Shady happenings

Shared company, Moon Pies make for a fun eclipse

Many of us in Arkansas were blessed with excellent views of the solar eclipse on Monday. No need to fly a “Lear Jet to Nova Scotia to see a total eclipse of the sun,” as Carly Simon crooned last century. All we had to do was step into the back yard.

But I chose long ago to visit Russellville, one of the best vantage points in the country. Heeding government warnings of massive traffic snarls, I left on Sunday to settle in a day early. I was surprised by the number of cars on my route south that were from way up north; license plates were of South Dakota, Iowa, Minnesota, Michigan and more than the usual from Kansas. We rolled along together through the Bobby Hopper Tunnel chasing a darkened sun.

The pre-eclipse hoopla fostered by Russellville city fathers and promotion board for more than a year was circus-like, to the point of overshadowing the solar event itself (pun intended). Local motel rates soared — it would have been cheaper to book a French Quarter hotel for Mardi Gras.

It’s not as if the True Grit Trail area is noted for luxury chain hotels. Yet the Russellville Hampton Inn — Hilton’s economy brand — went for more than $800 a night and Best Western at $600. Even Motel 6, noted for its Tom Bodett folksy radio ads, wouldn’t “leave the light on for you” for less than $570. Shall price gouging like this rebrand Arkansas from “The Land of Opportunity” to that of the opportunistic?

With that windfall, Russellville area hospitality could hiatus until Arkansas Tech’s first home football game in September. To circumvent those high rates, I booked the Russellville Super 8 in February on the chain website using my frequent guest points for two nights. Yet a few weeks later the motel manager called me demanding an additional $1,000 for the two nights as a deposit, which I saw as contrary: my appearance was already guaranteed by the hotel’s national website. I was being extorted. I found alternate reservations using another brand’s points, leaving the extortionist free to sell my stay for $1,000, which was the purpose of his call anyway. Hotel franchisees are reimbursed at low rates for rewards program redemptions. Thus, his actions. I cancelled.

With that I wasn’t feeling the love from the “I-heart-Russellville” slogan on the city water tower. Luckily, the Quality Inn I booked instead stepped in with genuine Southern hospitality and amenities rescuing the city’s reputation: Gift bags with eclipse glasses, bottled water and a clever snack of Moon Pie and Sun Chips. Later, as guests were viewing midday Monday, the owners came out with even more water and Moon Pies to keep us nourished and hydrated under the hot sun.

So why all the hype about this eclipse? I witnessed the last major one in 2017 in Springfield, Missouri. It was an interesting experience. But local hotels were not sold out and traffic on Interstate 44 was normal. Per the website Space. com (which sounds like a Container Store competitor, but it’s legit as to planetary stuff), the event in 2017 had a darkness totality of just over two minutes, 30 seconds. Monday’s event lasted four and a half minutes in peak areas with an expanse of 115 miles versus 70 with the prior eclipse. The difference in swath was because in 2017 the moon was 231,155 miles from earth while Monday it was closer, 223,392 miles, creating a conical shadow larger in diameter and higher in hotel rates.

There was much going on in Russellville on Monday but we motel guests, including a couple from France, eschewed the televised hubbub instead for the uncrowded parking lots of our motel, nearby Lowes home center and the next-door Waffle House. A dozen or so serious sun-chasers had large telescopes set up; they shared their views.

Nearby Interstate 40 traffic whizzed along normally despite dire predictions otherwise, although later came word that some motorists experienced slow downs both coming and going.

In our spot, we formed our own laid-back community of space voyagers reclining in Walmart Ozark Trail camp chairs. The eclipse began not long after noon. The entire staff of the Waffle House and its regional manager from Kansas City were outside with us. I approached and asked if they were closed. The manager responded that in essence, yes, as any potential customers would be outside wearing paper glasses. So amazingly, the eclipse had done what many hurricanes and floods have not. It shut down a Waffle House. That phenomenon, for this Gulf Coast native, was almost as stunning as the sun’s corona and mid-afternoon dark of night with crickets chirping.