landscape, I was through the pass and headed down the west side of the range, in the shadow of the peaks.

When I exited the canyon, I came upon the quaint little town of Ten Sleep, Wyo., which got its name by being 10 sleeps (nights) between the Great Sioux Camps and the Platte River and the northern camp located near Bridger, Mont. The area is full of history and is recognized as being the site of many historic battlegrounds.

Now on U.S. 26 and back on a flat and straight, high-speed highway, I let Google Maps take me on back roads around the traffic congestion in Riverton, a major cross-roads, and had pretty smooth sailing the rest of the way.

From Buffalo, it was about 250 miles to Dubois. I quickly spotted the Trail’s End Motel and pulled in front of the office. I chatted with the proprietor about my friends Tom and Mary, and he told me they were out.

I mentioned that I was staying in Buffalo, because I waited so long to book a room and asked about a vacancy at his place. He asked what I was paying for the room in Buffalo. He said he would have to charge me at least four times that, and only if I paid cash. I considered the 5-1/2 hour ride back to Buffalo, at night, in the shivering cold. I pulled three Franklins out and said I would take it. This was a once in a lifetime event, so I wasn’t going to be too thrifty about it.

The Eclipse

The first thing in the morning after I woke up was to find some coffee and breakfast. The town only extended about a mile along U.S. 26, so I set out on foot. A nearby convenience store had the coffee, but the restaurant next to my motel was closed and roped off for the day. Locals said they wanted their employees to be able to watch the eclipse.

I found a hearty breakfast at the Coyote Blue Coffee and Deli just around a bend in the road. My next task was to get some food and drink for a picnic lunch for the eclipse viewing. I stocked up on cheese, crackers, nuts, fruit, summer sausage and other such finger foods we could enjoy.

As soon as I returned to the motel, I knocked on Tom’s door. Mary suggested we get a table on the deck right away to make sure we had seats. I went back to my room and retrieved the supplies, including my binoculars, camera and solar glasses.

By 10 a.m., we had all assembled and socialized while waiting for the eclipse to begin about 10:18 local time.

The few scattered clouds quickly dissipated. Excitement grew. No one in our group had seen a total eclipse before.

When the diamond ring appeared and then disappeared, we all removed our filter glasses in awe at the sight before us. The solar corona was magnificent, and three or four bright orange prominences appeared around the edge of the moon, one of them clearly a horseshoe-shaped loop that one sees in textbooks about the sun.

Venus and Mercury appeared bright and close, on opposite sides of the sun. Other bright stars appeared in the sky. It was not as dark as I had anticipated, but it was dark enough that the temperature immediately dropped about 20 degrees.

I attempted to take a couple photos with both my cell phone as well as my pocket zoom camera, but both were overexposed. Rather than fiddle around trying to find a setting on my camera that might work, I instead grabbed my binoculars and removed the solar filter for some close-up views of the spectacle.

It was good for getting a better view of the prominences, but the corona was better taken in by naked eye, as it extended far beyond the field of view of the binoculars.

Very otherworldly.

Before we knew it, the diamond appeared on the opposite side from whence it disappeared, signaling it was time to put the filters on our eyes.

We partied until nap time, then had dinner. We lingered until well after dark, enjoying the wine and good company, knowing it might be the last time Tom and I could get together

Headed Home

The morning after the eclipse, I pointed my bike east. I had a business meeting to attend to on Wednesday near Denver. And I planned to stop on the way home to visit my son in Bloomington, Ind.

Shortly after leaving Casper, civilization almost disappeared, except for the road itself, and I passed a sign indicating the next gas station was 100 miles away. The scenery and road were beautiful all afternoon with expansive rolling hills of chaparral and desert, an occasional ranch and other vehicles on the road few and far between. I gobbled up about 430 miles in 9 hours, spending the night in Longmont, just north of Denver.

My meeting only lasted a couple of hours, then I was on my way again.

I didn’t feel like dawdling. I covered about 440 miles in 6-1/2 hours riding time on Day 8.

Eventually, I found myself heading east on Illinois 106 across the Illinois River and followed secondary roads through western Indiana. The speed limit was almost as high as the interstate, and there was no traffic. The scenery was much nicer, and the pace seemed more relaxed.

I pulled into Bloomington around 5 p.m. and booked a room. I had traveled a leisurely 275 miles on Day 10.

The next day, I followed Indiana Route 46 out of Bloomington. In Columbus, Ind., I picked up State Route 7, which took me to North Vernon, where I picked up U.S. 50.

I made it to Morgantown, W.Va, just after sunset and found the cheapest motel in town. I covered about 435 miles on Day 11.

The next morning, I only had a little more than 200 miles to make it home around 11 a.m. I was really glad when the dogs recognized me and were, apparently, happy to see me.

The trip covered just over 4,700 miles. Not enough to have to change the rear tire yet, so I can put that other new wheel on to match the one I put on the front before the trip. I need to find an excuse to take another long trip. Until then, I’ll keep busting my knuckles checking the air in that back tire.

Geary Schwemmer is an AMA member from Hampstead, Md.