CAMPER'S COMPANION EXHIBIT


Star Gazing

Astronomy 101


Being in the backcountry changes your nightlife dramatically. You're a million light years from Main Street, far beyond the reach of the entertainment section, even if you could read it in the failing light. Dinner has been cleaned up and the evening fishing is over; the wind dies down and the clouds disappear. A chill slides into the air. Time for parkas and wool hats, a fire, maybe a ghost story or the lament of a harmonica. You can try to read until the flashlight begins to flicker. You can follow Ben Franklin's "early-to-bed" advice. Or you can stroll down by the lake and watch the moon rise. It's never too late for another cup of hot chocolate and brandy. But in the end, eyes invariably drift upwards toward the Great White Way--the stars in the nighttime sky.

You start to look for the Big Dipper, maybe Scorpio or the Pleiades. Though this is where most non-stargazers' knowledge of the sky ends, we've found that almost everyone has a natural curiosity about the stars and their groupings. If you've packed in a star chart, you'll almost certainly reach for it and try to distinguish Cygnus, the giant swan, from Draco, the great dragon. If you don't have a chart, or have never studied the stars, this chapter will introduce you to one of the greatest pleasures of long summer nights, that of stargazing.

It's an exciting, challenging process to identify planets and constellations. It takes concentration and some patience. Like anything else, the more often you try, the easier and more familiar it gets. At first, however, you're lying on your back, staring into a giant half-dome but the star map is flat, distorting the sky in order to get it down on paper. Also, the sky moves as the earth rotates, so what you see at 7 p.m. will not be the same as what you see at 2 or 3 a.m. The stars also change with the seasons; June's sky is not the same as September's. Trees, clouds and mountains can block your view. A bright moon obscures many stars in its part of the sky. Nonetheless, with a little time and effort, you can slowly find planets, sort out constellations, even identify individual stars. And while you're at it, you're bound to see flashes of shooting stars, blinking satellites, high-flying aircraft and, depending how far north you are, maybe even a glimpse of the aurora borealis--the northern lights.

Star charts throw half the sky at you at once, far too many stars to see or sort out. In this chapter, we show you one small section of the sky at a time. We describe each with pictures, instructions and stories. But before you begin, it's good to know a little basic astronomy.

Astronomy 101

Everything—the moon, Earth and planets, sun and stars—is moving in space. Astronomical distances are so great, however, that aside from shooting stars, nothing seems to move very fast or very much. Most of the "motion" you observe during the night (or day) is the result of Earth turning. If you picture a spinning ball inside a stationary, star-speckled globe, you'll begin to get the picture. But, from an observational viewpoint, it appears as if all the heavenly bodies do move across the sky. So for expedience's sake, we'll refer to the sun, moon and constellations as the moving entities.

Only the star that happens to sit above the North Pole appears not to move as Earth turns; all the rest do appear to move. During the daytime, the sun moves across the midsection of the sky from east to west. During the night, the moon follows a similar path. Trace the same arc that the sun and moon describe across the sky and look for very bright stars: the brightest ones are probably planets. The sun, moon and planets are close to being on the same plane, which paints a wide stripe inside our star-studded globe. They spin in circles, but they travel across the sky within that stripe.

Divide that stripe into 12 pieces and you have the 12 "houses" of the zodiac. Each house refers to a specific group of stars, or a constellation. Ancient astronomers used these 12 houses to keep track of the seasonal and relative positions of the sun, moon and planets, which appear to be stationed "in front" of any given house at any time of month or year. The naked eye may trick you into thinking that the sun, moon and planets are traveling in a high arc "overhead" while the zodiac is on the horizon, but they are all in that wide stripe running round the equator, just about in the same plane.

It takes the stars in a constellation many millions of years to move in relation to one another. To us, it appears as if they never change position (even though the constellation itself appears to move during the night, due to the spinning of Earth). The sun, moon and planets do move very slowly against the backdrop of the zodiac constellations. It takes the sun a year to travel slowly through the 12 houses of the zodiac, remaining in each zodiacal house for a month. The moon travels the same path in only a month, and is in each house for three or four days, though even this short passage of time across the constellations is too slow for our eyes to see. On any night, the moon seems locked into its zodiacal house. However fast it seems to rise and set, it never seems to leave "home." What's happening is that the whole nighttime sky, with the moon in front of a zodiac constellation, is moving overhead during the night. Saying that the moon is in Virgo means the moon is in that section of the sky occupied by the constellation Virgo. If the sun is in Scorpio, then Scorpio is behind the sun during the day. During an eclipse of the sun, the stars of Scorpio would be visible in that section of the sky.

Of course, you don't need to know any of this to enjoy the night sky. If you couldn't care less that the Mars Bar overhead is really the Milky Way, then make up your own constellations. Rewrite the sky! If, on the other hand, you'd like to get a handle on the "classic" sky, the rest of this chapter shows you how. We'll tell you where the constellations are, what they look like, and how to find them.

Go slow at first. The constellations won't go away. If you find one star group a night, you'll be doing well, and the odds are strong that you'll never forget where it is. Tomorrow night it may be in a slightly different place, but not by much. With a little practice, you'll spot it in September as easily as in July, at 11:00 as well as at 9:00.

We start you off with the major constellations--the easy, circumpolar ones, which revolve in a tight ring around the North Star. Then we proceed to describe the smaller, more distant, and more difficult or obscure ones.

We use several arbitrary devices to clarify directions and relationships between and among the constellations. First, compass directions (east, southwest, etc.) refer to the earthly horizon. Thus if you're lying on your back looking at the North Star and we send you southwest toward a constellation, trace the direction as you would on a compass: toward southwest on the ground. This may sound obvious, but it isn't when you realize that all stars are located literally south of the North Star. Secondly, we assume in our directions that you're facing the sky, holding your star map above you—looking up at it—and that it's oriented correctly toward the earthly horizon. Thirdly, we show you the sky at a theoretical 9 p.m. To figure out where things are earlier, turn your star map clockwise; later, turn it counterclockwise. A good star map or chart will allow you to adjust for the month. Our theoretical June should not upset your own calculations, whatever the time of year.

Ursa Major (Big Dipper), Ursa Minor (Little Dipper), Draco (Dragon)

Almost everyone can locate the Big Dipper: seven bright stars, visible even in the city, a clear constellation in winter as well as in summer. Draw a line through the two stars on the end of the Big Dipper's bowl, then follow that line three times its length to reach Polaris, the North Star. During the night, all the other stars in the sky will seem to move, while the North Star will remain in place. You can check that you have the right star with your compass, as long as you realize that magnetic north, toward which your compass needle points, is not quite the same as true north, where Polaris sits.

The Big Dipper is actually the hind quarters and tail of Ursa Major, the Big Bear. If you look closely, you can find the bear's paws and outline, but it's not easy. Housatonic Indians saw the four bowl stars as a bear and the three handle stars as a hunter with two dogs in pursuit. The middle handle star is really a double star; the hunter carried a pot in which to cook the bear. The hunter chased the bear from spring until autumn, and when the animal was wounded in the fall, its blood was visible in the leaves of the forest.

For centuries, the Big Dipper has guided people to the North Star which, seemingly "fixed" in the sky, has in turn guided mariners and land navigators in their travels. The North Star acts as the tip of the handle of the seven-star Little Dipper, also known as Ursa Minor. The Persians saw the Little Dipper as a date palm. It was a jackal in Egypt. Ancient Norsemen called it the "Hill of Heaven," abode of the guardian of the rainbow bridge connecting heaven and earth. It really doesn't look much like a small bear.

Beginning between the North Star and the two "pointer" stars of the Big Dipper is a long winding string of stars that goes southeast around the Little Dipper, then back northwest, encircling the Little Dipper on three sides. Then it goes southwest again, ending in a rectangle of four stars. This is the constellation Draco, the Dragon. The Hindus saw it as an alligator and the Egyptians a crocodile. To the Greeks, it was the monster serpent killed by Hercules. Its teeth were sown on the earth to become a crop of armed men.

Cassiopeia, Cepheus

From the double star in the Big Dipper's handle, draw a line through Polaris. There, bend the line slightly to the right and keep going the same distance as from the pointers. You'll be in the middle of a five-star W-shaped constellation, Cassiopeia. Cassiopeia was the Queen of Ethiopia until she offended the sea nymphs, who bound her to this seat in the sky. The same five stars looked to the early Arabs like a giant hand, each one marking a fingertip.

Between Cassiopeia and Draco's head (the four-star rectangle), you'll find the five-star constellation Cepheus. It's not as bright as Cassiopeia or the Big Dipper. The Greeks saw it as the "sky father," King of Ethiopia and husband of Cassiopeia. It looks somewhat like a large, A-frame tent, pointing toward Polaris.

Lyra (Lyre), Cygnus (Swan) Hercules

A line from Polaris through the brightest star in the head of Draco points to Vega. Vega is one of the brightest stars in the sky, only 26 light years away, and part of the five-star constellation Lyra, the lyre or harp. It's said that this harp was invented by Hermes and given to his half-brother Apollo. The Arabs thought of the same constellation as a swooping Stone Eagle of the Desert, with half-closed wings tucked at its sides as it dove for a kill.

A line from Polaris through the brightest star of Cepheus (skirting the back of Cepheus' throne) goes to the star Deneb, the head of the giant swan Cygnus. Cygnus is a large cross in the sky, four bright stars long and three wide. It was known in Arabia as a giant bird called a "Roc" made famous by its conflicts with Sinbad the Sailor. Find the Milky Way stretching across the sky and you'll find Cygnus in full flight along it.

Finally, a line from Polaris skirting west of Draco's head takes you to Hercules. A four-star rectangle forms his body, with different numbers of stars for his arms, legs and weapons. The rectangle is the key to finding Hercules, but none of its stars are exceptionally bright. It's sometimes hard to find. It's usually nearly straight overhead on summer evenings. Moving from east to west, Cygnus, Lyra and Hercules are all about the same distance from the North Star.

Boötes (Herdsman), Corona Borealis (Northern Crown)

Follow the curve of the Big Dipper's handle away from the bowl. It leads to another very bright star, Arcturus. Stretching toward the North Star from Arcturus, in the shape of a kite or ice cream cone, is the constellation Boötes, the Herdsman. The kite shape is the body; the two legs meet at Arcturus. The Arabs called him the "Shepherd," with the idea that the stars around the North Pole resembled a flock of sheep, and he was always going in circles to herd them. He has also been seen as a hunter in pursuit of Ursa Major, the Great Bear.

Between Boötes and Hercules, about the same distance from Polaris, is a seven-star half-circle. This is Corona Borealis, or Northern Crown. To the Shawnee Indians, these seven stars were the "Celestial Sisters."

Aquila (Eagle), Delphinus (Dolphin), Ophiuchus (Serpent Holder), Serpens (Serpent)

A line from Polaris through the tail of Cygnus the Swan takes you to Altair, the bright head of the eagle Aquila. Altair is only 16 light years away, bright enough to be seen even through city smog. Aquila the Eagle, cruciform in shape, is about the same size as Cygnus, and it's easy to imagine Aquila chasing Cygnus along the Milky Way, always a little behind and to the east of its prey.

The Koreans saw Altair and its two bright neighbors not as the head and shoulders of an eagle, but as a prince and his servants, banished across the Milky Way by an irate father-in-law. The Prince's bride is our Lyra. Only once a year, on the seventh day of the seventh moon, could the two lovers meet by crossing a bridge of magpies over the Milky Way.

Just northeast of the eagle is Delphinus, the five-star dolphin. It's a small constellation on the edge of the Milky Way, on a direct line from Polaris through Deneb, the head of Cygnus.

A large area of the sky south of Hercules is taken up by a vague constellation, Ophiuchus and his two serpents, Serpens Caput and Serpens Cauda. The head of Serpens Caput is a bright triangle just south of the Corona Borealis (Northern Crown). The rest of the serpent stretches south, then east towards the Milky Way. The key to this constellation is figuring out what it is not. Once you find Hercules and Corona Borealis to the north and Scorpio to the south, you can find Ophiuchus with his two serpents in between.

In classical legend, Ophiuchus was the ship's surgeon for Jason and the Argonauts. He became so skilled that he could restore the dead to life. This caused Pluto to fear for his kingdom of the dead, and Ophiuchus was struck with a thunderbolt by Jove and placed among the constellations.

Virgo (Virgin), Leo (Lion)

Remember the pointer stars of the Big Dipper? If you point in the opposite direction from Polaris, past the bottom of the dipper, you come to the bright star Regulus, at the head of Leo. The lion's mane looks like a backward question mark running east and then north from Regulus, and a triangle of stars to the southeast represents the lion's back legs and tail. The Greeks called it the "Nemean Lion," placed in the heavens at the same time as Hercules, the lion's slayer.

Virgo is a dim constellation, difficult to find. Start with the Big Dipper's handle and follow it through Arcturus at the base of Boötes. The next bright star on that arc is Spica in the constellation Virgo. The constellation itself is shaped like a distorted Y, with Spica representing an ear of wheat in the maiden's left hand.

Pegasus (Horse), Andromeda

A line from Polaris passing just east of Cassiopeia goes to a large bright square of stars. The star in the northwest corner of the square is part of a small bright triangle. This is Pegasus, the horse. The square represents the horse's body; the triangle is the horse's rear legs. Pegasus is always near the horizon, "upside down" with its head away from Polaris. In classical mythology, Pegasus sprang from the blood of Medusa after she was slain by Perseus. Later, Bellerophon attempted to ride Pegasus to heaven, but Jupiter, incensed by such boldness, caused an insect to sting the horse. Pegasus threw his rider and then rose alone to his permanent place among the stars.

The bright triangle of stars at one corner of Pegasus is also the end of the constellation Andromeda, the Woman Chained. Alpheratz, the brightest star in the "Great Square" of Pegasus, is the last star in Andromeda. It's the meeting point for two lines of stars (four stars in each line) that represent Andromeda, the daughter of Cepheus and Cassiopeia, chained in exposure to the sea monsters as punishment for Cassiopeia's boasts of her own beauty.

Sagittarius (Archer), Scorpio (Scorpion), Libra (Scales)

These three zodiac constellations are usually close to the southern horizon. Sometimes you can't see them at all; sometimes you see only their northernmost stars. Remember that if Polaris is the head, the zodiac ring of constellations is a giant belt around the waist of the sky. As Earth tilts during seasonal changes and Polaris moves closer to the northern horizon, this ring moves up from the southern horizon. During the winter months, with Polaris higher in the sky, these constellations move below the horizon and cannot be seen.

Scorpio is the most spectacular. A line from Polaris through the Corona Borealis and on through the serpent's head on Ophiuchus passes through three very bright stars near the southern horizon. These are the head and the two claws of the scorpion. The rest of the scorpion's body winds south, through Antares, a bright star, and continues to a curlicue tail. Legend has it that this scorpion killed the hunter Orion. They were placed in the sky so that Orion, still fearful, sinks below the northern horizon as Scorpio rises in the south. Antares, the heart of the scorpion, was known to the Chinese as the "Fire Star."

Sagittarius follows Scorpio across the sky. Four stars represent a bow and arrow; another five are the archer's body. The arrow points towards Scorpio. Ancient Arabs saw this constellation as two sets of ostriches, passing to and from the celestial river of the Milky Way.

The four stars of Libra lie between Scorpio and Virgo, in a roughly rectangular shape. The Greeks considered these stars the claws of Scorpio. Later they became known as a separate constellation.

Perseus (Winged Warrior), Auriga (Charioteer)

Follow the Milky Way from Cygnus through Cassiopeia. The next constellation is Perseus, a warrior wearing winged sandals. He is holding the head of Medusa in his hand, which he later used to rescue Andromeda from the sea monsters. Perses, the son of Perseus and Andromeda, gave Persia its name. Algol, a bright star in Perseus, was called the "Demon's Head" by the Arabians.

Continuing along the Milky Way, from Cassiopeia through Perseus, you'll come to Auriga. It contains seven stars in a rough circle, including Capella, called the "Goat Star" in ancient Greece and the "Shepherd's Star" in Peru.

Taurus (Bull), Gemini (Twins), Cancer (Crab)

Follow the last three stars in Perseus away from Polaris and you see seven twinkling stars in a very small cluster. These are the Seven Sisters, the Pleiades (pronounced "Plee-a-dees"). They are also the shoulder of the bull, Taurus. The head of the bull is a bright star, Aldebaran, in the midst of another cluster, and the bull's horns extend into the Milky Way, nearly to Auriga.

Pleiades were seen by Australian aborigines as young girls playing music for dancing young men (Orion's belt). The Finns called this cluster a "little sieve." The second cluster next to Aldebaran, the bull's head, is called Hyades (pronounced "Hie-a-dees"). These were seen by the Greeks as half-sisters to the Pleiades. The whole of Taurus was seen as a bull with huge horns by ancient South American tribes, and as the jaw of an ox by natives in the Amazon region.

Gemini is a big rectangle. Two stars are inside the Milky Way, just beyond Auriga. The other end of the constellation consists of two bright stars, Castor and Pollux, the twins' heads. To the Phoenicians, the constellation represented two gazelles, to the Arabians, two peacocks. In India, it was seen as two horsemen.

Cancer is the most inconspicuous of the zodiac constellations. Its stars are so dim that it is impossible to see them close to a bright horizon. Cancer lies between Gemini and Leo and is roughly in the shape of an upside-down Y with its tail pointing toward the North Star. Greek myths say it is the crab that was crushed by Hercules in his contest with the Hydra, then raised to the sky by Juno. The Egyptians saw it as a scarab, the Chinese as a quail's head.

Triangulum, Aries (Ram), Pisces (Fish), Cetus (Whale)

A line from Polaris through the easternmost star in Cassiopeia takes you through the end of Andromeda's chain, then through a small three-star constellation, Triangulum, to one of the two bright stars in Aries, the ram. This ram was sacrificed after helping Phrixus escape the wrath of his stepmother, Ino. Its fleece was placed in the Grove of Ares (Mars), where it turned to gold and became the object of the Argonauts' quest.

Pisces, the fishes, is a huge V-shaped constellation stretching from one leg near Andromeda to a point south of Aries, then back along another long leg toward Aquarius. Most of the stars in Pisces are dim. Star finders are vague about its shape since it is usually "falling off" the edge of the map and badly distorted. It rarely comes above the horizon and what parts of it that do are usually obscured by mountains or trees since it is always so low in the sky. If you can see a fairly straight line of stars south of Pegasus, you've found half of Pisces.

Cetus, as large as Pisces and lower in the sky, is also rarely seen in the northern hemisphere. This is another huge, rambling constellation. The four stars in Cetus' head are just south of Aries. It represents a whale or sea monster, fabled to be the monster sent to devour chained Andromeda, but turned to stone at the sight of Medusa's head held in the hand of Perseus.

Aquarius (Waterbearer), Equuleus (Colt), Capricorn (Goat)

Follow the triangle of Pegasus (his head) to the south, and you come to Aquarius. The sun tends to be in Aquarius during the rainy season, hence the relationship with water. In Babylon, the constellation was an overflowing water jar, in ancient Arabia a well-bucket, and in Rome a peacock.

Capricorn, between Aquarius and Sagittarius, is generally depicted with the head and body of a goat ending in a fish's tail. It is another one that is tough to make out in the sky. The ancient Hindus saw it as an antelope. The Chinese considered it a bull.

Equuleus, the colt, is between Delphinus (Dolphin) and Pegasus on the north and Aquarius on the south. It is a small constellation (five stars), representing the brother of Pegasus.

Orion (Hunter), Canis Major (Greater Dog)

South of Taurus lies Orion, the hunter. It has three bright stars for a belt, and two more representing a sword. The tip of the sword is the star Rigel; Orion's head is the star Betelgeuse. Both are very bright. Orion can be seen from most of Earth, north and south, at one time of the year or other. Mythology holds that he was inflicted with a scorpion sting because of his boastfulness. Then he was placed in the sky in such a way that he could escape whenever his slayer, Scorpio, rose in the east.

Canis Major is a southern-sky constellation, just southeast of Orion. Sirius, its brightest star, lies just on the edge of the Milky Way. From the earliest times, it has been the dog of Orion, shown sitting up and watching his master. The Hindus knew it as the "Deer Slayer," who shot an arrow, which is our belt of Orion. The rest of Orion represented to them a prince, stopped by the arrow from pursuing his daughter, Aldebaran (the bright star in the head of Taurus).

The Great Horned Wyoming Jackalope and Other Do-It-Yourselfers

If you stand on your head, squeeze your eyes real tight, count to ten and don't pass out or fall asleep, you'll awaken to see the Great Horned Wyoming Jackalope. It's seen especially clearly when reflected in high Rocky Mountain lakes. If you happen to be in Northern California, you might see the Giant Hot Tub, with its pointer stars directing you to a local Zen master. And of course, twinkling through the smog of Southern California comes the Spiraling Red Camaro, complete with sooty black exhaust.

We've picked out everything from grapefruits to beer bottles in the sky, depending on our moods. Rather than getting all strung out making exact identifications, or getting frustrated by not seeing the shapes that the constellations are supposed to be, the important thing is to have fun with the process of discovering the stars. When asked what he liked most about backpacking, a five-year-old friend of ours replied, "I get to eat a lot of cookies and I can stay up as late as I want." On those nights that you stay up late, the stars can be enjoyable and agreeable companions, along with a slow-burning fire and some brandy and hot chocolate.

If you really do get turned on by all of this and want more information, see the suggested readings in the Booklist.

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