By Emi Gruender
[INSTALLMENT 2]
If you’re outside right now, I ask you to look up at the horizon. Open your compass app and gaze to the East. If you’re lucky enough not to have a building in your way, you should see a curious collection of domes on the top of the highest hill way off in the distance. For as long as I’ve had long-distance sight, I’ve wondered what those buildings could possibly be.
As the first permanently occupied mountain-top observatory, the Lick Observatory has stood in the Diablo Range since 1888, looking over the persistently changing Silicon Valley. This issue, editor Faith Gonia will be joining me in the second ever journey of The Daily Explorer– this time, taking place in the dead of night.
— — —
Welcome back travelers, to The Daily Explorer. In this series, I travel (often with Journalism guests) to inexpensive and entertaining places within the Bay Area. With these accounts, I hope to inspire the readers of The Shield to explore their hometown and demonstrate that there’s always something new to explore.
Keep an eye out for some of your favorite writers from The Shield, as some may accompany me on these adventures in the future. If you have any favorite places, restaurants, parks, etc, please email me at 558971@my.cuhsd.org to issue a recommendation. Your name and input about the place in question will be credited.
Without further ado, buckle up and enjoy the blog-style ride of The Daily Explorer!
FRIDAY, May 10
Starting April 17, the Observatory sells tickets to a multitude of their summer events, including Photography Nights, Music of the Spheres, and Evenings with the Stars. Though these events do charge admission, ordinary entrance to the Observatory is free. There, visitors can visit the exhibits surrounding the main observatory, participate in a self-guided walking tour, enjoy a picnic over a magnificent view of the valley, and much more. Alternatively, guests can purchase tickets to the summer evening events.
This issue’s adventure takes place on Mt. Hamilton, about an hour’s drive from Westmont. As a hiking enthusiast, Faith Gonia will be joining me. Thanks to the Lick Observatory’s kind Director of Public Education and staff astronomer, Dr. Elinor Gates, The Shield was able to obtain two press passes to the Observatory’s Public Evening Tours. Our adventure is recorded below.
4:40 pm, Westmont High School
To start off the adventure, we hit the road around 4:40 p.m. As our designated drivers, my parents sat in the front seat. Both Faith and my respective parents had expressed anxiety about a young driver on those windy roads, so my parents insisted on driving instead. With a quick stop at Subway, we set off for the hills. As we rumbled along the gradually more rural roads, Jack Johnson blasted through the stereo– an homage to The Shield.
One detail I would like to share with you, dear readers, is the pure amount of luck that Faith possesses. Even though we left around rush hour, we made it to the observatory only two minutes late. Another example is how our conversations constantly seemed to manifest into reality– as we talked about how Amazon could deliver in such a remote location, an Amazon truck passed right by. Or when we dejectedly realized our phones had no service, a bright yellow sign with those exact words passed outside our window.
6:02 pm, Lick Observatory
Coincidences aside, we arrived at the Lick Observatory a couple minutes before the actual tour had begun. With only an hour to spare before sunset, our tour guide led us on a detailed tour around the Observatory campus. My personal favorite moment was the introduction of one of the southernmost dome– dedicated to the “search for extraterrestrial activity.” The primary focus of said dome was to detect laser pulses throughout our galaxy. As traditional lasers cannot be created naturally, any detected pulses could theoretically point to alien life. I was fascinated by this. Prior to my visit, I did not know that I harbored inclinations to believe that belief in extraterrestrial life was the work of conspiracy theorists. I thought that even though there is doubtlessly life elsewhere in the universe, it would be impossible to locate it. Seeing so much professional effort towards proving that humanity is not alone in the universe sends a chill down my spine, for a lack of better words.
As the tour continued, we learned fascinating tidbits concerning the Observatory and its inhabitants. Though I am usually fidgety during lectures, I was pleased to find myself apt everytime the guide shared new information. Despite the gnats buzzing around my head, I enjoyed learning about everything from meteor detectors to the cafeteria that visiting astronomers might dine in. As we walked through the campus, we saw the houses of the astronomers that lived there permanently, along with a retired schoolhouse meant for a community of children that once grew up on the mountain. Apparently, the community of the Observatory boomed in the 1920s, before remote control of the telescopes were possible. The resulting 100-person community created a tight-knit group, complete with parades down their Main Street. My favorite feature of this “downtown” was the ceramic red button on the side of a building– which I affectionately dubbed, “Ye Olde Fire Alarm.” There was so much to learn, I couldn’t possibly squeeze every bit of fascinating information into a couple paragraphs, and I will not try to.
For the heaps of information and fun facts I am leaving out, (and trust me, you do) give the Observatory a visit. Catch one of the free tours every hour on the half-hour, or even better– book an event. Though arguably expensive and remote, my experience dictates that the experience is worth the money.
The next stop on the tour featured the 3-meter Shane Telescope, the largest telescope on the mountain. The tour guide shared with us that this specific dome was created in 1959, and was the second-largest reflector in the world for many years. Beyond the telescope itself, we were able to attain front-row seats to a viewing of the structure– including countless ladders, a paint palette straight out of WW2 battleships, and a comically large “fork.” We learned about the inner mechanisms and history of the telescope, along with access to the catwalk overlooking the rest of the domes. At one point, Faith dangled her phone off the edge of the railing for a selfie. I was not happy about it.
8:08 pm, Lick Observatory, outside the Shane Telescope
Just in time to catch the sunset, our guides corralled us into the street just outside of the Shane Telescope. As Faith and I waited for the sunset, we met a physics enthusiast who introduced himself as Mike. He was very excited about a supposed “geo-magnetic storm” that night, and when asked to elaborate, shared graphs and heaps of information with us. To put it in simple terms, “when the sun gets a sun-spot, it goes really crazy and shoots a bunch of photons at earth’s magnetic zone. This messes with stuff and creates a ‘geo-magnetic storm.’” Most notably, it causes a phenomenon popularly known as Aurora Borealis.” The storm visual that Mr. Mike showed us indicates that California was currently smack-dab in the most affected areas of the storm, much to his elation.
9:22 pm, Lick Observatory, outside the Shane Telescope
After the sunset (which was gorgeous), the group made its way back to the main building for a history lecture as we waited for the stars to reveal themselves. Faith and I went to the side of the mountain overlooking Silicon Valley to admire the city as it started to light up. Though certainly unsanitary, we decided to lay down on the concrete and look up at the countless stars dotting the sky. Even now, I can’t believe that Faith wore shorts during this entire endeavor, whereas I was in a windbreaker and still freezing.
After a quick visit to the gift shop (I couldn’t resist), we enjoyed a history lecture on the life of James Lick, the enterprising carpenter responsible for the creation of the Observatory. Without spoiling too much lore, the guy had an incredible life. For any of my fellow WHAP-takers out there, I’d compare his adventure to Ibn Battuta’s– so unbelievable at times it almost seemed fictional. Faith’s favorite moment was learning that in ye olde days, one could build a shack on top of a mountain and legally claim said mountain.
One life story and a delicious cup of hot chocolate later, the group filed into the 36-inch Great Refractor Telescope dome for star viewing. As seen in the pictures, Faith and I were blown away. The gears separating the dome from the walls seemed straight out of a steampunk movie. The wheels responsible for shifting the telescope were literally pirate-ship steering wheels. The basement directly under the telescope matrix freaked us out, complete with a crypt of what (hopefully) contains the body of James Lick.
The views through the telescope were extremely interesting, though I cannot describe what I saw verbally. For a pair of co-orbital stars, my drawing recreation looks like a peeved sea urchin. For the star clusters, I can only ask you to imagine what neuron connections look like in a physical space. The only way to give the experience justice is to see it for yourself.
After Faith and I had both had our second peek through the telescope, the time was approximately 11:07 pm, and we were beat. We passed Mr. Mike on the stairs, who was stubbornly saying that he would stay for the whole night if it meant he could catch a glimpse of the aurora. We wished him luck.
As we climbed into the car, a congregation of people on the Northernmost side of the mountain began to gasp. A pink and green tint had begun to shine in the sky, ebbing and flowing in perfect columns above the horizon. Yet another piece of evidence that Faith posseses god-like luck, our visit to the Observatory fell on the one day that an exceedingly rare natural phenomenon occurred in California.
We passed hordes of people in lawn chairs and picnic blankets, all of which stared transfixed at the light show in the cosmos. As crazy driver after crazy driver zipped past us on the nerve-wracking and narrow roads, I became more and more thankful that an experienced driver was at the wheel in lieu of a new one. Faith expressed the same reliefs I did, saying that she would probably be panicking in this situation.
12:33 pm, Back To The Valley!
Our journey came to an end with dropping Faith off and driving home. Though this adventure doubtlessly took several hours out of my sleep schedule, I would not trade it for anything. (Well, maybe a 5 on upcoming AP Exams… but that’s not the point!) Though there have only been two installments of “The Daily Explorer” thus far, I can confidently say that today was one of the most incredible adventures I have embarked upon.
PHOTO ALBUM:
THE VERDICT:
- If you do plan to visit the Lick Observatory anytime soon, be sure to check out their summertime events– I recommend the Public Evening Tour with a friend.
- Do not drive up to the Observatory if you are a new driver (less than 5 years of experience). These roads were dicey, often without guardrails. Bring a trusted adult instead.
- The views of both the sky and the valley are breathtaking– I wish I had brought picnic supplies.
- If you’re cold easily, bring long pants and shirts. Don’t dress like Faith, with her casual shorts in 50 degree weather. I still don’t know how she didn’t freeze.
- The Lick Observatory and its staff created an unforgettable experience, with room for both education and wonder. Thank you so much, Dr. Elinor Gates, once more for granting The Shield press passes to the Observatory.
Join me in the next issue for yet another adventure, hopefully somewhere a little closer to home.
Signing off until next issue,
The Daily Explorer
