Telescope city

Kitt Peak National Observatory (KPNO) in Arizona, and its sister observatory Cerro Tololo Inter-American Observatory (CTIO) in Chile, are incredibly interesting for the diversity in telescopes at each location.  These observatories are like miniature mountain-top cities, with dynamic citizenships of astronomers and support staff, and skylines dominated by domes that house diverse telescopes.  It is the diversity and the complexity of the instruments that intrigue me, leading me to wander around all of the domes on afternoon walks or during cloudy-nights, when the weather dictates that we take a break from observing. 

As a final Kitt Peak post, I will present a few photographs of the telescopes at Kitt Peak.  In fact, KPNO is so sprawling that I could only visit the telescopes in closest proximity to WIYN.  Others could be viewed from a distance, across the peaks.  In all, KPNO is home to 22 optical and 2 radio telescopes.

The Mayall 4 meter telescope.  This was the 2nd largest optical telescope in 1973.  Its twin, the Blanco 4 meter telescope, was built in Chile a few years later. The Mayall maintains its retro look, especially in the wood-paneled control room.

University of Arizona's Steward Observatory Bok Telescope.  A 90 inch reflector telescope accessible by a spiral staircase, this dome was fondly described to me as the spray-paint can for its unique outward appearance.  The Mayall 4m overlooks in the background.

Left to right, the WIYN 0.9m, a smaller telescope for public outreach, and the WIYN 3.5m telescope.  Notice the 3.5m dome is rather angular, and designed to be very compact.

Here I tried to get as many telescopes as possible in one shot.

And more telescopes.  In the far left is the solar telescope, pictured in a previous post. To the right is the "Spacewatch" telescope, responsible for discovering the asteroid 2005 YU55, which recently passed between the Earth and the moon.

Seeing colors

Data are awesome and I have been known to call a spectrum beautiful, but the images that we're taking here may not be what you consider "pretty".  Here's one of the images (preliminary results) we took the other night:

Exciting and interesting, huh?  The even more intriguing part is that the bright points you see are not actually what we're looking for.  The reason why I have a "job" as a grad student is because when I come down the mountain from an observing run, there is plenty of work to be done to reduce the data.  When we correct for electronic and sky noise, calibrations, etc, faint features will pop out and we will be able to tell what exactly is happening in this region.  So, what is happening in this region?  Well, here is a much nicer picture to show the complex activity in the area of the sky where we point our telescope:

The image above was taken with Spitzer Space Telescope and it shows the region NGC 1333, a young cluster where star formation is very active.  This star forming region is the focus of my dissertation, and quickly becoming my favorite zip code in the Universe.  NGC 1333 is located in the direction of the Perseus constellation, about 1000 light years away from us and it has been forming stars for (only) about 1 million years.  The colors above represent different infrared wavelengths, and signify gas of various temperature, density and composition.  With the WIYN telescope we're looking at yet another wavelength of near-infrared light, and with CARMA (from previous posts) we were looking at millimeter-wavelength light. 

Looking at the same region in various wavelengths (colors) tells us a lot about the activity of forming stars.  As stars form, some gas is ejected outward in what are known as "bipolar outflows".  These ejections shock the surrounding gas, and that gas emits light.  Depending on what wavelength of light is emitted, we can tell what type of gas, and how much energy is in a star forming region.  This is important for understanding how stars form, how long they will be forming, and what might eventually halt further formation of stars in a cluster.

My observations at WIYN will tell about the shocked gas in the region NGC 1333.  In 2008 my professor made similar observations, and now we can tell what has changed in this region in the three years since.  How fast is the gas being ejected from regions where stars are known to be forming, and in what direction?  Stay tuned...

WTF WTTM!!!

I should begin by documenting the fact that last night the telescope operator told me that I must be a glutton for punishment.  Unsure of how to take that, I hesitated a moment so that she would explain, and she did so by telling me that most astronomers don't stay up the whole night before their run just to watch someone else observe, and then proceed to stay up the entire first night of a run marred by clouds and humidity.  She seemed to imply that others would have given up.  But not me!  I prefer to call it optimism, not gluttony and certainly not punishment.

Sunsets seen from the mountain are really pleasant times during an observing run.  Zen moments before the rush to observe.

Well, to further prove my naivety as an observer, tonight we attempted (and had some success!!) to use an instrument here called the "WIYN Tip Tilt Module (WTTM)", which uses a form of adaptive optics to correct for instabilities in the atmosphere and make our images more crisp.  WTTM does this by making small adjustments in the orientation of its optics, keeping a (bright) guide star stable in the field of view.  This adds a level of complexity to the observations, and the telescope operator must pay much more attention to the observing set-up.  As a result, using WTTM can sometimes be less efficient, and often times much more frustrating, than typical guiding.

But, that didn't scare me!  Two telescope operators were working together to make WTTM a success, and we forged ahead with several really great observations.  Then, some clouds rolled in, leaving our guide star obscured, and coaxing us back to our alternate observing method, which still requires a guide star, but the star can be fainter and the guiding is less complex.  We're continuing with our observations, and several breaks in the clouds have given us very good conditions (also known as "good seeing").  

What have I learned about WTTM?  Don't be afraid of a little challenge if it means the data are better.  After all, I don't do astronomy because it's easy, but rather because the journey is always exciting and I'm bound to learn something(s) new along the way. 

Clear skies?

We shut down last night around 4 am due to high humidity and threats of snow.  Ready for some sleep, I set my alarm for the early afternoon, giving me enough time to take a walk around the mountain before meeting the scientist/support staff who would teach me how to operate the instrument I'll be using for the next four nights.  I woke up to fresh snow on the ground but some sun, which was soon trailed by thick fog and clouds.  Ever optimistic, I hoped this oppressive weather would blow through, so I took my walk, and got ready for the afternoon. 

Too much fog over the WIYN telescope.  No clear skies for now.

Something I especially love about visiting major observatories is seeing the variety of telescopes, and meeting the scientists using those telescopes.  Just in a 30 minute walk, you can see so many different styles, sizes, and generations of telescopes. One really cool telescope here is a McMath-Pierce solar telescope, built in the 1960s.  Although the mirror is just 1.6m, the light travels along a really long path below-ground, making this structure appear to be on the verge of take-off into outer space.

The solar telescope.  Notice the old rec facilities in the foreground.  Astronomers clearly have no time for fun.

Another cool facility here, and particularly relevant these days, is the Spacewatch telescope, which monitors near-earth objects which may be a hazard to Earth.  This is where scientists discovered the asteroid 2005 YU55, a rock the size of a city block that will travel within the orbit of the moon tomorrow night.  Plans are being made to use this telescope to observe this object again, although it will be extremely challenging due to the objects high velocity.  Tomorrow should be an exciting day to be at the observatory.

I'm able to report about my afternoon, and the interesting telescopes nearby, because sadly we haven't been able to open our dome tonight for our own observations.  Why? The humidity is too high.  There are certain regulations for when we can open the dome, and it must be dry enough so that the optics and instruments won't be compromised.  

Alas, there are no rain checks for astronomers, and we are at the mercy of the weather gods. So, what do we do when we can't open the dome to take a look at the sky?  Well, at least this gave me a few extra hours to plan my observations (fingers crossed, hoping that it will clear up).  We don't want to head down the mountain yet and give up altogether.  To keep our spirits up, another staff member here came by for a visit.  She told us all about her adventures site testing at another telescope on the Canary Islands -- equipped with heavy parkas and boots on charter planes alongside holiday-bound Europeans, hiring donkeys to carry their gear up the mountain, no comfortable housing options or control rooms, but plenty of excitement of course.

The characters I have met while observing make this experience all the more interesting, and I hope that I will have my own adventures to share with future generations on observing runs to come.  As for now, at least we can see some stars instead of just clouds.  Let's hope the air dries out and we can open the dome for a while at least.  I'll let you know what we see!

Adventures at Kitt Peak National Observatory

I am excited to add another major observatory to my list of observing experiences, and hence an occasion to continue my blog.  Kitt Peak National Observatory (KPNO) is located in Arizona, southwest of Tucson, and I will be here for 5 nights.  Already, even my travels to the mountain have been enjoyable, although somewhat rocky. 

The fortunate part of traveling through Tucson was that I could spend one night with my adviser from my time doing research in Chile, Dr. Simon Schuler.  Simon works at the National Optical Astronomy Observatory (NOAO), which runs KPNO.  In the time since I was working with Simon, he married his wife Nancy, moved to Tucson, and most recently had a beautiful baby girl, Evie.  It was a real pleasure to spend some time with their family, and I'm excited to see Evie in the coming years as she grows into a soccer player, scientist, and many more incredible things I'm sure.

This is somewhat a diversion from my real purpose here, which is to observe using the WIYN (Wisconsin-Indiana-Yale-NOAO) 3.5m telescope.  I consider this experience a big step in my "career", as it's the first time I will be observing as a solo astronomer (with the assistance of the telescope operator, of course). As flustered as I was to plan my travel to Tucson and prepare my own observations, learning about how the telescope functions and deciding my observing plan, I realized at the last minute that I had no confirmation of how I would actually get to the telescope from Tucson.  Fortunately Simon was "in the know" and helped me find a security guard at NOAO in Tucson, who called in permission to leave me with a set of keys to the NOAO-emblazoned Ford Escape Hybrid.  Behind the wheel, I got on the road excited for the hour and a half drive up the mountain...  Good thing I love to drive, and I love wide open spaces! 

Here's my first view of Kitt Peak (and the giant 4-m telescope dome)

Once at KPNO, I found the WIYN house and then proceeded to the WIYN telescope, where I met the two other observers here prior to me.  They are observing star clusters using the same instrument that I will be using, and they very generously allowed me to "observe" them observing for one night.  I was taking notes, learning the drill, and generally getting adjusted to life at the telescope.  I also took a walk over to the 4-meter telescope to see a friend of mine from Clemson who's observing supernovae, and she showed me around the giant, vintage telescope dome. 


Tonight their observations lasted about 9 hours (before humidity set in and the dome was closed), a welcome improvement over the previous nights of clouds and snow.  We may have some snow for our walk down to the house, but hopefully it will blow through before my observations officially begin tomorrow night.