Science
The L.A. wildfires left neighborhoods choking in ash and toxic air. Residents demand answers
Nearly two weeks after the Eaton fire forced Claire Robinson to flee her Altadena home, she returned, donning a white hazmat suit, a respirator and goggles.
The brick chimneys were among the few recognizable features of the quaint three-bedroom 1940 house neighboring Farnsworth Park. Nearly everything else was reduced to ashes.
The scorching heat melted the glass awards her daughter had received for her theater performances, leaving behind deformed globs of crystal. Where her washer and dryer once stood, Robinson found only a blackened metal frame. The flames even managed to consume her cast-iron bathtub.
“The screws were the only thing that didn’t vaporize,” Robinson said after she scoured through the debris. “Everything else is in the air.
“How do we live in this highly toxic environment and make sure that people aren’t being sent back to their homes prematurely?” she said. “Families are just being told, ‘You’re clear to go in.’ They’re calling us and saying, ‘Is it safe?’ I’m like, ‘I don’t know.’”
Claire Robinson wears a protective suit while inspecting the ruins of her home, which was destroyed in the Eaton fire in Altadena.
(Ryan Ihly)
Tens of thousands of wildfire survivors, including Robinson, have returned to ash-cloaked neighborhoods, even as serious questions about what could be lurking in the debris remain unanswered.
Environmental regulators and public health officials have warned survivors that fire-damaged neighborhoods are probably brimming with toxic chemicals and harmful substances, such as brain-damaging lead and lung-scarring asbestos fibers. Air monitors have measured elevated levels of heavy metals miles downwind of the wildfires.
However, despite the dire warnings from environmental and health officials, fire officials and law enforcement have decided to reopen large swaths of the evacuation zones before disaster personnel could sweep residential communities for some of the most dangerous materials — such as firearm ammunition, propane tanks, pesticides, paint thinner and car batteries.
The EPA’s hazardous waste cleanup was initially projected to last three months. Earlier this week, President Trump signed a federal directive to shorten the cleanup time to 30 days, prompting EPA officials to increase the number of personnel and teams assigned to the hazmat response, and accelerate the process.
Meanwhile, the Army Corps of Engineers’ debris removal was expected to take 18 months. After Trump’s recent visit to L.A., the Army Corps now says it can be done in a year.
“Once a crew shows up to a property, depending on the complexity of that site, it can take two to ten days to clear the debris from that site,” said Col. Eric Swenson of the Corps. “It just really depends on how fast we get those rights of entry.”
As the monumental work of cleaning up the burned zones begins, Robinson and others say they would like to have clearer guidance and support from government agencies to keep people safe from toxic materials.
I think it’s unbelievable that people are being told just to go ahead and go back in.
— Claire Robinson, Altadena resident
Robinson said she thinks it’s alarming that many people have been returning to their destroyed homes without wearing protective gear, and have not been adequately warned about the risks as they begin to clean up their contaminated properties.
“We know that it’s all combusted, and it’s all in the air — metals, plastics. I think it’s unbelievable that people are being told just to go ahead and go back in,” Robinson said. “There’s a lack of coordinated, comprehensive expert response.”
This week, officials from the federal Environmental Protection Agency supervised specialized crews as they began collecting these substances, the first step in what is expected to be a yearlong, multibillion-dollar cleanup and recovery.
As of Wednesday morning, the EPA-led personnel had conducted preliminary surveys of about 2,500 of an estimated 14,500 fire-damaged properties. These crews have been collecting and removing hazardous waste only since Monday. After two days, they had cleared a total of three homes — marking the properties with laminated placards fixed on wooden posts.
A sign indicates EPA contractors have cleared out hazardous materials at a property in Altadena.
(Christina House / Los Angeles Times)
“As places were being [reopened], we had to take a different strategy,” said Harry Allen, an on-scene coordinator for the EPA. “Most fires, we haven’t had [people returning] this early. Because we’re in L.A., it’s really important that people are able to return. … So in this case, as Cal Fire lifted evacuation zones, we said, ‘Let’s get in there, let’s do recon as quickly as we can in advance of repopulation.’”
In California, where electric vehicles and plug-in hybrids make up more than one-quarter of car sales, the U.S. EPA has had to exercise extreme caution around an estimated 1,000 fire-damaged, lithium-ion car batteries — perhaps the most ever damaged by a wildfire. These batteries — also used in e-bikes, scooters and small electronics — have been known to ignite, explode or release toxic gases when exposed to extreme heat or fire.
It’s probably going to be the biggest lithium-ion battery removal activity that’s taken place in this country, if not the world.
— Steve Canalog, deputy incident commander for EPA Region 9
“It’s probably going to be the biggest lithium-ion battery removal activity that’s taken place in this country, if not the world,” said Steve Canalog, deputy incident commander for EPA Region 9, who has overseen cleanups of wildfires, floods, earthquakes and chemical spills.
“Just the high heat can damage the integrity of these battery systems, and they become very unstable and have the risk of spontaneously catching on fire and exploding,” Canalog said. “We have to treat them as unexploded ordnance.”
Because of the risk, EPA personnel transport each battery individually to processing areas. The batteries are often soaked in a saltwater bath to drain the remaining power, and are eventually shredded and taken to recycling facilities.
Hazmat crews typically hear popping and hissing sounds from damaged lithium-ion batteries. In neighborhoods where homes are only a few dozen feet apart, the EPA is telling residents that they should maintain a football-field-length distance from such batteries to avoid injury.
“At the end of the day, you can’t put out a lithium-ion battery fire. It burns so hot and energetically, and you can’t put it out with water or sand or fire blankets. The firefighting strategy is just to let it burn,” Canalog said.
On Wednesday morning, EPA-contracted crews fanned out across a fully razed block in Altadena.
Personnel wore white hazmat suits, blue latex gloves, black sunglasses and respirators as they navigated around a burned-out panel van and blackened metal bed frame. The workers sifted through the ash and debris left in the footprint of a house on Pine Street with shovels and hand tools until they discovered hazardous waste.
An EPA contractor looks for hazardous materials at a home in Altadena.
(Christina House / Los Angeles Times)
One worker carefully held the charred remnants of an iPhone between his index finger and thumb, gently placing it into a black trash bag held by a colleague. Soon after, another approached with his hands full.
“These are all batteries,” he said as he dropped about 20 scorched cylinders into a 5-gallon bucket one by one.
Earlier in the week, another crew extracted a lithium-ion battery from the husk of a Tesla sedan next door. They placed fire-damaged compressed-gas tanks in a row on the front lawn and marked each canister with a white “X,” an indication the fuel had already been burnt.
The EPA has been gathering EV batteries and other hazardous materials found on wrecked properties and moving them to two processing areas: a site near Topanga Beach, where the Santa Monica Mountains meet the Pacific Ocean, for Palisades fire debris; and a site in Lario Park near the foothills of the San Gabriel Mountains in unincorporated Irwindale for Altadena waste. There, EPA crews sort the materials before they’re transported to landfills — exactly where is still unknown.
The decision to stockpile hazardous waste in Lario Park sparked swift backlash from residents and public officials. Four nearby cities — Duarte, Azusa, Irwindale and Baldwin Park — have lodged official complaints arguing that transporting hazardous substances 15 miles outside the Eaton fire and into a popular recreation area poses a risk to thousands more.
“The wildfires that have ravaged Los Angeles County must be cleaned up, but I cannot understand how trucking hazardous waste through so many vulnerable communities, and placing near homes and schools, is the best possible option,” said Michael Cao, mayor of Arcadia, another city near the site.
The EPA has not responded to the complaints, but agency officials said its crews have installed liners to prevent toxic chemicals from leaching into soil. They will also conduct soil testing after their work has concluded.
The EPA’s hazardous waste removal alone is expected to take several months. Once that work is completed, the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers will step up for the second phase: the removal of ash and debris from properties whose owners have signed up for free cleanup, which is expected to take up to 18 months. Property owners can also opt to hire specialized private contractors if they choose to pay the cost themselves.
Although the smoke and ash from any wildfire are considered harmful, urban wildfires are especially dangerous. The smoke and ash from structures and cars can contain more than a hundred toxic chemicals and poisonous gases, according to state officials. Perhaps the most notable is lead, a heavy metal — which has no safe level of exposure for anyone, and which can permanently stunt the development of children when inhaled or ingested.
During the 2018 Camp fire in Paradise, elevated levels of airborne lead lingered for longer than a day. The metal-infused pollution traveled more than 150 miles and was measured as far away as San Jose and Modesto.
On Jan. 7, as the L.A. County wildfires broke out, air samples measured “highly elevated levels” of lead and arsenic over a dozen miles downwind of the Eaton fire, according to the South Coast Air Quality Management District. The highest concentration was recorded in Vernon, about 13 miles southwest.
Wearing protective gear, Eaton fire victim Ian Crick and his friend Matt Listiak search for keepsakes and valuables at his burned-out home in Altadena.
(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)
Separately, a Los Angeles-based air quality monitor supported by federal funding showed that hourly measurements of airborne lead spiked on Jan. 8 and 9, when smoke from the Eaton fire cast a pall from Altadena to San Pedro.
As the Eaton fire approached the home of Felipe Carrillo, he urged his wife and two children to evacuate while he stayed behind to protect the home with a garden hose fitted with a high-pressure nozzle. For hours, Carrillo said, he tried to defend their home by preemptively spraying water onto the roof and later extinguishing small fires sparked by the onslaught of wind-driven embers.
By the next day, his was one of the few homes left standing on the block. It wasn’t until a week later that it dawned on Carrillo that he should also be worried about the smoke and toxic chemicals he was exposed to in the overnight firefight — which he waged without any protective gear.
“In that moment, it was fight or die,” Carrillo said.
After things calmed down, he went to see a doctor, who monitored his breathing for any signs of fluid buildup.
“They told me, you know, unfortunately, there’s no way of knowing any effects that may linger from the fact that you fought a fire without a mask or anything,” Carrillo said.
Ahead of the recent rainfall, Carrillo returned to the house to put sandbags around the perimeter of his property to keep ash from drifting onto the property. He’s also temporarily moved his family out of Altadena out of worry that his 14-year-old son and 10-year-old daughter could inhale the same toxic chemicals that he may have already been exposed to. In addition to the recent strong winds that have whipped up dust, Carrillo fears the ensuing cleanup will also kick up contaminants.
Army Corps of Engineers officials said they would spray water and mist on wildfire ash and debris to reduce the risk of airborne contaminants during their cleanup, but Carillo remains concerned.
“What about these dust storms that they’re gonna cause?” Carrillo said. “Let’s say my kids are in the backyard playing football and this big bulldozer kicks up a lot of dust and my kids inhale it?”
Some of the most concerning toxic contamination could be from older buildings. Lead-based paint and asbestos-containing construction materials were commonly used in homes until they were banned in the late 1970s. About 86% of the buildings near the Eaton fire, and 74% near the Palisades fire, were built before 1980, according to Cal Fire.
For Jane Williams, executive director of the nonprofit California Communities Against Toxics, the copious amounts of ash and rubble hearken back to the aftermath of the Sept. 11 attacks on the World Trade Center. In the months that followed, first responders and residents were exposed to a hazardous mix of asbestos, silica dust, heavy metals and other dangerous substances.
As the years passed, many of those affected by the devastation at Ground Zero were diagnosed with long-term health issues such as asthma, diminished lung function and other respiratory problems.
Over the course of January 2025, Williams watched in dread as social media videos and news coverage emerged showing Southern California residents whose homes had been destroyed sifting through the rubble unmasked.
This is the disaster after the disaster.
— Jane Williams, executive director of California Communities Against Toxics
“It’s exactly what happened with the Twin Towers,” Williams said. “This is the disaster after the disaster. Tens of thousands of people will go back to their properties, and most of them will not wear masks.”
At this point, little is known about the contaminants lingering in the wildfire ash in Altadena and Pacific Palisades. The August 2023 fire in Maui similarly incinerated residential communities composed largely of older housing. After that wildfire was quelled, experts found that ash contained a myriad of heavy metals, including lead, arsenic, copper and cobalt.
The L.A. fires have also led to concerns about water contamination. Water districts in Altadena and the Pacific Palisades/Malibu area have issued “do not drink” advisories for some areas. Suppliers that manage these water systems are assessing impacts of the fires, making repairs and testing for contamination.
According to the State Water Resources Control Board, these advisories “were issued as a precautionary measure until the condition of the system could be determined.” That said, the board’s website also notes that while building materials can contain chemicals that may contaminate water runoff from burned areas, this generally does not affect drinking water supplies, which are protected from exposure as long as infrastructure wasn’t directly damaged.
Completing the extensive cleanup efforts in the burned areas of L.A. will probably take years. In the meantime, residents — not just in the neighborhoods that burned but those nearby too — wonder how to protect themselves.
For example, Garo Manjikian evacuated from his Pasadena home with his wife and three children as the Eaton fire exploded. The family returned to find their house and garden covered in a layer of ash.
They spent days cleaning the house; washing their clothes, bedding and rugs; and throwing away pillows that had absorbed smoke. Manjikian said he hosed ash off the roof and out of the gutters, and power-washed the outside walls. Inside, he used the power washer and a shop vac to clean out ash that had collected in the windowsills.
I decided to just do everything I can myself to remove the ash.
— Garo Manjikian, Pasadena resident
“I decided to just do everything I can myself to remove the ash,” said Manjikian, who rented three industrial air purifiers and ran them in the house for about a week. “I still don’t for sure know how toxic it still might be in the house, but at this point, there is no more smell of smoke.”
But fine ash continued to float down, coating the house and the yard. Manjikian and his wife have been urging their three sons, the oldest aged 8 and the twins aged 5, not to play outside. And when they do have to leave the house, the boys are getting used to wearing masks again, like they did during the pandemic.
An EPA contractor looks for hazardous materials at a home in Altadena.
(Christina House / Los Angeles Times)
Manjikian has heard that some homeowners, schools and businesses have been paying for lab tests out of their own pockets to determine what types of contaminants need to be cleaned up. He said it would be helpful if the results of those tests could be made available for him and others who might have been exposed to hazardous waste.
“If they do the testing and find out there’s toxic material there, that would be good information for the neighboring houses to have, whether it came back positive on the toxic particles or negative,” Manjikian said.
For Robinson, the Altadena resident whose home was destroyed in the Eaton fire, the disaster has brought multiple layers of grief and unanswered questions.
Robinson is the founder of Amigos de los Rios, a nonprofit group, and already knew the importance of wearing protective gear to guard against hazardous materials during river cleanups and park construction projects.
When she returned to inspect the ruins of her home, as well as the group’s nearby office, which also was destroyed, she and her husband spent about $250 at a hardware store buying two disposable coverall suits, nitrile gloves and leather gloves to go over them, plus multiple packages of goggles, booties and N100 masks.
Robinson said she thinks L.A. County officials should be doing much more to help residents understand the risks and to protect themselves. Residents shouldn’t be left in the dark, she said, about how much danger they might encounter as they sift through the ashes.
“I would expect there to be a much more concerted, organized, comprehensive effort to share information,” she said, and also to provide protective gear for those who can’t afford to buy it.
Robinson is also concerned about the health effects. Recently, she has had difficulty breathing unlike anything she remembers. At times, she feels tightness in her chest, and experiences a fit of coughing and wheezing.
She said it’s crucial that as others return to inspect their devastated neighborhood, they take measures to protect themselves.
“I’m less concerned about looting,” Robinson said, “than I am about people being exposed to these things and facing short, medium and long-term health impacts.”
Times staff writer David Zahniser contributed to this report.
Science
Hantavirus strikes a cruise ship, Californians at risk: Is this the start of something much worse?
The voyage was marketed for explorers eager to venture to “the edges of the map,” from Antarctica to some of the most remote islands in the world.
It would be a tantalizing trip for tourists with an appetite for adventure — less about trips to the spa and lounging by the pool than a chance to see landscapes few humans have ever laid eyes upon.
But this call of the wild was ultimately among the factors that turned the MV Hondius into the epicenter of the first-ever deadly outbreak of hantavirus aboard a modern cruise ship. Eleven cases have been linked to the outbreak so far. Three people are dead, and two others are in intensive care.
The incident — with a few uncomfortable echoes of the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic — has sparked concerns and questions. Chief among them: Was this a freak occurrence, or a sign of things to come?
“I think it’s both,” said Dr. Peter Chin-Hong, an infectious diseases expert at UC San Francisco.
Hantavirus had previously been an obscure illness. Typically spread through exposure to infected rodents’ urine and droppings, it’s notoriously difficult to diagnose and has no specified antiviral treatment. It was definitively identified relatively recently, in a field rodent near the Hantan River in South Korea in 1978, and finally explained the mystery cause of the “Korean hemorrhagic fever” that infected thousands of United Nations troops during the Korean War.
Though rare, the disease has drawn attention in the U.S. over the decades due to its incredibly high case-fatality rate: up to 50% among the strains that circulate in the Americas.
Western Hemisphere hantavirus strains are so deadly because they can attack the lungs and make them leak. The strains that circulate in Asia and Europe — where hantavirus is more common, and generally less deadly — attack the kidneys.
Those who are severely ill can only be treated by putting them on life-support machines that directly add oxygen to their blood.
Despite its severity, the overall impact of the disease in the Americas has remained muted for two main reasons. First, most strains of hantavirus do not spread directly from person to person. And second, many people will not come into contact with rodents carrying the virus during their daily lives.
Excursions that attract people like those aboard the MV Hondius, however, blur the second line. Launched in 2019, the ice-strengthened vessel offered passengers opportunities for “maximum contact with the nature and wildlife you traveled so far to see,” according to its operator, Oceanwide Expeditions.
“The broader pattern is definitely not random,” Chin-Hong said, “which is more expedition tourism visiting remote areas.” Climate change, he added, is also increasing the range of certain infectious diseases.
“The hantavirus in the cruise ship is unprecedented, and reflects kind of like a perfect storm of the expedition cruise through a remote area, environmental exposure potentially during a short excursion, and the hantavirus — this particular Andes virus — being capable of going from person to person,” he said.
The Andes virus, which circulates in Argentina and Chile and is mainly spread among the long-tailed pygmy rice rat, is the only hantavirus strain known to be able to transmit from human to human.
Such inter-person spread occurred previously in a deadly outbreak in Argentina. From November 2018 through February 2019, the Andes virus infected 34 people there, killing 11, according to a study in the New England Journal of Medicine.
There were 149 passengers and staff aboard the MV Hondius when the ship publicly disclosed that three of its passengers had died. Of the 18 U.S. citizens on the ship, one passenger initially tested positive for hantavirus overseas but also got a negative test result; a follow-up test is now being done in the U.S., and results are expected in a day or so, Dr. David Fitter, incident manager for the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention’s hantavirus response, told reporters in a briefing Wednesday.
That patient, who is not ill, is being monitored at a biocontainment unit at the University of Nebraska Medical Center.
Five California residents have been potentially exposed to the virus — four aboard the cruise ship, and the fifth while on a plane with an infected person in South Africa. All five are asymptomatic and appear healthy, the California Department of Public Health said Wednesday.
Most infected people actually don’t seem to spread the Andes virus, Chin-Hong said. But some do end up being “superspreaders,” infecting others at exceptional rates.
That’s what happened in 2018-19. A single person got the Andes virus from a rodent, and the outbreak was spread mainly by three sick people who attended crowded social events, the medical journal study said — including a birthday party and a wake for one of the hantavirus victims.
In the case of the MV Hondius, the first person believed to have contracted the hantavirus was a man from the Netherlands who was possibly exposed to rodents while bird-watching prior to boarding the ship before it left for its transatlantic journey, according to authorities. He had spent the prior three months traveling through Argentina, Chile and Uruguay, the World Health Organization said. The man boarded the ship on April 1, developed symptoms on April 6 and died on board on April 11.
“At present, the thought is that it was an ornithologist who was visiting a dump, where many rare birds congregate, and was exposed to a rodent that was in the garbage dump,” said Dr. Elizabeth Hudson, regional physician chief of infectious diseases for Kaiser Permanente Southern California.
From there, she said, the realities of cruising at sea set the stage.
“Cruise ships are a perfect environment for the spread of infectious diseases, unfortunately,” Hudson said. “You have a population of people who are living together in a relatively small and confined space, with most folks spending a good part of their time indoors eating and socializing. This means that if there’s an infection that can spread easily from person to person, the very nature of the cruise ship allows this to happen more readily.”
It can also be difficult to isolate sick people aboard a cruise ship. The MV Hondius’ doctor fell ill with hantavirus, as did another crew member who was working as a guide. Among the symptoms people reported were gastrointestinal illness, fever, general malaise, pneumonia, fatigue, aches and respiratory symptoms.
Extensive spread of the hantavirus outbreak is not expected, health experts say. Unlike COVID-19, the Andes virus is much harder to transmit from person to person.
In past outbreaks of the Andes virus, taking steps like isolating people who are sick — and asking those who aren’t sick but have been exposed to stay away from others — have brought outbreaks to an end.
It can take up to six weeks from the time a person has been exposed to the virus to the onset of illness. That “takes us to the 21st of June,” WHO Director-General Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus said at a news briefing Tuesday. “WHO’s recommendation is that they should be monitored actively at a specified quarantine facility or at home for 42 days from the last exposure.”
One Californian who was on the MV Hondius, but left the ship before the hantavirus outbreak was discovered, is back home in Santa Clara County and remains healthy. That person is being asked to limit trips outside the home during the 42-day period to see if they become ill, according to Dr. Erica Pan, director of the California Department of Public Health.
Another Californian, from Sacramento County, is also back at home after sitting within a couple of seats of a hantavirus-infected passenger who was briefly on a flight from South Africa to the Netherlands before being asked to deplane due to her illness. The Californian remains healthy, but is also being asked to limit activities with others.
“They’re not to share a bed with someone else. … They shouldn’t attend social events, and they should not visit any crowded venues,” Pan said.
Two other Californians who were on board the MV Hondius are healthy and are being observed at the University of Nebraska Medical Center’s National Quarantine Unit, the only federally funded quarantine unit in the U.S. Thirteen others are also being observed there, while two are at Emory University in Atlanta.
The California Department of Public Health said it didn’t know when the Californians in Nebraska would return home.
California health officials Wednesday said that there was a fifth state resident who was potentially exposed to the hantavirus. That person left the cruise ship, returned briefly to California, then left for additional travel, all before the outbreak was announced.
That person, who remains healthy, is now in the remote Pitcairn Islands in the south Pacific Ocean — halfway between Peru and New Zealand.
Despite concerns surrounding this latest outbreak, the Andes virus is considered a poor candidate to become the next pandemic. One thing that makes COVID spread so easily is that people can infect others even if they’re not personally experiencing symptoms.
With COVID, people could get sick just by breathing in aerosolized viral particles floating around and pushed across an entire room by an air conditioning vent.
With the Andes virus, by contrast, people probably need to be symptomatic to spread illness.
The 2018-19 Andes virus outbreak in Argentina also showed that close contact is needed for transmission, including “being seated very close” to the sick person, Chin-Hong said.
Those at highest risk of getting hantavirus from another human have “some direct exposure to bodily fluids,” Pan said.
The first U.S. case of Andes virus actually occurred in January 2018, in a woman who had stayed in cabins and youth hostels in the Andes region of Argentina and Chile. She did not infect anyone else after her return despite taking two commercial flights in the U.S. when sick and before she was hospitalized in Delaware. She eventually recovered at home.
More morbidly, health experts note, the Andes virus is also too deadly for it to spread rapidly in a pandemic situation.
So why are we seeing this outbreak now?
Hantavirus appears to be expanding its range in Argentina. A report published in December noted that hantavirus’ range in that country was moving southward.
“This redistribution indicates either ecological shifts affecting rodent reservoir populations, increased human encroachment into previously untouched habitats, or improved surveillance detecting cases in areas with lower historical awareness,” said the report, published by the Biothreats Emergence, Analysis and Communications Network, or BEACON, based at Boston University’s Center on Emerging Infectious Diseases.
From mid-June through early November, there were 23 confirmed cases in the country, with nine deaths. No human-to-human transmission was reported during that time period.
Another report suggested changing temperatures and rainfall also affected hantavirus transmission in Argentina.
Another well-documented example of that phenomenon is the rise of dengue viruses in Argentina, which are spread by mosquitoes. Rising temperatures are making the climate more suitable for transmission, one study suggested.
“Climate change has definitely had an impact on Argentina,” Chin-Hong said. “As it gets warmer, you potentially have more rats.”
Science
5 Great Stargazing Trains
Stargazing, it turns out, doesn’t have to be a stationary activity.
On railway lines around the world, from the Arctic Circle to New Zealand, a select set of evening train excursions take riders deep into dark-sky territory — some en route to remote station stops decked out with telescopes, others featuring onboard astronomers.
These five rail journeys (all of which are accessible) range from two- to three-hour desert outings to a hunt for the northern lights. One route even has a planetarium on rails. All promise a renewed appreciation of train travel — and of our pale blue dot’s improbable place in the cosmos.
Nevada
The Great Basin Star Train
Any stargazing train worth its salt requires one thing: a dark sky. The Star Train resoundingly checks that box, traveling through a part of eastern Nevada that is one of the least-populated places in the lower 48.
Run by the Nevada Northern Railway in partnership with nearby Great Basin National Park, the train departs the historic East Ely Depot, in Ely, Nev., early enough in the evening to catch the sunset over the Steptoe Valley, and then cruises through darkening skies to its destination: a remote corner of the desert appropriately called Star Flat, where a stargazing platform outfitted with telescopes awaits. There, riders disembark (equipped with red-light necklaces to help preserve their night vision) and take turns viewing the cosmos, guided by professional astronomers. (Last year’s onboard stargazing guides came from Caltech; in previous seasons, the National Park Service’s Dark Rangers, who specialize in night-sky activities, accompanied trips.)
The Star Train makes its two-and-a-half-hour round-trip journey most Friday evenings between mid-May and mid-September, and tickets ($65 for adults) can sell out almost a year in advance — though members of the Nevada Northern Railway Museum get early access. Alternatively, the railroad’s more frequent Sunset, Stars and Champagne excursions trade telescopes for desert sundowners but feature the same expert stargazers and the same Nevada night sky, which is often dark enough to see the Milky Way with the naked eye.
New Mexico
The Stargazer
While plenty of heritage railroads across the United States offer twilight rides and nighttime excursions, at the moment there’s only one other dedicated, regularly scheduled stargazing train in North America besides the Star Train: the Stargazer, operated by Sky Railway, in Santa Fe, N.M.
Much like its Nevada counterpart, the Stargazer makes a two-and-a-half-hour round trip through dark-sky country, though in this case, the journey really is the destination, because it doesn’t make any stops. More of a rolling night-sky revue, the Stargazer features live music and professional astronomers who share their celestial knowledge and stories as the train rumbles into the vast Galisteo Basin south of Santa Fe. Sky Railway’s colorfully painted trains feature heated, enclosed passenger cars to stave off the evening chill and flatbed cars open to the night sky.
Departing from the Santa Fe Depot downtown, the train normally runs once a month (adult tickets from $139, including a champagne welcome toast). Sky Railway also occasionally schedules excursions for special celestial events.
New Zealand
Matariki Rail Experience
With its alpine landscapes and rugged coastline, New Zealand’s South Island is practically tailor-made for scenic daytime train journeys. But when night falls, the sparsely populated island — home to the Southern Hemisphere’s largest International Dark Sky Reserve — is heaven for stargazers, too.
This year, Great Journeys New Zealand, which operates the country’s tourist-centric long-distance trains, is offering a special nighttime run of the Coastal Pacific, whose route skirts the South Island’s northeastern coast. Timed to Matariki, the Maori new year, which is heralded by the first rising of the Pleiades star cluster, the eight-hour round trip from Christchurch is a cultural and astronomical celebration.
After the first half of a four-course onboard dinner, the train arrives in Kaikoura, in dark-sky country, for a guided stargazing stop with a range of telescopes — and fire pits and a night market. (The rain plan involves a virtual stargazing session at the local museum using virtual reality headsets.) Dinner resumes back on the train as it returns to Christchurch. This is a strictly limited engagement, on the rails for one night only: July 11, for 499 New Zealand dollars, about $295, per person.
In the far northern reaches of Norway, inside the Arctic Circle, you can ride a train that chases another wonder of the night sky: the aurora borealis. Twice a week from October to March, the Northern Lights Train takes its riders into the dark polar night in pursuit of the aurora’s celestial light show.
From the remote town of Narvik, the train travels along the Ofoten Railway, the northernmost passenger rail line in Western Europe. The destination on this three-hour round-trip excursion (1,495 kroner, or about $160) is Katterat, a mountain village accessible only by rail and free of light pollution, making it an ideal place to spot the aurora. At the Katterat station, local guides and a campfire cookout await, as does a lavvu, the traditional tent used by the Sami people of northern Scandinavia, offering a respite from the cold (as well as hot drinks and an open fire for roasting sausages).
And aboard the train, the lights stay off, which means that on a clear night, you might even catch the northern lights on the way there and back.
Leave it to Japan to take the stargazing train to another level.
The High Rail 1375 train — so named because it runs along Japan’s highest-elevation railway line (the high point is 1,375 meters, or roughly 4,500 feet, above sea level) — is one of JR East’s deliberately unhurried Joyful Trains, which the railway company describes as “not only a means of transportation, but also a package of various pleasures.” This astronomy-themed train certainly packs plenty of joy into its two cars, with seat upholstery inspired by constellations, a snack bar, a souvenir shop and a planetarium car with a library of astronomy books and images of the night sky projected onto its domed ceiling.
The train makes two daytime runs along the mountainous Koumi Line, taking a little over two hours to travel between Kobuchizawa (accessible by express train from Tokyo) and Komoro. But the main event is the High Rail Hoshizora (“Starry Sky”) evening trip, which includes an extended stop at Nobeyama Station (the highest in the country) for a guided stargazing session. A one-way ride on High Rail 1375, which runs on weekends and occasional weekdays, requires a seat reservation if you’re traveling on a Japan Rail pass, or a stand-alone ticket plus seat reservation (2,440 yen, or about $15). And remember to preorder a special “Starry Sky” bento box.
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Science
A Physicist Who Thinks in Poetry from the Cosmic Edge
Much of the praise for Chanda Prescod-Weinstein’s debut book in 2021, “The Disordered Cosmos: A Journey Into Dark Matter, Spacetime, and Dreams Deferred,” lauded the way she used personal experiences in physics to discuss the social and political inequities that exist alongside scientific breakthroughs.
“It contains the narrative of dreams deferred,” Dr. Prescod-Weinstein, a physicist at the University of New Hampshire, explained in April at a bookstore in Chicago. But its very existence, she said, also “represented a dream deferred, because that was not the dream of what my first book was going to be.”
Her second book reclaims that dream. Released on April 7, “The Edge of Space-Time: Particles, Poetry, and the Cosmic Dream Boogie” is less pain and more play, a homage to the big questions that made Dr. Prescod-Weinstein want to become a physicist in the first place. She begins the book by asserting that it is humanity’s duty to uncover and share the story of our universe. Her latest offering toward that duty is a journey through physics that is tightly bound to her own cultural roots.
In the midst of a multicity book tour, Dr. Prescod-Weinstein spoke with The New York Times about guiding readers through the cosmos from her own point of view and about some of the art, poetry and literature she drew on to shape that journey. This conversation has been edited for brevity and clarity.
Why include so many references to poetry in a book about physics?
I knew poetry before I knew physics. It was part of my upbringing. I loved A.A. Milne’s “Now We Are Six” and Edward Lear’s “Nonsense Limericks.” Both of my books draw their subtitles from Langston Hughes’s “Montage of a Dream Deferred.”
Adrienne Rich’s poem “The Burning of Paper Instead of Children” became a guiding light for how my work would move in the world. It also opened up for me that I need language. That’s true among physicists. Even an equation is a sentence; even an equation is telling a story.
As physicists, we’re always working in language to connect what we learn with what we know. Poetry is one of the first places that my brain goes to draw those links. Language, as it moves in my brain, is often in Hughes and Rich and Shakespeare. Those are the lines that flicker up for me.
What if we got away from the argument that doing cosmology and particle physics is practical or materially valuable? Then we have to accept that we’re like the poets. What we do is important culturally in the same way poetry is. A piece of this book is me saying there is value in banding with the poets, and fighting for the value of being curious and trying to articulate the world with whatever tools are available to us. Not for the purposes of selling something, but for the purpose of fulfilling our humanity.
Another theme throughout the book is the story of Lewis Carroll’s Alice and her adventures in Wonderland.
Being a science adviser on future installments in The Legendborn Cycle, a fantasy series written by Tracy Deonn, is one reason Alice is in my book. It has allowed me to be open to the playful side that physics, as a Black queer person, can take from you. I wanted the book to be whimsical, because that’s who I was when I first arrived in physics, and that’s who I want to be when I die.
Part of the call of quantum physics is to change what our sense and sensibility are. When you look at the world through this framework — like the idea that particles have spin but don’t really spin — it sounds like nonsense. Except that’s literally how the universe works. Physics is our “through the looking glass.” It’s real.
Your first chapter invites readers to reflect on the metaphors used to describe the universe, like the “fabric” of space-time or electromagnetic “fields.” Why open in this way?
A lot of books about quantum physics start with its history. I wanted as much as possible not to just do that. I had actually planned to start it with the Stern-Gerlach experiment of 1922. But then I read an essay by the poet Natasha Trethewey about abiding metaphors and started to ask myself what the abiding metaphors of my physics training were.
We don’t ever take time in our classes to ask, “What do we mean when we say ‘space’? What do we mean when we say ‘space-time’?” There are these metaphysical questions that I often told myself were for the philosophers. This book was me letting myself think of them as physics.
One metaphor you invoke is the “edge” — not only the edge of the universe and of scientists’ understanding, but also existing at the edge of certain identities.
In “Disordered Cosmos,” I talked a lot about being at the margin and looking toward the center. With “The Edge of Space-Time,” I’m choosing to make the margin the center of the story. Part of that was me fully embracing what makes me the physicist I am. I’m an L.A. Dodgers fan. I love “Alice in Wonderland.” I love “Star Trek.” There’s lots of all of that in the book.
Picking a metaphor is a culturally situated decision. I wrote a line that says black holes are the best laid edges in the universe. I did, at some point, think that only some people were going to get this. But for people who don’t understand the reference to Black hairstyles, the sentence is still legible. And for those who do, it will feel like we just had an in-group moment. Anyone who thinks about laying their edges deserves to have an in-group moment in a physics book. Because we are physics, too.
Black students are often told that if you want to be a physicist, then you will make yourself as close to such-and-such mold as possible. At a young age, we have this understanding that whiteness and science are associated with each other, but we are also witnessing in ourselves that this can’t be entirely correct. There’s this narration of, “Well, sure, you can be Black in physics, but that means you have to acclimate to the ‘in physics’ part, and never that physics has to acclimate to the Black part.”
I use the example of rapper Big K.R.I.T.’s song “My Sub Pt. 3 (Big Bang),” in which someone tries to wire up subwoofers in his car but fries the wires because he doesn’t ground them properly. I don’t know if Big K.R.I.T. would think of this as a science story, but I think we should learn to read it as one. Not to contain it in science, but to say it overlaps there. This can be a rap song. It can be about the cultural significance of subwoofers and the Big Bang as a metaphor for the beat. And it can also be about cosmology and about how everybody who wires up cars or does this kind of work is a scientist, too.
How do you want readers to approach this book?
There is this feeling that you’re supposed to read a book like this and walk away an expert. That’s actually not the point of this book at all. The point is to wander through physics. Even if math terrifies you, you are entitled to spend some time with it.
And so here, I have made you a book with a bunch of tidbits on the oddities of the universe. The universe is stranger and more queer and more wonderful and more full of possibility than whatever limitations you might be experiencing right now. Physics challenges what we are told are social norms. For example, non-trinary neutrinos are fundamental to our standard model of physics.
“Non-trinary,” as in they shift between three different forms.
Non-trinary is natural. It’s such a challenge to the current anti-trans rhetoric that says people can only ever be one thing.
I don’t need my book to be the most important thing that someone reads. But I want it to be a source of hope. If it reminds you that, as my mom says, the universe is bigger than the bad things that are happening to us, then that’s all you need to remember. I’m good with that.
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