So, regular readers will know already that my friend Alamar is visiting Chicago right now from his home in Germany. And yesterday we finally got out to one of Alamar's "must-see" destinations, the Fermi National Accelerator Lab in the far western suburb of Batavia. And I've got quite a story to tell you about it all, including lots of photos and audio, so I guess I better get right to it.

The reason it took us so long to actually get out there, in fact, is because of the circumstances involved - namely, I don't own a car here in Chicago, which meant that we were going to have to take the suburban public-transit system to get there instead, and the suburban public-transit system here in Chicago leaves a little to be desired, needless to say. In fact, according to the map the Regional Transportation Authority (RTA) publishes, the closest it seems we could get to Fermilab by public transit was to the neighboring town of West Chicago; and since the RTA map is so crappy, it was difficult to tell whether we'd then be three miles from Fermilab or eight miles or what. But Alamar was very excited about visiting the place - he's an applied-physics major, after all, which means that Fermilab is a sort of mecca to him - so we bit the bullet and just took off yesterday morning, deciding to just worry about the second half of the trip once we actually got out there. And then during the hour train ride out to West Chicago, we also did a little audio report for my podcast site, just about all kinds of random things - Alamar's visit to the Museum of Science and Industry, mispellings on the German restaurant menus in Lincoln Square and other unimportant topics.

So then we actually got out to the West Chicago Metra station, and it was pretty much what I was expecting - highways going everywhere and more strip malls than you could throw a rock at, just like every other suburb in the history of suburban development.
"Oh, look," Alamar said, pointing to a sign hanging on the side of the train station. "West Chicago is the sister city of Toafkirchen! That's in Germany!"
"Hey," we suddenly heard someone yell behind us. "I'm from Toafkirchen!"
So we spun around, and who should happen to be standing there but yet another German, believe it or not - a beautiful young woman named Anna, in fact, who actually was from Toafkirchen and was visiting West Chicago precisely because of the sister-city connection. So we got to gabbing with her, and telling her about the dilemma we now found ourselves in, as far as completing our trip down to the Fermilab campus.
"Well," she said, "why don't you stick around a few minutes? I'm sure my friend would be happy to give you a ride down there."
Wow! So we did, and she turned out to be exactly correct - her friend Tom, in fact, is this punk musician here in Chicago, attending UIC and usually living in the city like me, but who just happened to be in West Chicago for a few days visiting his family. So we all loaded up in his car and made our way down to Fermilab, gabbing a mile a minute about Anna's travel adventures and Tom's band and Alamar's schooling and the like. Jesus, who would've ever guessed that we'd have such an experience at a far suburban train station, man?

So then eventually we got to the actual campus, but learned along the way that the distance was on the long side rather than the short one - almost seven miles, in fact, between our train station and the Fermilab front gate. And Fermilab is just...wow. I'm not sure where to even begin. Well, I guess I should start with what Fermilab actually does, which of course with my limited knowledge is not going to be a very good explanation...
You probably still remember what we all learned in grade-school science - that all matter in the universe is in actuality made up of these tiny little particles called atoms, which in turn are made up of even smaller particles called protons, neutrons and electrons. Well, it turns out that that's not quite right - that even these particles are made up of even smaller particles, called quarks. And quarks are in fact so small that humans have yet to invent a way to physically prove their existence, which means that you start getting into a whole lot of theoretical talk that goes straight over my head.
Anyway, one of the ways scientists are learning about quarks, and further proving they exist, is by smashing these near-invisible particles against each other, then taking photographs of the collisions and learning about the nature of these quarks in that way. But see, in order to get the collisions to be spectacular enough to register in a photograph, the particles have to be moving at this immensely fast speed - nearly the speed of light, in fact. And so what scientists have been doing over the last 50 years is building larger and larger "particle accelerators" - physical chambers that actually will speed up particles so that they're moving near the speed of light. And the particle accelerator at Fermilab is in fact the world's largest, just these giant concrete loops under the ground, miles and miles in circumference, all housed on this campus that is roughly six miles by four miles in size.

But see, the other thing about Fermilab is that it was originally built in the late '60s, with one of those hippie scientist guys you used to see back then in charge of the original construction (Robert Wilson, to be specific), and he was a big proponent of scientific campuses also embracing nature, environmentalism, cultural activities and the like. So Fermilab is not only this giant particle accelerator under the ground, but also above the ground one of the largest and best-kept nature preserves in the entire midwest as well, with a stated goal of preserving the natural look of Illinois as it existed before white people started showing up. I mean, shit, they even have buffalo randomly roaming around on their campus, man! Crazy! So then about half the Fermilab campus is open to the public as well, just so they can enjoy this unrefined nature; and then the lab also sponsors all these musical concerts, plays, films and public lectures on their campus as well, as part of its original mission to contribute to the local arts and culture community.

So our first stop was to the Lederman Science Center, a sorta hands-on facility for teaching children and dopes like me exactly what Fermilab does. And so that was kind of interesting, but unfortunately didn't make too much sense to me - the exhibits are designed in a way so that actual scientists are running them as you watch and participate, and we were there on a day when no scientists were around. Pretty fascinating nonetheless, though.

So then after that we made our way to Wilson Hall, where the administrative offices and visitor's center for Fermilab are located. Why yes, it does look like the Contemporary Resort at Disneyworld, doesn't it? In fact, the entire campus at Fermilab reminded me of some strange scientist utopia - this just massive stretch of land, where you can't even see the outside world when you're inside it, full of all these '70s science-fiction-looking buildings, and the rest given over to unfettered natural growth. As Alamar rightly pointed out yesterday, I have to imagine it being a real kick to be an atomic scientist and to get a chance to work here. (There's even an entire community of guest houses on the east side of the campus, where visiting scientists can stay, with the houses themselves being these wonderful old farmhouses left over from when the government originally bought the land in the first place.)

Technically the visitor's center was closed when we visited; Alamar, though, has been in regular contact with a public liason there named Nancy, and I think she felt a little sorry for us that our trip out there was such a nightmare, so she ended up giving us a little tour anyway, which I thought was really nice of her. Unfortunately the tour itself kind of blows, mostly because of the times we live in - that is, before September 11th visitors were actually taken down into the accelerator tunnels, to see the massive engineering prowess that went into building this damn thing, but now the tour consists of a couple of rooms in Wilson Hall full of photos and other small artifacts. (The photo above, for example, is of a self-contained mini-accelerator, often used in hospitals for medical experiments.) Ah, but there's not much to be done about that, I suppose, although it sure would've been cool to get to go down into the actual tunnels.

I'm finding it difficult to express into words just what an overwhelming thing the Fermilab campus is, when you're actually standing in the middle of it, and how unbelievable it is that everything you see is designed expressly just for smashing together little bits of matter that may or may not exist in the first place. Like here, for example, is a panoramic photo of the Tevatron, the largest of the several accelerators found at Fermilab. And it's hard to tell from my crappy cellphone photos, but this thing is four miles in circumference, just so huge that you can barely believe that you're actually looking at it, even when you're standing there right in front of the thing. The entire campus is like this - just these massive, massive feats of human inginuity, around every single corner of the complex. Even if you're not a scientist, it's this hugely impressive thing to simply witness for yourself.

There really isn't that much more for the general public to see, so after the tour Alamar and I just went strolling through the public grounds for a bit, laughing at and taking photos of all the weird-ass scientist things that keep popping up in the middle of this giant nature preserve. This photo, for example, is of these weird helium pipes that just pop up out of the ground in the weirdest random locations, all over the campus. And there were lots more strange little things like this, too - fire hydrants with radio antennas, manhole covers with radiation warning stickers, etc. Anyway, I ended up snapping nearly 50 photos of the place yesterday, so you'll be able to see it all yourself at my Flickr account later this month.
And then unfortunately that's when our luck finally ran out; we couldn't reach Tom for a possible ride back to the station, and we didn't run into any friendly Fermilab employees who offered one either. And unfortunately I was just in no shape to tackle a seven-mile walk back to our destination - so Alamar and I had to do something we had been trying to avoid, which was to call a taxi and have it take us back to the station. Which was fine, I suppose, but cost us $25 that neither of us could really afford. But hey, better to blow $25 getting back home, I guess, than to not see Fermilab to begin with, because it really was that impressive.
So that's it! A highly entertaining day trip, to be sure, but one I doubt I will ever do again. So that's yet another nice thing about Alamar visiting these days, is that it gives me an excuse to go do all these interesting things that I would never in a million years do on my own.
And speaking of which, even more adventures this weekend - but I'm almost out of space, so it'll have to wait until Monday. Ciao!









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