My wife Jan and I woke to our alarm, set at 5:30 a.m. on Monday, to avoid the expected traffic.  As it turned out, though, after we passed Gainesville taking the route of US 129/19 over the mountains toward Vogel State Park, we encountered very little.  Stopping at the Blairsville Ingles, we spoke with friendly locals about the coming event.  No hysteria there; though later we read the road signs leading into North Carolina and preemptively warning of especially heavy traffic.  We saw none.

Exiting 515/69 in North Carolina we noticed an enterprising young man manning a large mowed field with rented Port-O-Johns, apparently expecting to make some extra cash by charging for parking--but no customers.

At the TVA campsite near the west side of Lake Chatuge dam, there were no cars.  We witnessed a couple launching their kayaks, but very little other activity as we had our lunch before walking the ~half mile to the west side of the dam.  Other than a few visitors and some locals taking their morning constitutional across the dam, it seemed like a normal day.  Later, a couple with photographic equipment and then a Muslim family joined our collection, and just before the eclipse, a mother, grandmother, and several enthusiastic children came with chairs and gear.

Jan and I found a shady spot and set up our lawn chairs to wait for the grand event.  There were a few high cumulus clouds, but these moved to the horizon as the time approached.  Around 1:15 p.m. someone signaled that the eclipse was beginning.  As the moon began to cover the sun and the atmosphere noticeably cooled, we noticed very little apparent difference in the ambient brightness as our eyes must have adjusted to the reduced luminosity.  Seconds before the total eclipse (~2:40pm), our space began to darken, except for the distant light on the horizon.  The local light acquired a bluish hue because of the greater temperature of the corona, we were told.  For about two minutes there was calmness over the waters, a cooling of the air, a beautiful blue hue of the light coming from the blocked sun, and a post-twilight darkness that made the experience seem almost spiritual.  On the other side of the dam some enthusiasts began honking their car horns.  When the rays of the sun began to return, most left in hopes of beating the return traffic, but Jan and I stayed awhile thinking how magnificent it was that the orbits and motions that had begun over three billion years ago, and accurately calculated by modern-day astronomers, were able to produce this magnificent light-and-shadow show across the US and, fortunately for us, in North Carolina and North Georgia.

As we left ~45 minutes later, we passed the young man in the field beside the Port-O-Johns, thinking he probably didn't recover his investment. Unfortunately, we didn't think to stop to leave a donation to reward his enterprising efforts.

--Ron Abercrombie