Draw your own conclusions by reading the following links. At the time, the "blinding, deafening blast" was not a mystery. The "doom, doom, doom" scenario offered by many websites reminds me of dwarves in the The Mines of Moria per the Lord of the Rings.
A view of the mountain from the mountain's shoulder; you can see some layered rocks that form the highest part of the mountain. Are they sedimentary, metamorphic, or volcanic?
Some purple wildflowers growing along a rushing, snow-melt creek.
A view of distant mountains to the southeast from the shoulder of the mountain.
We found this little ground squirrel on the side of the road, apparently eating dirt - maybe it was going after road salt from the winter.
If geologists could not use what they see around them now, by studying geologic processes and relationships occurring and in place today, it would be difficult if not impossible to determine what had happened in the past. Any ideas, concepts, or hypotheses that a geologist might form about the past - anywhere or anywhen on earth - would be useless without the principle of uniformitarianism, simply because one could not go to the geologic record - which is also a record of events and processes that include the chemistry of the past, the physics of the past, the biology of the past, the hydrology of the past, the geochemistry of the past, the geophysics of the past, and the bio-geology of the past - and do any meaningful interpretation at all.
If, for example, sedimentary rock layers of the past were laid down sideways or vertical instead of in horizontal fashion as we see them being laid down today - say, because the gravity on earth worked very differently in the past - then any interpretation of what happened to older rock layers that are now folded, faulted, and otherwise deformed, would be incorrect. Another way of looking at this would be as described at MSN Encarta:In other words, ripple marks today indicate that water has flowed or wind has blown1 (because we also see ripple marks created in areas of blowing sand), and therefore ripple marks in rock formations of the past also indicate the same thing. By measuring and comparing ripple marks formed today under different circumstances of water or wind formation, different speeds of water current or air movement, and different environments, a geologist can then apply the data collected today to the ripple marks of the past and hypothesize an environment in which those ancient ripple marks formed.The principle of uniformitarianism depends on the 'uniformity of laws,' which assumes that the laws of physics and chemistry have remained constant. To test uniformity of laws, geologists can examine preserved one-billion-year-old ripples that look very much like ripples on the beach today. If gravity had changed, water and sand would have interacted differently in the past, and the ripple evidence would be different.
Geologists at first sometimes took the principle of uniformitarianism to such an extreme that catastrophic events of certain kinds were almost completely ruled out, perhaps because the principle was partly formulated as a tenet opposite to the then prevailing doctrine of catastrophism. The two major types of events somewhat ruled out by geologists of the past were huge, giant floods and huge, giant volcanic eruptions. The reason for these things being ruled out or overlooked while using the principle of uniformitariansim, is that these things - huge catastrophic floods, and huge catastrophic volcanic eruptions - are not seen happening on earth today. The discovery and recognition by J. Harlan Bretz of the very large series of floods that formed the Channeled Scablands of Washington state, eventually was accepted as something that 1) really happened and 2) could happen again if circumstances similar to those that caused the floods occurred again. It's interesting to note that it was in part the identification of huge ripple marks that clinched the acceptance of the way-larger-than-usual floods. In a way, then, the principle of uniformitarianism helped confirm Harlan Bretz's ideas - if you look at the size of ripples in rivers today and compare them to the size of the ripples formed by these past floods in the Channeled Scablands, you would have to conclude that an immense volume of water was required to form them.
Likewise, the recognition of the very large volcanic calderas of Tertiary age in central Nevada and of Quaternary age in Yellowstone Park, Wyoming made geologists realize that large, "catastrophic" volcanic eruptions are part of the earth's history and therefore could happen today/soon, or sometime in the near to far future. The relative size of the eruptions at Yellowstone (Yellowstone Park and environs actually contains several - at least three - calderas) compared to that of many volcanic eruptions that we, as people, think of as large or "catastrophic" is discussed at Yellowstone Caldera. It can be good to remember that events that are considered catastrophic are on the large end of a continuum of smaller to larger events, and that the large events are often considered catastrophic only because of the effect they could have on humans. We are the ones defining normal earth processes as catastrophic.
Anyone attempting to do geology without using the principle of uniformitarianism as described above, is really not doing geology at all.
1. I am reminded of the movie Little Big Man, in which Pawnee chief, Old Lodge Skins, says "...as long as grass grow, and wind blow, and the sky is blue." One of my favorite quotes, for some reason.
UPDATE 23Jun2010: Also see Rapid Canyon Formation and Uniformitarianism at Clastic Detritus and Of Catastrophic Floods and Canyons at 4.5 Billion Years of Wonder.
It's early summer here, or at least it's acting like it with blue, cirrus-filled skies in the morning and mid-day, which sometimes give way in the afternoon to thunder-poppers. Winds will sometimes pick up a bit in the afternoon, but overall not that much. The monsoon has yet to move in on a regular basis. Temps in the valleys are reaching the mid to high 80's, and it has been difficult to really cool our little house down at night using our tiny window AC. If it's cool enough outside, I'll leave the bedroom window open a crack, but sometimes it's too warm for that.
Sounds of summer, so far this year, are a nearby church bell that chimes the quarter hours, and the local historical train giving touristy train rides. The train excursions increase during the summer.
Any visitors [link not currently available] from colder climates are encouraged to bring T-shirts, a couple long shirts, and a jacket or sweatshirt in case it suddenly goes cold on us. This is Nevada, after all.
When I leave my little office for days off, I clean the dust and any loose rock chips off the desk, and put all my logging and geology tools in order. These tools include spray water bottles, an acid bottle, a coffee cup, a couple magnets, and various scratching devices for testing mineral hardness. Also, a streak plate is handy to have at hand.
Nearby, I have my rock color chart, a mineral percent estimating chart or two, a sand grain sizing gauge with pasted-on sand particles, and a pocket knife. All kinds of miscellaneous other things are lying around here or there, some buried in plastic boxes, others under piles of paper or journal articles: color pencils, marking pens of various sizes, extra flagging of a couple different colors, extra sunscreen in case I run out, a pocket stereo viewer that I rarely use, extra boots, extra vests, extra hats, extra field books, extra, extra, extra... And some old, stale Swisher Sweets, which I really should throw away: they're probably awful by now, and I haven't had any desire for a (good or bad) cigar in a couple years.
The back of my truck, now, that's another story. It's organized and disorganized, depending on where or how deep you look. Where I should have the requisite 5 gallons of water per my own desert rules, I've got a bunch of rocks - can you imagine that? And that's in the back of the truck. I've also got rocks under both sides of the front seat, and one rock hammer under the driver's side, and another rock hammer under the passenger's side. The rock hammers belong in the back, unless I'm getting in and out of the truck a lot. The rocks belong outside the truck. Most of them are so old that I'm not sure I will be able to tell where they are from, although several have numbers on them, numbers that no longer mean a thing to me.
I used to be much better with organization, with labeling rocks and keeping them in places where I might actually look at them again. Oh, well.
Just a few summaries and links to mining and exploration stories out recently. Excuse some dorky titles. How can you tell which titles are dorky? Easy, the dorky ones are mine.Brian at Clastic Detritus has recently had an article about petroleum resources on the Outer Continental Shelf (OCS). I'm providing a few links for further reference, mostly in order to flesh out the history of the moratorium itself.
A brief history of the moratorium and bans on drilling: first, the initial moratoriums were passed as part of certain fiscal year (FY) budgets for the Department of Interior (DOI). The history and much more can be read here, and is summarized as follows:
The Minerals Management Service (MMS) summarizes the history the OCS Lands Act and more, going back to the 1800's.
Marathon Oil sues the U.S. in 1997 over part of the OCS ban and certain leases it had been awarded in 1981 prior to the moratorium.
A 2000 update on OCS royalties, and more, by AGI.
A 2004 Geotimes article compares the way we manage OCS leasing and drilling with the way Norway does it, and goes into some of the root causes for our current ban (environmental, primarily).
MMS lists some U.S. Offshore Milestones as of 2006.
Environment: a couple links to 2006 arguments by the Sierra Club for keeping the ban, including 2005 testimony before the Senate Committee on Energy and Natural Resources.
A 2006 Power Point presentation by a coalition for maintaining the current OCS bans, has some history and definitions.
A 2006 letter from the County of Los Angeles opposes the ban.
A CSN News article from 2006, wherein Bush says yes to nuclear energy, quoted in part below:
More Nuclear Power, Bush Says; No Oil Drilling, Pelosi Insists
By Susan Jones
CNSNews.com Senior Editor
May 19, 2006
(CNSNews.com)Politicians of all stripes agree that the United States would benefit from a reduced dependence on foreign oil. But that's where the agreement ends.
On Thursday, President George W. Bush said the nation "must start building nuclear power plants." He described them as a "key part of a clean, secure energy future."
Bush spoke on the same day that House Minority Leader Nancy Pelosi warned, "We cannot drill our way to energy independence."
June 18, 2008 news from Energy Daily.
June 18, 2008 news from Poynter Online.
The Congressional Record online only goes back to 1983, but some information possibly could be found there, if you know how to look for it. I found it a little cumbersome.
Where the rivers are winding,
Big nuggets they're finding.
North to Alaska,
North, the rush is on.
North to Alaska,
North, we're going back home.
Yes, that's my hiking boot (barely) in both photos for scale. The fossils are from the same locality as the ones I showed a couple weeks ago.And no, I'm not going to name them! Can you?
Have a good weekend!
Second Image from Wikipedia
I first read about this Science article at Olelog, who explains it all pretty well, I think, and provides a few more links.
According to the article - I, who live in the temperate zone, with our house at the lake in Sierra Nevada forest and our little house in the Nevada outback in upland steppe (sagebrush zone to pinon-juniper zone), should not plant trees, but rather should strip trees and bushes, possibly either to plant wheat (winter wheat? native wheatgrass?) or to plant cement or white river rock! [These are my extrapolations, not specific statements in any of the above links.]
I think not. I will go xeriscape in places like Reno. I will not, however, cut down temperate-zone trees in order to xeriscape or plant native grasses. The effect I've noticed of having a lawn with plants and trees in desert towns like Reno is the following: green grass (not native grass that turns brown by late spring) will cool your house in the summer considerably. Cement and white river rocks around your house will heat your house in the summer considerably (the winter heating effect can be desirable, but there are other ways to achieve that goal, such as windows in all the right places).
I won't do it. MOH and I have been growing spruce trees for the last several years; I'm not about to kill them now.
Just a rant or reaction, mostly. But my interpretation, although extreme, really does suggest that stripping and not replanting forests would stop, negate, or at least slow global warming. If that is the case, then global warming in and of itself could have the effect of counteracting global warming when the temperate tree line moves north, creating grasslands across the temperate zone. (Of course, in that case, we will still have to go cut down the boreal forests!)
On another minor issue, the Science abstract uses the following phrase: "...the low albedo of boreal forests is a positive climate forcing." Why the (fairly) recent jargony use of "forcing," which now permeates the climate change literature, or at least the online literature. One could simply say: "...the low albedo of boreal forests has a positive effect on climate." OR: "...the low albedo of boreal forests increases overall global temperatures." Forcing used to be a verb. Now it's used as a noun and an adjective. Yikes, is what I say! Oh, well. I'm not in that field. I'm not going to change that usage. But it sounds jargony to me, and it sounds non-specific, also. Is a "positive climate forcing" equal to something that raises temperature, or is it merely something that has a "definite" effect rather than a "positive" effect (the latter presumably being an increase in temperature)?
I guess my only real point here is that I'm not cutting trees in my area (or in Alaska, either, for that matter) for the sake of counteracting global warming based on this Science article. I guess Johnny Appleseed should have been shot for his efforts, although try telling that to the people of Paradise, CA (for some reason, there are persistent local legends that Johnny Appleseed made it that far west!).
They took all the trees
Put 'em in a tree museum
And they charged the people
A dollar and a half just to see 'em
Don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you've got
Till it's gone
They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot
Big Yellow Taxi (as written and sung by Joni Mitchell)
© 1966-69 Siquomb Publishing Co. BMI
Well, I have been working in this neck of the woods for about a year, now. It's the first time I've worked at a mine in my decades-long career, and now it's already been a year. My how the time flies. Prior to this, I've mostly been in exploration.
The ProspectorConnolly wrote the story he knew best, Montana's copper wars. His publisher, McClure's Magazine, advertised the Clark-Daly feud, spiced with the struggle between Standard Oil and Heinze as "the most thrilling fact story that has ever come out of the West" and illustrated it with rare photographs and N. C Wyeth's The Prospector...
Though [the story] was accused of bias, "The Story of Montana" launched Connolly's career, and he went on to write three more articles for McClure's detailing Heinze's court battles with Standard Oil's Amalgamated Copper Company and others.
"The story of Montana" is potentially for sale at Amazon.com, but is currently unavailable. Keep your eye out for a copy, if you are interested in American history.
I chose the painting "The Prospector" because 1) I wanted something related to mining and 2) I like the colors and shapes in the painting. I'm not usually a fan of early American western-style paintings, but this one appealed to me. I can't say much about artistic influences on N. C. Wyeth's work, but he studied under Howard Pyle in Chadds Ford, Pennsylvania. The National Museum of Illustration (NMAI) has an excellent biography of N. C. Wyeth. In it they state that Wyeth's instructor, Pyle
exhorted his students to “jump into their paintings to know the place” they were depicting. To go and experience the environments, and Wyeth took him literally, and went out West and lived with the Utes and Navahos. For three months he punched cattle, herded, was a mail-carrier, and documented his experiences in meticulous drawings. When he returned his incredible artwork was sought after and published at an astonishing rate.
Perhaps it's his dedication to place that strikes me in this particular painting. In any case, N. C. Wyeth put a lot of effort into gaining the experience he needed to paint what he wanted to paint. Most of his paintings aren't strictly geological in nature, but this one shows a backdrop that looks like Mt. Whitney in the southern Sierra Nevada of California. It could also be many places elsewhere in the west, including certain high peaks in Colorado, Idaho, and Montana, and probably other areas as well.
Accretionary Wedge #10: Geology in Art
Many geobloggers have blogged about this new phenomenon, which has made some of us famous, or at least handed out the 15 minutes of fame due to everyone according to Andy Warhol. Some of us are less famous than others, but Chris at Highly Allochthonous is doing his best to make sure we are all given our place on the geoblogic roster (or would that be geoblogical?) - see his list of the 45 geoblogs that make up his "allgeo" - and also see a few more geoblogs listed in the comments on his post. Which reminds me, I need to update my geo-links!
So, for all my non-geoblogospherian readers, those of you who might not yet be on to the whole of the GeoBlogosphere, please check it out. Chris's Allgeo feed can be read in the sidebar here at Looking for Detachment, and also in the sidebars of many other geobloggers' blogs.
Those of us who have recently meta-geoblogged include the following, listed in geologic order, with the oldest post at the bottom and the youngest at the top, just as we see things in the geologic record:
If I've left anyone out as far as posts go, sorry 'bout that! Some "layers" are listed more than once, because they geoblogged about geoblogging more than once!
The porch is a rustic affair, but from it you can see the little yellowish finch birds that come to the back of the motel to get water from swamp coolers. 
Here's a view of a nearby ranch, just east of Middlegate Junction, with the south part of the eastern Clan Alpin Mountains in the background. If you look closely (click to enlarge), you can see that the well-exposed Tertiary volcanic rocks are dipping slightly to the east.
A storm moved in, and we retreated to our motel room for a while, but outside the views were still great - of clouds and partly hidden mountains.
Before leaving, you might want to take a last look at some of the rustic old cars and buggies and things around the station.
And you might want to make a last phone call, letting everyone know where you are.
Now, which way to go: south toward Gabbs...
...or north towards Highway 50?
For this trip, turn right and go east on Highway 50 to the shoe tree...
P.S. This used to be a good place for a "pit stop" - down in the wash that the shoe tree grows in. It's a little overused now, since the Highway 50 and the shoe tree became famous. I'd stop somewhere else, if I were you.
Happy Birthday to any and all of my readers who might happen to have a birthday on June 10th. And here's to you: cheers! From MOH and I both, in case you haven't gotten a birthday card yet.[If you look closely you can see the Surgeon Generals warning - that's all the disclaimer I'm going to make!]
So, today I started out by getting gas in town prior to going to work. As you can see, the gas price is high. The $4.21 and 9 tenths shown is for 85 octane gas, which isn't even sold in most places. In most places, the lowest octane you can buy is 87 octane.
Although I have an old truck, as possibly you can tell from the picture, I go ahead and buy the 85 octane gas. The elevation in eastern Nevada is high; it's also high at the lake and everywhere in between. It's okay to assume that you can lower your octane rating by 1 for every 1000 feet in elevation gained over sea level, just don't immediately, then, cruise back to sea level.
My truck burns a little oil, and is almost at 190,000 miles. It's doing okay. It's a 1992 Chevy half ton with two spare tires in the back and a nice, though slightly rusty Caravan camper. Those are very good metal camper shells that are made in Reno. That's why blue sticker on the truck says, "Nevada's Best." Because it is.
As I maybe mentioned once before, it's really not a desert truck: it don't have no stinking AC. That's a bad paraphrase from - what, oh - Treasure of the Sierra Madre ("We don't need no stinking badges.") For some reason, I'm always thinking that quote is from "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas." Badges remind me of the Test Site, and the Test Site reminds me of Vegas.
My non-desert truck has been up the Alcan 2 times (one of those times, it went part way up on the ferry from Prince Rupert to Skagway), and down the Alcan 2 times. I've been up the Alcan 3 times and down 2 times. The odd discrepancy was because I rode up the Alcan with my dad when he drove the U-Haul that was carrying all my stuff.
I highly recommend driving the Alcan to anyone who has at least two weeks to spare - and I highly recommend having at least one month to spare rather than two weeks. I'm looking forward to hearing about Wayfarer Scientista's journey down the Alcan this summer, and am looking forward to seeing her photos.
A bit more about the Alaska Highway.
Photo two from June 2 was taken near Cholona siding on the Western Pacific Railroad, looking almost due north at Black Rock Point, the formation of rock after which the Black Rock Desert is named.
Photo one from June 2 was taken near Trego Hot Springs looking approximately northwest.
Photo one from June 5 was taken in the "center" of the desert north of Trego Hot Springs, looking northeast.
Photo two from June 5 was taken from the same location, looking approximately north, with the Calico Mountains in the background.
Winnemucca lies many miles east of the desert proper. A wide, graveled, often washboardy (and sometimes horrendous) dirt road connects Gerlach and Winnemucca. The road is currently known in it's entirety as the Jungo Road, according to various county road maps available at Nevada DOT, but it's been shown by two route numbers in the past, with the 1941 state road map showing the entire route as S.R. 49, and with the 1976-77 road map showing S.R. 49 going from Highway 95 just north of Winnemucca to Sulphur, and S.R. 48 going from Sulphur to S.R. 34 (now 447) just south of Gerlach. If the desert is okay for travel, take the desert to Trego — Trego siding and Trego Hot Springs are within a mile or two of each other — and then get off the desert and on to the gravel road. It may be possible to drive farther on the desert toward Winnemucca, but don't do it on my account.
Sign near the west end of the dirt road from Gerlach to Winnemucca (the dirt road begins on S.R. 447 between Gerlach and Empire). Look behind the sign - are those old shorelines?
