A Look Back at Ten Years of Geotripping: You can tell the world is an incredible place when these are the runners up...

This month I've been searching the archives for my favorite posts after ten years of geoblogging. The last two posts involved the ten most incredible places I've ever stood. What's striking is that as wonderful as these places are, I was quickly able to come up with ten (eleven, actually) more sites that weren't any less spectacular. So I posted this on May 19, 2014 as a follow-up to the list of the "best 10 places"...

I've noticed that nearly every movie reviewer puts a list of the runners up at the end of their list of the top ten movies of the year. In that spirit, I'm putting up a set of pictures from the places that almost made my top ten list of the most incredible places I've ever stood. As before, there is no particular order to these personal choices. It's a bit like asking which of your children you love the most...

 Number 20: Horseshoe Bend, Arizona

A few miles downstream of Glen Canyon Dam is a huge entrenched meander along the Colorado River. The deep blue color of the river isn't right; the silt has settled in Lake Powell, but it makes for a memorable color contrast. Learn more about Horseshoe Bend here.

Number 19: Antelope Canyon, Arizona

There are hundreds of spectacular slot canyons scattered across Utah and Arizona, and you don't have to pay to get into them, and the noontime tours can be extremely crowded, as in shoulder to shoulder, but there can be no denying that the long beams of sunlight reaching into the darkness of the labyrinth is a spectacular and unique sight. For more views, check out this link.

Number 18: Observation Point, Zion National Park, Utah

The Angel's Landing Trail in Zion is one of the most spectacular hikes in North America, but I can never forget my adventure of climbing to Observation Point on the other side of the valley and looking hundreds of feet down onto Angel's Landing (the Landing is the peak on the lower right). For more information about Zion, check out this link.

Number 17: Inspiration Point, Bryce Canyon National Park, Utah

Bryce Canyon is one of the most intricately eroded landscapes in the world, and the spires, called hoodoos, look otherworldly. Almost as incredible is to walk among the hoodoos below the rim, so here is a shot of the fir trees growing in the impossible environment of Wall Street Canyon at Bryce.

For more information about Bryce Canyon National Park, click here.

Number 16: Captain Jack's Stronghold, Lava Beds National Monument, California

The northern flanks of Medicine Lake Highland are coated in barren flows of basalt from the gigantic shield volcano. Within the flows are miles and miles of lava tubes, long caves left behind as the lava drained out. This was the setting for the Modoc Indian War of 1872-73, yet another tragic story of destroying the culture and lives of a people, in this case so settlers could have more land to graze cows and grow potatoes. It's a haunting place to stand. For more information, click here.

Number 15: The Big Sur Coast, California

A mountain range rises directly from the sea. That's about the only way to describe the incredible Big Sur Coast of Central California. This is a view of McWay Falls at Julia Pfeiffer-Burns State Park. For more details, check out this post.

Number 14: Muir Woods National Monument, California

I read somewhere that Muir Woods is the most heavily visited national monument in the United States, and I understand why. It's one of the few old growth Redwood Forests left anywhere close to the Bay Area, and it is a wondrous place to wander about. The Redwoods are ancient trees, both in individual age (thousands of years), and in ancestry (back to the age of the dinosaurs). More information about this incredible place can be found here.

Number 13: Pinnacles National Park, California

Around 23 million years ago, a volcanic center of five rhyolitic cones erupted on top of the San Andreas fault. The fault split the volcano, and the two halves are separated by 195 miles. At Pinnacles National Monument, the jointed blocks of lava and lahars have been eroded into towers and spires. The High Peaks Trail is one of my favorite hikes in North America. For more information, check out this link.

Number 12: Owens Valley and the Eastern Sierra Nevada

The most incredible wall of rock that I know is the eastern escarpment of the Sierra Nevada, a two-mile high barrier to storms and human travel. No highways cross a stretch of something close to 200 miles of mountain peaks. The Owens Valley is a deep fault trough that once was going to be one of the most important agricultural regions of California, but because of water diversions by Los Angeles, is now a sagebrush desert. Each canyon hides treasures, and I spent much of my youth exploring as many of them as possible.

Number 11: The Great Western Divide, Sequoia National Park, California

My own personal terra incognita, the Great Western Divide is a high sub-range in the middle of Sequoia National Park across the Kern River from the main Sierra Crest. It's one of the last major parts of California that I haven't set foot on, but I've looked in from the summit of Moro Rock. There are lots of places left to explore in my life...

And another Number 11 (because it's my blog and I make the rules): Mono Lake, California

Mono Lake probably belongs on another planet. It's one of the strangest sights in a state filled with strange sights, a lake that is three times as salty as seawater, with a simple ecosystem of basically algae, brine shrimp and brine flies, but the simple combination is a food source for millions upon millions of migratory birds. The edge of the lake is lined with strange tufa towers that formed along freshwater springs.

And that's my highly personal list of the second ten most incredible places I've stood, and it was just as hard to pick out as the first ten! I'd love to hear about more of your favorite places. Put them in the comments, or send me a story that I can post as a guest entry in Geotripper!

The Other California: Springtime along the Great Western Divide

Lupines along the Kaweah River gorge (Moro Rock and Alta Peak in the distance)

The Great Western Divide? Where's that?

My off and on blog series on the Other California is an exploration of the little-known places in my fair state with interesting, even fascinating geological features. Sequoia National Park might seem too familiar a place to be included as part of the "Other California", given that my own definition of the series is that it should include those places that don't normally show up on postcards, and Sequoia National Park certainly does.

So why include Sequoia? The primary reason is that it actually is less known than other parts of the Sierra Nevada. Ask folks where they go in the Sierra, and Yosemite Valley or Lake Tahoe are often the first places mentioned. And people often come to the park not so much for the geology, but for the biology, mainly to see the trees after which the park is named. But the park has a rich geological heritage as well.

Moro Rock from the Kaweah River gorge

The shape of the Sierra Nevada is often described as a tilted block of granitic rock and metamorphic rocks. That's true in the Sierra Nevada north of Sequoia. Driving to Yosemite National Park from the west involves a gradual climb up the western slope that continues to the Sierra Crest before dropping precipitously into the Owens Valley or Mono Lake on the east. Sequoia and the Southern Sierra Nevada is quite different. When one arrives from the west (which actually is the only way in which the park can be approached by roads), the road climbs steeply to a plateau, and the slope continues to a high crest. But not of the Sierra Nevada. It's an entirely separate mountain ridge called the Great Western Divide. The actual crest of the Sierra Nevada lies farther east, across the deep gorge of the Big Arroyo and the Kern River.

The Great Western Divide is a spectacular mountain range. It rises nearly to the height of the actual Sierra Crest, with several peaks exceeding 12,000 feet in elevation (A dozen or so peaks on the Sierra Crest reach 14,000 feet). Despite being far to the south, the peaks were high enough to be scoured by the glaciers of the Pleistocene Ice Ages.

A few weeks back we had the chance to pay an early springtime visit to Sequoia National Park. We came in from the west, up Highway 198 along the Kaweah River through the town of Three Rivers, and then up the Generals Highway to the Sequoia groves for which the park is justly famous. The road is notably curvy, and climbs through a rugged canyon choked with giant boulders that have tumbled from the cliffs above.

We soon passed one of those kitschy things that Civilian Conservation Corps workers in the 1930s seemed especially fond of constructing: a drive-through rock (to go along with "drive-through" trees). They enlarged the opening under the immense boulder, and put the road through it.

If one wonders why the road today circumvents the rock tunnel, one need only look at the underside of the boulder. People driving in scenic national parks are not known for paying close attention to their driving, and in a time of massive recreational vehicles, this kind of thing just doesn't cut it anymore.

A hat tip to the arrival of spring in the Sierra Nevada...the redbuds were in full bloom up the canyon, providing a splash of vivid color on the dark green slopes.

Although not as colorful as redbud, the ceanothus shrubs added a wonderful fragrance to the air. The bees and other pollinating insects were in heaven.

As we went further up the canyon, Moro Rock loomed ever higher above us. The granite rock of the dome expanded as the rock was exposed at the surface. The plutonic rock tended to fracture parallel to the surface, which had the effect of removing corners and edges from the rock outcrop, eventually leading to the formation of the dramatic dome. The process is called exfoliation. It would be so cool to climb the dome, but we knew that most of the park access roads would be closed because of the winter snowpack.

Except that they weren't. When we reached Giant Forest, there were a few snow patches here and there, but the snowpack is currently at half the normal level. All the roads were open, so we headed over to the Moro Rock trailhead. As dramatic as the dome is, trail access is easy because the CCC put in a stairwell to the summit. Easy that is, if you don't have problems climbing 300-400 steps. The views in the clear spring air were stunning.

Immediately across the Kaweah Gorge were the Castle Rocks (9,000+). The spires and towers of granitic rock exhibit the other result of rock expansion: jointing. When the fractures that result from pressure release are vertical, they allow water to get into the narrow spaces. If the water freezes it expands, wedging the rock apart. The water also aids in the chemical weathering of the rock, so as time goes on the cracks widen, forming the prominent spires.

Moro Rock is best known for the wonderful perspective it provides on the Great Western Divide. The mountains are often hidden from view by other high ridges or thick forest, but Moro Rock stands out from the mountainside, and the view is tremendous.

With the covering of winter snow, one can imagine the glaciers that carved the horns, aretes, and cirques that are so well exposed here. Cirques are the bowl shaped basins on upper ridges where the glaciers accumulated. Aretes are the knife-edged ridges that divide glacially carved valley, and horns are the sharp pointed peaks that result when glaciers pluck rocks from the base of the cliffs in the cirques and aretes. The Matterhorn in the Alps is a familiar example, but there are many horns to choose from on the Great Western Divide.

I have not yet had the privilege, but the High Sierra Trail winds its way from Crescent Meadow in Sequoia to the summit of Mt. Whitney and the Whitney Portal trailhead. It is 60+ miles long, and crosses two major passes, and it must be a marvelous adventure. It is second only to the John Muir/Pacific Crest Trail in popularity.

The picture below illustrates the difference between glacial erosion (the cirques and horns in the upper part of the photo), and the weathering and exfoliation that happens at the lower elevations (the domes both right and left of center).

Moro Rock also provides a wonderful view west towards the Sierra Nevada foothills and the usually invisible Central Valley. You are looking at the most polluted air in the United States: Bakersfield and Fresno. It's not entirely their fault, as they don't necessarily produce more pollution per capita, but the towns are surrounded by high mountains, so they can't blow their pollution into someone else's area the way other municipalities are able to. The photo below is as clear as I've ever seen it from Moro Rock.

Next, we took a look at some trees with a unique geologic history...