Once in a lifetime

Total Eclipse

11th August 1999, five years ago today, was a remarkable day, a once in a life time phenomenon that I will never forget. The event was the last total solar eclipse of the 20th century, there had not been one since 1927 and will not be another until 2090.

I had been desperate to witness this event but the only place in the UK to see the totality in it's full glory was the south of Cornwall. At the time I lived close to London and despite begging and pleading with my employer (the same one as currently) they would not allow me a day off.....let alone two to enable me to make the 800 or so mile round trip.

As I left work on the evening of 10th August my boss called me to his office and told me I could have the following day off.

Not to be put off by the logistics or practicalities we (myself and my ex) threw a few essentials into a tank bag, hastily called a friend who had expressed interest, arranged to meet him en route and called my brother who had ridden down a day previously with some friends and had already 'set up camp'. We leathered up and rode off into the dusk for Cornwall.

We traveled for perhaps 150 miles before the rain set in, stopped to put on the obligatory waterproof gear, have a coffee and something to eat and carried on our journey. As we began to near the South West there was a tangible excitement in the air. The roads, whilst perfectly reasonable where unusually busy for 2am, as traffic warnings had predicted and the majority of those traveling where likeminded individuals attempting at the last minute to get as close as possible to the tip of Cornwall. For those who have never ridden a bike for any distance at speed, in the dark and wet no matter how well 'geared up' one might be it begins to get damn cold.

The cold and creeping tiredness meant we had to stop a number of times to unwind our increasingly stiff limbs ( a sports bike isn't built for comfort) and at each place we took a break there where groups of people excitedly discussing the forthcoming eclipse and their varying journeys. As always there was the camaraderie that exists unspoken among bikers, regardless of socio-economic status, profession or creed bikers are drawn together and by the time we reached the half way point in our journey we were no longer three lone travelers but riding with perhaps another 30 bikes.

The night wore on and by maybe 4.00am we were lost in fog in small lanes somewhere near Lands End (to this day I'm not exactly sure where we were) trying to locate the field where my brother and his friends had landed themselves. This was not a legitimate camp site, it was a farmer who had hired a portaloo and offered his land to the visiting masses for the occasion and hence was not signed. In the absence of any signal we could not make contact for directions and by then cold and worn out the whole idea was beginning to wear a little thin!

Eventually we found the designated field, slid the bike across what in the rain had become a quagmire and parked up.....no easy feat in pitch black and with only a side stand on soft mud! Five of us squashed rapidly into a two man tent and despite the odds slept until daybreak.

Daylight, hunger and a desperate need for the 'portaloo' woke us at about 6am, we had a breakfast of fried eggs and bacon (well just the egg for me, I'm vegetarian) and much needed coffee and then waited.

There where perhaps nearing 300 people in our field and in which ever direction one looked there were others as far as the eye could see, dotted around this small part of the British Isles. Strangers became friends and animated conversation about the impending event was the sole topic of conversation. None of us I'm sure, had any real idea what we were about to see and even less scientific knowledge of it but a common interest and excitement had bought us all to this same point, in expectation of something we would never have a chance again to experience.

We of course wanted clear skies or our efforts would be thwarted but the morning had been very overcast and we were not hopeful. We didn't really know what to expect but we did know we needed a clear sky!

I now can't recall the exact time but at some point in the late morning or very early afternoon the skies where just clearing when gradually everybody began looking in one direction. On the horizon what I can only describe as a dark translucent wall of something similar to fog was suddenly approaching us, it filled the horizon and came toward us quite rapidly. At the same time a complete hush fell, the birds stopped singing, cows and sheep became quiet and all of us, hundreds of individuals fell silent. As the 'black wall' advanced and enveloped us, we were plunged into almost complete darkness within a few seconds.......The cloud parted slightly and we could see the sun ........totally eclipsed!

In the absolute quiet and darkness thousands of us stood gazing at the sky in amazement, the black wall advanced beyond us, we watched it go, almost like a tangible thing we could touch and as it moved away on its path so the daylight returned.

The whole of the area suddenly erupted in spontaneous applause, I didn't like that, I wanted to stand in silence a few seconds longer and take in the phenomenon we had just witnessed but I understood it.

The whole event lasted maybe two and a half minutes but it was something I will never forget and a feeling I don't imagine I will ever experience again. Something so massive and so beyond our control.....awesome in the extreme.

The journey home on two hours sleep doesn't bear mention, all the traffic that had filtered into Cornwall over the previous week or two suddenly seemed to leave at once. The road problems we had been warned about materialised and despite being on two wheels the journey back took 10 hours! We had spent 17 hours in 24 riding in the cold and wet but I would do it all again.....no question.