Last weekend, I took a drive to Lick Observatory, which is technically in San Jose yet thousands of feet above it. As the crow flies, it’s about 14 miles from downtown, but in actual terms it’s 24 miles… and it takes a bit more than an hour to drive there. That’s because the road to the observatory was built in the 19th century to accommodate the horses used for construction, keeping the grade low. The narrow road winds through the foothills east of the city and up Mount Hamilton, with 365 pretty sharp curves and switchbacks along the way. Despite the reckless behavior of motorcyclists, I found it wise not to exceed 20 miles per hour on the trip.
The drive is tantalizing: round a corner and you suddenly realize how far up you’ve gone because a panorama is unveiled before you, mountains shrouded in clouds — and there is a point when you discover that the clouds are below you. The gradual grade of the road means that you don’t have a sense of going up a mountain so high.
One sees the observatory many times, just beyond trees or behind a ridge, but every curve means that you’re not as close as you think. Finally, upon arrival at the summit 4,200 feet above sea level, one parks at the observatory’s main building and looks across the parking lot to see the entire Bay Area from north of San Francisco to south of San Jose, spread out like a miniature 2D model.
The Lick Observatory itself is one of those old buildings that aren’t built like that anymore. Even the door hinges are beautiful. Inside are displays of astronomical photos taken by the observatory, along with some interesting artifacts such as the only seismographical record of the 1906 San Francisco earthquake. (There’s a modern seismograph there as well, with the plot from October 30 last year when we had the 5.6 earthquake; the trace goes wildly off the map for a while and there are seemingly hundreds of aftershocks on the graph.)
The highlight, of course, is the great Lick Refractor, an enormous telescope housed within a beautiful dome with inlaid floors and steampunk architecture. Informal talks are given every half hour in the dome at no charge by knowledgeable University of California docents.
I was most interested in how astronomers manage to reach the telescope. Photos show the eyepiece at, well, eye level; but while I was there the telescope was a good 20 feet above. Does the telescope move up and down? The answer was fascinating. The beautiful inlaid wood floor actually rises and lowers around the central telescope pier through hydraulic power. A water tank on the next, higher peak provided the hydraulic lift in the 1800s when electricity had yet to reach Mt. Hamilton.
One last bit of slightly disturbing trivia: James Lick, the man whose fortune built the observatory, never made it to the top of Mt. Hamilton — until he died. His body is interred at the base of the telecope’s pier, beneath the rising and lowering floor where, hidden from view, a plaque marks his final resting place.
Last weekend, I took a drive to Lick Observatory, which is technically in San Jose yet thousands of feet above it. As the crow flies, it’s about 14 miles from downtown, but in actual terms it’s 24 miles… and it takes a bit more than an hour to drive there.
Fighting the urge to ask how far you’d drive for a good Lick….
I read your description of the trip up, and as a cyclist my mouth is salivating for a challenging climb with (what I assume is) some great scenery. Just wondering- did you see anyone on road bikes?
Very cool! Raising the floor, what a concept, but of course it would be important to keep the telescope as steady as possible. Any yeah the inside of the dome looks really cool, as you say ‘steampunk’ with that kind of Jules Verne feel to it.