Saturday, January 16, 2010

More Muncho

I'm planning to clear out a few draft posts from last year, and also to hopefully finish up some mini-series. I'm starting by taking a leap back to the dark ages of 2009 - February, that is. I had nearly completed a series I started about the northern Canadian Rockies, centered around Folded Mountain and Muncho Lake. I'm going back there again, this time to a location on the Alcan Highway about 7 miles or 11 km south of the south end of Muncho Lake: the pullout at Mile 426/km 686, Alcan mileage (current mileage). I think this is the "Sawteeth" pullout, which has a sign that may or may not explain the geology of the Sentinel Mountains. I can't actually follow the explanation, so I won't show you the sign! (I mean, it doesn't make any sense to me.)

This oblique southeasterly view of the Sentinel Mountains from Google Earth shows the general area from a little higher than roadside level; that's the Alcan, AKA Highway 97. The topography of the same area, looking straight down and with the north arrow cocked to the right, can be seen here in The Atlas of Canada.
The picture I took looks like this; it corresponds with the two central peaks from the Google Earth image, with just a little of the pyramidal-shaped range-front hill on the far left.
Drawing on a composite set of photos, I came up with this pen-and-ink interpretation, which shows the general flat-lying nature of the sedimentary horizons away from the range front and to the east. The beds are then tilted into a dip slope right along the range front, forming a set of triangular-shaped facets, which I described more completely earlier. If you look carefully at the photo and the sketch, you'll see that they match up imperfectly - the sketch makes the farther hill appear a little larger than life. It is a cartoon.

The Folded Mountain and Muncho Lake Series:

You'll find references, in-post links, more photos and images, and more about the Alcan and general geology in the previous posts.

Friday, January 15, 2010

Mid-Monthly Art: Northern Lights

Northern Lights is a watercolor painting I did a few years back, inspired by the atmospheric phenomenon of that name. The phenomenon is more properly called aurora, polar aurora, aurora borealis in the northern hemisphere (northern lights), and aurora australis in the southern hemisphere (southern lights). I've never seen any as colorful as the lights in my painting, and green without red is usually more common. I've seen the northern lights as far south Reno and Virginia City, Nevada, and have seen them in Alaska.

Aurora at Wikipedia - some colorful, presumably public domain photos.
Aurora FAQs at UAF's Geophysical Institute.
Aurora on Worldbook @ NASA
Aurora images at NASA
Aurora over Idaho: APOD 18Dec2006 - colorful red and green aurora, a copyrighted photo.

Copyright © 2010 Looking for Detachment.
Original watercolor Copyright © 2002.
All Rights Reserved.


Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Caliente Camp Part 8: Getting Out of Pennsylvania Canyon

While driving through Pennsylvania Canyon last summer, I was keen to find some really good examples of the soft, loose sand we had gotten stuck in 30+ years ago. Well, guess what? The 2005 flooding of the area, along with whatever else had happened to the wash in 30+ years, had firmed up the roadbed. The worst places were loose but not too loose: though the sand pushed me around some, especially in turns, it would have been difficult to get stuck in 2WD, not that I really tried.

The wide, sandy area that snagged our truck in 1978 looked a lot like the picture below, a picture taken more than 1.5 miles downstream from our getting-stuck site. Back then, the central driving area of the wash was all sand, the soft, sandy area was much wider than our truck tracks, and the sand was free of any stabilizing plants. It was the kind of sand that makes walking uphill difficult, and difficulty in walking- whether uphill or down, whether through mud, snow, or sand - is a good sign that one might need 4WD, not that we stopped and checked.

Pennsylvania Canyon still contains considerable sand, but most of it is peripheral to the active channel (AKA main roadbed) and elevated above it - as in this photo where sand piles can be seen on the right, and sand ledges or partially eroded banks can be seen way to the left (click to enlarge). It looks like flash flooding over the years has removed a lot of sand and caused about two to five feet of downcutting.

*** *** *** *** ***

What would Pete and I do, now that one of our two trucks was stuck in the sand? Well, first off, notice that I said, "one of two." We were lucky enough to have two trucks, and one wasn't stuck! Whew!

Floyd was still in sampling mode and making his way slowly down the wash, so Pete and I set about seeing if we could figure out how to get the two-wheel drive truck upstream through the sand. Pete had a great idea: we would go to the prospect area we had checked out earlier and see if we could find some rope. For some unknown reason, our trucks were not equipped with gear for getting unstuck. Maybe we could scrounge something.

We drove up the side drainage in our good, 4WD truck. All we found around the old mining camp was the spool of copper wire we had already noted, no rope. We debated the options. I felt uncomfortable taking what surely must be someone’s wire. We were, after all, not in any kind of dire straits: we had one perfectly good truck. We could drive it back to camp, get towing gear, and come back for the truck. But we were a little worried about wasting too much time or getting in trouble for getting stuck. We took the wire to use in lieu of a tow rope.

Our first couple attempts at towing the 2WD truck with the 4WD truck using the thick copper wire were pretty unsuccessful - we made a few feet each time before the wire stretched thin and broke. So we backed the good, 4WD truck down the wash until its back bumper was right against the front bumper of the bad, 2WD truck, then wrapped the copper wire tight around both bumpers, around and around several times. With the wire wrapped this way, it held as we made it slowly through the sand, until we were finally on solid ground. We still didn’t know if the crippled truck would make it up that last hill below the distant saddle, but we would have to give it a shot. With me driving one truck and Pete driving the other - the bad truck in the rear in case we had to ditch it - we continued up the main canyon, keeping our eyes open for the still sampling Floyd.

After meeting up with Floyd and helping him finish the sampling of his part of Pennsylvania Canyon, we drove both trucks up and over the saddle, down into the northern drainage, past Tepee Rocks, through Caliente, and back to camp. Stuart had walked into camp by the time we got there. We now had a truck that would not go into four-wheel drive, and the nearest Ford dealer was in Ely, a good two to three hours away. That truck sat in the Ely shop for several weeks before the right part arrived - they kept getting the wrong part from Salt Lake City. And it turned out that Stuart had not been at fault that one day in Kane Springs Valley - one hub had been put together backward at the factory, so repair was covered by warrantee.
A northerly view from below Ella Mountain Lookout, looking toward the next camp area near the Nevada-Utah border.

Related Posts listed at The Caliente and Caliente Camp Series.

Sunday, January 10, 2010

Caliente Camp Part 7: Getting Stuck in Pennsylvania Canyon

Shortly after the first truck misadventure of 1978 - with the helicopter still out of commision - four of us took off in two trucks for a kind of piggyback form of recon. From Caliente, we drove east up Clover Creek, entered Barnes Canyon from the north, drove past Tepee Rocks, then eventually crossed over into the south end of the large Ash Canyon drainage at the place I lost my way while driving through last summer. We finally arrived at a well-remembered saddle, the divide between the north-draining Ash Canyon and the the southwest-draining Pennsylvania Canyon.

From the saddle at the north end of the drainage, we looked down Pennsylvania Canyon toward the Meadow Valley Mountains beyond Elgin. We couldn't really see the day’s work laid out in front of us because a bend in the canyon blocked our view, but we could see a long ways.

We dropped Floyd off at the saddle - he would sample his way down Pennsylvania Canyon on foot, about 4 miles of drainage. We then drove down the steep upper part of the canyon in two trucks, into the main part of the canyon, heading toward a juncture where the remaining three of us would split up. This juncture was the turnoff I looked for but didn't find last summer, the place where the main road leaves the canyon. From there, Stuart and I would walk and sample one drainage each; these were between 2 and 3 miles in length and drained toward toward the main road south of camp. Pete would take one truck toward camp, sampling along the way; he would then pick Stuart and I up later in the day. We would leave the second truck in the main wash of Pennsylvania Canyon close to the point where the three of us split up, and Floyd would pick it up and drive it to camp at the end of his day.

On our way down the canyon, the three of us turned up a side canyon to look at some prospects. We dinked around a couple old mining cabins, inspecting them inside and out, a required exploration pastime. One shack showed signs of fairly recent use, signs that were verified by dates on the most recent newspaper and a wall calendar. We took mental note of all the miscellaneous supplies and gear strewn here and there, and found a large spool of shiny-new, thick copper wire. Then we moved on, making our way to the point where we would part ways.

Is it the hill in the foreground, or the hill going out of the next wash?

We left the truck for Floyd in the main wash, that large sandy area in the foreground of the Google Earth image, and then we drove up the side road in the truck Stuart and I had used the day before. Either right at the turn out of the wash or a short way in, we came to a steep hill that the truck couldn't climb. Our driver, Pete, backed down, Stuart and I got out, and Pete tried running the truck at the hill to get up as much speed as possible. The back tires spun: the truck clearly wasn’t in four-wheel drive, even though the transfer case was in 4H and the hubs had been rotated from free to locked. After several attempts and some miscellaneous head-scratching, we finally determined that the driver’s side hub really wasn’t in the locked position; not only that, we couldn't persuade it to go in, even with the judicious use of a rock hammer or two. The truck didn't have operable 4WD.

After we discussed our options, Stuart eagerly went on ahead to traverse and sample his drainage, starting from the bottom of the hill instead of the more convenient, and half-mile-away, top of the hill. Pete and I were left to deal with two trucks, one that had a useful 4WD option, and one that didn't. We turned the funky truck around and started back up the main road in the wide and sandy Pennsylvania Canyon dry wash. Maybe we could trade trucks and leave Floyd with this one; afterall, he wouldn't need 4WD to get back to our starting point at the saddle.

Uh, no. As soon as we got very far into the sand of the sand wash - soft, roiled sand had constituted the road for the last hundred yards at least - we were stuck. Both trucks had come down through the sand just fine. The damaged truck had come down in two-wheel drive without operable four-wheel drive - it would not make the return journey upstream through the sand.

To be continued...

NOTE: Most names in these stories have been changed, on the advice of dubious council consulted friends and colleagues, to protect the innocent other geologists and related field-demented posers.

Saturday, January 9, 2010

Indoor Flora and Fauna

At first, MOH and I saw this little spider-like being running around on one of the chocolate mint shoots, and we thought it was the teeniest, tiniest itsy-bitsy spider. To be fair, MOH saw this first, not me.
The web it was making when we first saw it.
Turns out these are several itty bitty spider mites, not the sorts of things one wants to have on plants.
Here's one of the little nasties up close; you can see not only the strange legs, but some of the little hairs coming out from its body.
Another view...
...and another enlargement. I googled "tiny green spider" and finally came up with photos of spider mites, at which point we went directly into eradication mode. These appear to be twospotted spider mites (Tetranychus urticae). Hopefully, they won't be too hard to kill. They suck the blood, I mean juices, of stems and leaves, and are generally undesirable.
Here's one hanging out on it's little web. Oh, so cute.