THE ASTRONOMICAL TOURIST ARIZONA OBSERVATORY TREATS OVERNIGHT GUESTS TO A PEEK THROUGH ITS TELESCOPES.

Byline: Eric Noland Travel Editor

BENSON, Ariz. - A motor hummed as the dome of the observatory swung around. Daniel Manrique punched a code for the Andromeda galaxy into a computer keyboard, and the aim of the 12-inch Meade LX 200 telescope adjusted accordingly.

It was soon thereafter that the various concerns of this world - 401(k) depreciation, that recent gravel sound in the car's transmission, the periodic pangs of sciatica - went flying out the open slot of the observatory dome, disappearing into the inky sky of a southeastern Arizona night. They'd been suddenly reduced to insignificance.

``The Andromeda galaxy is 2.2 million light-years away,'' said Manrique as I peered through the telescope's eyepiece at a fuzzy, Q-Tip-like blur. ``That light you're seeing right now started coming toward you before man was on this Earth. It's been traveling all that time, at 186,000 miles per second.

``You cannot imagine that distance. There is nothing in our experience that comes anywhere near that.''

But it sure is fun to try; to weigh it, to ponder it, to shrink a little at the realization that we're just specks on a blip in the vast firmament.

That's probably why the Skywatcher's Inn has been such a hit with novice stargazers since opening seven years ago outside Benson, about 45 miles southeast of Tucson.

The inn is part of the private Vega-Bray Observatory. Vega, by the way, has nothing to do with the bright star of the Lyra constellation. Rather, it is Dr. Ed Vega, a retired Tucson pathologist who several years ago teamed with a builder of telescopes, the late Max Bray, to indulge a mutual hobby.

Vega acquired a piece of property in a corner of the Southwest renowned for skies that are both clear and dark. On a little hill that afforded an unimpeded, 360-degree vantage point, he built a small observatory, equipping it with a roll-off roof, an observatory dome (another was added later) and several telescopes.

Curious amateur astronomers began finding their way to the facility, and since the best viewing of the heavens is done deep in the night, the issue of sleeping accommodations kept coming up. A five-room bed-and-breakfast inn was opened in 1995, but as word spread, a peculiar thing happened.

``Originally,'' said Vega, ``I was thinking we were going to get the advanced amateur. But what's happened, the majority coming are novices. People are coming with families, kids. They just want to get started, to learn how to use telescopes and maybe go home and buy one. That's been very satisfying to me.''

The Skywatcher's Inn rooms are priced around $100, with breakfast included. A half-dozen astronomy options are available, some of them targeted at expert amateur astronomers and even professionals. The program aimed at curious neophytes costs $95 for a group of up to five people. It involves a session of four to five hours with a guide, using scopes with apertures ranging from 6 to 14.5 inches.

The guides are just astronomy buffs who have telescopes at home, but if you're a serious subject who desires more learned guidance, the inn can arrange a session with an astronomy professor from the nearby University of Arizona. Beginners, however, might appreciate the amateur touch - which usually includes a lot of layman's terms, patience and enthusiasm.

That was my experience on a visit early this year.

Guests who sign up for late-night sessions during the fall and winter months are warned in advance to bring cold-weather togs (including ski gloves and wool stocking caps), but even with such protection, a 30-degree night can have a debilitating cumulative effect.

I wasn't scheduled for a session on my first night at the inn, but curiosity prompted me to poke my head into the main observing room when I returned from dinner in Benson around 8 o'clock. An elderly man and a middle-age woman had already succumbed to the raw chill after only an hour of viewing, and their guides were preparing to close the 540 square feet of roll-top roof.

One of the astronomers, Mark Daniels, looked up hopefully and said, ``I can show you some things if you want.''

And he certainly did. We stayed in there until after 11. (Daniels had already been paid, and I, having seen a freight train rumble past the Horseshoe Cafe on Fourth Street, had already exhausted the entertainment options in Benson.)

Like an astronomical tourist, I was guided across the sky: the Orion nebula, that cloudy, star-forming region in the middle of the sword of the constellation; the double cluster in Perseus; Saturn; the furry glow around the aptly named Eskimo in the Gemini constellation; the open cluster of the Pleiades.

Occasionally, Daniels would rummage around in the dark for a higher- power eyepiece to give us a closer look at this or that heavenly body.

``Leo's coming up in the east,'' he said at one point. ``There's a little ribbon of three galaxies in it that's pretty neat. Let's take a look.'' I protested that I might be imposing on him, but he laughed and said, ``If I weren't doing this, I'd be at home observing anyway.''

Other highlights of the session included a long look at Aldebaran, the bright-red star that serves as the bull's-eye in the Taurus constellation, as well as the four Galilean moons of Jupiter lined up in a neat row.

At some point in the evening, the cold will likely wear down tourist and guide alike, even through layers of wool and Gore-Tex. Around 10, we ducked into one of the inn's common rooms to regain some warmth. Each night the staff sets out pots of coffee - regular and decaf - and herb tea, plus a platter of bakery items and candy to fortify the stargazers.

The Skywatcher's Inn is geared to its clientele in other ways, too. Because so many guests stay up late for the best viewing, breakfast is served until 10 a.m. And although dinner is not available here, there is a full kitchen for use by the guests, many of whom prepare an early supper or snacks so as to get to the telescopes as soon as the sky begins to darken.

Books and videos on astronomy are available for perusal, so you can bone up on the subject - and maybe even specify something you'd like to see during your session. I found the astronomers all too eager to scan the heavens for special requests.

The design motifs of some of the inn's rooms have nothing whatsoever to do with an observatory - a garish Egyptian bedroom, for example, a living room with wing chairs and black-lacquer Asian screens, a formal dining room with a mirror-backed chandelier, etc.

But I was thrilled to be assigned the Galaxy bedroom. It featured a wall with backlit images of various stars, planets and nebulas shot on the observatory's 20-inch Maksutov scope. The white, domed ceiling can be set up as a planetarium at night, with the stars and planets projected as dots of light. The interior lighting of a coffee table produces the image of a black hole. And an antique telescope with a wooden tripod and leather stabilizing straps stands in a corner. Kids clamor for this room, I was told.

On the second night, Manrique and I sat on the inn's patio at twilight and watched the lights of Benson come up.

That bright glow has become a subject of some anxiety at the observatory. The town, convenient to Kartchner Caverns State Park and a newly popular roost for snowbirds and retirees, has boomed in recent years. Vega has campaigned tirelessly for dark-sky municipal ordinances, but it has been an uphill battle.

But when Manrique and I eventually descended into the small South Observatory, the creeping light pollution did not detract at all from our viewing. And any annoyance over suburban sprawl soon dissolved in my guide's avalanche of zeros and commas and decimal points.

We looked at the Crab Nebula, the galactic litter left behind by a supernova in 1054. Chinese and Japanese astronomers of the day noted it, and petroglyphs left behind by native people in the Southwest indicate that they observed its splash of light, too.

We looked at Saturn repeatedly in order to note its changes over the course of the night.

``When Galileo saw Saturn, he described the rings as ears,'' Manrique said, referring to the work of the Italian astronomer in the early 1600s. ``When the rings are flat, from our perspective, they basically disappear. Galileo saw these ears on the planet, then they disappeared, then they reappeared. You know, the poor guy died not knowing what he had discovered.

``His telescope was not much better than some of the binoculars we have nowadays. He would have killed for one of these.''

And with this one, a tourist just a few steps from his B&B room, warmed by a cup of mint tea, could see the shadow that Saturn was casting on its rings.

IF YOU GO

GETTING THERE: The Skywatcher's Inn at Vega-Bray Observatory is just east of Benson, Ariz., about 45 miles from Tucson via Interstate 10. The facility is in a remote area, at the end of a dirt road and protected by a locked gate; the inn can provide specific driving directions.

STARGAZING: A basic astronomy session, lasting from four to five hours, costs $95 for up to five people. Advanced observing, including use of the 20-inch Maksutov telescope, is $110.

LODGING: The inn has five rooms, ranging from $85 to $175 nightly, breakfast included. All rooms have private bath.

DINING: Benson, an interstate town, has a lot of nondescript coffee shops and fast-food eateries, but the Horseshoe Cafe is a fun, friendly place that has been run by the same family since 1936. The Western murals on the walls recall a bygone era, as does the food: hearty comfort fare served in generous portions. It's at 154 E. Fourth St.; [phone].

INFORMATION: For information and reservations, call the Skywatcher's Inn's Tucson office: [phone]. The number of the inn itself is [phone]. Web: www.communiverse.com/skywatcher.

CAPTION(S):

6 photos, box, map

Photo:

(1 -- color) Arizona is renowned for its dark skies, ideal for stargazing. Here, the Earth's rotation on a time-exposure photograph causes stars to appear as artful streaks.

Peter Schwepker/Arizona Republic

(2 -- 3 -- color) Astronomy guide Daniel Manrique, above, trains a telescope on a deep-sky object at the Skywatcher's Inn, where the Galaxy room, above left, plays up the outer space theme.

(4 -- color) A patio at the Skywatcher's Inn features powerful binoculars and a model of the solar system.

(5) The remote location of Benson, Ariz.'s Skywatcher's Inn offers friendly - meaning dark - skies that enhance the view of celestial objects through the facility's many telescopes.

(6) The roof of the inn's Vega-Bray Observatory rolls back, allowing several guests to scan the heavens at the same time.

Eric Noland/Travel Editor

Box:

IF YOU GO (see text)

Map:

Benson, Arizona

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