The Constellation
Aeronautica
There's a spot
in the San Francisco Bay Area that borders on the magical. The event
only lasts for about an hour, and only during the shorter days of the year,
but when you see it, the only word that comes to mind is magical.
And, interestingly enough, there might very well be a similar spot near
your own local large city. It'd be a kick trying to track it down.
More on that later.
You drive up
the foothills of the S.F. peninsula to a college parking lot right at dusk.
Spread out below you is a huge swath of Bay Area cities.
Directly behind
you, miles away on the top of a peak, is a VOR beacon for aircraft.
They zero in on it from hundreds of miles away.
The commercial
airliners heading for the S.F. airport from the northern cities like Seattle,
Portland and Reno first make a beeline for somewhere over northern California,
then turn directly toward the VOR signal.
And you.
The lights
on commercial airliners are just ungodly bright when you look directly
at them. You can see them from miles and miles away. But only
if they're pointing directly at you.
So now you
have an airliner miles and miles away flying directly toward you, its headlights
looking like an unwavering star in the nighttime sky.
And
then another one directly behind it. And another. And another.
Since they're
all flying directly at you, it's as if the 'stars' never move. But
slowly, over the minutes, as the planes slightly alter their altitude and
position, the pattern the stars make...
changes.
For minutes
on end, the four or five planes might make a diamond pattern, then slowly,
like watching the minute hand of a clock, they'll dissolve into a square
or rectangle or pyramid.
It's like a
living constellation of stars.
I call it the
Constellation Aeronautica.
It only lasts
for an hour or so; right after dusk falls so you can see the planes' lights,
and only during the rush hour (5 to 6 pm) so enough planes will be packed
together to make the display. And it only works during the shorter
days of the year. The rest of the year it doesn't get dark until
after the rush hour is over.
I remember
watching it while listening to the World Series on the car radio for a
number of years (it got to be a tradition), which would have been near
the end of October, so figure it only lasting from late October through
February.
You could certainly
try other lookout points in the area, but I can only guarantee it'll work
from this one particular spot. If you move too far to the side and
get out of the path of the VOR beacon, the whole illusion would fall apart.
Directions:
Get on highway
280 (runs up and down the peninsula) and head for Redwood City. Take
Farm Hill Blvd and then bear to your left and enter Cañada College.
You'll go up
a steep hill and then turn to the right on a one-way road. While
the first big parking lot to your right is okay, I'd suggest the second
one. Pull over to the right side and right up to the edge facing
straight outward, like so:

In the above
pic, the base of the arrow is about where your car would be parked, with
the arrow pointing (approximately) toward the event.
To find a similar
spot near your own local (large) airport would be a fun challenge.
For starters, it has to be a big enough airport that there'd be four or
five planes lined up during rush hour. The idea would be to dig up
a map of the VOR and flight paths and then literally draw a line between
them and find a lookout point on the same bearing. I suppose you'd
start outside the actual airport and note the direction the bulk of the
planes are coming from, then grab the map and plot your line. Except
for the 'hubs', most airports probably have one or two main directions
from which they're approached. There might be a number of VORs in
the area so the trick would be to find out which one is being used by the
commercial airliners.
Then drive
to your secret spot.
As dusk falls,
you'll look down near the horizon and you'll see a few stars that are slightly
brighter than the surrounding stars. The few stars become a cluster
of four or five, slowly dissolving from one geometric pattern into another.
Like living
stars.
Behold, the
Constellation Aeronautica.
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