Travels in Cascadia: Gigantic Floods and Tallapus Meet at Willamette Falls

It's not fair, but I don't spend much time in Portland, Oregon. It's not that I don't like Portland, I just don't know it because the logistics of my normal travels rarely allow me to stop there. We are always three or four hours away from our destination and worried about getting through town without getting stopped in one of Portland's legendary traffic jams. But on our way to meet our students in Seattle for our field studies trip to British Columbia we decided to stay in Portland, ostensibly to get nice pictures of Mount Hood. We were moving along Interstate 205 and the traffic wasn't too bad, and saw a wayside viewpoint and pulled off. It was there that I discovered for the first time the work of Tallapus (Coyote) to help the Clackamas people procure a secure food supply of salmon and lamprey: Hyas Tyee Tumwater, otherwise known as Willamette Falls. It's the second largest waterfall in the United States after Niagara. It's 1,500 feet wide, drops around 40 feet, and has a flow that averages about 30,000 cubic feet per second.

What? You've never heard of it? Neither had I. I would have thought that the second largest waterfall in the country would have attracted a bit more attention among travelers, but there are reasons that it is not all that familiar. Some of the reasons go right to the heart of cultural conflicts between European colonizers and the original inhabitants of the region.

The Willamette River is a major tributary to the Columbia, providing around 10-15% of its total flow. Major rivers don't tend to have waterfalls unless unique geological conditions exist. And the story of the Willamette is pretty wild. The river is one of the few north-flowing rivers in the country, following a geologic trough related to the actions of the Cascadia Subduction Zone. In other words, the valley of the Willamette River was not carved by the Willamette River. The valley is weird in some other ways...there are fine silt layers covering much of the valley floor, but scattered here and there are hundreds of gigantic boulders weighing as much as 170 tons. Boulders that came not from the adjacent Coast or Cascades Ranges, but from Montana and Idaho! How can these things be explained?

The silt would normally be easy enough to explain. Geologists would assume that such sediments represent floodplain deposits of the Willamette, but they're not. The bedrock floor of the valley beneath the silt is actually composed of layers of basalt lava that erupted all over Washington and Oregon around 16 million years ago. The origin of the silt and the giant boulders are related one of the most incredible geologic events ever to effect Washington and Oregon. Considering the presence of giant volcanoes, gigantic rivers, and major subduction zones and earthquakes, that's saying a lot.

Between 15,000 and 13,000 years ago, the Pleistocene Ice Ages were beginning to wane, but an edge of the gigantic ice sheet that covered most of Canada flowed into Idaho and Montana and blocked of a major river drainage. A massive lake, now called Lake Missoula, formed behind the ice dam. The volume of the lake grew to 500 or 600 cubic miles of water, but then the ice dam destabilized and collapsed, sending a massive flood amounting to about ten times the combined flows of all the rivers on Earth racing across the plains of eastern Washington. The raging waters careened through the Columbia River Gorge at depths of hundreds of feet and the flows backed up into the Willamette River Valley. The muddy waters settled out, forming the silt layers covering the valley floor. The boulders arrived encased in icebergs in the turbulent currents. As the ice melted the boulders dropped out. The ice dam re-formed dozens of times and floods occurred at intervals of 50 or 60 years for around 2,000 years.

As the floodwaters receded the lava flows were exposed and then eroded by the waters draining from the Willamette. The ledges of lava became Willamette Falls.

So why isn't the second largest waterfall in the United States not a major national tourist attraction, like Niagara Falls? The basic reason is that although waterfalls are scenic and all, they are also a resource, and if humans of all cultures have anything in common, it is that if a resource is available, it will be utilized. For the Clackamas Chinook people and others in the region, the resource was food. The falls were a chokepoint on the Willamette, a barrier to the movement of salmon and lampreys upstream. Both fish could get past the falls, the salmon by jumping from one particular ledge/pool to another, and the lampreys by using their sucker mouths to climb the wet rocks. But the animals would be concentrated at the falls where they could be easily captured. The falls were considered a gift from Tallapus, and a number of villages were present in the area. The Clackamas had a surplus of salmon that they were able to trade with other tribes in the region.

Source: By M.O. Stevens - Own work, CC BY 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=6816704

To American and European colonizers, the falls meant something different: power. The Native Americans had been decimated by European diseases like smallpox even before first contact, so were able to offer little resistance to the sweeping changes the colonizers brought to the waterfall. A flour mill came first in 1844, followed by paper mills beginning in 1866. A system of locks to allow upstream ship traffic was constructed in 1873. Hydroelectric generating stations arrived in 1888 and 1895. The developments destroyed the salmon runs, so a rudimentary fish ladder was blown out of the basalt in 1882. A more modern fish ladder was constructed in 1971. The flour mill was removed to make room for the paper mills, which operated until 2011. The ship locks were shut down in 2015. Only one of the power stations remains. In other words, the Willamette Falls today look like a nearly abandoned factory slum, which it technically is.

Most of these abuses are not visible from the overlook at Interstate 205. One wishes that with most of the ugly factories abandoned that the river and falls might be returned to a state resembling the primeval river. There are plans to "develop" the site with river walks and interpretive signs, but of course in the current culture of capitalism, also businesses and tourist attractions. It its own way tourism is a resource like any other, a commodity to be exploited.

In the end, I hope the stories will remain. The story of how Tallapus scooped out part of the river to slow down the migration of the salmon and lampreys so the people could catch some of them. And the story of how awesome, almost incomprehensive forces were unleashed by nature to form the falls through lava flows, glaciers, and gigantic floods.

Source: Army Corps of Engineers

Darlingtonia: A Horror Story in Sand and Serpentine: Part 2, the Sequel

Those "forked appendages" that look like they're reaching out for hug? Don't fall for it, it's a horrific trap!

In horror movies, we all know the monster/murderer is never dead, and that there is always a sequel. In that spirit, I am revisiting a blog from 2013 about Darlingtonia californicus, the carnivorous plant that lives in acidic or serpentine-based soils in northern California and Oregon. My last visit was during a November, so I missed any blooming flowers from the plants. This time, it was spring and I got pictures of the unique flowers of the Pitcher Planet (or Cobra Lily). They're towards the end of this post. Let's get to the story...

The trail through the forest began innocently enough. Greenery was everywhere. The travelers were hungry, driven by a need for food, a need so bad they could smell it. They drove deeper into the dark shadows. They began to be aware of a pervasive odor, an odor that awakened memories of delicious feasts from the past. Something was out there in the dark shadows.

There was an opening. The splendid odor of food wafted from inside. They were so hungry, they were driven to see what was in the opening. There were some strange fibers about their feet, but the smell of food was overpowering their sense of caution. They crept further inside, becoming vaguely aware that the floor beneath their feet was becoming slippery. The entrance was now out of sight, but they didn't worry, they could see openings that would allow them to escape if necessary. They started sliding deeper into the cave, and they became alarmed. They decided they were in danger, and climbed towards the openings only finding to their increasing panic that they were transparent windows, not exits. They could not escape! Where was the opening? It was gone. 

A pool appeared below. A pool filled with the digested remains of previous travelers. The travelers realized their peril and tried to climb back up but downward pointed spikes prevented them from doing so. They struggled, exhausting themselves as they fell deeper into the abyss...

And such is the terrifying drama that was recommended to me by Lockwood when he found I was headed to Florence, Oregon for Thanksgiving back in 2013. Of course the travelers were insects, not humans, and their terrifying trap was a Darlingtonia californica, also known as the Pitcher Plant or the Cobra Lily. The plant grows in northern California or southern Oregon, in two completely different environments: sandy coastal bogs and serpentine soils. In both environments nitrogen is limited and the plants get it by capturing and digesting insects.

They're looking at you...

The Darlingtonia Botanical Wayside is a small parkland of 18 acres about five miles north of Florence, Oregon in a bog formed in the hollows of coastal sand dunes that have been stabilized by the growth of a thick forest. It's a pleasant little stop, and given the nature of the plants in the bog, maybe free of mosquitoes? Maybe not at other times of the year...it was pretty cold the first time we were there. Yesterday it was windy.

They're discussing you...

It was November when I visited the first time. We were there on the last day of May this year, and the flowers of the Pitcher Plants were blooming.

The plant is a real conundrum. On the one hand it attracts bugs in order to pollinate the plant, but on the other it tries to consume them!

The trail is short and handicapped accessible, and there are several interpretive signs.

They're all looking at you and sizing you up. Be scared. Be very scared...

The small section of forest in the park was also beautiful. I haven't been in the area enough to start recognizing the species just yet. Cedar or spruce?

If the Darlingtonia doesn't get you, maybe the tree trolls will instead...

No, It's Not Erupting...and Probably Won't Any Time Soon: Mt. McLoughlin in the Oregon Cascades

There is a grand and momentary sight to be had if you are driving south on Interstate 5 about seven or eight miles north of Medford, Oregon. If the weather is clear when you round the last bend before the Rogue Valley, a beautifully symmetrical volcano comes into view. It is called Mt. McLoughlin. It's really quite dangerous for geologists to drive on this highway because of our tendency to swerve and hit the brakes the moment we see the volcano and start scrabbling around trying to find the camera. I get honked at a lot by angry truckdrivers all the time around that moment.

Luckily for me, Mrs. Geotripper was riding shotgun today, and I knew the corner was coming up. She got the camera ready ahead of time and was able to snap a couple of pictures. With the news of volcanoes erupting around the world at the moment (check out Mt. Etna in Italy and Krakatoa in Indonesia, for instance), it's not surprising to consider for a moment that McLoughlin looks like it's erupting. What we are seeing here is clouds forming as warmer air masses are blown upslope into colder air around the summit. The cooler temperatures cause the humidity to jump and condensation forms the clouds around the volcano summit. Sometimes the clouds are more lens-shaped (lenticular), giving rise to legends of UFO landings and aliens.

Mt. McLoughlin is 9,495 feet (2894 meters) in elevation and can best be described as a composite cone, as it is in part a basaltic shield with a prominent summit cinder cone and andesite flows. It has not erupted in the last 20,000-30.000 years and thus appears to be low on the list of recognized hazardous volcanoes. From some angles McLoughlin is a deceptively symmetrical cone. The summit has been deeply carved by glaciers.

Mt. McLoughlin is soon lost among the trees, buildings, and powerlines of Medford. It's not a particularly worrisome volcano although it is capable of wreaking havoc if the unlikely ever happens. But if you keep driving south on I-5, there are highway signs pointing to a volcano, or more correctly, a caldera, that is not visible at all from the freeway. It's Crater Lake, and it is a much more dangerous volcanic complex than McLoughlin. It erupted catastrophically only 7,000 years ago. And farther south still is Mt. Shasta. It looms menacingly over Northern California, and we'll have a short look at it in our next post.

POSTSCRIPT: I found out I had some aerial shots of McLoughlin from a flight I took in 2005. Here's one of the best. We were east of the volcano looking west. The glacial cirques are clearly visible...

The Flip Side of Dune Stabilization: Dunes Unleashed in Central Oregon

In our last post, we had a look at the "carpeted" dunes of Florence, the ridges of wind-blown sand along the coast that have been "stabilized" by invasive European Beach Grass. The grass was planted in the 1920s and has spread from California to British Columbia. It's a real problem, and huge changes have taken place in the geography of the dune environments along the west coast, especially  at Oregon Dunes National Recreation Area.

The beach grass has displaced native plants and animals, and caused massive foredunes to rise above the beaches. The inland areas behind the foredunes became starved of sand, forming deflation basins where pools and lakes formed and forests thrived. These are all problems for the original ecosystem of the dunes, but there is the flip side: the stabilization of the dunes was done for a reason.

Not all of the dunes in the Florence region are covered by dune grasses. Sand that blew away from the deflation basin formed dunes on the eastern edge of the dune field and many of those dunes have not been covered by beach grasses. The dunes are still active, migrating eastward with the prevailing wind. And that's a problem, at least in some areas.

I was at a shopping center in town on a recent trip, and I wasn't having much fun (it was Christmas shopping or some such thing), but I had noticed the dune sands behind the complex and headed out to have a look. The sand ridge was huge and so steep I had to really search to find a spot to climb to the crest. I huffed and puffed my way up and was presented with the awesome view of clean dunes and a distant lake in the deflation basin (the picture at the top of the post).

But the crux of the sand problem was the steepness of the dune behind the store complex. It was  steeper than the angle of repose (the natural angle of the sand slope). It was immediately obvious that the huge pile of sand was encroaching onto the business complex, and there was a lot of sand. The dune tops were twice as high as the building. There is an ongoing battle to stop or slow the movement of the sand.

It looks like they've been bulldozing sand, undercutting and increasing the slope of the dune. It's no doubt an expensive fix, but falling back to the "solution" of the 1920s would be unthinkable today. The movement of sand is unrelenting, and there will always be problems at the back of this business complex.

Our sojourn in Florence was about to end. We didn't quite know what lay ahead, since we had only a single camp reservation for one night for the next four days. We were going vagabonding, a tradition (and sometimes a source of stress!). More to come...

The Carpeted Dunes of Oregon's Central Coast: The Principle of Unintended Consequences

So how about this plush carpeting on a sand dune? What? It doesn't look like a sand dune? Some people are such skeptics....let's find a trail...

There's the sand, with three or four feet of grassroots on either side.

We are at the north end of Oregon Dunes National Recreation Area near the estuary of the Siuslaw River in Florence. The grass growing on and covering these dunes is European Beachgrass (Ammophila arenaria), an invasive plant that was introduced in the 1920s. It was an excellent example of the principle of unintended consequences. The apparent solution of one problem resulted in a number of others.

There are some very specific problems associated with living along the Oregon coast between Florence and Coos Bay. The forty-mile stretch of sandy beaches and dunes ranges up to three miles inland and any roads or towns built there must contend with the instability of windblown sand and dune migration. The introduction of the European Beachgrass was seen as a way of stabilizing the dunes. In a sense, the grass did the job too well.

The grass has deep roots and spreads rapidly, overwhelming and replacing the native plant species. By anchoring the sand just above the shoreline, new sand blowing in from the beach is trapped in the grasses, causing the foredunes to grow higher and higher. Little of the new sand on the beach gets past the foredune system, and a form of stability is achieved.

Deflation basin in the south jetty area of the Siuslaw River

Without the infusion of new sand, the area inland of the foredune system becomes starved of sediment. The wind blows just as much and carries what sand there is farther inland, sometimes burying the forests growing there. What had been a dune complex with occasional islands of trees and vegetation becomes a deflation basin, a place where sand is removed to the local groundwater level. The wet ground and ponds found there become a stable surface where a thick forest can start growing. The dunes are stabilized to an extent, but much of the dune environment with all the native plants and animals is lost (see the comparison below).

Another problem with many invasive species is that they don't tend to stay where they are supposed to. The desired level of control was achieved in some places, but the grass continued to spread far beyond, invading areas like the Oregon Dunes where open dune environments were still desired. The beach grass is now found on coasts from Southern California to British Columbia. And it is extremely difficult to control or remove.

The grass can be pulled manually (by volunteers most of the time) but roots are always left deep in the sand and the grass soon sprouts again. The shoots have to be pulled seven or eight times before the grass is truly gone. It's hard work. Bulldozers and other mechanical means can be used, but the expenses are high. Some herbicides can be used as well, but the disruptions to the native species can be profound. All in all it is a sticky problem.

The coastal sand dune environment is a fascinating place to visit, and there are many recreational opportunities, but there are also opportunities to volunteer and help achieve a return to the natural conditions that existed before humans tried to mold the landscape to their liking. One place to start is the Oregon Dunes Restoration Collaborative which works to preserve and rehabilitate the dune system.

That's a Huge River! Well, Not Exactly...Sediments in the Siuslaw River Estuary

In the photo above we're on a hill overlooking the Siuslaw River near Florence, Oregon. From this point of view the river looks huge and indeed the channel is navigable and leads to a working marina a mile or two upstream. But looks can be deceiving, and a careful observer will note that the "river" spends half of the time flowing the wrong direction. Like two of the last posts here on Geotripper, the Moon is part of the story...this is a tidal estuary. The Moon has the greatest influence on the intensity of the tides.

There is a Siuslaw River, of course, but it is just not quite this big. It is 120 miles long, starting at an elevation of 636 feet in the Oregon Coast Ranges, draining an area of about 773 square miles. The discharge of the river varies greatly depending on the season. The long-term average is around 3,000 cubic feet per second, but last week when I was there it was a mere 145 cubic feet per second. During the worst of flooding the river can exceed 50,000 cfs. But it is the lower part of the river that is affected most by the tides. During extreme high tides, changes in river level can be noted 26 miles upstream.

An estuary is the portion of a river influenced by tides where there is a constant mixing of salt and fresh water. Estuaries are rich in nutrients and one of the richest biomass producers on the planet. The estuary of the Siuslaw River developed at the end of the last Ice Age. With so much water locked up in glacial ice, sea level was hundreds of feet lower than it is today, and the Siuslaw River occupied a deep channel that continued for miles west of the current coastline. As the ice melted, sea level rose and flooded the river valley, but the Siuslaw River carried vast amounts of sediment to fill the flooded channel, forming the flat level valley we can see today. Additional sediment is added by wind blowing sand from the coastal dunes that line the lower channel (the Siuslaw is at the northern end of Oregon Dunes National Recreational Area).

When I was there a week or two ago, we experienced an intense low tide that exposed some rarely seen sedimentary structures in the channel. When the tides rise, water rushes upstream, and when the tides fall, the water goes out to sea. Flowing over the loose silt and sand, the flow causes the development of gigantic ripples like those in the pictures above and below.

It didn't occur to me at the time, but this is not a natural channel. Because of the ship traffic, the channel is dredged to maintain sufficient depth for the boats to pass through. There are other changes in the last century. The drainage of the Siuslaw is one of the most heavily logged regions in Oregon, and the clearcutting of timber has changed the nature of slope failure and flooding on the river. Trees and logjams used to trap sediment upstream, providing a rich breeding ground for salmon. The logjams were removed and the river scoured the channel to bedrock in many places. One of the most destructive activities was the process of "splash-dam" logging. Temporary dams were built across the river and trees were cut and floated in the reservoir. The reservoir was then dynamited and the resulting flood carried the logs downstream to the mills. The practice, needless to say, was hugely destructive of the salmon fisheries. Over the years the salmon runs declined from hundreds of thousands of fish each year to mere thousands.

Some of the sources I checked pointed out that the Siuslaw once was the second richest salmon fishery in Oregon after the Columbia River. Efforts are being made to improve the environment to build the salmon runs. They'll never be what they were a century ago given the vast changes upstream, but there is a lot of potential for growth of fish populations. In the meantime, it is an interesting place to visit if you are ever lucky enough to find yourself on the central Oregon coast (especially during the present heat wave!).

America Has Other Volcanoes: Airliner Chronicles Visits Mt. Hood

The tragic and yet fascinating activity on the Big Island of Hawai'i has focused attention on volcanism in the United States, and has served to remind us that Hawai'i isn't the only place in the country that has to face up to the hazards of living in the shadow of dangerous mountains. I traveled to Washington by plane last week and was lucky enough to capture images of several of the volcanoes of the Cascades. We looked at Mt. Rainier first, and then at California's largest yet little-known volcano, Medicine Lake Highland. I really wanted to show some shots of St. Helens but we flew right over it, so I cheated and used some shots from 2006. But I wasn't disappointed by Oregon. The face of Mt. Hood was still illuminated by the rapidly setting sun.

Mt. Hood is the headache for emergency planners in Portland and the small villages south of the Columbia River. It is the highest mountain in Oregon at 11,249 feet (3,429 meters). The upper slopes are extremely rugged and steep and as such present a serious threat of debris avalanches similar in nature to that which destroyed the summit of Mt. St. Helens in 1980. The scar of the most recent avalanche can be seen on the right side of the summit in the picture below. The slide took place about 1,500 years ago. The prominent spike of rock in the alcove is called Crater Rock, and it is the remains of a lava dome that erupted around 1781. An earlier avalanche around 100,000 years ago removed the north flank of the mountain and flowed down Hood River Valley and across the Columbia River.

The thick mantle of snow presents the other serious hazard, that of lahars, or volcanic mudflows. The fluid masses have reached the outskirts of Portland in the past, and some lahars have occurred in recent years even though no eruption took place.

Living near volcanoes doesn't and shouldn't mean living in constant fear, but it is important to be aware of the potential threats where you live, and an understanding of what you will need to do in the event of an eruption. And because of all the crap roiling around on the internet, get your information from the geologists who work for the U.S. Geological Survey or state surveys in your area. Always be aware of the potential of exaggeration in the media, because even if they present good information, it will be cloaked in clickbait-style headlines that they utilize to get attention these days.

Meanwhile, the plane continued southward, and another volcano or two could still be discerned in the fog and mist. My mention of the Airline Chronicles refers to my first blog series that started way back in 2008. Some more information on Mt. Hood is available at  https://pubs.usgs.gov/fs/2000/fs060-00/.

Explore the Pacific Northwest and Northern Rocky Mountains with Geotripper! June 17-July 1, 2017

Grand Tetons National Park, Wyoming

Be forewarned. This post is a TRAP! It is designed to draw you in, weaken your defenses, and cause you to do something different than everyday life. Warning given...

Have you ever dreamed of hitting the open road and finally seeing those places you've dreamed about, but haven't acted on that dream yet? What if you found out about an excursion that doesn't just tour, but allows you to learn the geology and history of those wild places? A tour on which you can even earn college credit? AND, a tour that is affordable? Maybe this is the one...

Mt. Shasta, a Cascade volcano in northern California

From June 17-July 1, 2017, the geology department of Modesto Junior College will be conducting a field studies course (Geology 192) in the Pacific Northwest and Northern Rocky Mountains. It will be a three semester unit course designed for our community college clientele: first year geology majors, potential geology majors, and community members (especially teachers) interested in geology and natural history. We will develop the necessary geological background prior to and in the early days of the trip, so people of all backgrounds are encouraged to attend. The total cost is $800 which will include all food, camp fees, entrance fees, transportation costs for the trip. The tuition cost for the three units of semester credit will be around $180 (out of state tuition is higher, around $200 a unit, which is still a deal). The only additional costs should be for showers, laundry, books and other souvenirs, and junk food (we provide healthy food for the most part; if you want Twinkies you are on your own!). We will be camping each night, and the school provides the transportation (vans). The excellent meals are planned by our professional volunteer staff, and cooked by the participants under their watchful eyes.

Lava Tube in Lava Beds National Monument

What will you see and experience? On the 17th we'll leave MJC and drive north through the Great Valley of California and arrive at the south end of the Cascades Range. The huge edifice of Mt. Shasta looms over the north state at 14,163 feet, and still is potentially active. It last erupted in 1786. Depending on snow conditions, we'll climb to the 8,000 feet level at the old ski bowl and have a close look at the rock and ash deposits. We'll continue north and end the day at Lava Beds National Monument near the Oregon border. There will be chance to explore some lava tubes while we are there.

The view from Smith Rock State Park in Oregon

We drive through Oregon the next day, with possible stops at Crater Lake National Park and Newberry Crater (depending, once again, on snow conditions). Camp will be at Tumalo State Park. The following day we will explore Smith Rock State Park (above), Mt. Hood, and the Columbia River Gorge (if there is time we will climb Beacon Rock in the gorge). The third camp will be at Seaquest State Park at the foot of Mt. St. Helens in southern Washington.

Mt. St. Helens in Washington. It erupted in 1980 and 2004

The following day will be devoted to the exploration of Mt. St. Helens (weather allowing!). We'll then descend the eastern flank of the Cascades (including a close look at Mt. Rainier) and drive onto the Columbia River Plateau, a vast basalt plain that covers much of eastern Washington and Oregon. Camp will be at Wanapum State Park on the Columbia River near Vantage.

Dry Falls State Park in Washington. The floodwaters covered this entire landscape to a depth of 300 feet during the Spokane floods.

The next day we will view the evidence for vast floods that swept across the plateau during the Pleistocene ice ages. The discovery of these floods by J Harlan Bretz in the 1920s and the long road to acceptance of the hypothesis by the geological community is one of the great stories in the history of geology as a science. We'll have a look at the Channeled Scablands, Soap Lake, and Dry Falls as we travel east through Washington. We'll spend the night at Riverside State Park in Spokane, Washington.

Lake McDonald in Glacier National Park

We'll head through the copper mining districts of Idaho and into Montana where we'll see more evidence of the ice age floods, including the Camas Prairie where ripplemarks 30 feet high can be found. We'll end the day in a special place, Glacier National Park on the Montana-Canada border. We'll spend two days exploring the park, with chances at several hikes. The park is a showcase of glacial erosion, but the glaciers that exist in the park today are expected to be gone within a decade or two because of global warming.

Saint Mary Lake in Glacier National Park, Montana

When we leave Glacier, we'll head south through the high plains on the east side of the Rocky Mountains and end the day at the KOA in Bozeman, Montana. We'll check out the Museum of the Rockies, and depending on snow conditions, explore some of the high mountains that surround Yellowstone, and eventually drive the Beartooth Highway into Yellowstone, America's oldest national park. We'll spend two days exploring this incredible park.

Yellowstone Falls in the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone River

There is the Grand Canyon of Yellowstone, and a menagerie of incredible animals, including elk, bison, moose, bighorn sheep, and if we get really lucky, wolves.

Wolf near Norris Geyser Basin, Yellowstone National Park

Then there are geothermal features for which Yellowstone is so famous. Grand Prismatic Spring, for instance, and 70% of the world's geysers (there's lots more besides just Old Faithful!).

Grand Prismatic Spring, Yellowstone National Park

We'll then head south and spend two days at Grand Tetons National Park with time for some spectacular hikes. Then we start the road home with a drive through northern Nevada to Berlin/Ichthyosaur State Park to see the fossilized remains of the behemoth swimming reptiles from the age of the dinosaurs. Finally, we expect to see Mono Lake and the high country of Yosemite National Park. If snow blocks our path, we head home over Sonora or Carson passes.

Big Geyser (not Old Faithful!) in Lower Basin, Yellowstone National Park

It's hard to describe the wonders that exist across the Pacific Northwest and Northern Rocky Mountains without getting an overwhelming urge to get up and leave right away. If you are interested in joining us this summer, please check out the course web page at http://hayesg.faculty.mjc.edu/GeologyPacificNorthwest.html and join our Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/groups/185168445318910/. If you are in the Modesto region, we are having an information meeting on Monday, April 10 in the Science Community Center on the west campus of the Modesto Junior College at 7 PM in SCC 326 (attendance is not mandatory to go on the trip). We hope you will join us!