Update from the Lake: Wintry Days

During the recent holidays, I was fortunate enough to spend a few days at my favorite northern CA lake. I was unfortunate enough to be "mildly" ill during that time, recovering from an unknown malady that caused upper and lower respiratory distress, inflammation, infection—whatever—something that the local clinic (in my northern NV home area) did not bother to test for, but gave me two anti-inflammatory medicines, Z-pak and prednisone (Z-pak is primarily an anti-biotic, but who knows if I needed one).

While recovering, mostly by relaxing in front of a wood cook stove, I took a few walks down to the local beach area, where spring water enters the lake.

So, let's go for a walk or two.

Christmas day, it was sunny but occasionally foggy.

The lake has a little picnic area, though it was a little cold for just sitting around.

Nice lake view, looking south toward the dam, which is not in view.

A few days later, I made another hike down to the lake. It was a gray, cloudy day. A bright white line on the shore across the lake stood out, creating a little bit of lighting drama.

Down on the rocky shore, water from a spring feeds into the lake, causing a bit of green—probably algae.

A few old stumps from when trees were cut before the reservoir was filled, back in 1914, are scattered about. Most of the present-day lake bottom consisted of meadow and marshland before filling, so tree stumps exist only along some shores.

The last photo looks west, down the rocky shoreline. Rocks consist primarily of rounded and partly rounded basalt cobbles and boulders, derived from the dominant bedrock of the area: basalt not far below the soil of the surrounding forest. Snow line here is below the high water mark, which is probably about 5 feet below the lowest pine tree, just below the upper concrete slab (concrete?). That is, when the lake is full, you can walk along the shore by moving from boulder to boulder, to do a little fishing (although technically, any land above the high water mark outside the beach area is private land).

AW #58: Beware of the Signs!

Evelyn Mervine at Georneys is holding another Accretionary Wedge carnival (two in a row!), this time it's AW #58: Signs! I was first thinking of some geographic signs along the lines of her original signposts meme, and realized the ones I was thinking of consist of license plates rather than mileage signposts, and that all the ones I have are probably non-digital and currently a bit hard to reach (nevertheless will try to post some when I'm not quite so busy). Instead, I dug up a sign from a trip to Crater Lake a few years back.

Hard to say whether this sign on a very steep part of the west rim of Crater Lake is to warn one away from the danger of the steep slope, or a warning that the mountain (cinder cone or entire caldera?) might blow!

Glacial grooves and striations, field sandal for scale.

Either way, if one persists past the sign in true geological fashion, one will find a great exposure of glacially striated and grooved volcanic rock. Read a little more about the glacial history of Crater Lake here.

Two Years Ago Today: Above Bowman Creek Camp

Taking a quick break from our regularly scheduled Backroads:Ophir editions, I'll flash back to another creek on the east side of the Toiyabe Range of central Nevada, that being Bowman Creek, which I visited two years ago in search of lost memories, lost campsites, and lost people. While at Bowman Creek — two years ago today — I drove up the dirt road on the south side of the Bowman Creek fan to an area with some old buildings, including this run-down stone cabin.
I don't know anything about the history of these buildings; they are located near a little turnout in the road south of Bowman Creek (MSRMaps) and camoflauged by trees in the related airphoto.
It was autumn, the leaves were falling, and the old cabins or homesteads were picturesque. This is the larger and more intact of two wooden buildings, made of logs, beams, and boards, with lots of clay chinking.
Some purple daisies or asters, sagebrush, and fall leaves near the doorway of the larger wooden building.
From the inside of the large building, I could see the second wooden building...
...and I could see blue sky through the rafters.
The partially collapsed, second wooden structure.
I wandered on down to a patch of tall cottonwood trees just below the dirt road and old cabins.
Because of the trees, I suspect this was a ranch area, although there are a few prospects and old mine adits up Bowman Creek, so the buildings could have been old miner's shacks.
The wind was blowing and leaves were falling.
I finally captured one.
After sitting in the falling leaves for a while...
...I headed back down the road.

The Bowman Creek Series:
Getting There
The Creek
The Camp
A Tribute
Above Bowman Creek Camp (this post)

The Ophir Canyon Series (so far):
A Saturday Drive
Our Route from Eureka, NV, to Middlegate Station over Ophir Summit
The Lower Part of Ophir Canyon, central Nevada
A Brief Stop in Ophir, NV

There and Back Again: A Meeting with Hgg

I was fortunate enough recently (yesterday, to be precise) to take a little roadtrip and meet up with hgg of the hgg blog (formerly known as hypoglycemiagirl) - or @DrHgg, as she is also known. She was traveling with family, on her way between a northern prairie location and a southwestern inland location; we met somewhere in the middle, near a Starbucks. These are a few pictures, mostly of the roadtrip, and also of our boots.
On the way there: the sun is barely up near Wheeler Peak - in fact, the craggy knob on the right *is* Wheeler Peak.
On the way there: the sunrise, with Utah making up most of the photo. Colors included an amazingly deep yellow and a turquoise that the camera wouldn't quite reproduce.
On the way there: a snow-covered valley with some distant ice-fog. I know it's ice fog, because much of my travel was through areas where bushes, small trees, and fence wires were covered with sparkly crystals of frosty ice. In Nevada, the ice fog is known as Pogonip.
Here we are: two pairs of boots, on two bloggers! We met at a Starbucks, then went to lunch at a very nice Italian restaurant. We had a great time, some good food, and excellent coffee (at the restuarant, where the doppio beat out the Americano from Starbucks). Certain non-drivers were seen having wine with lunch. I wasn't in the non-driver category.
On the way back: fog was still hanging around in a few valleys - not frozen fog, but fog that was getting ready to freeze up for the night.
On the way back: two large, dark hawks were sitting on snow a yard or two off the edge of the road. It looked like they were just sitting there having a chat like bloggers, or bedding down like deer. Both flew off when I stopped to get a better look.
On the way back: the sun sets somewhere in the west.

The Geologist: Fully Equipped for the Field

No, I'm not going to add a picture here, although The Lost Geologist did; his picture details everything he carries when fully field ready. Maybe I'll add a photo of myself later, but right now my field gear is strewn all around my bedroom and all through the front and back of my truck. That's often what happens when I come in from the field. So I'll more or less follow checklists, which - for this impromptu geo-meme - can be found at Geotripper and Johannes Lochman. Update: I didn't see Kim's entry at All of My Faults are Stress Related when I wrote this. And now, Hypocentre has one up, also.

Hair: Mine is pulled back and up in a clip, and always completely hidden by a sunhat or baseball cap. I gave up on any kind of ponytail a long time ago.

Sunburned Peeling Nose: I generally avoid this one, with sunscreen rated 35 to 50, if at all possible. I already had way too much sun exposure when growing up in the baby-oil suntan lotion days.

Beard: Thankfully, none at all. It would look strange with my female body!

T-shirt and Logo: When wearing T-shirts instead of long-sleeve, sun-proof, breathable shirts (or winter gear and layers), my T-shirts are usually devoid of logos anymore and often have pockets. Pockets are so essential.

Vest: I wear a vest, often a beige Filson (or a bright orange one for hunting season), but more recently a larger, fluorescent orange safety vest, like this one.

Things in the Vest: For me, the vest is designed to carry almost everything that I carry, because I try to avoid having a backpack (only if sampling big time). The back vest pocket (or two), can carry as many as four or five 5-pound rock samples. The back pocket is also a handy place to put hand samples, the rock hammer, and clothing taken off when de-layering in cool-cold-rainy-snowy weather. That's also where I put my water bottle and sometimes my lunch. A few sample bags belong inside the back pocket.

Front inside pockets hold my Brunton compass, any safety papers I need in a plastic baggie, toilet paper in another baggie, any cheat sheets I think I need, extra map scales, my field book, GPS, sample book if needed, flagging, topofil thread and hip chain if needed, extra markers, extra GPS and digital camera batteries, and sunscreen.

Front outside pockets hold my acid bottle in its leather case, protein bars, and my digital camera (or does that go on the inside?). Because my acid bottle is in a pocket, my vest is sometimes adorned by duct tape where acid has eaten through the vest material. Acid bottle and sunscreen have to be kept away from any paper like maps and field book, and from batteries and food. Sunscreen and acid have to be kept away from GPS and digital camera, as does any water or other liquids.

Upper left pockets hold pens, pencils, a few colored pencils, a couple markers, and map scales. I'm currently putting my hand lens and magnet, which are on a nylon cord and are designed to hang from my neck, into the upper right pocket, but I may remove the velcro that closes that pocket - then I will be able to hang the lens and magnet from my neck, where they will rest in that de-velcroed pocket while hanging.

I've probably left a couple things out; one usually figures those things out after the first day or two.

Belt and Buckle: I wear a sturdy, nylon webbing belt, and try to avoid carrying anything on the belt, including hammer, acid bottle, or Brunton. Instead, the hammer is in my hand or in the large back pocket of my vest; the acid bottle is in one particular front vest pocket; and the Brunton is in some other particular front pocket. The only thing I attach is my pocket knife, which is tied to a belt loop by an extra boot lace. It's attached to me that way because I've left it behind after lunch way too many times.

Pockets: Keys, ear plugs, sun-proof chapstick, maybe some lysine ointment in case I develop sun-caused fever blisters, maybe my data stick if I've been to the office - these all go in the two front pockets, the keys in a zipped pocket if I have one. Any motel keycard I happen to have will be in a zipped pocket or in my truck with my wallet, well hidden. Sometimes my camera will fit into a front pocket. My cell phone goes in a zipped pocket on the side, down above the knees - or in the field vest in a zipped or velcroed pocket.

With all the pockets available on pants and vest, I have managed to take and carry several samples after running out of sample bags (or once when I forgot them). One has to be careful when sampling this way to make sure there is no contamination already present in the pockets (ha!), to label the samples somehow, and to get a large enough sample size. This method of sampling is not recommended, and is usually only good for a few, small samples.

Rock Hammer: As Geotripper mentioned, a rock hammer is useful for things besides whaling away at rocks and outcrops. For one thing, hammers are good for hammer-throwing contests. Many kinds of contests have been devised, and new ones can be invented if the old standard ones get boring. Be sure not to hit the back of one's head when winding up for a good hammer throw (this happened in one particular throwing contest that took place the western Mojave north of Tehachapi).

Hammers are also good for defending oneself: from rabid bobcats, for example, and from coyotes (I thought about it once when I looked up and three were staring at me from across a 20-foot-wide sand wash), and also from potentially bad-ass people, who are sometimes found in locations south of the Garlock Fault or anywhere in the vicinity of the Panamint Range.

I sometimes carry a 2.5 pound sledge hammer with a long wooden handle that doubles as a walking stick on steep sidehills. It's also good for aiding with balance.

Hands: I will carry my rock hammer, map case or large map board, and GPS. A map case will fit in the back Filson or vest pocket; a hammer will fit there, also. I look at my GPS almost constantly when mapping.

Legs: I'm with Johannes on this one. I have rarely worn shorts in the field - to avoid sun and scratchy or thorny bushes - so my legs are not tan, and they are hidden under pants. Are they muscular? Who knows?

Pants: These are the things that cover the legs, and which add pockets to the list of many pockets above. I wear loose cotton jeans with a carpenter or painter style for extra pockets - or, more recently, nylon pants with extra pockets. These are thin, light-colored pants which can double as exterior winter pants to keep out rain or snow when used with long johns for warmth. If it's too cold, overpants and lined pants are required, sometimes diminishing the number of available pockets. But winter is a special case where staying warm trumps number of pockets or how much one can carry.

Shoelaces: These are indeed sometimes knotted to preserve their useful life, and also because I can never remember what length to buy.

Socks: It's nice if one's socks match the rest of one's outfit, but if not wearing shorts, matching becomes non-critical. Sometimes thin under socks are required.

Boots: Recently, my best (most comfortable) pair of field boots has been an ugly black pair, a composite safety toe variety, with pseudo-Vibram soles.

Ironclad Bladders: "For 300 mile drives to geologic localities without stops," per Geotripper. I have met a few geologists with "itty-bitty-bladders" who were always needing stops out in the middle of nowhere, where the largest cover is the truck. Thus developed a long-standing rule: men use the front of the truck, women use the back, and everyone has to get out of the truck or van and go to their places. That's so all men are in front of all truck mirrors. I have met a few men who would prefer that I walk miles to find cover rather than them get in front of the truck while I use the back of the truck as a potty - but these men have, thankfully, been rare, and I never listen to them. It can seem a little uncomfortable ordering one's boss to the front of the truck, but - hey, you do what you gotta do!

Another characteristic is required for one's bladder in desert or other non-cover areas: speed. Speed is needed when the only place to stop is the side of a straight stretch of dirt or paved road. Exceptional speed is needed when the road curves and you can't see around the curve.

Brunton Compass: Yes - see above. These can be used on rare occasions for signaling to wayward helicopters, but don't expect them to see you. These can also be used for checking into mine adits to see how far into the hill they go.

Eyes: Sunglasses are often worn; ones that change from light to dark can be useful. Always be on the look out for - everything.

Brain: "Dehydrated, half-baked, freeze-dried, poisoned, but always plotting the next trip," also per Geotripper. Indeed. And sometimes thermally altered by too much sun or too much beer.

Hat: Worn to protect said brain - see "Hair" above.

Backpack: When I carry a backpack, in addition to all of the above things, I will for sure have an emergency kit including snake-bite kit, more water, toilet paper, lunch stuff, lots of extra sample bags, moleskin, extra glasses, and waterproof matches wrapped in ziplock baggies.

My backpack often has other miscellany leftover from hiking trips; I don't always know what these things are or when I decided they were useful. For example, spare change for phones and dollars for cabs are rarely needed. Whereas I have seen pay phones in the middle of nowhere, these are getting rarer and rarer: a phone booth once located near Cima Dome, CA, was taken out in 2000 because it became too popular in the 1990's. Another in-the-middle-of-nowhere pay phone still exists, as far as I know, to the east. I used this other pay phone as early as 1983, before Cima Dome became popular and inspired a movie.

As far as cabs go (ha!), I have seen them deliver people down miles of terrible dirt roads to places as far away from a city as The Pyramid on the east side of Pyramid Lake; however, if you need a cab when already out in the middle of nowhere because your truck broke down or because your field partner forgot to meet you at the end of the day, one will rarely drive by on whatever dirt road or sand wash you happen to be stuck in. In fact, I've never seen a random cab go by anywhere out there.

The Short Geologist at Accidental Remediation has numerous posts relating to field gear of all kinds, including clothing and tools for your field vehicle.

Geology is "Hot" because...

1. I get to climb around on rocks and balance myself in precarious positions.


2. I get to wear field boots,


3. and field sandals (see above).


4. I get to fly around in helicopters and stay out in the field all night when idiot pilots forget to pick me up.


5. I get to have a breccia collection.


6. I get to find v.g. (visible gold) out in the middle of nowhere (well, near Beatty, NV in this case).


7. I get to stop at roadcuts and look at rocks, which I've been doing at least since I was 5 (my first memory of a roadcut was from age 5, a particular slaty cut in eastern Nevada).


8. I get to have strange geology dreams.


9. I get to write geology poems and geology songs.


10. I get to find faults everywhere, and it's a good thing, not a bad thing.


11. I get to travel, even on days off.


12. I get to go mapping.


13. I get to find geology everywhere I go, even on vacation.


14. I get to work in the desert, with snakes and things.


15. I get paid to drive and paid to eat.

I get to know that subduction really happens, and that it has been happening for a long, long time. And I get to know that one really neat woman, the geologist and geophysicist, Tanya Atwater, contributed greatly to ideas of plate tectonics when those ideas were still being formulated. Her work, along with geological work done in, on, around, and over active and erupting volcanoes, constitutes part of my current definition of "hot" geological science.

Menard, H. W., and Tanya Atwater, 1968, Changes in direction of sea floor spreading. Nature, v. 219, p. 463-467. Reprinted in Plate Tectonics and Geomagnetic Reversals, p. 412-419, W. H. Freeman Co. San Francisco, 1973.

Atwater, Tanya, 1970, Implications of plate tectonics for the Cenozoic tectonic evolution of western North America. Bull. Geol. Soc. Amer., v. 81, p. 3513-3536. Reprinted in Plate Tectonics and Geomagnetic Reversals, p. 583-609, W. H. Freeman Co., San Francisco, 1973. Reprinted in U.C.S.D., Scripps Inst. Oceanography., Contributions, Vol. 40, Part 2, p. 1249-1271, 1970.

This post is being submitted for the December Scientiae Carnival, which is being hosted by Isis the Scientist, who loves Naughty Monkeys and Star Trek.

scientiae-carnival

Boots #1: Just Standin' Around

Well, I didn't have that much to write about (actually I have tons of things to write about, and tons of things to do), so I thought I'd just post a few pictures of geo-types standing around out in the field in their favorite footwear (oh, maybe that should be a friday footwear foto thingy). Mostly these are field boots or hiking boots, but some are tennies or lightweight hiking boots. As you can see, the geos are all standing on outcrops, which is one place geo-types like to be. The outcrops, all in Nevada of all places, are of 1) silicified rock, 2) unknown rock, 3) oxidized rock, 4) white tuff.