glass

It was June 2000 that I made my first trip to Watkins Glen. Another advanced high performance driving school, this time run by the good people at Trackmasters. It was pretty exciting to put wheels on the famed race track, even though I was putt-putting around in a rental Intrigue with no brakes. For the next few years, I'd return a couple of times each warm season.

Typically, we'd dive in from the top, that is, we'd travel along the Thruway until exit 42. It was south to quaint Geneva, along Seneca Lake and its many fragrant vineyards, finally to the storied town of Watkins Glen, New York. "We made it," I thought, crossing the checkered line painted on the pavement of North Franklin.

On a couple of occasions, we took a different route from Ontario, turning south a Rochester, so to connect, briefly, with one of the east-west Interstates, number 86. The first time on this path, before turning north at Horseheads, I saw a name that I immediately recognised, with some nostalgia, childhood memories of my grandparents flooding through my mind, baking, eating, laughing, fun.

The city of Corning, host to the former Corning Glass Works, is at the junction of several highways, nestled in shallow Appalachian mountains, near the meandering Chemung River. I assumed this was where all our baking kitchenware back home had come from. Hardy dishes with blue cornflowers, flanged on opposite sides to receive a temporary handle. Now, I had a modern, simple style of Corning oven casseroles. An ah-ha moment for me.

What I didn't realise at the time was this was where they made big glass. Really big glass. Really, really, big glass! For large telescopes. But fast cars were distracting me then from the stars and I didn't take the opportunity to explore. I recently stumbled across an image that brought back this peculiar memory.

The image was of workers putting the finishing touches on the shipping crate for the successfully moulded 200" Pyrex mirror blank. This huge piece of glass would find it's way to Caltech and eventually to the Hale Telescope. I read the brief article on the fascinating story of Dr McCauley's vision and persistence.

Of course, this is where the 74" mirror at the David Dunlap Observatory was poured. Corning is everywhere!

Maybe, if I'm down that way again, I'll take a tour. It'd be interesting to the see the first attempt at the 200" mirror in the Corning Museum of Glass. And all the other fascinating ways we use glass. I'm sure it would be enlightening. Incredible glass. Woven into our lives. And an essential part of astronomy.