Astronaut Walk

I woke up early for the best day of my life. After a hearty breakfast of bacon, scrambled eggs, toast, and coffee, I showered and got dressed. There would be no more water for showers after lift-off. Then the technicians helped me get into my orange spacesuit. From that moment on, I was smiling ear to ear. As I walked to the rocket, I held my helmet in my left hand. To my right, a cheering crowd thronged my path to the elevator. I turned and held out each of my hands, switching the helmet from one to the other. It was a microcosm of humanity. People put rings on my fingers until there was no more room, There were at least five on all my fingers. I passed a group of Orthodox Jews who had come to pray for my safety. The rabbi gave a quick blessing as he put a yarmulke on my head. Many others tried to give me necklaces, but unfortunately, I had to refuse them to stay under the weight limit. 

As I passed a group of Hawaiians, a woman dressed as a hula dancer put a lei around my neck so that I might carry the spirit of aloha into space. I accepted her gift as it was light enough, and the flowers would remind me of my home on earth during the long journey. At the end of the farewell path were my parents and siblings. I had a picture of them and me in my pocket. I hugged my mom and said "bye, family, see y'all in two years." Although a round trip to Mars only takes 21 months, in order for earth to be in the right place on the way back, I would need to spend about three months on the red planet. Jolly good, I thought. That just means more time to explore a new world and have fun. I entered the elevator and the automatic door clanged shut. If I had been brave enough to look down through the metal grating in the floor, I would have been shocked as the ground disappeared as I was whisked upward to the capsule. The ride up was a prelude to the launch and the great adventure in entailed. 

The elevator stopped, and I stepped out to enter the capsule. I paused and remembered to close the hatch gently and lock it tight. Every detail of the mission had been scrupulously planned, yet now I was putting my life into the hands of thousands of strangers: scientists, engineers, technicians, and many others. My mind briefly lingered over the many hours training in the neutral buoyancy swimming pool, an underwater environment meant to simulate the weightlessness of space. Everything else I would need for my sojourn had already been loaded. Aside from food, water, and hygiene supplies, there was a flash drive with all the books, movies, and music I could ever want. In lieu of actual company, and on the advice of a team of NASA psychologists, I was allowed to take my beloved childhood stuffed animal. It was a small, white seal pup plushy I got from the gift shop at the national aquarium in Baltimore. I named him Elmer and spent many nights holding him close as a wee lad while I slept.  

The rocket was a super-sized version of the Saturn V vehicle which took astronauts to the moon. After much discussion, it was decided that the mission to Mars would be a one-man show, which simplified many technical and life support challenges. It's funny that a rocket has a lot in common with a can of soda in that both are about 3% metal, and the rest is liquid. In my case, the liquid was thousands and thousands of gallons of liquid oxygen and hydrogen. I vividly remember seeing white plumes of boiling liquid oxygen billowing off the sides of the spacecraft. Many times when I was younger, I watched the Apollo 11 launch and saw how flakes of frost were shaken loose from the sides of the ship as the engines roared to life. One thing was certain: I was in for a hell of a ride. I strapped into my seat and buckled the five-point harness. There was no turning back now. Even though I had practiced this moment a hundred times in training, it still jangled my nerves. 

I put on my headset and did a radio check. All systems go. The 90-second countdown started. There's a saying that there are no atheists in foxholes, and I think the equivalent among astronauts is that we all believe in luck. At the 30-second mark, I held my old Army dog tags in my hand and hoped its charm would protect me and the rocket somehow. The 10-second mark came, and I could all kinds of gizmo whirr and bellow to life. The lights on the control panel in front of me flashed in a kind of mesmerizing dance. 3, 2, 1...the main engines roared to life like a righteous hurricane. If you've ever been at a rock concert without earplugs, that's kind of what a rocket engine sounds and feels like. It's someone beating the living daylights as hard and as fast as they can on a big bass drum. The acceleration slammed me into the back of my seat. I took a few trips on the centrifuge in training to prepare me for the g-force. A g-force of 10 will make just about everyone pass out. That day, I only had to withstand a 4g. Even so, that was the same as 700 pounds being put on my chest. 

It was less than five minutes between liftoff and the time the spacecraft reached escape velocity and broke fee of earth's gravity. At the one-hour mark, I got permission to get out of my seat. Eight hours or so later, I zoomed past the moon. Through a porthole in the rear, I saw earth, my home, slowly disappear into the deep, empty blackness of space. Bye, earth, I murmured as I somberly waved. It would be a long time before I saw its blue sky again.