Probably known better by its nickname the "Intergalactic Tramp" bestowed by Harlow Shapley in 1944, NGC 2419 is unusual among winter's deep-sky objects for many reasons. First, it lies within the nondescript constellation of Lynx, a nearly starless span between the Gemini twins and the leading paw of Ursa Major.

Next, the nature of the object, a globular cluster, seems quite out of place in a region dominated by distant galaxies. Aren't globular clusters supposed to swarm around the center of the Milky Way? That's certainly where we find most, scattered throughout Sagittarius and neighboring Ophiuchus, Scorpius, and other nearby summer constellations. The fact that NGC 2419 is so far from the galactic core led many astronomers in the early 20th century to conclude, albeit erroneously, that is an independent system. The "Intergalactic Tramp" epithet echoes that incorrect assumption.  (I should point out that when Shapley used the word "tramp" in 1944 to describe NGC 2419, its connotation was quite different than how many use the same word today. Shapley likely used the term to signify NGC 2419's slow, somewhat aimless meandering, like a hobo, rather than a comment on its lack of morality!)

Like the other 150 or so globulars in the Milky Way's family, NGC 2419 does indeed orbit the center of our galaxy. Its orbital path, however, is quite unique among globulars. Unlike most other globulars, which hug the core, NGC 2419 follows a wide, eccentric track that takes an estimated three billion years to complete. At the present time, NGC 2419 is projected to be between 275,000 and 300,000 light years away from the solar system and about the same distance away from the galactic center. That's farther away than two of our galaxy's dwarf galaxies, the Large and Small Magellanic Clouds.

Although the constellation Lynx is difficult to spot, locating NGC 2419 is not as tough as it might appear at first thanks to its proximity to Castor [Alpha (α) Geminorum]. Center Castor in your finderscope and then slowly scan about half a field northward to the 5th-magnitude stars Omicron (ο) and 70 Geminorum. Hop another half field northward and you'll come to another, fainter pair of stars (6th-magnitude SAO 60257 and 7th-magnitude SAO 60234) oriented east-west. Time to switch to your telescope. You should see another, tighter pair of 7th-magnitude stars (SAO 60229, a fine double star in its own right, and SAO 60232) just to the north. All four stars should fit into the same field of your widest-field eyepiece. Now, swap eyepieces to medium magnification, say 100x or so, and take another look. Can you spot a very faint, diffuse blur just to the east of those two 7th-mag stars? If so, you've nabbed NGC 2419.

NGC 2419 glows dimly at magnitude 10.3 and spans about 4 arc-minutes. Since none of its stars shine brighter than 17th magnitude, NGC 2419 appears pretty much the same when viewed through all but the very largest backyard telescopes -- faint and fuzzy with just the slightest suggestion of a brighter central core. To catch any hint of NGC 2419, however, requires a dark sky, so wait for one of those special late-winter nights when the Moon is down and the air is dry.

Have a favorite challenge object of your own?  I'd love to hear about it, as well as how you did with this month's test.  Contact me through my web site or post to this month's discussion forum.

Until next month, remember that half of the fun is the thrill of the chase.  Game on!