Where can you go from a rainforest to an ocean and then off to the stars, all in two days? Believe it or not, in southern Arizona, if your trip includes Biosphere 2, just north of Tucson and Kitt Peak National Observatory one hour southwest. If you’re looking for fun and fulfilling day trips that whisk you from earthly realms to heavenly bodies, try a day each at these two locales.

Biosphere 2

Two questions occur to me as I approach the engineering marvel that is Biosphere 2 in southern Arizona, just north of Tucson. The first is, how can you possibly pack the world into a giant glass pyramid that covers only 3.15 acres? The second question is, why in the world would you want to?

The reason Biosphere 2 is not called Biosphere 1 is because you are already standing on the latter; it is our earth and all life on it, from bacteria to blue whales. This explanation goes a long ways towards answering the two questions I posed on the way to this gleaming white steel and glass structure that is part colossal greenhouse, part spaceship. Humans have long pondered the possibility of living on other planets. But how, exactly, would we do this on barren orbs with inhospitable — or no — atmosphere, no water and no food source? Well, we might have to bring a little chunk of terra firma with us. Of course, that parcel of mother earth would have to be completely sealed off from the hostile environment. Most importantly, it would have to provide all the services that the earth offers every day: clean water and air, shelter from cosmic radiation, a good thermostat and food. In other words, if a colony of humans does one day list their postal address as Mars, they will likely do so in a biosphere that mimics the ecology of earth. Biosphere 2 was built on earth first (there are currently no construction contractors on Mars) to see if that would be possible.

Easier said than done. The earth is 125.8 billion acres of ocean, rainforest, marshes, deltas, deserts, savannahs and tundra on which 25 million species ply their trades — a web of life that generates a recycling, sustainable life support system. That the creators of Biosphere 2 included even a fraction of this diversity is a wonder. Biosphere 2 contains five biomes (distinct ecological communities). They are: a rainforest, savanna, coastal desert, mangrove marsh and even an “ocean” with nearly a million gallons of saltwater. In all, 3,800 species live in what amounts to a giant terrarium.

Built in the late 1980s with $150 million in funding from Texas oil magnate Edward Bass, Biosphere 2 was such an enormous undertaking that The Learning Channel dubbed it “one of the top 10 engineering feats of the world.” You can learn about its construction from a short film at the visitor center. The 91-foot high, pyramid-like structure, built of 6,600 frames of glass and sealing off 7,200,000 cubic feet of space is one of the most airtight structures in the world. Below ground Biosphere 2 is sequestered from the earth by five hundred tons of welded stainless steel. Insects, animals and plants were collected from around the world — including coral for the small ocean. In 1991, under the gaze of millions of TV viewers, four men and four women — the Biospherians — joined the other 3,799 species for a two-year stay. This experiment would determine whether the ecosystems of Biosphere 2 could provide ample air and water, and whether eight people could live off the produce of a one half acre farm.

Biosphere 2 experienced its share of problems, including a mysterious decline of oxygen in the atmosphere that was finally traced to the curing of the concrete in its basement. At one point the air inside the structure became as thin as the air atop a 13,400 foot mountain and emergency oxygen had to be pumped in. This problem, as well as some less than stringent scientific procedures and social difficulties amongst the crew brought criticism, and even ridicule, to the project. (My thoughts: show me eight people who can get along perfectly in isolation from the rest of the world for two years. Any team of astronauts would encounter these same difficulties, making interpersonal relations as important as technology.) Most of the derisive comments in the scientific community and the press came from the unwillingness of Biosphere 2’s management team to admit the problems that arose. These criticisms should not obscure the achievements of the Biosphere, however. Its eight-member crew set several world records, including the longest time spent living within a completely sealed biosphere. During this time they fed themselves entirely from the half-acre farm — a stupendous feat. And, although they all lost a lot of weight, I haven’t yet heard of a two-year Biospherian diet craze.

Did Biosphere 2 succeed? It depends how you define success — or perhaps how you view failure. I’ve always told my sons that there is no such thing as failure: there’s just an opportunity to learn. After all, if every experiment ended exactly the way we thought it would then experiments wouldn’t be very experimental, would they? I found Biosphere 2 fascinating, illuminating and a tad nutty all at once. You can decide for yourself whether it was foresight or folly when you come visit. Relive the lives of the Biospherians when you take an informative “under the glass” guided tour through the living quarters, kitchen and along an easy path through the artificial environment. For fun, imagine waking and working here every day for two years with the world beyond the glass so close and yet at the same time so far away.

The tour also takes you into the basement “technisphere” to view the extensive machinery that made Biosphere 2 work. You’ll see giant tanks for collecting, cleaning and recycling water, pumps to control the rain that Biospherians could turn on and off as need be, fans to create wind and the ingenious “lungs” that maintained a constant air pressure in the structure. The Biospherians were responsible for the operation and maintenance of all this equipment. Along with farming it added up to 10-hour workdays for them — hardly a leisurely two-year idyll in paradise. After the tour, drop down into the ocean viewing room to gain a fish-eye view of the small sea and the collection of corals that were donated to Biosphere 2.

Located near the small town of Oracle, Biosphere 2 is within easy reach of Phoenix or Tucson. From Phoenix, take I-10 south to the Coolidge turnoff, then take 287 east to 79, head south to 77 and then east till you seen the Biosphere 2 sign. From Tucson, a short drive highway 77 will get you there in half an hour. There is plenty of RV parking.

Why should you come spend the day at Biosphere 2? Do it for a lovely drive in the Santa Catalina Mountains. Do it for the awe of standing within the five-story pyramidal greenhouse. Do it to rediscover the quixotic, questing nature of humans who will go to such great lengths to know more about this inexhaustible story we call life. While you’re there consider, if you will, what this microcosm tells us about the vast world we live in. After all, the builders of Biosphere 2 spent two million dollars just trying to keep eight humans alive for two years in an artificial earth — with mixed results. Meanwhile, our real earth gives us clean air, clean water, abundant food, protection and beauty every day, and never sends a bill. The cost of Biosphere 2 made me more aware of Biosphere 1, the world we never made and perhaps take too much for granted. When all is said and done, the greatest success of this small world under the glass might be the attention it focused on the world outside the glass.

Kitt Peak Observatory

They live by night, these pale shadowy creatures who issue from their dens at the hour that most of us retire cozily behind doors. Solitary and intent, they engage in the ancient ritual of heaven gazing, with the exception that they, unlike their bygone brethren, have forsaken pyramids and stone circles for hundreds of millions of dollars of computer-driven, minutely accurate instrumentation. They are astronomers and they beguile us, the earthbound public, with such esoteric utterances as: “You know I’m an astronomy nerd because I have a list of my five favorite astronomical sites. Most people have lists of favorite movies or songs.”

That is the voice of Jace Eckonrod. He and Chuck Dugan will be our entertaining guides to the Nightly Observing Program at Kitt Peak National Observatory in southern Arizona. There are about thirty of us gathered in the visitor center, munching our box dinners while Chuck illuminates us concerning the history of Kitt Peak and the National Optical Astronomy Observatory (NOAO).

Kitt Peak was the winner of an extensive search by the NOAO for the best site for an extensive astronomical observatory. Clear-skied, natural disaster-free Arizona proved enticing, and the nearby city of Tucson provided access while agreeing to nighttime light limitations. There was only one difficulty. Kitt Peak, originally named Oligam (meaning, manzanita) by the Tohono-O’odham native people, on whose land it resides, is a sacred mountain to these people. Thus began a negotiated partnership of respect between the scientists of NOAO and the Tohono-O’odham who, after viewing the moon and stars from nearby Steward Observatory, name the astronomers, “people with long eyes.” The long eyes now pay the Tohono-O’odham yearly rent for the use of the peak and give them hiring priority for jobs on the mountain. As well, beautiful Tohono-O’odham crafts can be purchased in the Kitt Peak gift shop.

There are a lot of “mosts” on Kitt Peak. For starters, it is the most visited astronomical observatory in the world. Visitors come from all over for daytime tours that take them inside the domes of several telescopes, including the Mayall 4 meter telescope, the largest scope on the mountain — its dome includes an observation deck with a 360 degree view of the surrounding mountains and Sonoran desert. If you wish to stay for the popular Nightly Observing Program make reservations at least a week in advance. Kitt Peak also has the most telescopes ever assembled in one place — twenty-three optical and two radio telescopes. And, although it no longer boasts the biggest scopes, it hosts the most diverse collection. From this single mountain astronomers monitor the spots on our closest star, the sun, and the spin of distant galaxies. Numerous important astronomical discoveries are attributed to Kitt Peak.

Getting here is easy. Just get out your sextant and navigate to 31° 57.5’ N, 111° 35.8’ W. In driver friendly terms, take Highway 86 (Ajo Drive) southwest from Tuscon until you come to 386, the turnoff for Kitt Peak. This is a long, curvy — though RV accessible — road of up to six percent grades so drive with care and use the turnouts to admire the beautiful views. From a base of 3,200 feet, Kitt Peak rises to 6,800 feet: the granite summit of the Quinlan Mountains. This means that you will migrate from an arid ecology of saguaros and mesquite at the bottom to a “sky-island” at the top. Down there the desert receives 10 inches of rain a year; the summit gets 18, much of it in the form of winter snows. Watch for the change from cactus to oaks and pines. Also, watch for wildlife, including the exotic coatamundi — a raccoon like critter that will be watching for you.

Two warnings accompany heights in the desert; be aware of them and your visit will be more enjoyable. Astronomers refer to our sun as an “average star.” During the day at nearly 7,000 feet this average star can burn you within minutes. Bring sunscreen and a hat, as well as plenty of water — the body loses moisture quickly in this high and dry environment. At night the temperature drops as quickly as the setting sun, and the wind tends to kick up, too. The night I was there the nocturnal temperature, with wind chill, was about 39 degrees Fahrenheit. It may seem odd in the warmth of the day below, but bring a coat — even in summer.

By the end of our introduction it’s time for a glorious sunset; we are guided to the eastern rim of the summit to take it in, as well as to meet SARA, a southern charmer of a telescope operated remotely by six southeastern universities. SARA — and most telescopes on the mountain — dispels the myth of the hermit astronomer, huddled in his dome peering at the heavens. Few astronomers actually look through telescopes anymore. Instead, robotic telescopes equipped with digital cameras snap pics of pulsars and post them on the Internet to be pondered in far-flung labs.

Jackets go on as the dark gathers and we are issued star charts and nifty little red lights to read them by (night vision-destroying white lights are forbidden on the mountain) as well as binoculars. Wait a minute — binoculars? On this mountain covered with some of the world’s most powerful telescopes? Well, first Jace and Chuck are going to orient us to the night sky and show us what can be seen with these smallest of telescopes. To begin, we are directed to the little dipper; then, by following an imaginary line from the two bright stars of the ladle we come to Polaris, the North Star. Polaris is like the home base of the night sky. From here a short visual jaunt takes us to Arcturus. Then on to Virgo. Then Jupiter — raise your binoculars and you can see two of its moons! And here, between two bright stars is a fuzzy patch that reveals itself to be a globular cluster (best described as a ton of neighborly stars). As it turns out, a lot can be seen with binoculars. I am amazed — and hooked. Astronomy is fun.

Suddenly I realize that the night sky appears to our astro-guides like their neighborhood block. They can actually tell one constellation from another in that sidereal stew; they know which is a planet, which is a star and which…a comet. Old friends greet them when they cast their eyes aloft. Oh, there’s Alpha Proximi. How you doin’, Alpha P? There’s Leo. (I see a question mark, not a lion until Jace traces the beast.) Here’s the outline of Orion and here are the two hounds he takes hunting. Patiently they coax our imaginations into full gear, as they sketch the outlines of the constellations with green lasers so powerful that they seem to make it all the way to the star being showcased. Pretty soon, we know our way around the block, too.

Thus oriented, we head for the big scope. The popularity of the program has dictated the use of two domes. My group assembles around the 20-inch visitor scope. Jace puts on classical music and introduces us to his favorite sights as, one by one, we approach the scope to “ooh” and “ahh” the rings and moons of Saturn, a vastly distant whirlpool galaxy, a binary star system (with two stars, blue and gold)

We have stars in our eyes. And as we drive down off the mountain, headlights dimmed, I have only one word to describe the evening — stellar.

the lonely comet, Machholz, making its astral rounds and much more. In the chill of the dome open to the wind and stars we become astronomical nerds with long eyes. We have stars in our eyes. And as we drive down off the mountain, headlights dimmed, I have only one word to describe the evening — stellar.