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Not for “tl;dr” simpletons. This website rewards time and thought. Suckers seeking instant oversimplifications, scarcely skimming the surface, should retreat back to the rest of the Internet.

No “artificial intelligence” here — everything is by and for real humans.

Email: normsperling@gmail.com

Postal: 2625 Alcatraz Avenue #235, Berkeley, California 94705 USA.

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Selfies Across Space

An Astronomer’s Road Trip

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Since I’m an astronomer, I drive to astronomical places.

I visited the brightest asteroid, 4 Vesta, in Virginia.

Asteroid 8 Flora is in North Dakota, but they didn’t offer any L chondrites.

When I visited Jupiter, the local Floridians took their name lightly.

I looked up Uranus in Missouri. It’s a crude entertainment area for soldiers.

I shunted to its moon Oberon … North Dakota.

Is 1 Ceres an “asteroid” or a “dwarf planet”? I found a grain of truth in California.

As so many people had told me, I went to Hell ... Michigan.

They welcomed me as one of their own.

The whole Cosmos welcomed me. Everybody was Minnesota-nice.

They even pointed me out … in Wisconsin.

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How to create your own custom road trip on any topic:

Compile its vocabulary.
In Wikipedia, look up each term’s “Disambiguation” page.
Find places with those names. A smaller-scale project could use street names and their signs. Even easier: any kind of sign.
Take selfies with signage there.

All your fellow enthusiasts will know you’re cool. Enhance that by heading to Auburn, California, on I-80. Take exit 119B southbound. Drive Cal Route 49 (the Gold Rush Highway) 6 twisty winding miles, and take a selfie at that place’s “Welcome” sign.

I surrendered to my Fate … in Texas.

There are pieces of Iron in several states. Here’s the one in Missouri.

A bright little nugget of Gold landed in Genesee, Pennsylvania.

My favorite constellation is Orion. I got a closeup look at it in Illinois.

Hercules holds a great globular cluster, M-13, near where I taught.

Along with my astronomical travels, I rode on my personal journey. They personalized a dunce cap for me in Peculiar, Missouri.

I was Uncertain what to do. So were Texas and Louisiana.

The Carbon industry in Texas is well-oiled.

The southern corner of the Summer Triangle, Altair, is also in Texas. But I never found Deneb. Perhaps there’s a tail about that.

The bright star Canopus vacations at a lake in New York.

The red giant Antares is off the Main Sequence and off the main roads … in Arizona.

I looked North … from South Carolina.

I saw the North Star … in Ohio.

I found the Ring, M 57, though it was not in Lyra, but Wisconsin.

An Ohio town had an explosive idea: Going Nova. That cooked and splattered heavy elements all around.

All 6 of Castor’s stars were eager beavers in Alberta.

They sure got their directions right.

I drove to Mercury … Nevada. It was hot and dry.

I drove on, to Venus … Florida. The air felt hot and heavy.

I stopped by Earth … in Texas. Just briefly! It’s not like I’m FROM there or anything.

I saw a colorful Aurora … in Indiana.

I went to The Moon … in Pennsylvania. Just behind me was a big crater.

I went to Mars … also in Pennsylvania. They made a big deal out of being “Mars”.

I took a side-trip to another Uranus moon, Ariel … Washington.

I drove on, to Neptune … New Jersey.

The road to Pluto, West Virginia, had as many twists and turns as the path Science took, trying to figure out how to classify Pluto.

Deep in the Heart of Texas, the stars rose Big and Bright.

I intuited a mental message from Spock and warped to Vulcan ... Alberta.

I saw a beautiful Rising Sun in Indiana.

Vast flocks of Snowbirds migrate to Sun Cities in Florida and Arizona.

I found a Star right in the middle of North Carolina.

At the bright corner of the Summer Triangle, I found Vega … Texas. Is that where Vegans come from?