Chasing Auroras 2024
Typically confined to the northern most latitudes of our planet, Aurora Borealis is a natural spectacle many dream of seeing. People travel to places like Norway, Iceland, and Alaska to get a glimpse, but did you know that you can see it right here in the Northeastern United States! While rare, exceptionally powerful Auroras have been seen with the naked eye as far south as Alabama, with the largest incident in recent memory occurring in October of 2003. The “Halloween Storm” was a geomagnetic storm of quite literally astronomical proportions. While we have not seen an incident of similar scale since, there have been plenty opportunities to see spectacular aurora displays over the past two years.
Why does it seem like auroras are occurring more commonly now? Why are we seeing them farther south? It’s actually completely normal and part of our suns solar cycle. Our sun goes through an 11 year or so cycle. During the peak of this cycle, solar activity increases and intense sun spots appear more frequently. This is known as solar maximum. In October of this year (2024), experts from NASA and NOAA announced that our sun had entered solar maximum, which could last through 2025. In fact, increased solar activity could last well into 2026.
While it seems like there’s plenty of time to possibly get a glimpse of this fabled natural phenomena, I tend to be quite impulsive when photographic opportunity knocks. Starting in late 2023, I began “chasing” auroras. A friend shared with me that there was a chance of seeing the lights farther south than typical. He sent me a pin and I hopped in my car to the eastern Catskills. I drove up a dark, mountain road before coming to an overlook parking area. There, we found a number of other cars waiting and watching. We gazed at the clear night sky, chatted with some fellow observers, and dabbled in milky way photography. As time went on, more and more observers began leaving. Among the howling coyotes and the odd passing car, not much happened on that night. The aurora was a no show. Was I deterred? No, but this did put my aurora chasing career on hiatus. It wouldn’t be until May of the following year that I’d begin the chase again.
On May 11th, 2024, one of the largest auroral events in recorded history occurred. Not quite the Halloween Storm of 2003, but quite close. Only problem was dense cloud cover over most of the eastern United States. For those extremely dedicated few who can function off little to no sleep, a few breaks in the clouds gave way to incredible displays. This happened somewhere around 2:00-3:00am. A friend was able to capture the lights from his window in super suburban Bergen County. Having to work the following day, I was frustrated to say the least. Would I ever see the northern lights close to home?
That all changed in August. Once again, my friend sent me that fateful text. This time, I managed to get out of work a bit early and made a B-line farther north than ever before. We had made the collective decision to explore new vantage points whenever possible. All the hopes of finding the perfect shot. High hopes for someone who had yet to even get a glimpse of an aurora.
We made our way up to the Southern Adirondacks near Great Sacandaga Lake. Before hand, we scouted out a few possible shooting locations online. We basically just needed to have good views north and the rest would happen naturally. This was a much longer drive than the first overlook. A smart photographer would have booked a hotel or better yet, picked a closer spot to shoot from. Remember that impulsivity i mentioned earlier. As we neared the lake, we split up to explore a few of the locations we had researched. Once my friend got to one beach, he reached out to say “This is the spot!”. The beach was dark and far away from any boats or marinas. There were already quite a few photographers set up, which let us know that this was an established viewing location. Just as 9:00pm passed, you could see what looked like search lights on the horizon. Tall bright beams slowly flowing over the distant mountains. There it was. Interestingly, it dimmed nearly as quickly as it appeared. This would be my first experience with a substorm.
Substorms occur when solar energy stored in earth’s atmosphere is quickly released downwards. The result is an explosion of aurora activity as solar particles interact and react with particles in our atmosphere. These solar particles arrive with strong solar winds pretty regularly, but that won’t cause a big aurora. What does, is what’s called a Coronal Mass Ejection, or CME. A CME is an explosion of solar energy that can erupt from solar flares. When a flare and eventual CME are earth directed, you have a good chance of an extraordinary aurora. As the solar energy hits, the atmosphere absorbs it. When it can no longer hold said energy, it releases it as mentioned before. That is what we saw around 9:00 and it would not occur again until much later. As the night progressed, a dim glow pulsed on the horizon. Just after 11:00pm the glow strengthened. Photos showed a dim, but colorful aurora with colors varying from neon green to a faint magenta near the top. This was the brightest display of the night. That was, at least our night. soon after the 11:00pm substorm, we called it a night and went home.
Above, you’ll see the progression of a substorm from an event in September of 2024. This was the first overnight trip, which was especially nice as it was the farthest north we’d gone. Our September adventure began in North Creek, NY. Home to Gore Mountain, North Creek is a familiar name for those ski enthusiasts out there. From North Creek, we drove north through Newcomb and Indian Lake before settling on an overlook with great views of the high peaks region just north of us. We were joined by one local photographer and a Adirondack Park Police Officer. concerned that the officer might kick us out of the park after dusk, I approached and asked. better to rip off the band-aid and give us time to find a new spot if need be. Luckily, the officer had no problem with us being there. It was simply the only spot for miles with good cell service.
Cell service was key to this whole operation. You see, by this point. my friend and I had educated ourselves on the finer details of what makes an aurora tick. In other words, we had access to resources that would alert us to approaching solar winds and such. Earlier that afternoon, someone on an aurora chasing facebook group had jokingly posted that he was taking bets as to when the CME would hit earth. His first guess was 7:15pm. Who could’ve anticipated that at around 7:12pm, we got confirmation of impact. You have to remember that with all the satellites and other space weather monitoring systems we have, experts still can only estimate the arrival time of a CME. There are simply too many variables that effect the speed and intensity of an arrival. I’ve seen storms arrive in under 24 hours, and I’ve seen storms take nearly 72 hours. The only thing we can ever know for certain, is that a CME is coming. It arrives when it arrives.
Similar to the august aurora, a brief substorm appeared just after 9:00pm. Although the CME arrived two hours prior, it takes time for that solar energy to build up. Once released, we saw some pink over the mountains. This was nothing noteworthy. A dim glow that eventually faded. We lost a little hope at that moment. Was that it? Did we drive all this way for a little pink blip? No worries, we thought. We’ll wait it out a bit longer. It is at this point that I should mention that this was our last night up there. We had been up for two days and were planning on going home this night. After a restless night checking the numbers before, I was tired and frustrated once again.
By 11:00pm, I was ready to call it quits. I already had come to the decision that I’d need to book another hotel room, as I was too tired to make the nearly 4 hour drive home. I also had work in the morning, so I’d want a head start in that direction. I called a hotel in Lake George, as it was already too late to book via their website. As I was on the phone and in the car, my gear already packed up, my friend approached. He knocked on the window and pointed forward. There was a dim glow on the horizon that I had thought to be clouds. He showed me a chart on his phone showing a drastic change in atmospheric energy. That paired with my phone picking up green in the glow showed us that a substorm was brewing.
In the images above, you’ll see that dim green glow gradually intensify until we have a full blown substorm. The time between the first and last image was roughly 20 minutes. The time between each image is actually shorter than the last, with image 1 and image 2 being taken nearly 15 minutes apart. For those who always ask “Did you actually see it, or did your camera see it?” Both! As mentioned earlier, the bright beams, called pillars, appear like searchlights. Tall, white beams of light that pulsate in the sky. You have to remember, our eyes see light only at the exact millisecond that they see it. Cameras, even phones can capture light over many second if not minutes. They’re able to absorb light and cut through the light pollution that makes it so dim to the naked eye. In order to see an aurora perfectly with the naked eye, you’d need to be directly below it. Speaking of that…
The October 10th Geomagnetic Storm was one of the most intense auroral displays in recent memory. While not quite at powerful as the May 11th storm, it was pretty close. Additionally, there was little to no cloud cover this time, meaning more people saw it. At least outside the Adirondacks. During the September trip, my friend and I explored a lot of new trails and roads throughout the Newcomb area. We had scouted out two or three spots with good views of the high peaks and clear views north. When an Earth directed CME was reported, we immediately began making our plans. Hotels were booked, weather was checked, and we were on our way. Little did we know, there was dense cloud cover directly over much of the Adirondacks. This was not in the forecast. I was already almost there when the clouds quickly enveloped the sky. Quite perturbed, I called my friend who had arrived earlier. He had driven up to one of those previously scouted spots where it had begun to rain. We agreed to meet at the hotel and figure out a plan B from there.
After arriving at the hotel, we frantically looked at satellite imagery for a cloud free space nearby. The south shore of Lake Champlain showed promise, so we picked a park and made our way back to the car. As we were getting ready, my friend pointed out a pink glow appearing through the clouds. This was exciting, but strange as the glow appeared southwest. A moment of realization later and we hopped in the car. This had to be some display for the light to be seen through the clouds and south of us. As we drove, I’d look up at the occasional break in the clouds to see a blood red sky. No camera, no phone, just the naked eye.
When we arrived at our shooting location, the first and likely strongest substorm had faded. Still, the sky had an ominous green glow. Unlike past outings where we saw the event from a distance, this time it was occurring directly overhead. When the second and third substorms hit, I couldn’t fit the full scale of the pillars in the frame. In the third image above, you’ll see one massive pillar that completely fills the frame of my camera. Even through sporadic clouds, we managed to capture incredible colors and patterns in the sky. I’d even go as far as to say that the clouds enhanced these images. Had they been completely cloud free, they’d look like the millions of other images taken that night.
I should also add that while my friend was driving us to the lake, I was texting friends and family. “GO OUTSIDE” was all it took. My mom was the most receptive. She went outside and reported that there was nothing going on. Fidnign that hard to believe, I said to check again. Sure enough, a few minutes later and the sky was red all the way down in New Jersey.
An image taken my by mom from the end of our street in Bergen County, NJ.
That has been it for auroras in 2024. New Years eve saw an impressive geomagnetic storm, but once again the northeast was bogged down with heavy cloud cover and even the odd thunderstorm. I will head out once again, but conditions have to be right. I learned a lot about geomagnetic storms and auroras in 2024, both the easy and hard ways. I’d love to capture an image in one of the spots my friend and I scouted, but I’d also love to keep exploring and find something truly special. I even though about capturing and image with snow. Luckily, it’s been a snowier year than past years so far. Hopefully we get some significant activity in the not so distant future.
