StarLog - August 23, 2025

A Trip to Dominey Observatory

Last night, our astronomy club had access to Sam Houston State University's Dominey Observatory for a private star party. Warren was kind enough to let me travel with him, so I wouldn't have to drive home in the dark. My eyes have a hard time with headlight glare from oncoming traffic.

The evening began with a meal at the City Hall Café in Huntsville. Nine club members joined up for the dinner, as well as two people from SHSU: Joel Walker, the Department Chair for High Energy Theory, Collider and Neutrino Phenomenology; and Mike Prokosch, the Public Outreach Director.

The tables were pushed together to form a long line, which made it difficult to converse with those at the far end, so we broke off into smaller conversations. While waiting for our food, I noticed the restaurant had road signs on the walls indicating direction. Facing a wall labeled "North," I jokingly told Warren that if he wanted to polar align, this was his chance. He laughed and pulled out his polar alignment app on his phone, and to our surprise, the sign was indeed pointed quite close to actual north. He then pointed to a light fixture near the sign and said that must be Polaris. Knowing our latitude was 30 degrees, I held my fist at arm's length, which represents about 10 degrees, and placed it on top of itself three times. The light fixture proved to be remarkably close to our latitude from where we were sitting.

After dinner, we proceeded to travel the 8-mile trip to the observatory. A few other club members joined up with us there. The skies had been cloudy all day, but now that sunset was approaching, many of the clouds had luckily left the area to find someone else to pester.

The observatory location is rated at Bortle 4, a significant improvement over my usual Bortle 7-8 driveway. Mike pointed out a brass telescope sitting in one corner of the observatory. It was an Alvan Clark refractor, purchased by the university back in 1844, one of the few remaining that still has the original tripod, due to many getting mounted on piers in various observatories.

But the star of the show tonight was the Planewave CDK700 - 28 inches of aperture in a beautiful black and white frame. It has a unique mirror setup which allows the telescope to come to focus along its altitude axis. This allowed them to install a camera on one side of the fork mount and a dual inverted telescope style of periscope on the other side of the fork mount, to allow the eyepiece to always be at a certain elevation, regardless of the telescope's position, which is perfect for allowing someone in a wheelchair to look through the eyepiece. With the dual light paths in the telescope, this also means that the operator can alternate between visual and camera with a simple flip of a mirror via switch.

As the sky was still darkening, we started with something bright and easy. Albireo was the first object of the evening, a beautiful blue and yellow star pair in a background sea of stars.

Next up was M57, the Ring Nebula. A beautiful smoke ring drifting along in the void betrays its violent origin as an escaping shell of gas from a collapsing sun. With averted vision, the central, dying star would occasionally peek out.

The globular cluster M92 looked as large as M13 usually does in my 12-inch Dob, with spirals of stars that made it almost look like a face-on galaxy.

We also gave M51, the Whirlpool Galaxy, a good look. Even at its rather low altitude, some spiral structure was just barely visible in its arms.

The globular cluster M13, the Great Hercules Cluster, nearly filled the field of view. I have never seen the "propeller" feature within this globular and tonight proved to be no different. I was able to detect a few dark gaps here and there in the ball of stars, but nothing that reminded me of anything close to a propeller. Still, the view of it was amazing.

Next came M11, the Wild Duck cluster. Filling the field were hundreds of pinpoint suns, with one beautiful orange giant star offset from the center. Gorgeous!

We also put the scope on M20, the Trifid Nebula. The red emission nebula lobe was clearly visible in the eyepiece as a dim grey cloud surrounding a double star. The reflection nebula lobe was much harder to detect, and could only be faintly seen with averted vision. If I didn't know where and what to look for, I probably would have missed it completely. Still, I was amazed we could see it at all unfiltered. At home, I usually have to use an O-III filter to even have a chance at seeing it.

The globular cluster M22 was low in the southern sky, but sill high enough for the big scope to make a try at it. It didn’t disappoint. A large oval of tightly packed stars filled the view. The stars seemed to be more uniformly distributed throughout the oval instead of concentrated more at the very center, as is the case with most globular clusters.

Finally, we put the scope on a celestial double feature: NGC-6522 and NGC-6528. Two beautiful, but distant globular clusters that can barely fit in the same field of view. Although NGC 6522 was bigger, it was also a little less dense and was more difficult to see. NGC 6528, on the other hand, was small, but fairly bright and obvious. Seeing them together at the same time was a nice treat.

I made sure to capture a few photos of the occasion. The low light proved to be a challenge for my phone's camera since I had left my tripod behind, but I was able to get a few passable ones of the observatory and the night sky. The Sagittarius "Teapot," which points toward the galactic center, was clearly visible above the dome. I do apologize for the quality, as my phone recently updated and I didn't realize it had reset my options to save in RAW format.

We also had our newest club member, Bethany, join us at the observatory. I caught an image of her looking through the eyepiece, with her face capturing some of the joy and awe we all felt.

Other than the outstanding views, one of the best parts of the night for me, however, was a conversation we had about our favorite "wow" moments with the public. We all agreed that a "wow" from an adult is far more rewarding than from a child, as it comes from a place of profound humility.

Mike shared a story that served as a perfect example of this. He mentioned an elderly gentleman who, despite needing assistance to climb the 8-10 steps to the observing platform, made his way to the telescope for a public event. When it was his turn to look at Jupiter, he didn't know how to position his eye. Mike, seeing the beam of light from Jupiter in the eyepiece shining on the man's cheek, was able to guide his head until the beam fell on his retina. The man just sat there for a minute and then said, "Whoa!" After his turn was over, he got back in line for a second look. By then, most of the line had wandered off, and Mike saw the man standing there for a third peek. When asked how he got up the stairs by himself, the man just grinned and said he "made a way." An elevator has since been installed to help people like him reach the telescope.

Warren and I headed back home around 11pm. Since moving into my light-polluted neighborhood a decade ago, my limited sky has forced my personal focus to be more on simple astrophotography techniques than on visual observing. My camera could pick up objects and details that I haven’t seen since living back in Kansas. But seeing these objects tonight through the eyepiece reminded me again of just how rewarding visual astronomy can be.