Into the Great Unknown: Whodunnit? A Mountain Range Goes Missing

The new day, our second on the grand river, began with a startling sunrise. Sunrises and sunsets in the Grand Canyon are not like other places. One never sees the sun rise above or dip below the horizon, because in the deep canyons, there is no such thing as a horizon. Like Plato's cave, we can only comprehend the sun rising over the Earth's horizon by imagining it from the reflections coming off the adjacent cliffs. If the sun hits camp at sunrise or sunset, someone has made a big miscalculation in choosing a campsite. Staying out of the sun for as long as possible is a continuing strategy during a summer rafting trip on the Colorado.

There was a foreshadowing of today's mystery in the previous post. On our continuing journey into the Great Unknown, rafting the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon, we had passed through three geological formations, the Kaibab, the Toroweap, and Coconino. The first two formed in a coastal environment, while the Coconino developed in a sand dune dominated desert. But we ended our first day on the river in the midst of the Hermit Formation, a striking red-brown layer composed of siltstone and mudstone. The bright red color in such rocks (and the presence of sedimentary structures like ripplemarks) is strongly indicative of deposition in a river floodplain environment.

As we drew deeper into the canyon, we encountered successively older rocks, and they revealed more and more redbeds. Now there were ledges and cliffs of sandstone and other coarser sediments, indicative of a higher energy environment, such as the river channels of large floodplains and desert sand dunes. Clearly a major geologic event had taken place, one that produced a vast volume of sediments over a wide region. For a region of the Earth's crust that had remained remarkably stable for nearly a billion years, this event stood out.

We had entered the Supai Gorge, named for the four formations of the Pennsylvanian-Permian aged Supai Group. Their names are tongue-twisters: the Watahomigi, Manakacha, and Wescogame formations and the Esplanade Sandstone. Where did all these sediments come from, and how do we know? The sediments had to come from a mountain range, but any such mountain ranges no longer exist, having been eroded to rubble many millions of years ago.

Ripplemarks and crossbedding in the sediments show that the rivers were flowing in a general southwest (today's southwest, anyway) direction, meaning the mountains lay to the east or northeast. In southwest Colorado, there are younger rocks, similar to the Mesozoic rocks found around Zion and Capitol Reef in southern Utah. But beneath them where the Paleozoic rocks should be found, there are only ancient Proterozoic metamorphic rocks and intruded granites. These ancient rocks are the roots of the Uncompahgre Uplift, otherwise known as the Ancestral Rocky Mountains.

The origin of the Ancestral Rockies remains somewhat of an enigma to geologists. They coincide in time with the collision of South America and Africa with the southeastern part of North America, an event that ultimately produced the supercontinent Pangea. But the Ancestral Rockies are hundreds of miles removed from the collision zone, so geologists infer a sort of chain reaction in the crust along ancient fault systems. In any case, the rise and destruction of a mountain range in Pennsylvanian and Permian time has provided us today with one of the most scenic and colorful layers in the Grand Canyon.

I came to love two bird species who make their home in the canyon. One of them was the blue heron. We would see them all through the canyon, gracefully soaring over the water, or stepping carefully in the shallows, looking for fish and other prey.

We continued to descend deeper into the canyon. Today's route would take us through a part of the canyon called the "Roaring Twenties", a series of rapids spaced on average only a half mile apart. After the relative paucity of rapids on the previous day, it was a real roller coaster. Remembering the scale of 1 to 10 for rapids in the Grand Canyon, we faced House Rock Rapid (7), North Canyon Rapid (5), Twentyone Mile Rapid (5), Twentythree Mile Rapid (4), Twentythree and One-Half Rapid (4), Georgie Rapid (6), Twentyfour and One-Half Rapid (6), Twentyfive Mile Rapid (6), Cave Springs Rapid (5), Tiger Wash Rapid (5), and Twentynine Mile Rapid (2).

All the boats made it through the rapids without incident, until (I think) Tiger Wash. As we slipped over the tongue of the rapid, I thought I saw one of the boats go vertical, and someone tumbled out. I thought it was my nephew at first, but soon found that it was the boat with my brother and his wife. Somehow they had stayed in the boat, but unbeknownst to them, their oarsman was missing. They heard him say something along the lines of "your oarsman is NOT in the boat". They looked behind in surprise as he clawed his way back onto the raft just in time to get hung up on a boulder. Our raft was closest, so Pete rowed back into the eddy, and we started to climb up the rocks to see if we could assist, but they managed to back off the rock, and we were able to continue on.

Looking up the canyon, we could see that the monsoon storms were not finished. The towering cumulus clouds were wreaking havoc upstream, but the day remained sunny and clear for us. Tonight I would be sleeping under the stars.

We passed another stunning example of mass wasting just before hitting the Roaring Twenties. Boulder Narrows is a huge single chunk of Esplanade Sandstone that practically dams the river (below). According to the river guide, it is the single largest boulder to be found in the river through the Grand Canyon.

The canyon became deeper and more vertical.

At lunch, I was able to concentrate on smaller things, like the wonderfully colored and patterned river boulders.

The Supai Group is one of the thickest units in the Grand Canyon sequence at more than a thousand feet, so it was with us for quite a few miles. I had not been this close to the redbeds in a long time, and the ledges and cliffs made for a scenic stretch along the river. The combination of scenery, geology and rapids made for a memorable day.

There was an otherworldly appearance to the cliffs that rose above us, straight out of the river.

At mile 23, a new layer appeared, hard ledges of gray limestone. We had reached the Mississippian-aged Redwall Limestone. There wasn't a bit of red in it, at first, but that would change before long. I'll save the detailed description for the next post, because today's exposures were just a preliminary tease.

The Redwall Limestone is a true cliff-forming rock, and in places the rock hung over the river.

After the excitement of eleven major rapids and a near miss in the flip department, Pete was a bit tired. We were past the rapids of the Roaring Twenties, so I took to the oars for a couple of miles. I'm not saying I'm a natural oarsman, but the several miles I rowed probably amounted to about a half mile of actual river. I had a devil of a time sticking with the current and staying out of the eddies. Plus, you can see I didn't put on my gloves, so I also got a blister (whine, whine). It was fun!

In the next post: the incredible Redwall Limestone of Marble Canyon.

Time Beyond Imagining - A Brief History of the Colorado Plateau: The Real Jurassic Parks

As we move forward in time, we reach the geologic period called the Jurassic, one of the few units of the geologic time scale that is familiar to many laypeople. We have Steven Speilberg and Michael Crichton to thank for that, and yes, dinosaurs rose to prominence in the terrestrial landscape, but lots more was going on as well, including a lot of interesting non-dinosaurs, including our own small furry predecessors creeping about in the underbrush (the mammals first appeared in the late Triassic, about the same time as the first dinosaurs).

So what are the real Jurassic Parks? In the movies, the park was an island populated by reconstituted dinosaurs that ate people and each other. The Jurassic Parks of the Colorado Plateau are the ones in which the most dramatic scenery is provided by Jurassic-aged rocks, which include the Wingate, Kayenta, Navajo, Carmel, Entrada, Summerville, and Morrison formations. The parks include the familiar Zion, Arches, Capitol Reef, and Canyonlands national parks, and the less familiar Grand Staircase-Escalante, Navajo, Rainbow Bridge, Vermilion Cliffs, and Colorado national monuments. Notable state parks include Kodachrome, Goblin Valley and Dead Horse Point, all in Utah. Many of the dramatic cliffs included within the Glen Canyon National Recreation Area are also made of Jurassic rocks. And let us not forget the actual Dinosaur National Monument, the one that actually has dinosaurs (although at last report, they did not eat park visitors).

Today's photos include a parting shot of the Chinle Formation at Petrified Forest National Park, simply because I came across it in a lost file and liked it, and a picture from near the head of the Schafer Trail in Canyonlands National Park, which is cutting across ledges of the Kayenta Formation as it prepares to plunge down the Wingate cliffs to the White Rim, discussed in a previous post.

The Schafer Trail leads to the White Rim Trail, which winds for a hundred miles or so through the heart of Canyonlands National Park. It is one of the life-list goals that I haven't accomplished yet. It pretty much requires at least two days to travel, and three or four days by bike. The Schafer Trail was originally carved by cattlemen and improved by uranium miners (they worked pretty hard...).

So, why the dramatic colorful cliffs? Something important had changed, causing the Triassic floodplains to disappear. The silts and clays and river channels were replaced by desert dune sands, which quite often form prominent cliffs when hardened into solid rock. The deserts formed because Pangea had begun to break apart, and North America was now moving northwest, into the subtropics where the prevailing air circulation results in dry conditions. We see a similar situation in the Middle East and Sahara Deserts today.

Time Beyond Imagining - A Brief History of the Colorado Plateau: A Final Transgression

With today's post we reach the rim of the Grand Canyon, and the end of the Paleozoic rocks of the Colorado Plateau. But these pictures are not of the Grand Canyon, although some similarities exist. Both canyons were carved by the Colorado River, for instance. We are in southeastern Utah at Canyonlands National Park. Our vantage point is the Island in the Sky plateau that overlooks the confluence of the Green and Colorado Rivers. Unlike the Grand Canyon, the oldest rocks visible are Permian in age, and the upper canyon walls are in Mesozoic rocks (the age of the dinosaurs, basically).

Hikers in the Grand Canyon who have a geological background don't measure their progress in miles and feet the way normal people do. We note our location by the strata through which we are strolling. The base of the Supai Group means a long slog through red dirt. The base of the Redwall almost always means a tough climb is ahead. The greatest relief to geological hikers is to arrive at the top of the Coconino Sandstone, where we realize that only two more formations lie between us and a cold beer or iced tea: the Toroweap Formation and the Kaibab Formation. Both are easily visible in yesterday's post, the Toroweap as the forested slope above the sheer Coconino cliff, and the Kaibab as the ledgy cream-colored cliff forming the rim of the canyon. Like the Coconino, both formations are Permian in age, the very latest part of the Paleozoic Era.

The Toroweap Formation is rather variable in composition, ranging from dune sands, evaporites (forming in drying bodies of water), and limestone. It formed in a time of changing sea level, where the shoreline transgressed and regressed repeatedly, forming dune fields, tidal flats and sabkhas (coastal salt flats). Fossils are generally rare, given the harsh conditions in which the rocks formed.

The Kaibab Formation is more marine in origin, being composed of limestone, dolomite, and sand. In many places chert nodules can be found. The chert is a form of altered quartz that can develop long after deposition. The layer is rich with fossils: crinoids, brachiopods, sponges, bryozoans, shark teeth, nautiloids, fish, and some of the last trilobites to inhabit the earth (the Kaibab Formation on the North Rim of the Grand Canyon was the site of my first childhood fossil discoveries). Many of these species were doomed: the end of the Permian was marked by the worst mass extinction event ever recorded. Something like 95% of all the species on the planet disappeared, for reasons that have not yet been determined, although many hypotheses are proposed.

So why the pictures of Canyonlands National Park? Note the white rock layer sandwiched between thick layers of red rock. This layer is appropriately called the White Rim Sandstone (the White Rim is a very prominent terrace in Canyonlands), and being Permian in age, is related to the Coconino, Toroweap and Kaibab formations. The sea that formed the Kaibab and other late Permian marine layers transgressed from the west onto the continent. This is indicated in part by greater thicknesses to the west. On the other hand, the farther east and north that one travels, these layers become thinner. And thinner. By the time we reach Canyonlands National Park, the marine sands are only a few feet thick and then pinch out. We are looking in these photographs at the last beach of the last Paleozoic sea.

We have reached the rim of the Grand Canyon, and the end of the Paleozoic story. The reconstruction of the supercontinent Pangea was complete. World ecosystems had been devastated by extinctions almost beyond imagining. The world had changed completely, and the Mesozoic age had begun. Dramatic changes are coming! In another post, though....