Washoe Lake, Slide, Mt. Rose, and Lake Tahoe

Just a quick shot taken from a plane a couple days ago, looking south from around 12,000 feet or so. We circled Lake Tahoe completely, finally coming into the Reno airport from the south—an approach I'm not sure I've been on in my several decades living in the area.

High Water Across the West: The Humboldt River at Winnemucca and Humboldt Station

When I started putting these photos together—while thinking about our last post about the Humboldt River in Carlin Canyon—I somehow (and quite erroneously) figured I could throw a whole bunch of high-water Humboldt River photos together in one blog post. The thing is, I have way too many, from several different localities and a few different days, and I hope to collect a few more before the water ebbs. So for today, we'll stick with these two spots, which I visited while driving I-80 from Elko to Reno on April 19th. The first shot looks westward toward Blue Mountain from the westbound exit onto West Winnemucca Blvd (exit 176).

The flooding in Winnemucca was really quite extensive when I drove through on April 11th (no photos) and then again on the 19th: several backyards and a few basements or first floors of houses near the defunct "Barrick Arms Apartments" were under water. The water had receded incompletely when I saw it last (May 28th).

These first pics show the Humboldt River's floodplain looking more like a marshy lake than it's usual dry self. Water level was slightly lower on April 19th than when I first saw it on the 11th.

Here's a phone-camera panorama, with Blue Mountain way off on the left and Winnemucca Mountain taking up the right half of the photo.

This Google Maps Street View image, a flashback to 2011, shows a more typical appearance of the same panorama, albeit from October rather than spring.

And just because, I've included a picture centered on Winnemucca Mountain. It's a prominent feature and a landmark for miles and miles. If you look closely, you'll see the two-toned "W" painted on its southeastern slope.

On that same day (the 19th), I pulled off I-80 at Humboldt House (exit 138, marked "Humboldt") and drove old Highway 40 back toward Imlay.

I crudely spliced together two or three photos looking northwest across what I thought was Rye Patch Reservoir.

It turns out that the entirety of the water seen in these photos is contained within the Upper and Lower Pitt-Taylor Reservoirs.

Here we see Majuba Hill behind blue water in the Lower Pitt-Taylor Reservoir. The light beige horizontal line between the water and Majuba are bluffs underlain by Lake Lahontan's Sehoo Formation. A narrow part of Rye Patch Reservoir proper runs between us and those bluffs, but we can't really see it, even though the water is running high.

Here we can see both the Lower and Upper Pitt-Taylor Reservoirs. The Lower is closest to us; the Upper is beyond the horizontal pale beige line separating the two bodies of water. The wide upper part of Rye Patch Reservoir lies not far beyond the Upper Pitt-Taylor, hidden from us by some irregular low hills. Off in the distance, we're looking at pointed, snow-covered King Lear Peak, part of the Jackson Mountains. The 8923-foot-high peak (2720 m) is about 45 miles away.

My "New" Toy

Yes, that's an 18-200 mm zoom.

This isn't really a new camera, but it's new to me. It's old, probably from 2006 or 2007. I inherited it from Alaska Al. You saw some of my first photos from this DSLR a couple weeks ago.

I struggle some with accurate color balance when posting on the web. Cameras in general don't shoot accurate color by themselves, hence enhancement or editing. Hence white and gray cards, e.g., this one. Maybe I'll get one. (Any white balance setting on a digital camera is a type of programming—except, perhaps, the PRE or custom setting. Any choice you make is, imo, a type of editing.)

So far with this camera, I've been using auto white balance (AWB), although I know the camera will shoot warm under indoor lighting, and so it will usually require a change to tungsten or something else when indoors. With AWB, the color on the LCD screen has, so far, fairly well matched the color of what I see when shooting, or maybe it's too reddish or bluish on occasion. Of course, when using a DSLR one can't actually see anything on the LCD screen until after taking a shot, because the process of DSLR is different, and one looks into the viewfinder to see exactly what the camera is seeing.

These first pictures below were taken from 395 north of Reno on a fairly gray day. I've enhanced the photos such that they look to me the way they looked on the LCD screen, although they are all probably off, in color, by a hair. I think the next picture could be slightly yellower, but my opinion of it seems to vary depending on what I looked at last.

Sunlight hitting the west part of Seven Lakes Mountain, the part that's in California.

The next photo was shot from a moving vehicle with ISO 800 (not really fast enough for the conditions) at 200 mm zoom (35mm equivalent of 300mm). It was slightly unsharp, though not from the motion; I've since modified the D80's sharpness settings. I've cropped the photo slightly to suit my idea of best composition (hence, it's been enlarged very slightly).

Some rocky crags on Petersen Mountain (MyTopo location).

Petersen Mountain, on the crest of the range not far to the right of the photo, is the site of active quartz crystal mining.

Petersen Mountain from a little farther south.

The photo was taken from about here (Google Maps location), looking southeast toward the high point of the Petersen Mountain (range): Petersen Mountain (summit).

And here's a shot of one of the northern peaks on Peavine, looking southeast from about the stateline near Bordertown.

The camera shows quite a bit of vignetting at 200 mm.

I have, in the meantime, taken a lot of nice photos, particularly some zoomed-in photos of birds. But I'm still figuring out the many settings and possibilities, and am finding the color a little odd in shadowy settings.

Way Too Much Smoke: Volcanoes (and Rivers and Ridges) in the Pacific Northwest

Mt. Jefferson

There I was minding my own business while flying north from RNO to SEA (that is to say, I was reading a thick book and trying to ignore a seatmate while crammed against the window near the rear of a Q400), when I looked out (to the east) and spotted the peak of an Oregon volcano sticking out through what I first thought was a low, thick cloud cover. I grabbed a few quick shots through a badly spotted and smeared window, while rapidly revising my reckoning about the cloud bank: no clouds, just a very dense blanket of smoke.

Whereas I first estimated I was somewhere over central Oregon south of Sisters or Bend, it soon became apparent that I was probably a little farther north than I thought — and it turns out I was between Sisters and Portland looking at Mt. Jefferson (first photo).

Mt. Hood

The photo above shows Mt. Hood barely sticking up above the dense smoke bank. Hard to say exactly, but it looks like the smoke is about 10,000 feet thick! Hood's peak sits at an elevation of 11,240 feet, and its south shoulder sits at somewhat above 10,400 or 10,600 feet (depending on what part of the shoulder we're actually looking at); the Portland outliers of Troutdale and Springdale in the foreground have elevations of about 100 feet and 300 feet, respectively. As a geographical point of interest, the larger, streamlined island on the north side of the wide Columbia River is Reed Island. The river beyond the island fades gradually and then disappears abruptly in the distance.

Mt. St. Helens

My first view of Mt. St. Helens was of what I call the back side (the south side). It's clearly not an ordinary Cascade volcano by today's standard of nice, symmetrical peaks, although several Cascade volcanoes are known to have created lateral blasts like the one St. Helens produced in May, 1980 — and maybe all or most have done something like that sometime in the past.

Mt. St. Helens

This second shot of Mt. St. Helens (above) shows the South Fork of the Toutle River in the foreground and Spirit Lake in the background.

Mt. St. Helens and Mt. Adams

Mt. Adams can be seen in the distance, barely sticking up above the smoke, even though it reaches an elevation of 12,277 feet!

North Fork Toutle River

This view of the Toutle River (Google Maps location) shows an area just above the Toutle River Sediment Retention Structure. The berg of St. Helens sits across from a green, tear-dropped-shaped "island" that is marked as hill 11227 on some topographic maps (e.g. this one at the USGS TNM 2.0 Viewer).

Smoke amid the low hills between Mt. St. Helens and Mt. Ranier

One last look at Mt. St. Helens

Mt. Ranier

Mt. Ranier, the tallest Cascade volcano at an elevation of 14,410 feet, rises above the smoke more than any of the others. The clouds obscuring its peak make it appear to be erupting (it wasn't).

A last view of Mt. Ranier, seen as the airplane descended toward SeaTac.

Smoky wisps interfinger with some low hills north of the airport after take off several hours later.

Photos taken 26August15 between 10:13am and 4:59 pm, PDT.

A Bit More about Mt. St. Helens:
Where in the West: Mt. St. Helens — LFD
Mt. St. Helens Field Trip — LFD
It's the 35th Anniversary of the Big Ba-Boom: Mount St. Helens and the May 18th Eruption — Rosetta Stones
Why Have Volcanoes in the Cascades Been So Quiet Lately?  — Eruptions

Views from Majuba Hill

Here are a few photoviews from Majuba Hill, while I get it together to take some rock photos:

Wooden structure (trestle and ore bin?) on the mine dump of the Middle adit.

Mindat has a photo showing what the above structure looked like in 1970, although the angle isn't great. At that time, the entrance to the adit was wooden (current view of the adit entrance at my previous post). You can see a good side view of the structure here (photo also from Mindat), as it looked in 1980. According to one source, there may have been a 1000-foot-long tramway leading from this site to an ore bin. I have a couple ideas where this could have run; maybe I'll get a chance to post the ideas later.

View looking off  toward the Humboldt Range.

Looking across an upper part of Rye Patch Reservoir at the Humboldt Range.

Star Peak, at 9836 ft (2998 m), is the tallest peak in this view. It's the pointy one on the left. Star Peak is one of the 57 peaks in the lower 48 with 5000 feet or more of prominence (prominence explained here with a map of peaks in the west), and it ranks #6 in prominence in Nevada. The round "hill" in the center is 8940 ft, and the seemingly lower hill a little right of center, which is a bit farther in the distance, is an unnamed peak at 9031 ft.

Where in the West: Dean and Burke Channels; Thunder Mountain and Tzeetsaytsul Peak, B.C.

Dean Channel on the left, Burke Channel on the right.

The January 2013 Where in the West was won by Ron Schott, not only for finding the names of the two major fjords shown in this photo, but also for identifying the mountain near the head of Burke Channel, which has two major peaks: Thunder Mountain, the highest, and Tzeetsaytsul Peak, somewhat lower. Ron also came up with the name of northern branch of Burke Channel, known as North Bentinck Arm.

I didn't know the location of this challenge when I posted it, but having seen it from the air, I knew it was between Anchorage and Seattle, that it was south of a more-or-less north-south-trending strait, and that it was much closer to Seattle than Anchorage and probably south of SE Alaska. This general knowledge gave me an advantage over anyone else trying to discover the location. I homed in on the location and found most of the names of the fjords and mountains on Google Earth (in labeled photos), but wasn't sure if the names were correct, so checked them on Wikipedia and GeoBC.

Google Earth image almost identical to my first photo. Dean Channel is on the left; Burke Channel is on the right.

It's true that the snow and clouds in the photos I shot complicated finding the location!

A photo zoomed in on Burke Channel.

Google Earth image with Burke Channel centered,
similar to the previous photo. 

Labouchere Channel splits to the left (north), connecting Burke and Dean Channels; the North Bentinck Arm heads straight away from us; and South Bentinck Arm goes off southward, barely visible in this view.

Zoomed in photo with the mountain in question in the distance.

It was  a little harder to get the right angle on Google Earth to zoom in on and identify the mountain that stood out in my view from the airplane, and it was hard from the photo to tell which side of the Burke Channel and North Bentinck Arm the mountain really was on.

Google Earth view, with the North Bentinck Arm of Burke Channel on the left and the South Bentinck Arm heading southward to the right.

The mountain really stands out in the Google Earth view (above). It's really on the north (left) side of North Bentinck Arm, and it has three smaller mountains nearly centered in front of it (west of it).

Google Earth image: Thunder Mountain is the highest peak in the center; Tzeetsaytsul Peak is the next highest peak to the left (north).

And there we have it: several fjords carved by glaciers, now partly (mostly) inundated with water, and one mountain with two main peaks. Thunder Mountain is highest at 2664 m (8740 ft); Tzeetsaytsul Peak comes in at 2575 m (8448 ft). Apparently, both Thunder Mountain and Tzeetsaytsul Peak were named for the thundering sound created by the movement of Tzeetsaytsul glacier.

Google Earth view of Tzeetsaytsul Glacier on the east side of Tzeetsaytsul Peak and Thunder Mountain; north is to the right.

Read about the Bella Coola area (Bella Coola is at the head of North Bentinck Arm) at the Bella Coola Blog.

A few Geological References:
Gehrels, George E., and Nevine D. Boghossian, 2000, Reconnaissance geology and U-Pb geochronology of the west flank of the Coast Mountains between Bella Coola and Prince Rupert, coastal British Columbia: Geological Soc America, Special Papers, v. 343, p. 61-76. Abstract at Refdoc.fr.

Mahoney, J. B., et al, 2002, Structural geology of eastern Bella Coola map area, southwest British Columbia: Geological Survey of Canada, Current Research, 2002-A10, 9 p.

Smith, D. J., and Desloges, J. R., 2000, Little Ice Age history of Tzeetsaytsul Glacier, Tweedsmuir Provincial Park, British Columbia: Géographie physique et Quaternaire, v. 54, no. 2, p. 135-141.

Stowell, Harold Hilton, and William C. MacClelland, eds., 2000, Tectonics of the Coast Mountains, Southeastern Alaska and British Columbia: Geological Society of America, Special Papers v. 343, 389 p.

A few Geographical Links:
Dean Channel location - at GeoBC

Fitz Hugh Sound - Wikipedia

Fitz Hugh sound location - at GeoBC

Labouchere Channel location - at GeoBC

North Bentinck Arm location - at GeoBC

South Bentinck Arm location - at GeoBC

Thunder Mountain location - at GeoBC

Tzeetsaytsul Peak location - at GeoBC

Where in the West: January 2014

I won't mention exactly how long it's been since I posted a Where in the West (or the one and only Where in the North), because I don't have the means to look it up right now (I'm writing this without an internet connection). Suffice it to say that it's been quite a while.

The photos below are of snowy, mountainous country with fjords and -- for additional location-enhancing info -- with a particularly high mountain in the background. As I write this, I know only the general location: somewhere between Anchorage and Seattle.

Where in the West (WITW) always features a location in the western part of the northern hemisphere. Be the first to identify the location -- hopefully the fjords and a mountain or two have names -- and if you can find out a bit about the geology (hint: glacial?), all the better.

Two fjords.

Zooming in on the fjord on the right in the first photo, from a slightly different angle, with a fairly tall mountain near its head.

Zooming in on the high mountain, slightly off-center to the left, with the fjord now nearly out of the picture on the left.

This should be easy to find, and sorry, no prizes.

Mt . Jefferson from the Air

I thought I'd try posting from my new mobile device, using a photo I snapped the day before Xmas while en route between Reno and Seattle. I see I'm going to have to go online with my computer to check the draft and maybe make changes, because I don't like the Blogger app's method of determining my location -- I can't seem to enter the actual location of the phone, I'm only able to choose from nearby places. Also, I can't tell where the photo will end up in the post.

Mt. Jefferson from the air.

So, it turns out that the photo ends up being too large for the blog space, and it was crammed up against the text, which I normally might prefer having below the photo. Possibly I can use the online webpage to create a draft or post, rather than the Blogger app.

Update from the Lake and AK, and a Tribute

When I arrived at the lake late last month, the aspen tree towering over our house was glowing brightly with intense yellow and gold to orange colors, brighter than any I remember seeing before. I'm sad to say I didn't take any photos of this phenomenon, satisfying myself with a couple nice views of the tree, and busying myself around the place with various projects.

Sometime during the morning or afternoon of October 28th, all the leaves from our aspens fell almost all at once, when the wind picked up in front of an incoming Pacific front. Later that evening, I learned that sometime LFD commenter, Alaska Al, had died.

Alaska Al has, between the years of 2008 and 2010, commented on 12 posts and has been mentioned in 6 (the latter somewhat overlapping with the former). More importantly to me, he was one of my major sources of early inspiration, inspiration that led me eventually to become a geologist. His inspiration was mentioned in a few posts, especially these two: Accretionary Wedge #18: How did I Become a Geologist and Where it All Began. Besides being an inspiration for my love of rocks, minerals, and all things geological, he was most likely the source of my seemingly built-in North Arrow (see the second linked post).

Alaska Al, besides these things, has had some photos published in this blog, and has been the source for other photos of mine, particularly photos of certain rocks and minerals. His hand lens is shown here; his field Brunton here.

Mt. Foraker (right) and Denali (left) seen from the hills above Anchorage in early November. Alaska Al had much better photos of Denali than these! The Mountain (as it's called up there) will always remind me of him.

The almost record late first snow fell a few days after I took the photo of Denali.

Thanks to all who have already voiced and sent their condolences via various media.

Slickenside Ridge #3

Coming up Slickenside Ridge past the last little slickenside, we came upon this whopper.

It's hard to tell from this photo, but fractured, brecciated, and slickensided dike rock on the far side of the fault plane is juxtaposed against more dike rock, which is what I'm standing on to take the photo. The fault is dipping more or less to the east, and the slickenlines are almost straight downdip (slightly oblique).

A closter view of the lower part of the slickenside.

An even closer view of the lower part of the slickensided surface.

Using the the direction of some of the steps in the slickensides in these photos, I deduce that the motion is normal, with the east or outcrop side down with respect to the west side. This direction would be expected in a Basin-and-Range setting, but the observed steps don't face uniformly upward, so I can't be sure of my interpretation without further work (offset of beds across the fault would be ideal).

We also noticed a nearby cross-cutting fault of minor displacement running about east-west, offsetting this fault and the faulted dike-dike contact by a few feet. Apparent offset across this cross fault was south side to the east (the fault was poorly exposed and dip direction wasn't obvious).

View of "Dike Hill" across Water Canyon.

We made it up to the notable first juniper tree, and stopped to look across the canyon at the dikes, which were blogged about here, here, and here.

We viewed the hill again a little higher up, from this little shadow created by an outcrop of  quartzite.

We then hiked up to our final outcrop and this view of Winnemucca Mountain (on the left beyond the town of Winnemucca) and the Santa Rosa Range (the bluish mountains on the far right).

Our hike wasn't over, though...