We arrived at night, so I didn't actually get to see the landscape on the way up to the mountain. On the way down I discovered that it's an amazingly desolate scene -- black volcanic lava flows which sometimes look fluid, often jagged. There are some trees and low shrubs, and surprisingly as you near the base camp, there are cattle ranches! The rapidity with which life recolonizes these areas is impressive as well -- you can see the slow advance of green as you travel up the slope of the mountain.
The base camp for all the astronomers is called Hale' Pohaku, and is at an altitude of about 9,000 feet. The complex comprises a main common building (cafeteria, computer rooms, recreation, etc.), three dormitories, and various maintainance buildings. It's really quite dry, but luckily there's plently to drink (which is encouraged). I myself didn't feel particularly disoriented when I arrived at 9,000ft -- that came later up the mountain...
On the left, the main building.
One of the dormitories on the very right. The land is
extremely dry, but we actually
saw some small animals here.
I walked up a dusty maintainance
road, and here is a view looking down the slope onto
the base camp. The
incredibly long slope of Mauna Loa is in the background rising to the right.
Around the base camp, there
are lots of small craters, like the one on the far left in this picture.
From this view, standing
on top of one of these, you can see Hale' Pohaku (base camp), and
the zigzagging (dirt) access
road up the mountain in the background. There's also a visitor's
center
in the foreground (not the
two white roofs, but the building behind that) where visitors are encouraged
to wait before proceeding
up the mountain (and discouraged from trying it with a 2-wheel drive vehicle).
This is the view facing
the opposite way from that same crater, now looking down the mountain.
The base camp itself is
often above the cloud inversion layer, which attests to the excellent observing
conditions at this site.
Only on one afternoon out of the five days I was there did the clouds rise
above
this typical altitude limit.
The ground color varies
quite a lot (due to iron content I suppose), and
as you can see in this picture,
can go from almost red to dark green/brown.
One more photo, looking
down the slope of the mountain again.
Driving to the top of the
mountain from Hale' Pohaku takes about half an hour,
and I think the drive is
something like 15 miles on very winding roads. We would
drive to the top each day
just before sunset, and it wasn't uncommon to see vanloads
of people driving up as
well to catch a glimpse of this terrific sunset.
Here's the view from our
jeep going up the mountain. The road here is paved, but in fact
it's a dirt road for the
steepest first half of the trip from Hale' Pohaku. You can see here
(starting from the left)
the CFHT (Canada-France-Hawaii-Telescope, 3.6m), the Gemini
8m telescope, and one of
the University of Hawaii's telescopes (2.2m). All of the telescopes
are mindblowingly big up
here, and the pictures don't seem to do justice to the sheer awe
I experienced when seeing
them for the first time.
We were observing at the
IRTF (NASA's Infrared Telescope Facility), which ironically I
don't have a picture of.
But from our front steps there's a great view of the double Keck telescopes.
Here are a series of pictures
taken around sunset!


I was surprised how quickly
and how much I felt the effects of altitude -- just a few minutes after
reaching the top on the first night, I experienced a mild headache, and
doing any kind of physical task (like walking) took the wind out of me.
It didn't help that we had to observe all night, but after an aspirin,
things got better. Gradually over the next four days, the effects
became milder each time we went up to the top.
Once every few hours during
the night, we'd go outside and survey the sky for high
cirrus that would contaminate
our observations. In general, we were lucky and didn't
get much of this, but this
did give us the opportunity to use some pretty neat night vision
goggles:
Even though the site is
*very* dark, you can see the lights of nearby towns with the
image intensification.
During the drive down the
mountain, the view of Mauna Loa (in the background here) is
amazing. The slope
is so gentle (the longest slope in the world, counting the underwater part...)
that the peak doesn't look
that high. But in fact, it's 13,677 feet. There are no telescopes
on this mountain (still
an active volcano?), but the NOAA has a weather observatory there.
In the two days that I had
after our observing run, I went to some pretty interesting places.
First, Hawaii Volcanoes
National Park:
Even before arriving at
the caldera, there are indications that the entire region is an active
geothermal area. Here's
a place called Sulphur Springs, where you can walk on a mile or so
long path, and come across
cracks and fissures in the ground out of which steam and of course,
sulphurous smells are expelled.
The crack in this picture is just a small segment of a very long opening in the ground that must run for over 100 yards. It also has numerous smaller holes and openings that run beside it, all belching steam (next picture). The ground is actually warm to the touch here!
Interesting to me was the
fact that by just walking about 100 yards away from the beaten path and
road, I didn't see a single other person for about two hours. Keep
in mind that this is a very popular park. I guess most people just
stay with their buses and cars, and get out to take a look when there's
a turnoff on the road. It's really a shame (for them, but nice for
me) that few people choose to explore further -- the paths are really quiet
and peaceful.
Here's another fissure in
the ground, and in the background you can
see a small glimpse of the
crater, which is also mind-bogglingly huge.
As I walked up the path,
which seems like any other sort of
grassland environment, I
was completely unprepared for the scale
of devastation upon reaching
the edge of the Kilauea caldera, shown in the panorama here:
Again, you can see
steam rising out of the ground near the path. This covers almost
180 degrees of view, and is really incredible. The crater is some
5 miles across, and the scene is otherworldly. You can actually walk
down there, but few people do -- it's a long way across and the weather
changed rapidly on the day I was there.
Here are some more photos
of the caldera. You can see that there's a second crater within the
larger one -- it's called
Halema'uma'u, and it's about 1/2 a mile across.


The sulphur-yellow features
are quite obvious in Halema'uma'u. This is a still a very hot
and active area within the
larger crater.

In many places on the island,
the lava flows from Mauna Loa have intersected
with human development.
This picture shows a lava flow from 1974 that cut
through a road. In
the background is the treeline, showing the extent of the flow.
Here's the road that the
lava cut through, which obviously had to be recut and paved.
I spent my two extra days
exploring from Hilo, a rather industrial town (as opposed to Kona, the
very touristy resort town on the other side of the island). Hilo
is quite close to the Volcanoes National Park and lots of other water-based
scenery...
These may look like any
old bamboo stands, but each bamboo stalk
is about as thick as a three
liter plastic soda bottle.
This is a view of Akaka
Falls -- it was very misty that morning, and the
contrast is kind of low.
It began pouring about 3 minutes after this.
I decided to drive to the
southeastern point of the island, supposedly the southermost point in the
United States. Along the way were
some beautiful views of
what is basically a rain forest:
The road to the tip of the
island is unmarked, and unpaved dirt. There isn't much to see
out at the point, except
for a metal lighthouse structure and ocean all the way to California: