Ever since I was a kid and saw the movie Independence Day, I wanted to go somewhere in the middle of a desert with huge satellites. I don't know what it was about that scene that seemed so cool, but it's been on my bucket list ever since. Upon entering the Visitors Center, I read a poster talking about movies and TV shows that recorded scenes at the VLA, and wouldn't you know it, Independence Day was on the list. My dream is coming true.
Let me take a moment to science you: all forms of waves are light. The light we use to see is called visual light and is a fraction of the spectrum of lights that exist in the universe. Near the low frequency end of the spectrum is radio waves. It was discovered by Karl G. Jansky that most everything in space emits radio waves. Knowing this, we can use radio satellites to pick up on properties of objects in space we can't pick up on with visual telescopes. Things such as chemical composition, the direction of moving gases, and how things were moving before we took a look at them to give us an explanation of how they got there in the first place. It's harder to capture radio waves than visual light though, so to capture radio waves at the same distance of the most powerful telescopes, the satellite required would have to be huge. Like, miles across huge. Or, you could be the VLA.
The VLA works by having 27 smaller satellites rather than 1 big one. 3 groups of 9 are aligned 120 degrees apart from a center point, similar to a “Y” shape (known as the “Wye”). Depending on how far apart the satellites on each branch of the Wye are determines how much depth is captured of the object being looked at in space. There are 4 positions of the VLA labeled A through D. Each position spreads the satellites further apart with the largest position being, if I recall correctly, 7 miles across. Once the satellites have looked at an object in all 4 positions, the images are layered to create one, super-detailed, model. To make this work though, the satellites must be moved...
...which is done with railroad tracks! A special machine, which I couldn't find to take a picture of, runs along the tracks, rotates itself 90 degrees, at the pictured intersection, to ride on a perpendicular track (seen here),
and sets down or picks up the satellite.
The feet of the satellite are then bolted onto immobile stands and it's plugged into the computer connection of that, one could say, parking spot.
Sometimes the satellites need maintenance. When that's the case, they're taken to “The Barn”. They're taken there in the same fashion they're moved along the Wye.
The VLA is located in the middle of nowhere to defend against man made waves. You aren't allowed to have your cellphone on when you visit because the waves of a cellphone are more than a billion times more powerful than the ones being captured from space, so they tend to cause interference. Being in the middle of nowhere, it takes quite some time to get to my next location though, so I stop at a picnic area and eat the leftovers of my huevos rancheros. I wasn't sure if eggs left in a trunk over night would be good, but they were great, and I haven't thrown up yet.
My next destination is Santa Fe to see the New Mexican capitol building, and I've gotta say, it's refreshing to see something new. The New Mexican capitol is completely round with a flat front. The New Mexican capitol says, "We aren't in Greece, forget cylindrical columns!," and that's something I can appreciate. It's also different in that most of the architecture around the building is art rather than memorials.
I can't help but think this one has a slight political agenda though.
Like it's capitol building, the architecture of the entire city of Santa Fe is unique. All the buildings have a pueblo look that makes me think, "Santa Fe: it puts the Mexico in New Mexico."
The town has a tight, social feeling about it. It doesn't quite have the overpopulation of most major cities. The best way I can describe it is like Charleston but in the desert: seems like a fun place to take a vacation. I can't help but notice one other unique thing. Something I considered not writing because I didn't want it to be "that type of blog", but all the women in Santa Fe had big butts. You could tell there was a large Hispanic population, but it wasn't just the Hispanic women: ALL the women had big butts. This made me think, maybe genetics has nothing to do with Hispanic women having big butts. Maybe it's a cultural thing. My best guess is that it's something in the food, and if that's the case, we need to find out what it is, surplus it, and hand out coupons for it across the nation.
As I head north, I take a look at the sky ahead. It's dark. Really dark. And so, willingly, I give up the sunshine of New Mexico to head to Colorado. Before I can cross the border, clouds have overtaken the sky. It's like everywhere but New Mexico is cursed.
My plan for the next day is to visit the Great Sand Dunes National Park. One of the things the site suggest doing is sand-boarding/-sledding. That sounds like exactly the type of thing I'd enjoy doing, so I visit Kristi Sporting Goods, a place where sandboards can be rented. Inside, I tell one of the employees (seemed like the manager) that I want to sandboard, but the way the weather's been, does he think it'll be more snowy or sandy and what should I do in either case?
"Well, it's been surprisingly warm the past couple days, but I had some people come in earlier this week and say the dunes had snow on one side of them and not on the other, so you're probably gonna see a mixture of both, but you should see plenty of sand."
"So it would be worthwhile to get a sandboard?"
"Well, I'm not sure about a sand-BOARD. They may look it, but sandboards are definitely not snowboards; it's basically a piece of plywood that you wax and it's not meant to hit water at all, so if you hit the snow while you're going down, it'll get real dangerous real quick. If it's your first time doing this, I'd suggest a sandsled."
Heeding his advice, I rent a sandsled. After a quick bite to eat I realize something...I took the highway to get here. Most everywhere I go I take the interstate, but I had to take the highway today. Highways don't have Rest Areas. I pull up my GPS. It can't be too far to the inter-an hour and 19 minutes?! You've gotta be kidding me! I have to travel an hour and 19 minutes to get to an interstate? And then I still have to get to a Rest Area from there!
I consider renting a room but don't want to spend the money. While the gas station in Lynchburg worked, I most definitely have been enjoying the comfort of my Rest Areas. You don't have to worry about someone kicking you off their property (mostly). If you have to poop in the middle of the night, you don't have to worry they're going to charge you for it. I've become dependent...I can't sleep tonight unless it's at a Rest Area...I guess I've got no choice but to drive.
And so, I start to drive an hour and 19 minutes east to hit the interstate. About 10 minutes in, it begins to snow. Being Colorado, I figured the roads would already be prepped for this kind of event, but they aren't; these roads aren't salted. The snow is just sticking to them. Not being used to this weather, I'm already worried about slipping, so I slow down, but I know I've gotta keep going. Eventually, the highway I'm on leads into the mountains. Now I'm on a winding, snowy trail, and there's not even a place to pull over. This is when I begin to panic. I'm very lucky because, like the night towards Amarillo, I catch up to a trucker. Now I feel a little better. I'm sure he knows at least somewhat how to drive in this, so as long as I follow him from a safe distance, I should make it out of here. I keep expecting the snow to end, but it doesn't. About half way through the mountains I can't see the lines in the road anymore. Our side of the road is supposed to be 2 lanes, but I decide to just drive in the middle: the trucker does the same. The snow gets thicker and thicker and the sky gets darker and darker. I do my best to keep a safe distance between us, but if I get too far away, I can't even see his lights anymore. At a certain point, the trucker actually goes faster. I wonder why, and the worst comes to mind...if we don't get out of here fast, we're gonna be stuck. The snow has already built up several inches, and what was already supposed to be over an hour long trip has become even longer because of how slow we're going. We've gotta go faster or we're gonna be stuck in the middle of a mountain passage that other people are sure to be traveling on. And if that happens, we're gonna get hit. And if that happens, we are going to die.
I. Lose. My. Shit.
The entire rest of the mountain trail I'm gripped tight on the wheel. There are cars behind us actually tailgating each other. You've gotta be kidding me. I understand I'm not used to driving in this weather, but these people can't believe that if the car in front of them slams on brakes they're gonna have time to stop. So now I'm driving in a mountain, at night, while it's snowing, and people are clustering behind me. I have literally put myself in almost the worst possible situation for this drive. If the trucker hadn't been there is the only way it could have been worse. Thank God for truckers. They've earned a unique respect from me while traveling that I plan on writing about later, but for now, just thank God for them.
We finally make it to an area that's been snowplowed. The truck pulls over: he wants to get out of the way so the faster cars can get by. Now I'm in the lead...Shit, now I'm in the lead! I didn't want this position! Now I've got a line full of angry Coloradins on my ass. Luckily, the person directly behind me isn't too bad, but I see the line behind him, and it makes me feel pressured. We aren't out of the mountains yet, and I can't see beyond 20 feet in front of me without my brights. The 3rd person in line passes the 2nd to be right behind me, and this guy is angry. He wants to know why we aren't all going 10 over the speed limit in a snow storm. He passes me and I speed up a little bit knowing I can follow his trail, but he eventually gets away. We finally get out of the mountains and hit a small town near the interstate. I pull over to let all the other cars pass.
"I'm almost there," I think to myself. "The nearest Rest Area is 17 miles down the interstate. I survived the mountain, I can survive the interstate."
The entire interstate is like Amarillo, but this time there are no trucks. It's also a lot windier ("wynd"-ier, not "wind"-ier). There are times when I prepare to turn the wheel because I think a curve is coming up only to find out I'm supposed to go straight. Every time it happens a shock gets sent up my gut. I finally see a sign for the rest area: 2 miles ahead. And so I wait, continuing through to the end...and I wait...and I wait some more...where is it? I've gone at least 2 miles. Where is it!? It said 2 miles! I've gone at least 2 miles, where are you! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE HERE!!
I know I've gone way farther than it could've been. How do you not see the thing you've driven over an hour and a half to get to? I take an exit and collect myself.
It's not that big a deal. You're gonna find out what happened. You survived the mountain, you're gonna survive this.
I look at my Rest Area website. The site says the Rest Area is off an Exit. Other Rest Areas are at Mile Markers, but this one is apparently off the actual exit. I've never seen that before, but that must be what happened.
So I get back on the interstate. I'm quite a few miles away now, but not far enough to panic. Not close enough to relax either, though. The fat lady's not gonna sing until I'm in park, in a parking spot, with the parking brake on, and the engine off.
I take the exit. There it is. It actually exist! I slowly pull in; so much snow on the ground. Within 2 days, Colorado has managed to trump Amarillo for worst drive of my life. As I pull into the parking spot and turn the car off, I think...not today Colorado...you aren't gonna kill me today. But don't worry, you've got about a week to keep trying.
I look at my phone. I've got an email from my cousin, Josh. He says he's got a few free hotel stays he wants me to use while I'm on the road. My normal response to such an offer would be, “I'll take em if you aren't gonna use em, but I don't wanna take something you can use,” but tonight is not a normal night. Tonight, my response is closer to, “Hell yeah, I'll take your damn free hotel stays!”
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