Friday night when leaving the bar after a great night of live country music with friends, I saw the brightest full moon I could ever remember. I had read earlier in the day about the so-called Super-moon. A Super-moon is the coincidence of a full moon or a new moon with the closest approach the Moon makes to the Earth on its elliptical orbit, resulting in the largest apparent size of the moon as seen from Earth. The technical name is the perigee-syzygy.
Super Moon
As the early morning sunrise peaked into my bedroom window Saturday morning, I pondered the day ahead. Some minor truck repairs and maybe an evening fishing the local creek were in store for the day. Then I got to thinking. (Yep, dangerous stuff I know)
The highest point in the State of Maryland just so happens to reside on our rod and gun club’s property in Garret County, MD. If I set up camp close to Hoye-Crest, the highest point in Maryland, and the moon is at its closest to the earth, then we would be the closest you could possibly be to the moon and still be in Maryland. (Hey, don’t blame me, its’ just how my brain is wired. I’ve just learned to embrace the weirdness. And go with it)
The girlfriend and I quickly assessed the camping gear status, loaded the cooler with drinks and food, topped the truck’s fuel tank and before the sun reached high noon pointed the truck west. Hoye-Crest was our destination.
Hoye-Crest
Hoye-Crest is a summit along Backbone Mountain bordering West Virginia on the southern edge of Garrett County, Maryland. It is the highest natural point in Maryland at an elevation of 3,360 feet. The location was named for Captain Charles Hoye, founder of the Garrett County Historical Society. A sign pronounces your arrival. A mailbox houses a registry and a large stone stack awaits your added stone. From atop, the view of the North Branch Potomac River valley to southeast looks over a reclaimed strip mine and resembles a scene more akin to that of more western states with its open meadows and sporadic pine trees surrounded by wooded mountain sides.
For most people, the location is accessible via a path leading from U.S. Route 219 about 20 minutes south of Oakland. But the select few who happen to be members of the Beechwood Rod and Gun club, our access comes from the south. The state line and high point mark our lease boundary.
We arrive at our destination on foot. The jeep trails of the property come close, but not close enough. In the long late afternoon shadows, we gaze from atop Backbone Mountain, overlooking the valley that begins the Potomac River. Accessing camp possibilities, we quickly realized here on the tippy top may not be the best choice for the best view of the coming super moon. The open fields below would provide a better view.
We were still setting up camp when the moon first came into view. I dropped the cooking task at hand and ran for my camera and tripod. The new arriving moon radiated a yellow glow reflecting the recently set sun. Pine trees bordered the bottom of the moon. A few long narrow clouds faded along the top of the moon. It was a beautiful scene. A real winner photograph if ever there was one. And I missed it. Well, the capturing it on film part anyhow.
A Dead Camera Battery Kept Me From Taking the Shot a Few Minutes Earlier.
The moon lit the night as we finished setting camp. We ate our late dinner by moon light with no need for headlamps.
After dinner, we sat in our dollar store fold up chairs, holding our red solo cups filled with an inexpensive local wine, watching the moon slowly make its way across the southern sky. Our accommodations for the night may have been a weather worn tent. The truck that brought us here may have seen twenty years and over 225,000 miles. Dinner may have been hot dogs and beans cooked on a dented up old camp stove. But as the moon shadows marked the night, we toasted to the two people closest to the moon in the state of Maryland.
I’ll take last minute road trips and unexpected journeys over pretty new stuff any day.
