Woot! Photo Shout-Out From NASA!

A photo I took on our recent Volcanic Ramble has received a complimentary treatment from Robert Simmon, along with a structural interpretation by Callan Bentley (@callanbentley ) And to make sure all involved parties get appropriate credit, that's Dana Hunter's hammer (currently on sabbatical with Bif and me), held by none other than the lovely @Dhunterauthor herself. Boo-Yah! Teamwork!

BTW, I've been repeatedly distracted from my efforts on Salt Creek Falls this afternoon, but I'm hoping to have that up before I go home.

Volcanic Ramblings Part 2: A Dedication

I'd like to start off the more methodical portion of this "Volcanic Ramblings" series with a heart-felt dedication to Harold "Sharkey" Enlows, who first showed me many of the stops we made on this trip on the 1984 Petrology series spring excursion. Enlows could be curt and abrasive, but in his way, he was a very caring Teacher. He wasn't affectionate, but he simply wouldn't accept less than what he believed a student was capable of. His nickname arose not from fear, but from the respect and fondness his students felt toward him.

One example: I was not the most responsible student in the history of studenting (I've always said, "I'm an excellent learner, but I'm a terrible student."), and frequently missed early morning classes. The petrology/petrography series lectures fell into that category. So when the test for metapet rolled around, and I was confronted, on the first page, with the question, "Describe the mono-mineralogical problem with respect to metamorphic rocks," I mentally shrugged and skipped it. Sharkey typically sat in his office and did other paperwork while classes took tests, and when we finished, we took our tests to him and dropped them off. He glanced up when I dropped mine off. I turned to go, but he brought me to a sharp stop with "Hold it, DeWitt!" I knew that tone. I turned, and he had his finger on the hole where an answer should have been. I muttered, "I think I must have missed that day," to which he responded, "You did. But you can figure this out. Take this (he shoved the paper back at me) and go sit down until you do."

I had it sussed even before I got back to my seat. If you have only one mineral phase in a nice clean metamorphic rock- like a quartzite or marble- it's nearly impossible to say anything quantitative about the T & P history it's been through. Metapet depends on finding how differing elemental components have been partitioned into differing mineral phases; only one phase, no partitioning. So within a couple minutes I was back in his office, waiting, embarrassed, while he made a great show of reading my answer, then flipping through the rest of the pages to make sure there were no other blanks. He rolled his eyes at me and said, "Good. You're sharp. Don't let lazy get in the way."

Word.

When I graduated, some years later, I made a point to visit most of my profs to explicitly thank them for the effort they'd put into my education. I do believe most of them were close to teary-eyed (I know I was); too few students make that small effort of their own. But I didn't make that happy trip to Sharkey's office. Why? Because unbeknownst to us undergrads, he had been diagnosed with and in treatment for cancer for the entire year we'd had him as a teacher. In summer of 1984, just a month or so after we finished his class, and less than two after he took us on what remains to this day one of the best field trips of my life, the disease took him. One of my biggest regrets is that I never had a chance to express my respect, thanks, and admiration to his face. He wasn't my "favorite" prof, but he's the one who made me work the hardest, and from whom I learned the most.

And that's no small compliment.

So for each of the stops we made on our Volcanic Ramblings that I saw first under Sharkey's tutelage, I'll just skip over the long-winded intro, but preface the post with a dignified "In Memoriam: Harold "Sharkey" Enlows." It feels like the least I owe him.

I was going to write up our first official stop, Salt Creek Falls, but it occurs to me I've forgotten to eat today, and I need to blow my nose and dry my eyes. Dana will have Salt Creek Falls covered for you in the near future. Here's a spur-of-the-moment photo I took when we stopped for gas out near I-5, on our way out of town, looking back over Corvallis to the iconic profile of Marys Peak.

Marys Peak, Oregon: a fore-arc uplift of seafloor basalt overprinted with oceanic plateau basalt, topped with a frosting of deep-water turbidites, then intruded and capped with a gabbroic sill.

Accretionary Wedge #37: Sexy Geology

Accretionary Wedge #37: Sexy Geology

This month's topic engaged the geoblogosphere's lascivious side, and boy, oh boy did you folks turn out for this late-summer shindig and swinger's party! As always when I host, it's a real pleasure to read through the posts when I first see them, then frustrating as I try to decide how to organize and present them in a way readers will enjoy as much as I did. Of course, when I asked myself what aspects of the earth geologists found sexy, the answer was obvious. What geologists think is sexy is exactly the same sorts of things everyone does: Lines and Forms, Bones and Structures, Tones and Colors, Vivaciousness, and Chemistry.

Lines and Forms

The first thing that often catches our attention when recognizing a natural beauty is a certain perfection of line and form.

Tannis, who likes rocks, finds herself particularly flustered in the face of ripples. "There's just something about being up on a ridge, far away from any water and even farther away from a beach, and seeing ripples."

Silver Fox swoons over the luscious curves of cross bedding in the Navajo Sandstone. She's not the only one: I've seen quite a few posts on this sexy sand over the last few weeks.

Fellow traveler Dana Hunter's post wasn't easy to pigeon-hole: she ran the gamut in Earth Erotica. "My non-geo friends don't get dry mouths and pounding hearts when passing road cuts. Sometimes, I think they're blind to beauty. Unclothed rocks are some of the most beautiful sights on earth."

Dave Bressan breaks into a sweat thinking about beaches past and present, and reminds us of the great truth that geologists are the coolest and sexiest men (and women) alive.

And for our final entrant in this category, Anne Jefferson at Highly Allochthonous shows off some seductive pahoehoe curves during a visit to the Galapagos Island earlier this summer. She also shares some sexy sand, and ends with a provocative shot of an utterly nude sunbather.

Bones and Structures

Underlying line and form, though, is structural perfection. Largely hidden from the untrained eye, practice allows us to see clues and hints to understanding the underlying bones.

Matt at Research at a Snail's Pace first shows us the beauty of Glacier National Park, then uses a pair of sketches to get a sense of the subsurface structures responsible for it.

Ian Stimpson of Hypo-theses was the first to respond to the call for posts, but apparently misunderstood the topic. He thought I was demanding, like a drunken reveler, "Show us your cleavage!"

Count on Jessica Ball of Magma Cum Laude to get us all hot and bothered with shots of a recent fissure eruption in Hawaii. No comment on what resemblance I first saw in the picture below.

Anne of Anne's Musings on Geology and Other Things gets bent out of shape by Big Bend National Park: "To me this place seems to have it all, and that is why I muse upon Big Bend being such a geologically sexy place to visit" .

And our concluding post in this category, from first-time AW participant Un Geologo En Apuros, reminds me I need to carry a spatula with me sometimes, to scrape my eyeballs off the inside of my glasses. I'm not going to copy either photo here; you really need to go see them yourselves, and you most definitely want to click them for glorious full-size. To the author: don't worry about your poor English; my Spanish is much worse, and this is sexy geology that transcends any language barriers.

Tones and Colors

For many, including myself, line, form and structure are all very nice, but what really rivets our attention is the perfect tone, a lovely exotic glow, and a mesmerizing play of color.

Darius Whiteplume is a friendly innertubz denizen I've been following for a while on various blogs and tumblrs, and more recently on Twitter. He sent this to me via the latter yesterday, and I thought it appropriate to "mistake" it for an AW submission.

Selim sends word of the lovely White Desert in his home country of Egypt. It has to be tough in that country right now, but knowing there are sites (and sights) like this gives me hope they can work through their troubles.

Ron Schott posts a magnificent mineralogical mystery: it ain't lithium, it's manganese! (Oh yes, and a groaner of a pun, which, as he says, works better if you read it aloud. Just not too loud.)

My own entry is the beautiful warm glow of the Pinnacles at Crater Lake National Park. As an aside, I had intended as I started that post to get at some of the science of that spot. However, as I surveyed the debris from the landslide of innuendo and double-entendre in that post, I decided to let the science stand at a dignified distance. I'll get back to it later.

Vivaciousness

When humans convey a sense of brimming with life, we call them vivacious. When rocks convey a sense of being full of life, we call them fossiliferous. In either case, though, it's very, very sexy.

Jazinator's excitement is palpable as he recounts his first field rendezvous with Paleodictyon.

Geosciblog focuses on Echinodermata erotica, and fossil fetishists (one of which he claims he isn't) around the world are paralyzed.

Matt at Geosphere gets needled by Cnidaria... the corals, in particular.

And Callan at Mountain Beltway suggested I just link the post I used as an outstanding exemplar of Sexy Geology in the original call for posts: fossils and structures in the vicinity of Swift Dam.

Chemistry

In the end though, each person's answer to the question "What is Sexy?" is going to involve countless imponderables, a lot of je ne c'est pas, and shoulder-shrugging responses, "I dunno. I just do." In other words, the stuff we call chemistry.

Geotripper has some seriously weird rocks that likely are not unique, but I've never heard of or seen their like before.Another first-time participant, Narnian Rockhound at Earth-Like Planet, posts on a world-class mineral area, the Bancroft district in Ontario, Canada. Having visited a number of sites in the area myself, I whole-heartedly concur with this sexy nomination.

Finally, Metageologist weighs in with a dark and sultry mafic mystery: a "syntectonic gabbro."

So there you have it: The geoblogosphere's nominations for sexy geology. It occurs to me that this should have been Wedge number 34. If you're not familiar with the pop-culture rule 34, it is this: "If it exists, there is porn of it." While none of the above constitutes "porn," really, there's no doubt plenty of fodder for some very sweet dreams. Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did, and thanks to all who particpated. If I've somehow managed to miss your submission, leave a comment and link. I'm also happy to add in late submissions, so if you've been meaning to get to this but haven't, you still have a little time.

Next month's AW will be hosted by Anne Jefferson, on the theme "Back to School." See you then!

Know The Difference

Bif Naked

Bif, furry. Yes it's subtle, but I'm fond of both of them, so I'm obligated to know the differences. Don't know Bif Naked? Your loss.

What is Sexy? Geology.

This month's Accretionary Wedge topic is Sexy Geology; the deadline is tomorrow, Friday August 26, but as usual I'll add in anything I get before I post this edition, and tack on late entries for a week or two afterward. Also, Twitter has been giving me its "Sorry! We did something wrong. Try sending your Tweet again in a minute." BS since yesterday morning, which line I've now seen probably 40 or 50 times. I'd really appreciate it if a geotweep or two would tweet a link to this post.

In February of 1981, I started a student job at OSU's college of veterinary medicine, as a "glassware technician." That is, I washed the horrifically dirty dishes that are part and parcel of any medical work. Only a few months later, I was approached by the head technician in Clinical Pathology, Suzy, and was asked if I would like to work in her lab. Absidefinitely, I didn't say, but absidefinitely thought. Enough with the stinky stuff, already.

I quite liked my job upgrade, and was very fond of Suzy and her husband Gene. So I was disappointed when, in the summer of 1983, they were offered jobs at the trauma center in Lone Pine, California. I traveled with them to watch their two boys, John and Brian, while they interviewed, went house-hunting, and did the various sundry tasks associated with moving to a new town in a new state. It was my first visit to that area, and though I didn't have a lot of time for sight-seeing, what with one youngster in hand and in tow, and another mostly conked out and drooling on my shoulder, one thing you should know about Lone Pine is that pretty much any random glance that isn't directly groundward rewards with scenery that is completely bind-moggling.

So shortly afterward, Suzy and Gene moved away; I was less than happy with my new boss, who was a conservative (expletive deleted), a male chauvinist pig (to put it mildly), and while he may have been medically competent to do his job, struck me as mentally inferior to most fenceposts I've met. It was nearly a year before I found another job, but when I did, it was more appropriate to my interests, and most importantly, came with a boss and crew I could respect.

But I digress.

For spring break of 1984, Suzy and Gene invited me down to Lone Pine, sort of as a reward for helping with the munchkins the previous summer. I readily accepted, and hopped a Greyhound south. All sorts of great adventures on that trip, but the pertinent one was the day we went over to Death Valley.

A young geologist never forgets his first time.

Coming down off the Panamints, one can see the rugged geology of those mountains, but the wider view of the valley floor is mostly obscured until rounding a corner a little ways above Stovepipe Wells. Suzy was sitting in the front seat looking back at me the moment we went around that corner. As she recounted later, between gales of laughter, I leaned forward, my eyes went wide, and my jaw slowly dropped. I gasped, "Oh. My God. Look at all the naked rocks."

So all that is just lead-in to make this point: I've been a sucker for sexy geology for a long, long time, and age has done nothing to blunt that lust. On the contrary, I find THOSE urges stronger and more difficult to control than ever. I'm more practiced, less frantic, now, and more inclined toward gently and slowly working my way through a site instead of feeling like I have to bang on everything RIGHT NOW. But there is still nothing like figuring out what an outcrop wants from me, and wants to give me, to make my heart go pitter-pat, and to make me sigh blissfully in the afterglow.

So picking one example of sexy geology is something of a conundrum. Do I go for scantily-clad rocks, or the complex, deep ones? Shall I pick based on the perfection of color and complexion, or the vividness of the the story she wants to tell me? Do I want the vixen of volcanic heat or the chilly snows of deep, dark sedimentation? The tortured tales of difficult childhood and dignified recovery from a metamorphic mistress?

So hard. To choose just one, that is.

With last week's adventuring still fresh in mind, it should be no surprise I'm going to select a location from that trip. Given the ground we covered and numerous stops made, though, it's still a difficult choice. In the end though, the Pinnacles at Crater Lake National Park wins this pageant. I feel like it combines some likenesses to all three rock types, igneous, sedimentary, and metamorphic, it presented us with beautiful tones even sans make-up, a gorgeous early evening lighting choice, and (at the risk of sounding like a serious perv) is barely legal from a geological perspective, at a nubile 6800 years old.

Look at that glow!

Perky!

For the evening gown segment, she arrayed herself in a stunning forest green fashion of her own design... the symmetry and self-similarity are breath-taking.

Zooming in to savor the details...

Skin tone is only skin deep, but oh what skin tone it is!

Study in contrasts.

For rocks, this complexion is perfect.

Secrets for those patient and willing to search them out.

Soft, sensuous curves flirtatiously revealed to a wooer willing to get a bit edgy...

...followed by a J.J. Abrams glamour shot.



Early evening glow.

Seductively teasing

@Dhunterauthor

Coyly sharing secrets...

...and a fond farewell after an early evening rendezvous.

Whew! Excuse me; I need to go wash up!

As a postlude, another story of Suzy and Gene: they met as students at U of O in Eugene. Gene had a summer job as a firewatcher, and was posted on Mount Scott for a while. That peak is the tallest in this park, and located not far from Kerr Notch, which is where Sand Creek, the stream that carved this gorge, originates. It's lower eastern flank is visible in the uppermost left of the photo captioned "Secrets for those patient and willing to search them out." Though thunderstorms are painfully rare here in the Willamette Valley, they are fairly frequent and brutally violent in the Cascades. The iron-framed bed in the watch tower rested on thick glass casters, and Gene had been advised that in the event of an electrical storm, the bed was the safest place around. Suzy, upon visiting him one weekend, and happening to be there during a serious storm, was, shall we say, less than convinced that Gene's intentions were honorable. And of course, the louder and more forcefully he insisted, the less convinced she became...

Face it: sexy geology is more straight-forward than human relations. With rocks, you can be sure they're not playing mind games, at least not on purpose.

Post Script: Almost forgot, I wanted to mention that one year our Geology Club tee-shirt was a line drawing of the Grand Canyon, showing both the layers of the horizontal Paleozoic section, and the tilted layers of the Precambrian Grand Canyon Series. Drawn by classmate and friend Michelle D., with whom I recently reconnected on Twitter, the caption was "So many beds, so little time."

Volcanic Ramblings Part I: Teaser Tweeting

I'm now back in my sleepy little home town of Corvallis, blissfully sipping coffee at my favorite coffee shop. Bif the kitteh was clearly traumatized by his 5-day abandonment; the person who was to feed and water him and give him a little attention and company didn't, and the back-up apparently didn't really do back up. His water was low and filthy, and it looked, from the amount of food spilled around, that the bowl was filled to the brim once, then forgotten. I don't know what the whole story is yet, so I'm keeping my temper on simmer. The good news is, as frantic and scared as he was when I got in last night, he calmed and quieted down as the evening went on, and seemed pretty relaxed this morning.

While I did have wifi most nights, what I didn't have was energy and time to say anything of substance regarding the day's sights and events. So starting day 2, I made my priority to get my photos downloaded to ye old electronical difference engine, and get a few "teasers-" photos I was pleased with- uploaded to Twitter, with a minimum of commentary and concern with geological utility. I figured those things were better addressed with blog posts, which simply were not going to happen. Between the difficulty of sleeping in unfamiliar beds in unfamiliar settings, and days that invariably ran longer than anticipated, I think it's fair to say all three of us spent the trip in a state of semi-exhaustion, and complete exhaustion by the time we retired to our respective rooms.

So herewith are the photos I posted from the road, more or less in the order we visited the sites, along with the associated Twitter comments I made when posting them. I'm not going to try to resize these to larger, but they should all get much bigger if you click on them or open links in new tabs with a right-click.

Booyah geotweeps! Tired, but great geo! Few pics: 1, Salt Creek Falls, yday

Volcanclastic seds, diatomite, coal, on Rt. 97 N of Klamath Falls, ~30 mi.

Pinnacles, Crater Lake NP

@Dhunterauthor in front of lahar deposit filling cut into volcaniclastic sed layers

Platy jointing 1; hammer middle bottom for scale.

Platy jointing 2, partway up Doherty grade. #1 in left middle of #2

Pisolitic texture in devitrified rhyolite (I was reminded later by @CGKings317 that the correct name for these structures is "spherulites," however, I'm not sure "pisolitic texture" would be incorrect in this context. Any geo-terminology nerds care to clarify?)

Filling in the happy little alluvial fans- Doherty Rim

One more pic before bed: Hart Mountain (on right) from near Adel, OR.

Summer Lake: a geologist was here (before us, I mean)

Ball & pillow structure in Table Rock tuff cone deposits.

Yaaaaaay! Correlation is fun! (Table Rock tuff cone deposits)

@callanbentley The rarely observed "splort structure." (Table Rock tuff cone)

Palagonite tuff at Fort Rock, OR

3 episodes of palagonite tuff accumulation, 2 of sloughing into blast crater, & 1 major episode of wave erosion.

Mahogany obsidian (looks like Glass Butte) in facade of hotel where staying tonight (Budget Inn, Bus. Rt. 97, Bend OR)

Parasitic cinder cones on NW flank of Newberry Volcano, from top of Lava Butte

A few final teaser photos from last day of volcanic rambling: 3 Sisters, Paulina Peak Pinnacles & Paulina Lake

Paulina Lake, Central Cinder Cone, East Lake and obsidian flow, ringed by Newberry Caldera

Contorted flow banding in Newberry Obsidian Flow (need to measure lens cap, but recollection is 52 mm)

Flow banded block broken off and re-entrained in more flow banded obsidian, Newberry Caldera, OR.

One more: Dee Wright Observtory, McKenzie Pass, OR: a most propitious place to observe volcanoes

Keep in mind, these are intended just to be quick and dirty updates, and to tantalize various geobloggers with hints of things to come. I will post the majority of these photos again with more detailed discussion and many additional shots from the same stops and areas. I shot 625 pictures on this trip, so the above, while including some of my favorites, are truly only a drop in the bucket. Also be sure to follow @Dhunterauthor (En Tequila Es Verdad), who was my impossibly generous sponsor, delightfully enthusiastic traveling companion, and increasingly, dear friend on this grueling but wondrous excursion. She probably took twice as many photos as I did. The third member of our company, Cujo359, blogs at Slobber and Spittle, and while not as enamored with things geological as Dana and I are, also helped underwrite my participation in this adventure, and showed enduring patience in the face of our lithic fixation. He has already posted a lovely picture of a rail trestle west of Oakridge OR, and will undoubtedly post further documentation of this trip in the days and weeks to come. Followup: Thanks to a commenter on that post, information on a large landslide has come to light, which Cujo359 has gone through and discussed in detail at the link. For example, mud/debris lines 50 feet up the tree trunks...

I make no promises regarding the regularity or frequency of posts in this series, but I'm looking forward to working through some first-hand experiences at long last. Stay tuned!