Kitt Peak National Observatory

Stargazing at Kitt Peak: the Ultimate Weekend for Amateur Astronomers

YOU GET A LOT OF TIME to think about the special place you're visiting as you drive the long road to Kitt Peak National Observatory southwest of Tucson. Tantalizing glimpses of bright white domes on the summit come into view as you steer through the curvy switchbacks leading upward. largest collection of big telescopes. For decades, the mountain and its taxpayersupported, publicly owned institution have drawn the world's astronomical all-stars.

"Jim! The road!" my wife, Jeanette, says, grabbing the wheel when I swerve too close to the edge. Some of the drop-offs look like those vertiginous vistas in old Road Runner cartoons. Still, it's easy to be distracted by the thought of what lies at the end of this road: the world's For most of my life, I've been a fan of these men and women, and the eye-popping photographs taken with giant telescopes awe me. I've always wondered what it must be like to view such things at a place like Kitt Peak.

Tonight, we find out. Jeanette and I will be in charge of one of those domes. There's a room reserved for us in the astronomers' dormitory. We'll eat dinner in the astronomers' cafeteria. Best of all, we'll have exclusive use of a research-grade telescope and an operator skilled in its use. And, according to Adam Block, lead observer with the Advanced Observing Program, the staff treats program attendees exactly like visiting astronomers. For would-be astronomers, it's the ultimate weekend.

Jeanette and I arrive in the afternoon and take a quick look around. From the summit, looking at the Sonoran Desert far below us, it's easy to understand why the Tohono O'odham Tribe, which owns the mountain, considers it a sacred place. Kitt Peak's summit, unexpectedly green, looks like a cross between a national park and a college campus.

Monumental structures dwarf the 1960s-era brick buildings where people live and work when they aren't observing. I recognize the imposing McMath Solar Telescope, a towering white triangle that has been photographed so many times it stands as an iconic symbol of big science in the 20th century.

The largest dome, sited on the highest ground at 6,875 feet above sea level, houses the 158-inch Mayall Telescope, the biggest of the Kitt Peak telescopes. Geometric patterns of exposed structural steel give the 30-year-old building an Art Deco appearance. The Mayall's commanding presence is best appreciated at sunset, when huge shutters on the white dome open, allowing cool mountain air to circulate over the 15-ton mirror. Warm air rising from a hot mirror can distort the view, so the massive slab of optical-grade quartz must be cooled before work can begin.

The enormous domes make the nearby dormitory look especially modest. Our room features a bed, small bathroom and a window equipped with heavy blinds. One of the few luxuries is an alarm clock - especially helpful for nocturnal residents.

We have dinner cafeteria-style in a dining room shared by the staff and astronomers. Jeanette has pasta and I select an excellent prime rib. The cafeteria also offers vegetarian dishes and a salad bar. Although the cooks leave the mountain each evening, they take orders for meals that astronomers can remove from coolers late at night. Visitors also can choose sandwiches and fruit.

As darkness falls, we plan our observing time with Block. We'll use a 20-inch telescope that's bigger and more precise than the finest amateur instruments available. Its state-of-theart computer controls and digital cameras are more powerful than the best equipment in the world's top observatories just a few years ago.

Our goal is to capture at least one first-rate picture. Telescope time is so precious that most professional astronomers can't afford to take pictures of celestial objects just because they are beautiful. That field is still open to amateursalmost none of whom have access to this kind of equipment and sky conditions. Block suggests we focus on a particularly lovely and rarely photographed galaxy known as M88. "With a little luck and good weather conditions, you could make one of the best pictures anyone has ever taken of M88," Block says.

Photographs produced by the Advanced Observing Program are widely published in magazines and professional journals. We're told there's a very good chance that the photographs taken tonight will end up in a textbook or a magazine someday. At a minimum, they will get prominent display in the AOP image gallery at www.noao.edu/outreach/aop. Jeanette and I enjoy the beauty of the now-dark night sky, and experience it deeply in this lovely, historic place. As the night goes on, and the Milky Way drifts westward over our heads, it's easy to feel closer to heaven than ever before.

Slowly, our picture of M88 comes together on the screen of Block's computer, and he shows us how to turn these digital images into fine art. Jeanette heads off to bed around midnight so she can rest for tomorrow's drive home. By the time sunrise illuminates our dark night sky, Block describes our picture of M88 as "one of the best ever."

We also complete a less-ambitious shot of M57, the famous Ring Nebula in the constellation Lyra. This image is not as rare, but a framed picture of the colorful ring will make a nice companion to the M88 photo we'll hang on our wall back home.

Block burns our photographs onto a CD, and I return, exhilarated, to the dormitory. During the short walk, I encounter astronomers yawning as they shuffle back to their rooms. I close the heavy window blinds before collapsing into bed.

"How was it?" Jeanette asks.

"Stellar," I say. AH