Showing posts with label Mt. Shasta. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mt. Shasta. Show all posts

Friday, September 15, 2023

A California Love Letter: It's the Best Geology to be Found Anywhere!

This is the second of some resource materials I have on our college website that are being removed, so I wanted to preserve them. The following is some info I give to my students of my "Geology of California" course. For the majority of these students, it is their first introduction to geology, and their first introduction to the extraordinary state that is their home. For a more complete explanation of each superlative, click on the orange links (down the rabbit hole!). Enjoy!

Highest point in the lower 48 states: Mt. Whitney, 14,505 feet 

Lowest point in the western hemisphere: near Badwater, Death Valley, -282 feet

The deepest canyon in North America (maybe): Kings Canyon, Giant Sequoia National Monument. Hells Canyon on the Oregon/Idaho border may be 19 feet deeper. Maybe...

Largest living things in the world: Sequoia Trees

Tallest living things in the world: Coast Redwoods

Oldest living things in the world: Bristlecone Pines (5,000 years), White Mtns, or Creosote Bushes in Colorado Desert (11,000 years)

My Scottish BBC Interview at a relatively balmy 110 degrees

Hottest Place on the Planet and Driest Place in North America: Death Valley: 134 degrees, precipitation 1.4"/year

One of the Snowiest Places in the U.S.: Tamarack, Sierra Nevada, 76 feet in one year, 32 feet in one month, 37 feet on ground at one time

Highest Waterfall in the North America (no. 7 in world): Yosemite Falls, 2,425 feet

Second tallest active volcano in the U.S.: Mt. Shasta, 14,162 feet

Second most recently active volcano in lower 48 states: Mt. Lassen (1914-21)

Most voluminous volcano in the lower 48 states: Medicine Lake Highland (around 130 cubic miles) in northeastern California

Scarp from the 1872 Lone Pine earthquake

Some of the largest earthquakes in the lower 48 states: 1906 (San Francisco 7.8), 1872 Lone Pine (7.8), 1857 (Ft. Tejon 7.8)

Old oil derrick near the Santa Clarita Valley

One of the more prolific oil and natural gas producing regions in the world: Los Angeles Basin, Bakersfield, and Santa Barbara-Ventura Channel

One of the biggest explosions ever: Long Valley Caldera, 750,000 years ago, 125 cubic miles of ash spread all over the western states as far east as Nebraska and Kansas

McWay Falls at Julia Pfeiffer-Burns State Park on the Big Sur Coast

No other state has the combination of landscapes: Coastlines, deserts, mountains, river valleys and plateaus, due in no small part to the fact that California is influenced by all three different kinds of plate margins: Divergent, convergent and transform. Few places in the world have this kind of diversity.

The San Andreas fault on the San Francisco Peninsula. San Andreas reservoir, from which the fault took its name, is in the foreground.

What would you add to this list???

Tuesday, December 31, 2019

A Resolution Recommendation: See the World. See as Much of the World as You Can

Grapevine Mountains in Death Valley National Park
When I first began to think about what I wanted to do with my life sometime in my teens, I knew I wanted a job that would take me outdoors for much of the time. When I was in high school, "earth science" or "geology" didn't exist as a course choice. So far as I knew, the "outdoor" major was to be a wildlife biologist, and I started heading that way. But in my first semester at community college, all the classes were full, so I took some course called "earth materials". The next semester I took "earth history", and a field course to the Grand Canyon. And by then I was hooked. I wanted to teach geology (many thanks to my first teachers, Marlin Dickey and Rod Parcel).
Death Valley National Park
My journey to a degree in geology was not an easy one. I did okay in my community college courses, achieving a pretty good GPA, enough to get me into a quality program at Pomona College, where I found the limitations of lazy study skills. I spent three years getting my act together, and another two working for the department before I started the graduate program at the University of Nevada, Reno. Once again I was challenged to the limits of my abilities, especially with a young family to support. But I made it through, holding a crying baby at two in the morning while typing my thesis on a Commodore 64 computer with a daisy wheel printer.
The Trona Pinnacles in the California Desert at Searles Lake
Somehow, I made the cut for a position as a laboratory teaching assistant, and later adjunct faculty at Santa Barbara City College. I worked there for four wonderful years before I was fortunate enough to be chosen as an instructor of geology at Modesto Junior College, where I've been teaching for 31 years and counting.
The 2019 "Super-bloom" in the Mojave Desert of California
Geology provided my one of the greatest gifts of my life. A doctor explores the human body. A computer programmer explores the circuitry of processors. A chemical engineer explores atoms and compounds. But a geologist explores the earth. And I can't imagine a greater privilege. The greater privilege though has been that I have spent a third of a century introducing students to a world outside the confines of their home cities. There is nothing quite like seeing the response of a student seeing the Grand Canyon or Yosemite Valley for the first time in their life.
Mesquite Dunes in Death Valley National Park
Our world, despite our horrible abuses, is a wonderous place, still full of beauty and adventures. Seeing it is a marvelous journey, but having some understanding of how it came to be gives the adventure deeper meaning. Even the plainest of landscapes, say the Central Valley (to us the Great Valley) has a fascinating story, one filled with oceans full of mosasaurs and plesiosaurs, gigantic sharks, and savannas full of mammoths, giant sloths and sabertooth cats.
A Five-spot in Death Valley National Park
Not everyone can travel and explore the planet, for lots and lots of reasons. When digital cameras became widespread, and this thing called the blogosphere appeared some time back in the cyber-early Pleistocene, I finally realized I had another tool with which to share the world. In 2008 I started this blog, with the idea of posting lots of pictures of the beautiful places of the planet. It became a way of introducing the wonders of the planet with people far beyond the confines of my college. I never dreamed I would still be doing it twelve years (and more than 2,100 posts) later. I have always appreciated those who have read and responded over the years.
Yosemite Falls, the 5th or 7th highest waterfall in the world.
In any case, this post is sort of a year-end gift of images from the journeys this year of myself, Mrs. Geotripper, and my wonderful students. If you live in California, a lot of these places are within a day's drive. I took students to Death Valley National Park in February, and Mrs. Geotripper and I made another trip there in March to seek out flowers.
"Mirror" Lake, a seasonal pond on Tenaya Creek in Yosemite Valley. Mt. Washburn in the distance.
Yosemite is close enough to Modesto for a day trip, and I managed to get there on four different occasions this year, mainly in the fall and in the spring. It's a different place with every visit, with new discoveries to be made every time.
The Gateway in Yosemite Valley, with El Capitan on the left and the Cathedral Rocks on the right.
We had the occasion of my grandmother's 100th birthday as a reason to spend a few days camping in the Coast Redwoods of Northern California
Humboldt Redwoods State Park in Northern California
Our summer field studies class gave us the chance to explore the Pacific Northwest and British Columbia. Use the search engine at the top left to check out "Travels in Cascadia" for the detailed stories of the places in the pictures that follow.
Mt. Shasta, the largest (but only second highest) stratovolcano in the lower 48 states.

Cape Flattery, the northwesternmost point of the lower 48 states, near Neah Bay, Washington

The Olympic Mountains from Hurricane Ridge in Olympic National Park

Lupines in Hurricane Ridge in Olympic National Park, Washington

The upper end of Howe Sound, the southernmost glacial fjord on the west coast of North America, British Columbia from near the summit of Stawamus Chief near Squamish

Black Bear in Whistler, British Columbia in Canada

Rainy Lake near North Cascades National Park in Washington

North Cascades National Park in Washington
In September, we carried on an exploration of the eastern Sierra Nevada, traveling over Sonora Pass. We base-camped in Bishop for three days while we explored the High Sierra near Mammoth and June Lake, Mono Lake, and the White Mountains.
Sunrise out of Bishop, California, east of the Sierra Nevada
The White Mountains are an immense range reaching more than 14,000 feet, and containing one of the most unusual forests on the planet: the Bristlecone Pines. The trees live where almost nothing else can thrive, and they live for incredible lengths of time, as much as 5,000 years. From the Bristlecone Forest, one can take in more than a hundred miles of the Sierra Nevada crest, from Mt. Whitney to the Mammoth Lakes area.
The Sierra Nevada crest as seen from the White Mountains
The eastern Sierra Nevada is also a land of volcanism. We explored Devils Postpile, the Long Valley Caldera, the Bishop Tuff, and other features of recent volcanic activity.
Devils Postpile in the central Sierra Nevada
The Sierra Nevada is also one of the finest places in the world to study the effects of the Pleistocene glaciations. The June Lake Loop is an awesome valley that also serves as a gateway to the higher alpine parts of the Sierra.
Silver Lake on the June Lake Loop of the Eastern Sierra Nevada
Mono Lake is an enclosed basin filled by a saline inland sea. It is one of the most important stops on the migratory bird flyway, and the story of its preservation from the schemes of the LA Department of Water and Power is a rare (but still ongoing) environmental victory.
Mono Lake, near Lee Vining, California, east of the Sierra Nevada
Our journey home took us over Tioga Pass and through the high country of Yosemite National Park including Tuolumne Meadows and Tenaya Lake.
Tenaya Lake in Yosemite National Park
Our journeys weren't always on the surface. An October field studies class took us underground at Black Chasm Caves in the Sierra Nevada Mother Lode. There are more than a thousand limestone and marble caverns in California!
Black Chasm Cavern near Jackson, California in the Sierra Nevada Mother Lode
Our last journey of the year took us north to visit family in Oregon and Washington. The weather was not optimal, but I had a brief view of Mt. Rainier from the shores of Lake Washington one morning. The mountain looms over the Pacific Northwest in more than one way. The volcano is close enough to threaten urban areas on the Puget Sound.
Mt. Rainier from Lake Washington, near Seattle.
But in the end, don't forget about the most important place of all: home. There is a bit of nature hanging on anywhere you might live, even in the midst of the biggest cities on Earth. Find that place you can get to without too much trouble and expense, and get to know it well, maybe know it better than anyone else. Learn the birds, the mammals, the bugs, the reptiles. Get to know the rocks and plants. Watch them change over the course of the year. Your life will be richer for it.
The Tuolumne River in Waterford California, my home place
I wish for you the most wonderful of new years and new beginnings, even with the challenges that face us all. Thanks for reading!
The Tuolumne River in Waterford, California.

Friday, July 26, 2019

Travels in Cascadia: The Southern Sentinel, Mt. Shasta

Long ago in the mists of time, the god Skell, the spirit of the Above-World descended from the heavens and alit on the summit of Mt. Shasta. Eventually Skell waged a fierce battle with the god of the Below-World, Llao, who resided in Mazama, a high mountain to the north. There was much fire and ash, and the skies grew dark. In the end Skell prevailed and the body of Llao was cast back into the underworld, taking a good portion of Mazama with him. The tears of his followers filled the gaping hole, becoming what is today known as Crater Lake.

The collapse of Mt. Mazama was an actual event around 7,000 years ago and it was witnessed and remembered by the inhabitants of the region who told the story above. Large volcanoes loom large in the consciousness of people, as they possess great power and have the potential for great destruction. Mt. Shasta is no exception, and even today a multitude of people tell stories of Lemurians, Atlanteans, and aliens who all seem to have an abode in the mountain somewhere.

Geologists are story-tellers too, although they tend not to invoke gods as a reason for the mountain's activity. They instead look for the natural laws of the Universe to understand how volcanoes work (in a sense those natural laws are the gods of the sciences). It may be that hundreds of years from now, our stories will be seen as quaint myths, but like all societies and cultures, we understand things through the prisms of our technology, mutual experiences, and observations.
I've always found it fascinating the way humans interpret their world, and I've devoted my life to teaching the scientific view. But I come from a family and a society that has not been grounded in the landscape that it inhabits. It is a society of immigrants from all over the world who invaded a "new land" that had in fact been inhabited for thousands and thousands of years before being conquered. Understanding these cultures enriches our understanding of the land, and so I find myself being enthralled by the sciences of anthropology and archaeology. Ultimately I joined forces with the professors of anthropology at Modesto Junior College to put together a series of field courses that teach both the geology and the anthropology of the landscape. We've been to Italy and Switzerland, Hawaii, and all over the Southwestern United States. Most recently though, we explored British Columbia and the northern parts of Washington state. This new series I'm writing will explain my impressions of the trip that we took with 15 students, my fellow professor of anthropology, and Mrs. Geotripper. The term "Cascadia" refers to the Cascadia subduction zone, the huge gash in the Earth's crust that dominates the geology of the region.

Our students didn't actually see Mount Shasta, unless they saw it out the plane window. They all met us at SeaTac airport, but we had reasons to drive from California to Washington. Mt. Shasta is the foremost landmark in Northern California. It is at the southern end of the Cascadia subduction zone, and is considered potentially active (Lassen Peak is even further south, but we only had a brief view of it). It is a classed as a stratovolcano (or composite cone) and is composed mostly of andesite, a gray-colored intermediate silica volcanic rock. It has had eruptions roughly every 600 years over the last 10,000 years, with the most recent event probably in 1786. At 14,179 feet, it is the second highest Cascade volcano, but in volume it is the largest. There are five major glaciers around the summit, including Whitney Glacier, which at two miles is the longest glacier in California.

The volcano is actually a composite of four different cones of different ages: Sargent's Ridge, Misery Hill, Shastina, and Hotlum Cone. There was an even earlier version of Shasta dating to 600,000 years ago, but around 300,000 years ago the summit collapsed to form a gargantuan debris slide that traveled 28 miles north of the volcano, almost to Yreka. The lumpy hummocky surface visible around the Interstate 5 rest area near Weed is part of the ancient mass wasting event.

Shasta is visible from more than a hundred miles away, but as we continued north, the mountain receded from view. We got to Portland, Oregon, just in time to catch a few sights before the sun set. That story will be in the next post!

Tuesday, January 1, 2019

Good-bye to 2018: 12 Months of the Joy of Geology


Mesa Arch in Canyonlands National Park
It's been a year. There are lots of ways of looking at the events of 2018 and so many of them are tragic and unjust. But there is always hope as well. There are still the beautiful places of the Earth, and always a chance to seek them out, no matter where you are. That's the joy of being a geologist and a teacher. Or being anyone with a curiosity about our planet. What follows are twelve months of exploring our planet from my base in California's Great Valley.
Merced National Wildlife Refuge, south of the city of Merced.
Where does one go in January? So much of the countryside is covered in snow, but California is kind of special in that regard. We get to visit the snow if we want and then we can go home to our valleys and coastlines. The migrant birds know all about this. Millions of geese and other species spend their summers in the Arctic, but when the snows come they fly south and spend the winter in a series of wetlands and prairies that have been preserved in places like the Great Valley. Our destination in January was the Merced National Wildlife Refuge. There were thousands of Sandhill Cranes, Snow Geese, Ross's Geese, and multitudes of ducks. It is an overwhelming experience to stand at the edge of the wetlands and imagine this valley hundreds of years ago before agricultural development took over 95% of the landscape.
Zabriskie Point and Manly Beacon in Death Valley National Park
The most satisfying aspect of a teaching position in geology is the chance I have to share the incredible planet with my students in my classroom of course, but also in the field. In February our intrepid crew headed out to Death Valley National Park in the Basin and Range Province of eastern California. The valley is a vast fault graben with 11,000 foot peaks next to valley floors below sea level. It is the hottest place in the world and the driest place in North America, yet 20,000 years ago it contained a 100-mile long freshwater lake and grassy savannas with horses, camels, and mammoths. Some of the fish who inhabited the lake still survive today in isolated spring-fed ponds.
Natural Bridge in Death Valley National Park
Death Valley is recognized as the premier geology park in the national park system, containing rocks as old as 1.7 billion years, and including layers and intrusions from every period in Earth history ever since.

We survived a phenomenal windstorm on the last night of our trip. I hate to say I littered in a national park, but somewhere out on the dunes there is a tarp that blew away from under my tent in the night.
The Ghirardelli Store in Hornitos within the Sierra Nevada Mother Lode
Our field studies in March were closer to home. We journeyed through the southern Mother Lode of the Sierra Nevada. We saw ghost towns, old mines, and the quartz veins that were the source of the ores of the California Gold Rush in 1848. The ruins in the picture above are the Ghirardelli Store in Hornitos. Before he made chocolate in San Francisco, the man sold supplies to the miners in the Mother Lode.
Yosemite Falls in Yosemite Valley
In April, Yosemite National Park took center stage, as we took two field studies trips there. One of them was the morning after an epic flood that closed the park for a day or two. When we got there, the Merced River was still at flood stage and the waterfalls were booming.
Mt. Rainier in Washington
In May, family matters found us on a plane out of Seattle, Washington. We left for home in the early evening while Mt. Rainier was capturing the last rays of the sun. As you may have read in the last post, Rainier (14,411 feet) is the tallest volcano in the Cascade Range, and has more glacial ice than any mountain in the Pacific Northwest. The potential of eruptions happening under the ice makes Rainier one of the most dangerous volcanoes on the planet. Lahars (volcanic mudflows) could overwhelm some of the cities of the Puget Sound.
Horseshoe Bend on the Colorado downstream of Lake Powell and Glen Canyon Dam
One of the greatest adventures one could ever experience is an in-depth exploration of the Colorado Plateau. It is a showcase of geology with a treasure trove of national parks and monuments. In June, our intrepid crew headed out to plateau country where we explored Grand Canyon, Zion, Bryce Canyon, Black Canyon of the Gunnison, Mesa Verde, Arches, Canyonlands, Capitol Reef and Great Basin National Parks. The region is so extraordinary that a place like Horseshoe Bend on the Colorado River isn't even in a national park or monument.
House on Fire Ruin in Bear's Ears National Monument
One of the great crimes of the present administration in Washington D.C. was the attack upon the Bear's Ears National Monument. Even though the law didn't allow it, the park was reduced in size to 15% of what it had been before. And for the sole purpose of money, i.e. oil drilling and uranium mining. I hope the courts do the right thing this year.
Hurricane Ridge in Olympic National Park
In July Mrs. Geotripper and I escaped the heat and dust of the Great Valley and headed north along the coast, eventually reaching Olympic National Park in Washington. Hurricane Ridge is one of the most stunning viewpoints in America. The views take in the alpine peaks glaciers of Mt. Olympus, the temperate rainforests of the valleys, and the coastlines around Port Angeles. The mountains are composed of oceanic sediments and seafloor crust pushed upwards by the motions of the Cascadia Subduction Zone.
We stayed close to home in August, but almost every morning found me walking the Parkway Trail along the Tuolumne River where it flows from the Sierra Nevada foothills onto the floor of the Great Valley. Birders (including me) discovered 115 species on this trail over the course of the year.
Valentine Cave in Lava Beds National Monument
The resumption of classes in August and September found me and my students on the road again. We explored the Cascades Volcanoes, including Mt. Shasta, Lassen Peak, Medicine Lake Highland and Lava Beds National Monument. Lava Beds has miles of lava tubes, one of the greatest concentrations in the world.
In October we went underground again with an exploration of Black Chasm Cavern. The cave has been carefully managed so that visitors can see cave decorations that are absolutely pristine. The cave has thousands of fragile speleothems called helictites. I call them stalactites on acid...
November was the lost month. The horrific fire in Paradise caused air quality to suffer throughout the state and the school shut down for a week and a half. It's the first time this has happened, and our scheduled field trip to Pinnacles National Park was postponed to the beginning of December. We went underground again, in yet another kind of cave. It wasn't limestone or marble, and it was a lava tube even though the Pinnacles are volcanic. It's a talus cave, one caused by giant boulders falling into and covering a narrow canyon. Hikers are in near total darkness for upwards of a quarter mile.

December arrived and along with it came the holidays. We have family all along the coast from California to Washington, so Christmas for us was a very long road trip. On our last night we stayed near Mt. Shasta in Northern California. The sunset provided beautiful lenticular clouds around the summit of the second and third highest volcanoes in the Cascades (you'll have to check out the last post to learn about that one).

And that was the story of my year and that of my students and Mrs. Geotripper. We saw a lot of incredible things, and my whole purpose in describing these places is to encourage you to explore them for yourselves. I know that this is impossible for many, which is quite literally why I write this blog. But if you can make time and get away, seek out the wild places where you live. If your local college offers field studies courses, consider getting back into school for some personal enrichment. I guarantee you won't regret it.

If you live in the vicinity of Modesto, the Modesto Junior College Geology Department will be offering a great line-up of field studies courses. We'll explore Death Valley again in February, the Southern Mother Lode in March, and Yosemite Valley in April. In September we'll head out to the Eastern Sierra Nevada and Owens Valley. In October we'll travel through the Mother Lode, and in November we'll be back to Pinnacles National Park.

But our premier trip with be on June 26-July 10 when we head to British Columbia and the Pacific Northwest. We'll be exploring Olympic and North Cascades National Parks, Vancouver Island, and the Coastal Mountain Ranges around Whistler and Pemberton. It will be a memorable experience. If you are interested, keep an eye on this blog, follow our Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/groups/1920712791360611/, or the class web page (soon to be updated) at http://hayesg.faculty.mjc.edu/GeologyPacificNorthwest.html.

See you on the road!