DESTINATION

destination Getting There Is Half the Fun at Fred Lawrence Whipple Observatory

MY FIRST GLIMPSE of the Fred Lawrence Whipple Observatory was of a tall white box poised serenely on the top of Mount Hopkins. It didn't have the traditional domed roof of most observatories, but then the famed telescope it houses isn't like most telescopes.

My tour started at the observatory Visitors Center, located in the Santa Rita Mountains of the Coronado National Forest south of Tucson. The center has exhibits ranging from star charts to Whipple's space-themed neckties.

Two dozen of us boarded a white Blue Bird bus for the drive up the mountain. The 10-mile road, which looks like an endless strand of spaghetti slapped onto the mountainside and which skirts breathtakingly close to the precipice, is only wide enough to accommodate one vehicle. I wisely chose an inside seat.

While driver Dave Martina negotiated the turns, docent Tom Saville took my mind off imminent vertigo with a running commentary. During the 45-minute crawl, he pointed out landmarks such as the Two Hole Mine and a singular Apache pine tree. But his enthusiasm really sparked when he talked about astronomy.

The first official space gazing done here was by the U.S. military in the late 1960s to track satellites and map the Earth from space. The region's still air, high altitude and proximity to a university made it ideal for an observatory. The Smithsonian Institution and the University of Arizona joined forces to construct the Multiple-Mirror Telescope (MMT), the world's third most powerful telescope when it was built in 1979.

Our bus reached the 7,600-foot top three climatic zones later. The ridge featured one of the most discombobulating sights of the entire tour. What looked like a three-story shimmering Op Art installation was actually a reflector used for gamma ray research. A mirror mosaic of more than 200 dinner-plate-sized hexagonal paillettes, its combined power could burn a hole through a 3/8-inch plate of steel if facing the sun, said Saville. We took turns positioning ourselves in front of it to see our piecemeal reflections, giantsized and upside down.

Nearby, three small telescopes huddled in three domed miniobservatories. Inside, the building was freezing cold, cooled to the outside evening temperature to minimize the distorting effects of turbulent heated air. Though jacketless, Saville was unfazed by the chill and regaled us with explanations on topics ranging from refracting vs. reflecting telescopes to planets outside our solar system. At a certain point, my

Surrounded by the Santa Rita Mountains in the Coronado National Forest south of Tucson, the observatory takes advantage of clear views of the night sky to observe gamma-ray flashes and other astronomical phenomena.

fingers became too cold to move a pen, but I remembered this fact: The MMT we were about to see had the power to distinguish George Washington's ear on a quarter from 5 miles away.

After a picnic lunch in a neighboring glade, it was up to the 8,550-foot summit to see the star attraction.

"Multiple-mirror telescope" is no longer an accurate description. In the last decade, engineers replaced the telescope's innovative six 1.8-meter (71-inch) mirrors with a twice-as-powerful design: one gigantic mirror, 6.5 meters (21.3 feet) wide. The effort of transporting this most fragile of objects up the mountainside brought to mind an old Keystone Cops routine, only this one had $20 million and six years of labor at stake. The MMT is housed in a cost-efficient, rectangular building that allows the telescope to move up and down and side to side, reducing "swing space." Moreover, the whole 600-ton building moves, shifting with the telescope.

We crowded onto the fourth-floor observation deck, with a view of the telescope's white rear, trailing elephant trunks of pipes and tangles of yellow and black wires. In front, staff were doing maintenance on the MMT's secondary mirror, pinging and clanking like the sound track for a sci-fi movie.

"You guys are in luck," came a disembodied voice from below. "We're going to move the telescope."

This was a rare treat. Because the telescope works at night, few visitors ever see it move. It tilted upward with a slow grandeur, while emitting robotic bleeps.

Although the movement lasted only seconds, but it felt like the culmination of a great effort. We had climbed a mountain on a pilgrimage to view the behemoth that sees back to the beginnings of the universe. Al LOCATION: Thirty-five miles south of Tucson. GETTING THERE: From Tucson, take Interstate 19 south to Exit 56 (Canoa). Turn left at the bottom of the exit ramp, then right onto the eastside frontage road. Drive 3 miles to Elephant Head Road. Turn left and drive about 1 mile to Mount Hopkins Road. Turn right and drive about 7 miles to the Visitors Center. HOURS: Six-hour tours of the telescopes, held from mid-March through November, are led Monday, Wednesday and Friday. The Visitors Center is open Monday through Friday, 8:30 A.M. to 4:30 P.M. FEES: $7, adults; $2.50, ages 6 to 12. EVENTS: Star Parties, featuring lectures and telescope viewing, are held four Saturdays a year beginning in late afternoon. Call the center for the next date. ADDITIONAL INFORMATION: (520) 670-5707; cfa-www.harvard. edu/flwo/visitcenter.html.