This South Bay Observatory Has Been Watching the Stars for Over a Century

Just an hour east of San José, up a steep road with bursting wildflowers and crooked oak trees winding through the Diablo Range, sits one of California’s most remarkable scientific outposts. Perched 4,200 feet up Mount Hamilton, the Lick Observatory has been scanning the cosmos for nearly 150 years.

Researchers working at Lick Observatory — a major site in the University of California Observatories’ multi-campus research unit — discovered Jupiter’s moon Amalthea in 1892, contributed to dark matter research with the Shane telescope, and have made other pivotal contributions to astronomy research.

Edwin Hubble used the site’s instruments to study galaxies, and the clear skies around the observatory helped early astronomers like Sherburne Wellesley Burnham identify dozens of double stars.

Today, about 30 observatory staff live at the top of the mountain nearby, so their supportive hands are available to respond to any issues with the telescopes while the astronomers are conducting research even in the sparkling twilight hours.

Dr. Paul Lynam, one of the observatory’s resident astronomers, maintains telescope operations, troubleshoots technical issues around the clock, conducts research and participates in public outreach. He’s lived at the observatory for over 14 years now. “The story of how this observatory came to be is very compelling. And the more you read about it, the more it draws you in,” Lynam said.

The man behind (and under) the telescope

James Lick, a wealthy and eccentric 19th-century real estate mogul who gained his fortune during the Gold Rush, originally planned to build a giant pyramid in his honor on a block that he owned in San Francisco.

Persuaded by scientists like George Madeira around 1870, Lick instead dedicated his fortune — $700,000, which would be equivalent to billions today — to build what was at the time the world’s most “powerful telescope, superior to and more powerful than any telescope ever yet made,” according to a trust document.

An observatory that would also become his mausoleum.

When Lick died in 1876, years before his observatory was completed, he left specific instructions: He wanted his body to be eventually buried beneath the telescope he helped build — refusing to even be cremated, insisting he would “rot like a gentleman.”

“He was buried in the Masonic Cemetery in San Francisco for 11 years while the observatory was being constructed,” Lynam said.

In 1887, eleven years after his death, Lick’s body was exhumed and transported from San Francisco up the steep road to Mount Hamilton by wagon. Today, his tomb lies directly beneath a large telescope.

On special occasions, staff and visitors still leave flowers at the site.

“James Lick would be very happy with how we spent his legacy,” Lynam said. “Almost 150 years later, his name still stands here — and this institution is still going. He helped change the world of astronomy.”

A place built for stars

Lick Observatory was completed in 1888 and quickly established itself as a leader in astronomical research. At its heart was the 36-inch Great Lick Refractor, which was once the world’s largest refracting telescope — a telescope that uses lenses to make faraway things look closer and clearer — which now supports public education and outreach.

The Shane 120-inch reflecting telescope, which was constructed between 1946 and 1965, was the second-largest reflector in the world for many years. It played a key role in the development of adaptive optics and was the first telescope to utilize a laser guide-star system for regular astronomical observations.

The Nickel Telescope, constructed from spare sewer pipes in the 1970s, is used by UC students today to study supernovae and measure cosmic distances. Its dome, the oldest on the mountain, was built in the 1880s and originally housed the 12-inch Clark refractor, which survived the 1906 earthquake.

The observatory also features cutting-edge instruments like the Automated Planet Finder, a robotic telescope that scans nearby stars nightly in search of planets that might support life.

Today, students and aspiring astronomers continue to do research at the facility.

Modern science at the observatory

UC Riverside Ph.D. student Archana Aravindan is among the many researchers utilizing the Shane telescope to observe the night sky. More specifically, she’s looking for black holes that are actively feeding on their surrounding matter, what’s known as “active black holes,” that exist in dwarf galaxies.

Dwarf galaxies are typically home to just a few billion stars, compared to their larger counterparts, which can contain hundreds of billions of stars.

While active black holes are known to drive powerful outflows and winds in larger galaxies, the research is still in its infancy for smaller galaxies in the universe, Aravindan explained.

“We’re trying to see if even in these smallest galaxies, can the black hole actually have any considerable effect?” Aravindan said. “If it does, it will have a lot of implications on how we understand galaxy evolution,” which will help researchers understand how black holes operate in larger galaxies, like our Milky Way, as well.

Telescope technician Matthew Brooks maintains the observatory’s telescopes. This includes troubleshooting and repairing the equipment, which requires technical skills in complex electronic instrumentation.

He helps set up the telescope that Aravindan is using for her research. “I point this thing at science targets,” Brooks said. “They take the data and figure out the universe.”

Before Lick, Brooks was on an aircraft carrier, fixing broken helicopters for the Marines. He’s been at the observatory for nearly a decade now, living on the mountaintop with his wife.

“The first time I saw Jupiter through a telescope was on a Navy ship, and I could see the dots moving throughout the night,” Brooks said. “The next time I saw it was through this [Shane] telescope with a 120-inch aperture, and I could see color and storms, I could tell that the moons were spheres, and it blew my mind.”

Snakes and wildfire

While living on the summit of Mount Hamilton has its perks, living in an isolated location, with winding mountain roads and limited amenities, can be challenging.

Recently, a staff member at the observatory discovered two rattlesnakes near the observatory’s main building, which had to be relocated. “There are people who are known to be the rattlesnake grabbers [living on the mountain] and some people I know are like: ‘I’m not going to touch it,’ right?” Lynam said.

Extreme weather and wildfires are another big challenge.

In 2020, the SCU Lightning Complex Fire raced through the Diablo Range, surrounding Lick Observatory and threatening to destroy it. While Lynam and most of his colleagues evacuated smoothly, those who were living on the mountain, “were so dispersed at such short notice,” Lynam said, adding that one of his colleagues had to essentially camp out on someone’s driveway for six weeks.

Several structures were destroyed and others damaged. Miraculously, the fire did not destroy the telescopes and domes. “It [the fire] was almost like a crucible that drew a lot of the staff together in those circumstances. But the memories, positive and negative, will never leave the people who experienced it.”

Dealing with light pollution

Lick Observatory continues to conduct cutting-edge research, but light pollution from nearby cities poses a growing threat. In 2018, San José lifted a decades-long ban on LED billboards.  “These produce a lot of blue light, which scatters more in the atmosphere and creates more skyglow,” Lynam said about LEDs.

The effect of light pollution? Dimmer stars. Fainter galaxies. And more difficulty in capturing clean data.

Local ordinances have aimed to control some of the worst offenders, such as upward-facing signage and digital billboards, but enforcement is inconsistent. Lynam said community engagement and policy action are crucial.

“Every additional light fixture adds to this increasingly bright background,” he said.

Eyes on the heavens for more than a century

Throughout the years, Lick Observatory has been threatened by wildfires, earthquakes and funding cuts, like in 2013, although they were reversed a year later. The telescopes shifted from glass-lensed refractors to powerful mirror-based lenses. And through it all, scientists have kept their eyes on the heavens.

On a clear day, visitors can see across the Central Valley to the Sierra Nevada — even Yosemite’s El Capitan is visible from the main building’s viewing scopes. At night, if the light pollution hasn’t crept too far, the sky still opens up wide.

In an era of space telescopes and AI-assisted astronomy, Lick remains a place where real people point real instruments at distant galaxies — and still find themselves surprised by what they discover.

“There’s a really kind of uncontrollable reaction when people look through a telescope and they see Saturn or the moon or something like that,” Lynam said. “And it just blows people away.”

The Lick Observatory is open to the public daily from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. Check their website for free weekend tours and walking tours. Or attend a Bay Curious Walking Tour at the Lick Observatory on June 22.