From the Archives: The Other California- A Wandering Volcano and a Floral Outburst

I don't expect to be able to visit the Southern California "Superbloom", this year, but I have seen it in the past, and thought you might enjoy some geological perspectives on why the poppies do so well in the western Mojave Desert. I found it an interesting story. I also updated the photos to include higher resolution  and added a few bonus shots. This story appeared April 18, 2010 (that's the late Pleistocene in blog years...)

I can still be astounded....

There are lots of things I haven't seen and done in my life, but I can imagine what it is going to be like to see a rhyolitic volcano erupting at close quarters, or to feel a magnitude 8 quake (6.9 is my biggest so far). But sometimes things happen that just leave me breathless, if only from the unexpectedness of it all. That's what happened to me today.

I had always heard about the Antelope Valley California Poppy State Reserve, but had never seen it, especially in the late winter or early spring when the blooms are at their peak. We were taking an alternate route home, generally following the San Andreas fault from Cajon Pass to Grapevine Summit on Interstate 5. The desert was mostly dry and barren for much of the route, but as we passed Palmdale and Lancaster, I looked west and saw something I had never seen before: orange hills. Fluorescent orange hills. As we drew closer, it was clear that the California Poppies were at their golden best.

After expending several hours using vast amounts of digital space on my camera, I started to ponder why the flowers were here, and not elsewhere across the Mojave Desert, at least not in such dominating numbers. I first considered the slightly higher elevation, the local rocks and sediment, soil conditions and drainage, but I started to realize there was another dynamic going on...the flowers are a natural phenomena, but a natural phenomena with a very human influence. About seven miles west of the Poppy preserve there is another state park: Arthur B. Ripley Desert Woodland State Park. The park preserves 580 acres of what turns out to be the native land cover of the Mojave Desert west of Lancaster and Palmdale: juniper woodland and Joshua Trees.

A century ago, this high end of the desert was cleared of Joshua Trees and Juniper, usually by chaining (dragging a huge chain between tractors that knocked down whole forests) or fires in order to put in thousands of acres of alfalfa fields and other crops. Large areas were reserved for sheep and cattle grazing as well. The natural plant cover was long gone. Much later, some of the abandoned fields started to recover, and the showy wildflowers represent some of the pioneer species (I've noticed for years that the best wildflower shows in any forested areas occur after fires: Yellowstone, Yosemite, and many other areas). Without any nearby natural vegetation, there is no way for the native Joshua Trees and other large trees and shrubs to recolonize the valley floor; they don't have any method to spread their seeds widely (Joshua Trees were once spread in giant ground sloth poop...). Despite their incredible beauty, the wildflower displays are a monument to our extensive alteration of the environment that once existed here.

Just the same, the flowers were one of the most intense displays of color I've ever seen. Lest you think that I had discovered some isolated and unknown Eden, well, a look at the photo below should dissuade you from thinking that these poppies are a well-kept secret. It was actually impossible to get to the park visitor center due to the traffic. Just the same, there was plenty of parking both east and west of the park, and the poppies and other flowers were every bit as abundant. We had no trouble finding some wonderfully quiet corners to contemplate the beauty (addendum: trampling of the flower meadows is a real concern, especially this year. If you visit, stay on the roads and trails).

As to the wandering volcano of the title? Just west of the preserve, some unusual rock outcrops can be seen near the junction of Lancaster road and Highway 138 at Neenach. These rocks, the Neenach Volcanics, are about 23.5 million years old, and lie adjacent to the San Andreas fault. The volcano is only half here; the remainder sits on the other side of the fault, 195 miles to the northwest, at Pinnacles National Monument, which I have discussed earlier, here and here. For several reasons, the Neenach Volcanics have not been exposed in the spectacular manner of the rocks at Pinnacles, but the story they tell is just as compelling.

So there, I found a geologic connection that allowed me to show you some flower pictures. You'll probably see a few more gratuitous flower pictures in coming posts. I took around a hundred, and I have to show them to somebody...

For those who are new to Geotripper, the "Other California" is my long-running web series on the fascinating geological places in my fine state that don't usually show up on the postcards (although I've been known to break my own rules every so often; California's poppies are on postcards all the time).

The Antelope Valley California Poppy Reserve: Color in the Western Mojave Desert This Week

I admit I've taken artistic license, in that I took this picture of a busy hummingbird on the same day, but by the time I took the shot, I was two hundred miles north in the parking lot of a Black Bear Diner in Tulare, California on my way home. But it sure catches the eye, doesn't it?

We were in Southern California for the wedding of my god-daughter this last weekend (have a great life Megan and Richard!), and I must say they picked a good time to give us an excuse for hitting the road. On the way home we made our way along the San Andreas fault from Cajon Pass to the Grapevine, hunting for earthquakes, and hoping to see some colorful wildflowers, despite California's crippling drought. A drought, yes, and a huge water deficit, but we had a few good storms roll through the state in the last few weeks, giving a boost to the wildflower season.

We took a chance and headed out the Antelope Valley California Poppy Reserve to see if the poppies were blooming. They were. They are certainly a bit more limited in scope than in wetter years, but they formed a beautiful golden carpet across the desert floor. They were also mostly closed up in the fierce wind that was blowing through the area in the aftermath of the storm. The poppies are natural, but exist here for an unnatural reason, a topic I discussed back in 2010 in this post.

In that post I described how.the flowers are a natural phenomena, but a natural phenomena with a very human influence. About seven miles west of the Poppy preserve there is another state park: Arthur B. Ripley Desert Woodland State Park. The park preserves 580 acres of what turns out to be the native land cover of the Mojave Desert west of Lancaster and Palmdale: juniper woodland and Joshua Trees.

A century ago, this high end of the desert was cleared of Joshua Trees and Juniper, usually by chaining (dragging a huge chain between tractors that knocked down whole forests) or fires in order to put in thousands of acres of alfalfa fields and other crops. Large areas were reserved for sheep and cattle grazing as well. The natural plant cover was long gone. Much later, some of the abandoned fields started to recover, and the showy wildflowers are the pioneer species that are the first to recolonize disturbed lands.  Joshua Trees can no longer recolonize the valley floor; they don't have any method to spread their seeds widely (Joshua Trees were once spread in giant ground sloth poop...). Despite their incredible beauty, the wildflower displays are a monument to our extensive alteration of the environment that once existed here.

Many of the agricultural fields have been abandoned for lack of water and other economic reasons, but our utilization of the desert for our human needs continues. Notice in the picture below the huge windmills in the distance, and what I think is a large solar array.

After taking in the beautiful fields of California Poppies, we headed west along the San Andreas fault to Highway 138 and the Gorman cutoff. Suddenly the hills were alive again with what looked like the beginning of a nice blooming of lupines and some kind of yellow flower (we didn't have time to stop and investigate closely).

I imagine that in a week or so this will be a true wonderland of color, especially after the weekend dousing by the short but intense storm that rolled through California. The storm was too late to do anything about the drought, but it brightened the world just a little before the summer heat sets in.

The Other California: Caught in the Vise (the Western Mojave Desert)

The western Mojave Desert is a little-known corner of California, except during the late winter and spring when parts of the desert come alive with Golden Poppies, Lupine, Goldfield, Cream Cup, and Desert Larkspur. Now, my readers know that I would NEVER stoop to thinking up some geology to talk about just so I could show some pictures of flowers from my trip through the area last week. So feel free to ignore any flowers that just happen to impose themselves between you and the very important mountains that make up the horizon of the pictures below.

The western Mojave is the relatively flat triangular region lying between the Garlock and San Andreas faults (see the NASA image above). The Garlock is a fault that few Californians hear about. It has not produced a major earthquake in perhaps a thousand years, with the largest historical quake being a 5.7 magnitude event in 1992. It is thought capable of producing much larger tremors, as high as magnitude 7.6 . The Garlock is a left lateral fault (the side opposite the observer moves to the left) that has shifted as much 40 miles.

In the picture above, the Garlock fault lies at the base of the Tehachapi and El Paso Mountains in the far distance. The Tehachapis are composed of granite and metamorphic rocks, and make up the southern "toe" of the Sierra Nevada. 4,000 foot high Tehachapi Pass (below) is a major transportation corridor between northern and southern California, including the last railroad crossing over the Sierra Nevada for some 300 miles (the next crossing north is at Donner Pass near Lake Tahoe).

The more familiar San Andreas fault is the 600 mile long transform boundary that divides the North American plate from the Pacific Plate. It was been responsible for two of California's biggest earthquakes: the 1857 Fort Tejon quake and the 1906 San Francisco tragedy. The area southwest of the fault is moving northward about 2 inches a year, breaking loose in large earthquakes every two or three centuries. In the picture below, the San Andreas lies just over the ridge in the distance.

I wrote about the Antelope Valley California Poppy Reserve in a previous post, so I won't add much here other than to say that the low hills of the preserve provide a wonderful view of the landscape produced when two major fault systems converge on each other...especially in spring.

The Other California is my continuing series about the less familiar parts of the state that don't usually show up on the postcards. I am cheating just a little because poppies show up on almost ALL the postcards. And yes, the picture below is just simply a gratuitous flower picture...

Life from an Ant's Point of View...

I was going to find some kind of geological note to add here, but I did that pretty extensively yesterday, so today, it is just a bit of whimsy...have you ever wondered what springtime on the Antelope Valley California Poppy Reserve looks like from the point of view of an ant??

The Other California: A Wandering Volcano and a Floral Outburst

I can still be astounded....

There are lots of things I haven't seen and done in my life, but I can imagine what it is going to be like to see a rhyolitic volcano erupting at close quarters, or to feel a magnitude 8 quake (6.9 is my biggest so far). But sometimes things happen that just leave me breathless, if only from the unexpectedness of it all. That's what happened to me today.

I had always heard about the Antelope Valley California Poppy State Reserve, but had never seen it, especially in the late winter or early spring when the blooms are at their peak. We were taking an alternate route home, generally following the San Andreas fault from Cajon Pass to Grapevine Summit on Interstate 5. The desert was mostly dry and barren for much of the route, but as we passed Palmdale and Lancaster, I looked west and saw something I had never seen before: orange hills. Fluorescent orange hills. As we drew closer, it was clear that the California Poppies were at their golden best.

After expending several hours using vast amounts of digital space on my camera, I started to ponder why the flowers were here, and not elsewhere across the Mojave Desert, at least not in such dominating numbers. I first considered the slightly higher elevation, the local rocks and sediment, soil conditions and drainage, but I started to realize there was another dynamic going on...the flowers are a natural phenomena, but a natural phenomena with a very human influence. About seven miles west of the Poppy preserve there is another state park: Arthur B. Ripley Desert Woodland State Park. The park preserves 580 acres of what turns out to be the native land cover of the Mojave Desert west of Lancaster and Palmdale: juniper woodland and Joshua Trees.

A century ago, this high end of the desert was cleared of Joshua Trees and Juniper, usually by chaining (dragging a huge chain between tractors that knocked down whole forests) or fires in order to put in thousands of acres of alfalfa fields and other crops. Large areas were reserved for sheep and cattle grazing as well. The natural plant cover was long gone. Much later, some of the abandoned fields started to recover, and the showy wildflowers represent some of the pioneer species (I've noticed for years that the best wildflower shows in any forested areas occur after fires: Yellowstone, Yosemite, and many other areas). Without any nearby natural vegetation, there is no way for the native Joshua Trees and other large trees and shrubs to recolonize the valley floor; they don't have any method to spread their seeds widely (Joshua Trees were once spread in giant ground sloth poop...). Despite their incredible beauty, the wildflower displays are a monument to our extensive alteration of the environment that once existed here.

Just the same, the flowers were one of the most intense displays of color I've ever seen. Lest you think that I had discovered some isolated and unknown Eden, well, a look at the photo below should dissuade you from thinking that these poppies are a well-kept secret. It was actually impossible to get to the park visitor center due to the traffic. Just the same, there was plenty of parking both east and west of the park, and the poppies and other flowers were every bit as abundant. We had no trouble finding some wonderfully quiet corners to contemplate the beauty.

As to the wandering volcano of the title? Just west of the preserve, some unusual rock outcrops can be seen near the junction of Lancaster road and Highway 138 at Neenach. These rocks, the Neenach Volcanics, are about 23.5 million years old, and lie adjacent to the San Andreas fault. The volcano is only half here; the remainder sits on the other side of the fault, 195 miles to the northwest, at Pinnacles National Monument, which I have discussed earlier, here and here. For several reasons, the Neenach Volcanics have not been exposed in the spectacular manner of the rocks at Pinnacles, but the story they tell is just as compelling.

So there, I found a geologic connection that allowed me to show you some flower pictures. You'll probably see a few more gratuitous flower pictures in coming posts. I took around a hundred, and I have to show them to somebody...

For those who are new to Geotripper, the "Other California" is my long-running web series on the fascinating geological places in my fine state that don't usually show up on the postcards (although I've been known to break my own rules every so often; California's poppies are on postcards all the time).