Travels in Cascadia: Flattery Will Get You Nowhere, Except Really, Really Northwest

Is that a face in the crook of the tree?

The trail might well have been designed by gnomes, or maybe even menehune in the rainforest. The slats look uneven and hand-hewn but were sturdy, allowing us to avoid the numerous mud bogs in this, one of the wettest environments in the western United States. It was the trail to Cape Flattery on the Olympic Peninsula in the state of Washington.

We had spent several days driving to the Seattle area to meet up with the students and my fellow professor. We were setting out on our exploration of the geology and anthropology of British Columbia and northern Washington, a journey that would occupy the next two weeks. The first day took us from Seattle to the Olympic Peninsula where we would learn about the Makah people at Neah Bay. The tribal lands extend to the northwesternmost point of the lower 48 states. There has been a small bit of confusion about whether Cape Flattery is the westernmost point, but that honor goes to Cape Alava, five or six miles to the south and about 500 feet further west.

The cape once served as a fortification guarding the Strait of Juan de Fuca during World War II, but in the years since the area has been reclaimed by the forest. If you have walked this trail in the past, you may remember a very badly potholed road and parking area, but in the last few years, the access road was paved and is now a much gentler ride. Hiking the one-mile trail requires a $10/vehicle pass, available at the cultural center in Neah Bay.

According to at least one source, Cape Flattery was named by Captain James Cook in 1778, as he was "flattered" into thinking he had found the legendary Strait of Juan de Fuca, which he had, but didn't realize it. The small island off the coast (seen in the picture below) is called Tatoosh Island, named by Captain Meares in 1788 after meeting the Makah chief Tatooche at his summer encampment on the island. The island was selected for the construction of a lighthouse in 1849-50. The lighthouse was poorly constructed and was a miserable place to live, leading to tensions between some of the keepers. One story relates how the first principal keeper threw coffee into the face of an assistant. They decided to settle their differences with a gunfight. They fired at each other, each time missing, so they called it a draw and shook hands. Later, a third assistant admitted to removing the bullets from the shells in their guns.

The lighthouse was automated in 1977 and the island is under the jurisdiction of the Makah Nation. It is closed to visitation.

The geology of the cape is not apparent while hiking the trail. There is greenery and soil everywhere. The coastal cliffs reveal breccia and conglomerate that represent deposition in a marine basin near a rocky coast 42-44 million years ago. The source of the rocks was near Leech Creek on Vancouver Island across the Juan de Fuca Strait. The rocks were transported many miles by huge submarine landslides called turbidity currents.

The sea cliffs at the end of the trail are simply spectacular. There are a series of awesome sea caves, some of which are interconnected, accessible by kayaking (if you're nuts...). The trail ends in a group of wood platforms. Going any further down the sea cliffs is pretty dangerous.

The distinction of being the "northwesternmost" point is an artificial construct, but as long as we're going to point out such things, it might as well be as spectacular as possible, and Cape Flattery fits the bill nicely. I highly recommend this hike if you're ever in the area around Olympic National Park.

Information about this hike was gathered from several sources, including Carson and Babcock, Hiking Guide to Washington Geology, and Washington Division of Geology and Earth Resources Open-file Report 2003-5.

A Most Misunderstood Island: One of the Most Diverse Landscapes on Earth

Shall we start with a stereotypical Hawaiian beach?

One can certainly be forgiven for thinking that Hawai'i is a group of high-rise hotels next to a wide sandy beach. It isn't as if a string of television shows (Magnum, P.I. and Hawaii 5-0 for example) have spent decades putting that stereotype into our heads. And the majority of tourists never venture beyond the hotel row at Waikiki and Honolulu. A visit to some of the other islands can be a real revelation (and adventure). The Hawaiian Islands, and especially the Big Island, are one of the most diverse landscapes on planet Earth.

The view from Pu'u Huluhulu at Saddle Road summit

Not convinced? Here is a selection of pictures taken over just two days of reconnaissance on the Big Island. How about an African savanna? A lone Koa tree (I think, I'm still learning these!) overlooks the plains along the summit of Saddle Road, a highway that links the two sides of the island. There are even grazing cattle, sheep, pigs, and goats (which are doing terrible things to the natural ecosystems).

Perhaps an archaeological site in the wilds of the Sinai Desert? The great heiaus on the Big Island served a variety of purposes, including refuges, sacrificial sites, and temples. They date back hundreds of years. This one can be seen at Pu'ukohola Heiau National Historical Site on the dry side of the island in the rain shadow of the Kohala volcano. Rainfall averages less than 20 inches a year, compared to more than a hundred just a few miles away.

A recovering mesic coastal forest? Not a desert, not a rainforest, but somewhere in-between (mostly on the dry side) We are looking at the Lapakahi State Historical Park on the west slope of Kohala. The original forest was cut down for a number of reasons, but humans lived in this village for hundreds of years.

How about the high plains prairie? One of the largest privately owned ranches in the United States is found on the Big Island (the Parker Ranch). The cattle graze on rich grasslands that cover some of the older volcanoes. When they reach the right age, they fly in a 747 to the mainland. As a guide to Hawaii mentions, they probably enjoy more foot room than the average tourist in coach...

 As can be seen, some of the grasslands are windy.

Big Sur on the Big Island? Sure. This Big Island is not as famed for the coastal cliffs like those in Kaua'i and Molokai, but several tens of thousands of years ago, a large part of the northern coastline of the island collapsed into the sea. It probably produced a mega-tsunami in the local islands that had run-ups amounting to hundreds of feet in elevation.The Pololu Valley and coast is stunning.

The Pololu coast is also known for the gorgeous river valleys that extend into the Kohala volcano ("gorgeous"; Did you get it?). The canyons are hundreds of feet deep, and were once even deeper, but the islands are slowly sinking and the valleys fill with sediment.

I doubt that Sauron would have ever established Mordor in a place like this. These a'a lava flows from Mauna Loa are only a few decades old, and are practically impossible to traverse. Somehow a highway got built across part of it, and there is even a strange housing complex in the immediate vicinity. The few trees are the native Ohi'a, a tree that can grow from coastal environments to as high as 10,000 feet or so. I don't believe there is another tree on the planet that can do that.

And how about glacial environments? Yes, Hawai'i had glaciers during the Ice Ages! The top of Mauna Kea was mantled with flowing ice only a few thousand years ago. There are glacial moraines, and even a small lake that is the third highest in United States. Eruptions happening in the ice produced a glassy form of basalt that was much harder than normal, so the native Hawaiians would climb to the summit of the mountain to gather the rock for tool-making.

And finally, yes, there are rainforests! Beautiful green forests filled with rare and endemic plants found nowhere else on the planet. Don't tell anyone about this, but I see scenes like this and think of the Jungle Cruise at Disneyland! But these forests are real.

There are even more ecosystems and biomes on the island that we just didn't happen to see on our short excursions. Expect to see some more as the week progresses. We've got two more weeks on the islands, and lots of exploring to do!

Geotripper Hallucinates in the Rainforest: Where are the rocks?

Archaeologists and geologists have it kind of tough in the rainforests. The people who lived here in past millennia utilized wood and bone most of the time in the making of their tools and habitations, and neither of those materials lasts for long in the wet acidic soils of a rainforest. Archaeologists don't have a lot of raw materials to work with. Likewise for the geologist, moisture and acid attack most rocks, turning them to clay in short order. The clay and soil coat the slopes, and the luxuriant plant growth hides almost all useful rock exposures. Actively eroding stream valleys and roadcuts are sometimes the only raw information a geologist has for mapping, and a lot of extrapolation must take place. No wonder I am more of a desert rat. I'm fundamentally lazy!

So I found myself hallucinating if you will during my travels in the past week through the rainforests of Northern California, Oregon, Washington, and British Columbia. And no, I avoided the mushrooms! I started seeing rocks in the forest, but most people call this stuff wood. For instance, the natural arch above, in the Hoh Rainforest of Olympic National Park.

And this "limestone" cavern along the same trail? It had multiple passages and was big enough to crawl through, after all. It's gotta be a cave.

Rivers erode rock, right? So how about this ridge across Bull Creek in Humboldt Redwoods State Park in the above photo? Upturned metamorphic rock, surely? It was softer than most rocks for some reason.

And isn't this a fold in metamorphic rock, along the Hoh Rainforest Hall of Mosses Trail? Surely this stuff isn't all wood?

At the end of my musings, I realized I was acting just a bit like a kid again. This kind of place would have been endlessly fascinating to me as a child. I know this because once in a great while, the child re-emerges and imagines all kinds of strange things. Crawling under tree trunks isn't quite as easy as it once was, though.

I'll get back to some real geology before long! There are actually rocks to be seen out here, and some of them are truly spectacular. Mrs. Geotripper and I have been having a great time doing something we haven't done in a number of years, just vagabonding from one place to another without a plan, other than a vague goal of seeing some parts of British Columbia that we missed on our field trip last year because of bad weather. I'm happy to say we've been mostly successful.

Cyclone Yasi about to hit Queensland

For in-depth info on Cyclone Yasi, which is about to hit Queensland, please check out Geology in Motion and the usual news sources. It's going to be a horrific affair, and my heart goes out to those in the path, especially since it's been only a few weeks since the record-breaking flooding in the general region. This is a huge storm coming in, a category 5 cyclone ("hurricanes" in the northern hemisphere). It's one thing to hear about such extraordinary events hitting some place far away, but it's another if you've seen the place, and if you have relatives near by. I visited Cairns and Port Douglas a few years ago, and had a wonderful time, and met some wonderful people. They are in my prayers...
Australia is generally seen as a dry continent, with vast desert vistas, but the northeast coast extends into the tropics and includes some unique and extraordinary rainforests. We took a railway to Kuranda (admittedly a tourist magnet, but a nice place to visit), and passed the mostly dry Barron River Falls (large hydroelectric dams upstream). The barren rock suggest the falls must be spectacular when full.

The other spectacular locality was the extraordinary Great Barrier Reef, which will no doubt suffer some serious damage as the storm surge rushes towards shore. They do the tours quite well, and we were able to snorkel and take a mini-sub tour of the reefs themselves. I count the experience as one of the pivotal events of my geologic life. It was like going back in time to the vast reefs of Paleozoic time that once covered large areas of the American west. It's one thing to see the quiet echo of fossilized life in the rocks and another to see the reefs full of life in the present day.

I wish and pray for the best for the people of the Queensland Coast. Earthquakes may be terrifying because they are so unexpected, but it may be worse knowing what is out there, and having to just wait. There's only so much one can do to prepare for such unprecedented events.