Write About a Tree and it Falls Over: How it was in Yosemite today....

On our last trip to Yosemite in October, we had a delightful time witnessing the contrast between the vivid fall colors and a fresh new coating of snow. I also spent some time photographing a group of acorn woodpeckers working in their tree, an old dead ponderosa at the edge of Cook's Meadow (see the post by clicking here). The tree has been in this spot for a century or more, though it looked pretty unstable when we were last there. I should have known that writing about it would probably in the cosmic picture of things doom it. Here's how the tree looked today; I hope the woodpeckers are okay.

Meanwhile, winter is sort of wrapping up, with some snow in the high country this week, and clouds that were building up as we wandered about the valley. The falls were running nicely, but there was barely a speck of green anywhere (although the foothills are beginning to show a lot of color, especially poppies and fiddlenecks).

Half Dome was a no-show from the Tunnel View, but Bridalveil Falls looked nice, and had a huge pile of frazil ice at the base. Frazil forms when spray from the waterfall freezes and drifts down to the base of the falls.

 Yosemite Falls was also full of water and ice, and the wind was forming nice patterns of mist and shadow on the cliff face.
 In the later afternoon the rain clouds opened up, so we knew it was time to head on down the hill. As we were leaving, we could see the ghostly presence of the Cathedral Spires on the south rim of the valley. Winter isn't quite done with the Sierra Nevada...

And that's the way it was today.

From Little Treasures Come Big Stories: Travels Through Death Valley National Park

Photo by Mrs. Geotripper

I returned from Death Valley to a load of work back on campus, but over the next few days I'll be posting on some of our adventures. On Saturday morning, we awoke to sunrise on the Mesquite Dunes east of Stovepipe Wells. We grabbed our packs and notebooks and hit the road. We had a lot of ground to cover.

Oddly enough, for having spent two days getting to Death Valley National Park, one of our first stops was outside of Death Valley National Park. This was for the simple reason that we were looking to understand the nature of the rocks that make up the mountain ranges surrounding Death Valley. Because we didn't have enough time to climb most of the mountains, we would need to see what had rolled out of the mountains during the many flash floods and mudflows that had scoured their flanks over the countless centuries. I have honest students, but their conscience would have had a tough time dealing with all the little treasures they were about to find. So we made sure we were outside the park boundaries when we let them out onto the alluvial fans coming down from the Funeral Mountains. For many of my students it was their first experience in finding a fossil.

Fossil crinoid stems. These are rare in oceans today (they are known as sea lilies), but during the Paleozoic era, they covered the sea floor like fields of wheat, and entire rock layers are composed of their fragments.

To most normal people, 300-400 million years of nearly continuous mud deposition is perhaps not the most exciting process to consider. But if that 300-400 million years covers the latest Proterozoic eon and the all of the Paleozoic era, such activity is irresistible to a paleontologist. A rock sequence that covers that time period contains the evidence of the rise of multicelled life on Earth, as well as the first appearance of all of the extant phyla known (plus a few extinct ones). A phylum, as a biologist will tell you, is one of the broader divisions into which all life can be organized. One phyla, the chordates, contains all the familiar animals with a notochord or backbone (fish, amphibians, reptiles, birds, and mammals). There are dozens of others, including the arthropods (bugs and crustaceans) and the molluscs (snails, clams and squids) which make up most of the species known today. A more or less continuous record of deposition makes it possible to detect patterns and trends in the evolution of life on the planet through time.

Grand Canyon National Park has a similar range of rocks exposed in the depths of the gorge, but huge pieces of the story are missing because of episodes of erosion. Where the Grand Canyon has about 4,000 feet of Paleozoic sediments, Death Valley has more like 20,000 feet! How can 20,000 feet of sediment fit into a mountain range that rises no more than 5,000-6,000 feet above Death Valley and other grabens in the region? If you look at the photo of the Funeral Mountains below, the answer is apparent: the sediments in the mountain range have been tilted. To walk through 400 million years of Earth history, we need only to walk a few miles along the base of the mountains.

How is it that sediments could accumulate for such a long time in such stable conditions? Most parts of the crust of the Earth are wracked by extreme tectonic activity like volcanism, folding, and faulting. The Paleozoic rocks of Death Valley accumulated in one of the most geologically "gentle" environments on the planet: a passive continental margin. A billion or so years ago, most of the world's continents were combined in a supercontinent we now call Rodinia. The continent began to break up at the end of the Proterozoic, which is a process that involves severe faulting and rifting, along with vigorous volcanic activity, but as the continents moved further and further apart, the processes became less active and finally stopped. The edges of the continents became a site of more or less continuous shallow marine deposition, and as more sediments were laid down, the crust slowly sank beneath the weight, allowing even more sediments to accumulate.

So, from a bit of wandering across a stony desert surface picking up random fossils, a story is told of massive supercontinents breaking apart and forming huge wedges of sedimentary rock that tell the story of 400 million years of evolution of life on planet Earth. In short, this is why I love teaching geology.

Memorial Service for Lauren Wright, Death Valley Geologist

Jim Calzia, Geologist Emeritus, USGS, has asked me to pass on this announcement about a memorial service for Lauren Wright, long time explorer of Death Valley geology, who passed away in February: 

MEMORIAL SERVICE

Lauren Albert Wright

March 23, 2013; Shoshone, CA

Picture by Marli Miller

            Lauren A. Wright, 94, of State College, PA, passed away Feb 6, 2013. Professor Wright received his BS and MS in Geology from the University of Southern California, and a PhD from Cal Tech in 1952. He was first employed by the California Division of Mines (now CA Geological Survey) from 1947 to 1961, then accepted the position of Chairman, Dept of Geology and Geophysics, at Penn State University; he retired from Penn State in 1985 after teaching geology for 24 years. In his lifetime, Prof Wright became an internationally-recognized expert on the geology of Death Valley, CA. He is survived by his son Anthony.

You are cordially invited to a Memorial Service for Lauren Wright on March 23, 2013, in Shoshone, CA. The Service will be preceded by a short field trip to see a few of the geologic problems Prof Wright studied during his lifetime. The field trip is scheduled from 10-2PM; the Memorial Service begins at 3PM and is followed by a reception. In addition, Cynthia Keinitz will host an informal campfire service at China Ranch from 8PM.  Please RSVP to Susan Sorrells at villagecentral "at" shoshonevillage.com or (760) 852-4224 for recommendations regarding lodging.

Science on Screen Series at the State Theatre: Robot and Frank on March 10

For my Modesto region readers, I would like to encourage you to consider an interesting movie-going experience, our Science on Screen Series. The State Theatre is a nicely renovated 1930s era movie house. Three more films remain in the series, over the next four months.  I'll be hosting the film Jurassic Park in May! Read on for information about next Sunday's movie:  

Science On Screen presents

Robot & Frank

Sun. March 10 at 3 p.m.

(PG-13) 1 Hr. 29 Min. In English

Science On Screen, a pioneering program pairing Hollywood films with presentations by notable experts from the world of science, technology, mathematics and medicine, was made possible through a grant from the Alfred P. Sloan Foundation. Robot and Frank, and the accompanying presentation by Doctor Kevin Gucwa, is the second in a four-program series being presented by The State from January through May, 2013.
 
Film: Robot & Frank starring Frank Langella and Susan Sarandon, Robot & Frank is an offbeat buddy movie about an elderly ex-jewel thief and his new caretaker robot.
 
Speaker: Kevin Gucwa, Ph.D. -- Turning Fictional Robotics Into Reality
Doctor Gucwa is Director Assistant at the UC Davis C-STEM Center, a program designed to improve computing, science, technology, engineering and mathematics education in K-14 education. He is also pursuing a Ph.D. in Mechanical Engineering with a focus on robotics.
 
Community Partners: Program co-sponsor Doctors Medical Center will display and demonstrate its da Vinci surgical robot, and the Beyer High School Engineering and Robotics Pathway students will be on hand with their own student-designed, award-winning robots http://beyerrobotics.com. Attendees will have a chance to enter a raffle for mini bots, tiny robots made from the heads of toothbrushe

Doors at 2 p.m.; presentation and film 3 p.m.
(Q&A following the film)

For online ticket sales got to www.thestate.org. To purchase your tickets by phone, call the State Box Office at 209-527-4697 from noon to 3 p.m., Monday through Friday. If still available tickets may also be purchased the night of the event up to the start of the presentation. The State Theatre is at 1307 J Street in downtown Modesto.

What Was The Greatest Moment of Your Life?

In my imagination, I could see someone, doing a job that he obviously hates, working as a (fill in hated occupation here; I don't want to insult anyone's choices), talking about the greatest moment of his life. It was senior year of high school, and his football team was down by 4 with seconds left on the clock. The regional championship was on the line. He was headed down the sidelines when the quarterback's throw slipped and bobbled through the hands of the defender, and somehow he caught the ball, stayed in bounds, and made it into the end zone, saving the day. He would remember that day forever, the greatest moment of his life.

And then what? Sports competition is great, and for some it is even fun, but for most it ends when high school does. Some go on in college, but it isn't all that often that sports competition leads to a satisfying career.

I was watching and participating in a different kind of competition today. It was a bit less noisy (except for the awards ceremony), but there was every bit as much intensity and emotion as any football game. And winners and losers alike could look forward to continuing doing what they love for the rest of their lives. There is no glowing moment of victory followed by a lifetime of wistful memories. These kids could go on to bigger and better discoveries throughout their careers. Lives full of possibilities.

The Science Olympiad is a competition for middle-schoolers and high-schoolers that challenges students in physics, chemistry, engineering, geology, and biology. It's the kind of competition that brings out the creativity and intuition in a kid. I've been judging events for our local olympiad for 24 years now, and I never get tired of seeing the excitement and intensity with these young adults. I know for a fact that many of them continue on to careers in science, because quite a few of them show up in my geology classes a few years later, and they talk about how the olympiad (and other science competitions) inspired them.

If you are a science educator, and your district or region doesn't have an olympiad, organize one! If they do and your school doesn't compete, organize a team. You can always start small. It will mean a lot to your students.

I was a bit hard on sports there at the beginning, and frankly, one of the greatest moments of my life did in fact involve a winning moment in track and field back in high school. And one of the finest earth science educators I know is also a coach, and as such is an inspiration to his students in kinesthetic intelligence as well as all of the intelligences that are utilized in the sciences (intrapersonal, interpersonal, logical, mathematical, spatial and naturalist). But I can never regret the decisions in my life that led to a career in the sciences.

The Joy of Roadcuts: A Few Friday Mystery Photos

Photo by Mrs. Geotripper

Rocks are easy to find in California. In places like Death Valley and the Mojave Desert, and in the high peaks of the Sierra Nevada and White Mountains, the rock exposures are fresh and quite easily observed. One could get pretty spoiled out here in comparison to those who live in much of the eastern United States or lowland Europe. In more humid environments, practically the only rock exposures not covered by green overburden and soil are in deep river canyons, or in road cuts.

Photo by Mrs. Geotripper

In the Sierra Nevada foothills, there are lots of rock exposures of the Western Sierra Metamorphic Belt, but they tend to be deeply weathered and a lot fine details are not easy to see. Without the road cuts, a lot of interesting things would not be visible. Last weekend, I had a chance to go fossil hunting in the late Jurassic rocks of the Mariposa formation, and as I noted in a recent post, we found ammonites, pelecypods, belemnites, and even a sprig of redwood.

We also found some enigmatic stuff in the road cuts that kind of defied identification. The odd features are shown below, and I've downloaded them at full resolution so you can take a closer look (click on the photos)

The Mariposa formation in which these things occur is a marine deposit consisting of shale, tuff, graywacke sandstone and occasional conglomerates that formed in a deep basin adjacent to volcanic arcs and the western edge of the North American craton.

So what do you think?

Accretionary Wedge #55: Blood on the Rocks, and Bad Karma on the Plateau

This month's Accretionary Wedge is hosted by Maitri at her Vatulblog, and it concerns our injuries incurred in the field: "Show me your injuries! ... You don’t have to be a geologist to play; simply having been injured by a rock or while doing something geological is sufficient. I will put the entries together and post them here as well as at the AW site at the beginning of March. The winner (one with the most spectacular wound or story) gets their choice of two bandage tins from this website mailed to them."

Actually, in twenty-five years of leading field trips, I have been remarkably (some would say eerily) free of serious injuries. Of course, by simply saying this I am bringing on the threat of geo-karma, and I will no doubt get bit or fall down a steep slope on my next trip. On the other hand, I have taken somewhere around 1,500 students on multi-day field trips, and some of them have managed to inflict a bit of self damage. Luckily, only a few required a trip to the emergency room, including a split-open chin, and a hairline fracture of a wrist caused when someone caught their fingers in a van door and wrenched an arm trying to pull them out.

The chin involved stitches after a fall on some rhyolite boulders in the Mojave Desert. From my point of view, it was my discovery of the accident site that was intriguing. I was trailing behind the rest of the crew in a deep cleft in the rocks, and I noticed the blood on the rocks (see the picture above). I stopped, looked around, looked up. In my ignorance, I assumed an owl had made short work of some rodent that night and was a sloppy eater. I continued on down the trail until some of the students came back and let me know we needed to make a stop in the emergency room in Needles, California.

The most famous injury during my time at the college was not quite so serious, a turned ankle, but it set in motion events later that day that have since become legend in our department. It involved rattlesnakes, and a suicidal deer (I originally blogged this story in 2008).

The rattlesnakes were simply an omen for the day. I and my students had set out on a cross-country trek to look for Ancestral Pueblo cliff-dwellings in eastern Utah. I stopped a moment and heard under my feet that buzzing sound that field workers don't usually like to hear: a rattlesnake. Only it seemed like it was in stereo. I looked down and saw not one, and not two, but three rattlers between my legs. I should have known right then to cancel the day and just go home, as I jumped through the air in some random and probably poorly chosen direction. No bites, but a very high heart rate for awhile....

Meanwhile, a deer had decided to cross the highway near Blanding and Monticello. That was still four hours in the future, though.

One of my students (who shall remain nameless for the moment) walked into the wilds, lacking water, companions, and common sense. He wandered off the mesa, climbing down a 4oo foot cliff, and climbing onto the adjacent mesa. He hadn't heard anyone for several hours and finally realized he was lost, and was long overdue at the vans. He tripped and fell, wrenching his ankle badly. Back in the parking area, concern was growing and search parties were organized. Finally, two hours later, as we prepared to contact the local Search and Rescue, our lost student stumbled out of the pinyon forest, having heard the honking of horns. We were now two hours behind schedule. We set out on the highway, headed to Blanding and Mesa Verde. And a few minutes after that, a deer, hidden completely by a concrete embankment, chose that moment to cross the busy highway.

We should have passed the embankment along the highway two hours previously, but our student  had been lost. And so we were selected, involuntarily, to introduce the deer to the hereafter. And the front of our van would never again be the same. We were, in fact, alive only because of the expert emergency driving skills of our professional volunteer, who managed not to turn us headlong into the big truck in the opposite lane as the collision occurred.

That's geo-karma...

A final note:

This wedge entry and others like it are a light-hearted look at what turned out to be fairly minor injuries. Such injuries have a potential to become major injuries in the isolation of the field, and major injuries have the possibility of becoming life-ending situations. There is no getting around the necessity of being as safe as possible when conducting field work. I can think of no situation worse than having a student die while under my supervision.  Someone passed away during a recent conference (from a long-term medical condition) we sponsored in an isolated mountain location. The staff at the conference center and our volunteers acted professionally and quickly, but nothing could be done. It was tragic beyond words.

If you are responsible for the students or fellow researchers, hold them to the highest standards of safety, and always have first aid kits available, and the training to use them. Don't allow a moment of fun taking a bit of a chance turn into tragedy.