OSP Group Photos

1997: In spite of pessimistic weather forecasts, Thursday and Friday nights were as good as any at this site! Several observers pushed their telescopes over 1000 power to scrutinize Jupiter, Saturn and the Ring Nebula among other objects. The lack of clouds and forest-fire smoke allowed for all-night observing down to the horizon, and the extra darkness of Labor Day weekend created more zombies than usual! The weather failed an hour after sunset Saturday, but many people took advantage of the three-day weekend and were rewarded with more views on Sunday night. Media coverage was strong, and an article for Smithsonian Air & Space magazine was under development at 'press' time.

1996: The OSP committee won an important victory in the battle against the dust, with the Forest Service agreeing to allow gravel on the main road through the Indian Trail Springs site. While other parts of the area were still dusty, the main vehicle- and foot-traffic caused far less dust than previous events. Unfortunately, large forest-fires along the east side of the Cascade Range kept horizons high and closed the main road from Portland early in the week. Smoke near the horizon kept telescopes pointed high Thursday, but Friday saw many of the fires contained, leading to a high-quality night with telescopes up to 41 inches showing the sights. Saturday's daytime clouds broke away by evening, but strong winds rattled the teeth and 'scopes, resulting in more socializing than observing. Nearly six hundred people want away happy this time!

1995: Practice makes perfect, and the '95 edition went very smoothly. The weather was very good for three consecutive nights, leaving attendees groggy by Sunday. The CCD crowd grew a bit, as did those who watched the images appear on dimly-lit screens. Well over 500 people attended, and the mud of 1993 was long forgotten as dust-devils again sauntered through the telescope field. The big 40-inch from Portland debuted this year, but telescopes of all sizes and abilities were a short walk in any direction!

1994: With fire danger approaching extreme levels, the Forest Service flexes its muscle, requiring a water truck on site and severely restricting the parking. Camping is strung along the main road, and the social atmosphere suffers for it. The dust returns with a vengeance, prompting more people to visit the ‘swimming hole’, a quiet spot along the upper Crooked River. The event coincides with the Perseid meteors (which everyone enjoys) and a near first-quarter moon (which few people enjoy). The compromise is worthwhile this time, but washing a dark-sky site with moonlight is not planned again soon.

1993: With registration nearing 500, the Oregon Star Party has come of age. Logistics are becoming more difficult, but this site has room for twice as many people (Forest Service permitting). Early arrivals enjoy good skies through Wednesday, but the thundershowers on Thursday afternoon were distressing. Dust would not be a problem for this event: Thursday night is truly a blast, with lightning and heavy rain strafing the site for 12 continuous hours. Tents fail, observers quail, and a tree within throwing distance from many campers is electrocuted. Friday morning reveals a tangled mess of a site; more people would depart, but their vehicles are stuck in deep muck. The Forest Service stops by, advises us to wait for the ground to dry before moving the cars, and heads off to fight the lightning-sparked fires that somehow have survived the rains. Friday night is dry but humid, and by late Saturday all cars are unplugged, telescopes are drained, and skies are cleaner than ever. It may have been worth getting stuck for; on the other hand, those who arrive on Friday night get the best views without the suffering...

1992: The new site wins rave reviews from the crowds. The dust was more of a problem here, but the catering truck proves very popular! The weather is perfect except for the lone devastating dust-devil, and overnight views are spectacular. The OSP committee makes plans to combat the dust for the next year.

1991: The new site is crowded with over 200 attendees and telescopes of 30 and 24 inches dominating the scene. Portable toilets make their first OSP appearance, but the clouds have become all too familiar. Luck prevails once more, however, and those who could shake the cobwebs loose at 1:00 am captured a perfect half-night of viewing. The next day is clear from dawn to dusk, so several die-hards decide to hold out another day while others choose to cash in their chips on a winning streak. The luck runs out, and the perfect day ends in a stunning cloudbank.
With the increased attendance came a large number of people who had not experienced the perfection bestowed on the original dozen. These people had driven a long way, lost tires and springs to the cruel road, and left with only a few hours of actual observing. Reluctantly accepting the inevitable, the organizers began searching for a site that consumed less time and tires, yet gave darkness and elevation that was more reliable, if less perfect, than the Steens site. The answer came fairly quickly at Indian Trail Spring, located at 5000 feet in the center of Oregon.

1990: The west coast awakens, with observers from British Columbia to central California joining in on the fun. The meteorologists, however, have other plans: sleet and hail alternate with cold rain and occasional thunder to keep everyone isolated in tents and campers. Surprisingly, the skies clear at dusk - twice! - and a few hours of above-average observing is still possible. The site of previous years is proving inadequate, so a new site a mile away is found for the 1991 event.

1989: The Oregon Star Party nearly doubles in size. The weather is not up to the previous standard, but it only takes a few hours of excellence each night to keep spirits high. The first founders of the event create a more formal organization to press for greater regional and national recognition of the OSP as a worthwhile destination.

1988: A dozen Portland-area observers head for Steens Mountain - the highest point reached by road in the state, a fault-block ridge 9000 feet up in extreme southeastern Oregon. The skies are overpoweringly excellent, and a tradition begins. Despite the eight-hour drive from Portland through nearly every climatic zone in the state, the observing justifies the long commute.