Joshua Lott for The New York Times:
The Fred Lawrence Whipple Observatory at Mount
Hopkins, Ariz.
MOUNT HOPKINS, Ariz. — There is no Border
Patrol
in space. But the very earthly cat-and-mouse game between smugglers and
America’s border agents is affecting the exploration of space, lighting
up the nighttime sky in southern Arizona and making astronomers strain
even harder to figure out the mysteries of the universe.
Arizona is an astronomy haven with an array of prestigious
observatories taking advantage of the state’s dry weather, minimal
cloud cover and dark skies. But the state’s astronomers worry about a
variety of threats — border enforcement among them — to the pristine
conditions that have allowed them to discover new planets, gain
important insights into how the universe functions and generate
hundreds of millions of dollars annually in economic return.
Drug smugglers and illegal immigrants making their way north are
sometimes visible to astronomers at the Fred Lawrence Whipple
Observatory here who take a break from gazing skyward to look around
the rough, wooded terrain. But it is not the outlaws that affect their
work as much as the authorities who are after them.
A Border Patrol helicopter shining a blinding beam on a group of
suspects runs the risk of interfering with valuable machinery trained
upward, like the four massive telescopes, known as Veritas or the Very
Energetic Radiation Telescope Array System, that measure gamma rays.
“It’s happened,” said Dan Brocious, spokesman for the observatory,
which is jointly run by the Smithsonian Institution and Harvard
University and has operated atop this mountaintop since 1968.
The Border Patrol says that it tries to steer its helicopters clear
of
observatories, but that frequent staff turnover has occasionally
resulted in missteps.
The checkpoints that the Border Patrol has set up around southern
Arizona, complete with high-powered beams to light them up at night,
have been another sore point, prompting meetings between area
astronomers and agents and a pledge from the Border Patrol to reduce
the wattage. The lights are among the brightest points now visible at
night in the area, astronomers say.
But even car headlights can be a problem for sensitive stargazing,
which is why signs along the winding road that leads to the observatory
urge drivers to use only their parking lights after dark. The nearly 50
years since the Whipple Observatory was built here in the Coronado
National Forest have brought retirement communities, shopping malls and
assorted other developments to the area, all of which have boosted the
light levels detected by astronomers scrutinizing the sky.
Wildfires are another concern in the remote areas where the
observatories are located. In 2005, a fire that was caused by a
lightning strike came within less than a mile of the Whipple
Observatory, which had to be evacuated until firefighters, aided by a
sudden rainstorm, were able to control it.
Earlier this year, a fire west of Nogales prompted a brief closing
of
the MMT Observatory, which is also atop Mount Hopkins. The
observatory’s large telescope, 21 feet in diameter, is the 14th largest
in the world and is sought after by researchers looking into deep
space. Besides less-than-optimal viewing conditions caused by the fire,
operators were worried about the buildup of ash on the lens.
Well after the sun has set, from 8,500 feet up on Mount Hopkins, the
second-highest peak in the Santa Rita Range, one can observe both the
majestic nature of the universe and the threats to the stargazing that
has long gone on here. Competing with moonlight are street lights,
traffic lights, security lights and innumerable other forms of
illumination. To the north is the Tucson skyline, a vast expanse of
soft white and yellow light, which has been managed by municipal
dark-sky restrictions and has not grown in intensity anywhere near as
fast as the population.
Astronomers are a powerful lobby here when it comes to keeping the
skies dark at night, and nearby Tucson is the headquarters for the
International Dark-Sky Association, which attempts to press for light
restrictions around the world. “Light pollution is an issue all over
the world,” said Paul J. Groot, an astronomer from the Netherlands who
was conducting research on the source of X-rays from other galaxies at
the MMT Observatory this week. “It limits our deep observation of the
night sky.”
An open-pit copper mine that is proposed for an area southeast of
Tucson and would operate around the clock has alarmed dark-sky
advocates, even though the Rosemont Copper Company has said it plans to
abide by Pima County’s restrictions on light pollution.
“When these observatories were selected, there was hardly anyone
living
here,” Mr. Brocious said atop the mountain as darkness and light seemed
to compete in all directions. “Tucson was a sleepy little cow town back
then. There’s nothing sleepy about it now.”