The Night Two Rangers Eclipsed an AI Error
I never imagined I would be all alone in Stoneman Meadow on that quiet and peaceful August evening. I had fretted that a huge crowd would converge there to watch the lunar eclipse, set for Wednesday, August 26, 2026, at about 9:15 PM.
I had good reason to expect the worst. Wanting to be ready, I asked AI for the date and for tips on getting the best photos. Its response confirmed the day and time of this much-anticipated astronomical event.
Additionally, in preparing me to get into position for the best photos possible, AI urged me to get to Glacier Point early (part of my original plan), by 5:30 PM, since "a rare astronomical event like the lunar eclipse will be highly competitive and likely gridlocked if you do not plan ahead."
I imagined hordes of people elbowing each other for room as we set up our tripods high upon the rock masses that overlook Yosemite Valley and Nevada and Vernal Falls.
The AI "alternative plan" spooked me even more. It stated, "If Glacier Point is completely locked down by park staff, pull off at Washburn Point, located just 1.5 miles down the road. It has a smaller lot but features nearly identical sweeping views of Half Dome with a fraction of the crowds."
Eventually, those urgent warnings changed my plans. After hiking to McGurk and Westfall Meadows off Glacier Point Road earlier in the day, I decided not to fight the crowds at Glacier Point. Instead, I returned to Yosemite Valley to view the eclipse closer to my lodging. That way, I could avoid the long drive back in the dark, and I would have more options for viewing the eclipse on the Valley floor.
After a leisurely dinner, I walked to Stoneman Meadow to set up my camera equipment, hoping to document the eclipse with a few memorable photos. I arrived at about 7:15 PM. A fair number of people had gathered on the boardwalk, which bisects the meadow and gives campers from the Pines Campgrounds easy access to Curry Village.
I found a spot on the boardwalk and gently extended my tripod's legs onto the meadow floor. My timing could not have been better. The upper portion of Half Dome shone brilliantly in the sun's last rays. I gladly watched the shadows of the distant Valley walls slowly creep up Half Dome's face.
Others in the crowd watched in delight too, seated on the boardwalk, mesmerized, their feet dangling in the meadow as if dipping them in a sea of grass.
Once the shadow-curtain reached Half Dome's summit, the satisfied observers began to thin out. This surprised me, because the main event was yet to come. And the crowd did not just thin out; it disappeared completely. Surely, I reasoned, the dinner hour was nigh. They would grab some grub, and then the hordes would return to vie for space to photograph this rare Yosemite eclipse. Certain of their return, my tripod and I held our ground.
But no one returned. Not one. Eight-thirty arrived. There I stood on the boardwalk, alone in the darkness. So much for the gridlock.
I was determined not to miss this lunar eclipse, but I started to doubt the accuracy of the information I had received. The thought crossed my mind that every AI result comes with the reminder, "AI can make mistakes."
By 9:00 PM, I could see a white glow over Grizzly Peak. It shone so brightly that I began to doubt Earth's shadow would play any role in this moonrise. It looked like a near-full moon ready to drench the Valley floor in reflected sunlight. I walked closer to get the best position possible. Of course, this was no hardship, since I remained alone in the dark.
The light brightened as the minutes ticked toward 9:15. Then I heard a distant rumble on the boardwalk coming from the direction of the campgrounds. Looking to my left, I could barely make out two figures walking toward me. Maybe other eclipse watchers would join me after all!
As the two people neared, the lights of a Curry Village shuttle bus briefly flashed on them like lightning in the night. I quickly identified them by their official park ranger hats. Closer now, their steps thundered on the boardwalk's wooden planks.
I imagined the lights of Curry Village gave them only a silhouette of me, a strange soul standing in the middle of Stoneman Meadow in complete darkness. I figured I had better talk fast when they arrived, lest they think I was up to no good or presented some threat.
When they arrived, I greeted them and said, "I'm waiting for the lunar eclipse. It should happen any minute now." They passed by me and stopped to my right.
"Lunar eclipse?" one of them asked. "I didn't know there was a lunar eclipse tonight."
"Yes, I read that there would be a lunar eclipse tonight, although judging by the non-existent crowd of moon watchers, I am beginning to think I got bad information. Look, there at the ridgeline."
"Oh, yes, I see the glow over Grizzly Peak," one ranger said enthusiastically. "The moon is about to rise."
That was all we said. The two rangers stayed, and, like me, they kept their eyes fixed on Grizzly Peak. Slowly, the moon released its full reflective power. Then, all at once, its brilliant light shone like the glory of heaven itself.
I looked over at the rangers. Their faces shone in the moonlight too. They both smiled broadly. I wasn't sure whether the glow came from the moon or from their pleased disposition.
"Wow! That was amazing," I said.
"Yes, better than an eclipse," one of the rangers teased.
I responded, "You know, this is the first time I have ever watched a moonrise with two rangers. This is a highly unusual event!"
They both smiled and nodded. Then they walked on toward the lights of Curry Village.
I turned back, and all of Stoneman Meadow appeared lit up, shining as if the sun had never set. I too felt brighter, despite not seeing what I came there for.
Later, I learned the eclipse was real after all. A deep partial lunar eclipse did pass over the United States the very next night, Thursday, August 27, peaking at almost exactly 9:15 PM Pacific time. AI had the hour right and the day wrong. As it turned out, clouds settled over Yosemite Valley that evening after a day of rain, and I would not have seen the eclipse anyway.
So the wrong night turned out to be the right one, a rare event of its own. Watching the moonrise with two rangers eclipsed any disappointment I might have had about the AI error.
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