The celestial light show of the north depends upon solar activity and the weather. The sun did its best, but the weather was not as cooperative. Marcia booked a “super Jeep.” Each of these 4-wheel-drive vehicles has 40-inch tires, carries about ten people, and has a ground clearance of about 18 inches. They can go where no no Gray Line buses can follow.

So, the deal is find the North Star, and drop down about twice the width of the palm of your hand. Assuming there are no clouds, and a wave of solar winds has hit the atmosphere, you might see a green curtain of light stretching in an east-to-west direction. Now, the human eye is sensitive, but a digital camera is even more so. What looked a like a faint green smear to the naked eye, glowed neon green in a 6-second exposure. Not to get too philosophical, but what is reality, what your eye sees, or what your camera records?

Our first observation was the best (say, a three out of 10) as cloud cover and gale-force winds blowing snow pretty much dimmed or obscured our subsequent viewing. Still, 4-wheeling our way through unplowed service roads on a volcanic mountain spewing sulfurous steam, while racing to outrun the cloud cover, was exciting.  And even a minor sighting of the northern lights for those of us who have never seen them bordered on awesome.

Note on the photo: shot at ISO 1600 at 6 seconds, so there is a lot of grainy noise that needs Photoshopping out. The orange band is the lights of Reykjavik, which even at a distance outshine the aurora.  For scale, the green band covered the distance across the sky of a yardstick held at arm’s length, with a thickness of the height of a 1-liter bottle of Coke held also held at arm’s length.