So, 9 hours of driving through the desert, from Tucson to west Texas. Shortly after we passed through the ruined and abandoned town of Victoria, we came across random desert Prada.
I have no fucking idea, so don't ask.
Driving down county 555, we found the anti-LMNO.
HET dome. where the sex is.
Air bearing plenum, as I mentioned earlier.
Part of the mirror lab. More later.
91 FUCKING MIRRORS
Airlock being prepped for Bethany and I.
I learned 3 things that you never say to Bethany in an airlock. No matter how bored you get.
1. You ever get one of those sweatballs running down the crack of your ass, but you can't do anything because you're in a Michelin Man pressure suit? Because that's a thing. As we speak.
2. I can hear you farting over the intercom.
3. Can you hear me farting? Because that's like a lazy man's commo check.
(It's worth mentioning that even in a pressure suit, you fart non-stop when pumping down to, say, 4 Pascals of pressure)
Then she threatened to cut my suit with her wire cutters, which I felt was unreasonable escalation.
Then the HET lens, above the 91 FUCKING MIRRORS:
Calibration Telescope, pic 1
Cal scope, pic 2
HET catwalk
"The Mangler", 1940 telescope, still useful for calibrating the HET.
As for what's going on with all of this, that's next installment. But it's like the Manhattan Project and the Apollo Program added together while you bugger congress in broad daylight. It's fucking amazing.
