Wednesday, April 30, 2008

Under the Volcano: Changing the Emphasis -Part 8

Silver Strand Falls is another victim of people looking the wrong direction from a spectacular view point in Yosemite Valley. It is tucked high in the cliffs above the Wawona Tunnel View (Standing Underneath Volcanoes) on the south side of the valley. The falls are around 600 feet tall, and spill over a cliff of Taft granite, a fine- to coarse-grained white to gray biotite granite that is locally porphyritic with phenocrysts of potassium feldspar. The rock was intruded about 96 million years ago.

Looking through my files, I found only three pictures of the falls, and all were wintertime shots when the falls were frozen. I am also guilty of ignoring them!

Tuesday, April 29, 2008

Under the Volcano: Changing the Emphasis -Part 7

Yosemite Valley is especially stunning because of the striking number of waterfalls, some justly famous, and a number of others less so due to their ephemeral nature and sometimes just from being a semi-precious stone amongst precious jewels (a beautiful amethyst amongst sapphires, if I can make a bad analogy).

Todays relatively unknown waterfall is another that shows up for just a few months in the spring: Royal Arch Cascades. They are most noticiable through the trees behind the Ahwahnee Lodge on the north side of the valley floor. They form a long, sloping millrace down the cliff, dropping about 1,200 feet, before disappearing into the forest on the valley floor.

I actually find them to be sort of unremarkable from most angles, but it turns out that the base of the falls is very easy to access, and they reveal a beautiful mosiac pattern on the cliffs when viewed from that location. You merely need to follow the trail at the east end of the Ahwahnee Lodge parking lot for a few hundred yards, and then scramble up the talus slope for just a few yards.

The falls spill over a cliff of the Half Dome granodiorite which was intruded around 86 to 88 million years ago. In addition to the requisite feldspar, quartz and biotite, a careful search of the rock will reveal little yellowish crystals of sphene. The rock is relatively free of joints, and this leads to the formation of some interesting reverse exfoliation features at the Royal Arches themselves just to the east of the falls (probably a future post).

Nearly four million people visit Yosemite Valley every year. I doubt that more than a few dozen ever see Royal Arch Cascades from the base. Give it a look!

Monday, April 28, 2008

Under the Volcano: Changing the Emphasis -Part 6

I hope I am not driving the subject into the ground, but I love describing a trip through Yosemite as an exploration of a series of volcanoes from the underside looking up. The rocks, most granitic, formed as magma cooled very slowly over tens of thousands of years, leaving visible crystals that give the familiar speckled look of the rock.

Today's post, continuing the theme of the less recognized sights in Yosemite Valley and other parts of the Yosemite National Park, is a sight that is sometimes noticed by visitors in April and May, but never seen by the vast majority of summer tourists. It is dry most years by June. And yet it is the tallest unbroken waterfall in Yosemite Valley: Ribbon Fall. The more familiar Yosemite Falls include three segments, the tallest of which is the Upper Falls at 1,430 feet. Ribbon Fall leaps nearly 200 feet more: 1,612 feet. The fall lies just west of El Capitan, and the cliff it leaps from is composed of the same mostly unjointed El Capitan granite. It is most easily seen from the parking area on the main park road just east of Bridalveil Fall Parking Lot. No trails approach the fall, not from the bottom, and not from the top.

I photographed Ribbon Fall many times, and thought that it leaped from a sheer planar wall of rock, but in 2005, a low cloud layer brought a different perspective: it lies within a narrow alcove that is outlined by a series of vertical joints. The waterfall is barely visible in the left alcove in the picture below. The cliff on the far right is the west wall of El Capitan.

The fall was beautiful last week. Be sure to check it out if you are in Yosemite in the next few weeks!

Friday, April 25, 2008

Accretionary Wedge #8: There Will Be a Price to Pay


This month's Accretionary Wedge (Accretionary Wedge #8 ) is hosted by Andrew Alden at About Geology, and the entries involve our responses to Earth Day. Mine is a bit late in coming; I reward myself with a blog entry if I get my other work done, and this has been finals week. It's been a bit hectic!


I offer today a picture of my most sacred spot on the planet (so far): the edge of Cedar Mesa at Muley Point. The cliff below the rocks drops 800 feet straight down to a flat plain which is then carved by the San Juan River into intricate canyons some 1,200 feet deeper still. Monument Valley and the Raplee Anticline lie in the distance, as well as the towns of Cortez CO and Farmington NM. It is a precious place to me, full of mystery, beauty and solitude. Ghosts of the Ancestral Pueblo people lurk here, and the fossils of Permian reptiles as well.


But...hidden in the bottom of the deep canyon is the greatest upstream extent of the artifical evaporation pond of Lake Powell. On a 1964 topographic map of the National Recreational Area, there is a notation at Muley Point: "slated for development". In the distance, at Mexican Hat, oil wells pump the black liquid from the ground, and around Farmington, a GoogleEarth view reveals hundreds or thousands of gas wells. Coal is mined from Black Mesa, off to the south, and evaporite minerals are torn from the ground to the north of Canyonlands National Park. Power lines criss-cross the region. My favorite place is under siege.


Of course, we need all these things to live, but the point of my entry today is this: there is a price to be paid. The price takes many forms, from high prices on commodities, in foul air, polluted rivers, extinct plants and animals, and in the almost never recognized loss of the wild places of our planet, the gauntlet in which our ancestors survived and thrived. We have lost touch with the earth that gave us our birth, and which continues to nurture us, despite our abuse. And our abusive ways are about to come to an end, one way or another: we will finally destroy the last of the wild places, drill the last drops of oil and shovel the last lumps of coal, we will melt the last glaciers, and deplete the last soils. Or, we will choose not to do these things, and exist on our planet in a new way: a sustainable existence that finds a way to give something back to our planet.


The environmental movement on our planet has been demonized, trivialized, and marginalized, because, I suppose, it has always threatened the perceived profits of somebody. What have environmental groups tried to do since the hey-day of the 1970's and the first Earth Day? A short list might include:
  • Increase mileage standards and encourage the use of mass-transit
  • Encourage the development of alternative energy resources
  • Decrease emissions from our vehicles, including greenhouse gases and ozone destroying compounds
  • Encouraged laws to protect our water, air and soil
  • Protect the wild places that still remain on our planet
Environmentalists have been the visionaries and the prophets for our planet. They have seen the things we do today to abuse our planet, and offer an alternative path for the future, one based on sustainability. Such ideas run counter to the profit motive of particular industries, and thus environmentalists are attacked as elitists and flakes, while the money continues to flow into the coffers of the energy companies and the developers. But the bills for all of us are coming due...


The oil is running out, and thus the price spikes. We will never see cheap oil again. The mass conversion of agricultural fields to the growth of biofuels is causing grain prices to spike, and we are becoming less and less able to feed the hungriest people on the planet (Malthus is in the air; "Running Out of Planet to Exploit," ). The prices of metals are climbing.


Change is possible, and I sometimes see hopeful signs, and part of my optimism comes from Earth Day, and the works of good people to bring awareness to those who are waking up to the spectre of high prices and resource limits. We have a choice though...we can let the decisions about the future to be made by energy companies and their political lackeys, or we can demand a future based on sustainability. It will take education, and an end to the corporate media's obsession with Britney and Paris, and kidnapped white women, and American Flag Lapels. People, when given the right information, can make the right choices.


Those are my thoughts this week. You are welcome to comment!

Monday, April 21, 2008

Under the Volcano: Changing the Emphasis -Part 5

We continue our week's tour of the less famous parts of Yosemite Valley. The Lost Arrow is a fairly familiar sight if you know where to find it, tucked into the cliff just east of Yosemite Falls (see Under the Volcano: Changing the Emphasis -Part 4 ). It is tricky to get some sky behind the rock for pictures, but the clouds cooperated for me in April of 2006. The rock once again is Sentinel granodiorite, and the Lost Arrow is outlined by some prominent vertical joints. As can be seen, the spire is a popular technical climb.

I've not had the pleasure (I'm getting a bit too old and fat to even contemplate this kind of exercise), but if you are wondering what the view is like looking down, check out http://www.100megsfree.com/dew4theq/rock/yosemite/yosemite02.htm.

Saturday, April 19, 2008

Yosemite Falls: The Spectacle that Almost Wasn't

Look at Yosemite Falls from another angle: in this case I was perched atop Taft Point, which is reached by trail from the Glacier Point Road. Like a number of other geological mysteries over the years something bothered me, but never to the point that I solved it with insight and creativity. Other people had to do it for me, in this case N. King Huber. It had to do with the strange cleft of rock to the left of the falls. The trail to the top of the falls follows this declivity, but why is it there? And ask yourself: shouldn't Yosemite Creek be following that canyon? If it did, it would be no more remarkable than the practically unknown Lehamite Falls described in the previous post.

Huber passed away recently, after a long career with the USGS, and later as a populizer of geology for the Yosemite Association. His final book, Geological Ramblings in Yosemite (http://www.yosemitestore.com/Templates/frmTemplateP1.asp?SubFolderID=114&SearchYN=N&t=9&p=3) is a delightful collection of essays culled and adapted from articles he did for the Yosemite Association Magazine. In one of them, he explains the mystery. Yosemite Creek did follow the cleft! And probably for a very long time. But, during one of the last glaciations, a lateral moraine blocked the old waterway, and forced Yosemite Creek over the brink of the sheer cliff where it now flows. The old waterway seems more obvious in a picture where the falls are dry, such as the photo below, taken in October.

I appreciate the insight of geologists like Huber, and of the way they make the information accessible to the lay population.

Under the Volcano: Changing the Emphasis -Part 4

Continuing a series of exercises on observing the generally unobserved wonders of Yosemite Valley, I offer today TWO waterfalls whose combined heights exceed 1,000 feet. One is world-renowned and is an icon of the National Park Service. The other is in the picture above, is ignored by practically every park visitor, has been photographed by yours truly only twice, and is the only waterfall in the park to retain it's original Miwok name: Lehamite Falls. Admittedly, it lacks the drama of Yosemite Falls, but it is interesting to me because it recalls a quirk about the history of Yosemite Falls: were it not for a chance movement of the Pleistocene glacier of Yosemite Creek, the Yosemite Falls would be as obscure as Lehamite Falls. And they were for a very long time.

First, the falls themselves. They lie in the far right side of the first picture in the shadowed cleft. The second picture is a zoom. They fall over a series of steps of only a few hundred feet at a time. Like many other of the waterfalls of Yosemite Valley, they only flow for a few months out of the year. Still, they drop 1,180 feet, which anywhere else in the world would be considered significant.

The "quirk" in the history of Yosemite Falls lies in the next post, because I don't understand the quirk in Blogger that only allows the first of my posted pictures to be thumbnailed. Does anyone have advice about that? Next post in a few moments.....