One more image for your collections.   It is a composite, because the Sun was
overexposed in the frame showing the tree silhouette from Waterford Michigan.
Canon EOS 10D, Questar 700mm, no filter.

Feel free to reduce the brightness of this to your taste.   I had to lighten it for my printer.

Enjoy!
Dan Laszlo
Pres.-NCAS
Venus Transit, June 8 2004     from Dan Laszlo

His story follows:

 The months before the transit of Venus were good for suspense.  A sunrise view could be found in
the Eastern US, if the fickle weather would hold.  Travel North and East would give the longest view.
Florida would give a relatively short show.  The Maritime Provinces would be fun to explore, but unfamiliar
and dicey for a trip on short notice.  I had fine memories of sunrises on Cape Hatteras, but Iíve been
soaked in a downpour there.  I cringed as the weather satellites plotted frontal systems that blanketed the
coast from Maine to the Carolinas.  I really started paying attention to the forecast models in the week
before the event.  The large scale trends in clouds and humidity were not good for the Midwest or Northeast
or Southeast.  Moab, Utah, looked great, too bad it was out of the transit zone.  There were exceptions,
little windows in Michigan and New Jersey.  My brother kindly hosted us in his home near Detroit in the
weekend before the event.  We could make a last-day dash for a hole in the clouds if we had to.  As the
days wound down on the Clear Sky Clock. prospects for New England improved some, but I did not want
to risk getting clouded out.  Michigan looked about the best and would give us over an hour to watch.

We tapped my brother's knowledge of the neighborhood to find an uncluttered horizon.  This is a project
in leafy Michigan.  His first choice was a local ski hill, which had great vistas.  We would have to lug equipment
some distance, so we kept looking.  A nearby megamall by I-75 was our next best prospect.  No shortage of
parking, and pretty clear to the East, except for some power lines.  With this adequate site in mind, we looked
a little more for a site with a more unwired look.  The map showed a promising Bald Mountain Park.  Driving
by, we could not find the mountain.  Some gaps in the trees looked promising, so we went to the township office
there to confirm access to the park at 5 AM.  The township officer confirmed the lack of mountain. They needed
it somewhere else, so they scraped it off, it's just flat here now . . .  If you want a view without trees, Iíd use
Friendship Park.î  As he recommended, we found horizon we needed, surrounding a soccer complex.  It was a
short drive away, had acres of grass, and could be used early in the morning.  We scouted a site on a berm
along the west side of the park, and used a compass so line up on a cleft in the trees to the Northeast.  Ever the
pessimists about local clouds, we then drove up to Port Huron, to scout some sites on the beach.  There I was
reminded of the constant wind off the lake.  I would love the uncluttered horizon, but my scope would get a severe
case of jitters in any breeze.  We headed home with the soccer fields our first choice.

The weather models were still promising the night before.  An earlier indication favoring Northern Michigan
shifted south, so we should get our shot.  We turned in for a short nightís sleep.  Up at 4:30, a Last Quarter
Moon hung low in the South for our drive.  The NE horizon was lighting as we pulled up by the berm.  We were
able to glimpse Polaris to set up our mount.  We heard a faint hiss, and looked across the soccer fields to see
the pale arcs of the sprinkler system.  We were then out of spray, but I have vivid memories of getting doused
when a head pops up nearby.  It was a slight relief to be off to the edge of the field, but we remained prepared
to grab the scope and run.

We then had about half an hour to wait.  This is most unfamiliar.  Instead of a last minute dash for holes in the
clouds, we stood with the fields to ourselves as darkness lifted, the drone of Baldwin Avenue commuters behind
us.  The sprinkler march continued.  The time passed mercifully swiftly.

Our first hint of color came on a distant jet contrail.  It's coming, said Andrew, and the low clouds took more
shape, not a threat.  They picked up a few crimson streaks as the sky lightened.  We strained to catch the Sun's
disk in the trees, and I got my first peek in binoculars in the gap.  ìGot it!î  I could faintly see the shape through
the clouds, how long to make out Venus?  He swung the scope over and I peered in binoculars . . Oh, look at that!

Consciously, I had rehearsed the view dozens of times.  Sun comes up with a black speck on the disk.  I thought
the event might be anticlimactic.  Would I second-guess the trip?

Well, no!  We had an intensely red, banded Sun.  The spot was peculiar, so unlike a giant sunspot.  The inky,
perfectly round spot on the flattened Sun was somehow familiar . . . it immediately called up memories of Jupiter
shadow transits.  Clouds striping the Sun reinforced the illusion.  I felt I was standing on a tropical moon, getting
a closeup view of a Jovian world through the trees.  Truly unearthly.  These minutes were the best.

Before long, the gas giant was clear of the trees and punched through the clouds, and the time to see it unfiltered
was over.  Our H-alpha scope was barely useable earlier, but was getting adequate light after about a half hour.
Venus was the perfect little black disk.  Totally out of place among the wispy solar features.  The solar disk had
several decent little prominences and an active region on the disk not far from Venus.  The white light view was
also worthwhile, especially when Venus lined up on the Sunís rim at third contact.  The size difference was then
brought home.  In a solar eclipse, the Moon challenges the Sun.  With Venus, reality came home, a star is a
massive thing..  The pace of the transit was restful, compared to the scramble during a total solar eclipse.
 We got a selection of photos, but observed directly from 3rd to 4th contacts, looking for the black drop in rippling air.
We watched for the last hint of Venus by the chromosphere.  We did not look for Venusí atmosphere, guessing that
our air was too turbulent to show it.  We also took great pleasure as the sprinkler system passed us by without a drop.

Mistakes were made.  I stupidly did not switch the camera sensitivity to high, so we ended up with some really long
exposures, especially in H-alpha.  Should I take an ND3 Baader film next time? Would have been great for the
low Sun.  Did we get mosquito bitten?  Could have been much worse.

But, that was great!  I now have new appreciation for sunrise/sunset events.  Turbulent air will take some toll on the
details, but the twilight hour is so unique.  Would I travel just to see the transit overhead around noon next time?
And miss the sunset?  I think not!

We wrapped up our morning by Great Lakes Crossing when we found a local amateur group from McMath-Hulbert
Observatory.  We got a fine tour of this pioneering solar observatory.
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