Accretionary Wedge #38: Back to School and Beyond

This month's Accretionary Wedge theme, as described by Anne Jefferson at Highly Allochthonous, our host, is "Back to School." The theme is fairly broad, with topics or questions for geology students, geology professors and geoscience teachers in general, industry folks like myself, and all geoscience enthusiasts.

First of all, I'd like to encourage everyone who gets into geology to follow your own path, wherever it may take you. If you are the sort of person who likes to plan things out ahead, do so; if you like to follow your nose, do that and don't look back.

Some people have asked me what industry needs or wants. I can only attempt to speak for the mining and minerals exploration industry, and can't speak at all for the petroleum or environmental side of things. What we "need" in the mining industry isn't necessarily anything a student of geology can plan on. Things change. If you want to aim in our direction, do get into it for your love of geology, your love of minerals and ore deposits, and your love of discovery. Discovery is what we do. Or, get into it for the wonderful opportunities to study complex structure that you will find at every mine and prospect. Structural preparation is often integral to the formation of ore deposits.

These questions,

If you are outside academia… what needs do you see for the rising generation of geoscientists? What skills and concepts are essential? Are there skillsets that we aren’t doing a good job of imparting on students? How important are things like communication and quantitative skills versus specific knowledge about rocks/water/maps? If you could go to a group of undergraduate geosciences majors and give them advice, what would you tell them? What would you tell their professors?

made me think of a few things. So follow a few random thoughts.

First, I don't know where geology in general is heading, what kinds of geologists will be needed in the future, or in what numbers. For mineral exploration geology, I do think that in the forseeable future a background in mineralogy and petrology will still be needed, along with increased need for experience in certain types of computer programs (various GIS and modeling programs). Some of these programs can only be learned on the job or through short courses.

Field experience is valuable, and will hopefully remain so, otherwise we will end up with a generation of modelers who have never looked at what they are modeling, something a sane world should not want. Although I've seen hints of this type of thing happening here and there and every now and then, senior-type geologists have been, so far, stepping in to keep things on track.

The need for good communication skills can never be understated. Today, a lot of on-the-job communication is done by cell phone and email, but knowing how to write a good report, long or short, is quite valuable, a skill that is often overlooked by geologists, a skill that could often be improved upon. At the very least, you will have to be able to communicate to management — people who are not always geologists — why you need the money, why your recommendations for next year should be funded. This communication will often be both written and verbal, the latter being given to groups in slide presentations.

When I taught Op Min and Petrography/Petrology (including all or most of the basics of the non-lab portions of those classes), my co-T.A. and I required "Rock Reports" about rocks and their accompanying thin sections, mostly to let students practise their writing, and to help them realize they would most likely have to write similar short, descriptive to interpretive reports or memos on the job. We graded down for misspellings of rock and mineral names, and we graded down for left out mandatory rock-report sections (I don't remember what format we used). Spelling is now easier, perhaps, because of Word and Google; good sentence construction is corrected only approximately and often incorrectly by Word.

A thesis is a good place to get some practice writing in the standard scientific format. I recommend seeking out someone who will give good editorial feedback.

Another thing that comes to mind is all the black box type of data collection and data creation tools that are available now, including portable XRFs. These devices in particular remind me of the tricorders used on Star Trek. Point the thing at a rock, and it will tell you all you need to know.

Well, maybe. It will tell you something. Will it tell you how much gold is in the rock? Probably not, or at least not unless you can already see the gold, or unless the gold is present in ore-grade amounts. (1 ppm Au is often ore grade; cutoff grades at heap leach mines can go as low as 0.003 to 0.005 ounces per ton, which is about 0.10 to 0.17 ppm gold, way below any XRF detection limit I've seen so far.)

Anyway, the point I'm working towards is that a good geologist will not be out in the field just collecting numbers with any type of device or black box, although we certainly do that with portable XRF devices, PIMAs and TerraSpecs, and various types of geophysical surveys. A good geologist will need to know when the numbers don't make any sense and why. And you will need to know what those numbers mean and what you might do with them.

For example, if you are going to believe a tricorder that tells you you've just discovered the next Mother Lode, but you don't know how to recognize common and less common associations — minerals such as fuchsite, types of structures including veins, faults, and suture zones, and general and more specific rock types such as greenstone and grey ore — you might be disappointed when chemical (real) assays come back. You will sometimes be disappointed looking for new ore deposits, anyway, but relying on any kind of black box with no way of evaluating the results it hands you is a sure guarantee of disappointment.

So, I say, learn the basics, which include rocks and minerals, and learn basic field mapping skills. Especially learn how to find out things you don't know. Ask questions, try to find answers. Learn to be an observer of all things, and learn to look for things that are unusual, things that might seem out of place but are there anyway, and things that might be there but are obscure or hidden by other more obvious features, textures, or structures. Becoming a keen, trained observer will hold you in good stead through your entire geological career, and in life, no matter where you might go.

UPDATE: Accretionary Wedge #38 is now up at Highly Allochthonous!

Marathon Summer Summary

It was a busy summer, and now with fall here, I'm once again about to go back for another work stint, which for me will involve working about 18 days in a row, depending on a few unknowns. Last month, for various reasons, I wasn't looking forward to going back to work after my days off; this month I'm merely a bit tired.

In the middle of my typically long work stints, if I feel I've gotten into a bit of a rut, I will often have to renew myself, usually by refocusing my mind, sometimes by something as simple as a hot bath (no hot springs are currently handy). A little burnout or rut development here and there is normal. What has been somewhat atypical this summer is the intensity of our days off, my 10 or so, MOH's 7. I usually spend about one day (sometimes two if I'm lucky) getting ready for days off by catching up on home paperwork and chores, by getting laundry done, and by running a few errands. Then, off we go. The where is usually a great place, and although the where sometimes involves chores of other kinds, the where always involves some needed relaxation. This summer has included two major trips, Alaska and a camping expedition to Wheeler Peak; these trips have been rewarding, enjoyable, relaxing, and offtimes intense. The comings and goings related to these trips — and to smaller trips like one earlier this summer and one earlier this month — always involve getting ready, and the return always involves unwinding from the trip and getting ready to go back to work, often with more paperwork and chores, more laundry, and more errands, giving the whole several days a symmetry of sorts.

These last four months have felt time or event crowded to me, with every day off for both of us seemingly scheduled in advance. Oh yes, we have had time to stop in Middlegate, time to ride our mountain bikes, time to hike to the Pony Express Station (maybe twice!), time to stand in the river and fish, and time to stare deeply into several campfires. We've been fortunate in these things, and in having opportunities for travel, even when some of our travel has been done to accomplish chores and repairs of various kinds. We have also been fortunate in having two jobs, and two cars in which to get to those jobs. Our jobs start at different times of the day; we sometimes pass each other on the road, one coming home from work while the other is going. We wave at each other or flash our lights.

—————

The other week, my truck broke down in front of our little house, fully blocking one of the roads. After trying a few things and getting out the shop manual — hurriedly, because we didn't know what we were going to do if we couldn't get the thing started and dusk was threatening — we determined that the fuel pump, located inside the gas tank, was kaput. I called the emergency number of the place that usually works on my truck; the owner recommended a towing service. I called them, they recommended another outfit. That guy came over immediately, pulled my truck onto his tow truck while neighbors watched, and hauled my malfunctioning truck off to the auto shop. He dropped the truck and keys there (after hours), and delivered the towing bill to my insurance agent the next day. Two days later (a colleague drove me to work and back while I was sans truck) I had my truck back. Yes, it was the fuel pump.

———

A few days or a couple weeks later, while out camping miles from anywhere but Baker, a town of minimal services — card-reader gas station, a couple motels, a place to get showers, a place that sells firewood for camping, and an operating cafe-bar with small general store of the mini-mart variety — the other car, our Prius, broke down in a way that left it somewhat driveable, driveable only because of its strange hybrid system. We finally determined, after replacing most of the coolant, that the "fan" belt to the water pump had broken or come off. The Prius is not an easy car to work on without a full lift, and it has very tight spaces around most of the parts that one might want to work on, including the belt. We were able to coast it down to Baker without it overheating, and with me driving another vehicle loaned to us by our campmate-SIL. We pulled the Prius into the card-reader gas station, drove the other vehicle over to the cafe-bar. Baker has no cell service. No place near Baker has any usable cell service whatsoever, although I got sniffs on the mountain above 8500 feet. We were able to use the landline at the bar to call the number of my auto shop (which I had on my not completely useless cell phone), and were able to find that they were probably the only place for hours that could work on a Prius. So we called the same towing company, met the tow truck by the Prius a couple hours later, and had the car dropped at the auto shop. We drove SIL's vehicle back to camp.

Now we have a whole campfull of gear, ours and SIL's, and one vehicle, when it took two fully loaded vehicles to get the gear and the three of us to camp. We left with SIL the next day, the day she was planning on leaving anyway, picked up my truck at our little house, drove back to camp, and stayed an extra day! The luxury of having an extra day! And the luxury and good fortune of having the vehicles to pull this thing off! (We weren't as overscheduled as I thought, it turned out.)

We stayed overnight, packed up camp the next morning, drove in and unpacked, then picked the Prius up at the shop. Yes, it was only the one belt, the one running the water pump.

—————

It has seemed like a bit of a marathon summer, perhaps fall will be more steady-as-she-goes.

Banned Books Week Meme

It's Banned Book Week today through October 1, and Dana at En Tequila Es Verdad has, as is her wont, created a banned book meme. Her list is from here, her rules: "I've highlighted the ones I've read in bold. Feel free to do the same, my darlings - and do treat yourself to some delicious literary contraband this week."

1. Harry Potter (series), by J.K. Rowling -- maybe one or two
2. Alice series, by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor
3. The Chocolate War, by Robert Cormier
4. And Tango Makes Three, by Justin Richardson/Peter Parnell
5. Of Mice and Men, by John Steinbeck
6. I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, by Maya Angelou
7. Scary Stories (series), by Alvin Schwartz
8. His Dark Materials (series), by Philip Pullman
9. ttyl; ttfn; l8r g8r (series), by Myracle, Lauren
10. The Perks of Being a Wallflower, by Stephen Chbosky
11. Fallen Angels, by Walter Dean Myers
12. It’s Perfectly Normal, by Robie Harris
13. Captain Underpants (series), by Dav Pilkey
14. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, by Mark Twain
15. The Bluest Eye, by Toni Morrison
16. Forever, by Judy Blume
17. The Color Purple, by Alice Walker -- saw the movie
18. Go Ask Alice, by Anonymous
19. Catcher in the Rye, by J.D. Salinger
20. King and King, by Linda de Haan
21. To Kill A Mockingbird, by Harper Lee
22. Gossip Girl (series), by Cecily von Ziegesar
23. The Giver, by Lois Lowry
24. In the Night Kitchen, by Maurice Sendak
25. Killing Mr. Griffen, by Lois Duncan
26. Beloved, by Toni Morrison -- saw the movie
27. My Brother Sam Is Dead, by James Lincoln Collier
28. Bridge To Terabithia, by Katherine Paterson
29. The Face on the Milk Carton, by Caroline B. Cooney
30. We All Fall Down, by Robert Cormier
31. What My Mother Doesn’t Know, by Sonya Sones
32. Bless Me, Ultima, by Rudolfo Anaya
33. Snow Falling on Cedars, by David Guterson
34. The Earth, My Butt, and Other Big, Round Things, by Carolyn Mackler
35. Angus, Thongs, and Full Frontal Snogging, by Louise Rennison
36. Brave New World, by Aldous Huxley
37. It’s So Amazing, by Robie Harris
38. Arming America, by Michael Bellasiles
39. Kaffir Boy, by Mark Mathabane
40. Life is Funny, by E.R. Frank
41. Whale Talk, by Chris Crutcher
42. The Fighting Ground, by Avi
43. Blubber, by Judy Blume
44. Athletic Shorts, by Chris Crutcher
45. Crazy Lady, by Jane Leslie Conly
46. Slaughterhouse-Five, by Kurt Vonnegut
47. The Adventures of Super Diaper Baby, by George Beard
48. Rainbow Boys, by Alex Sanchez
49. One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, by Ken Kesey -- saw the movie
50. The Kite Runner, by Khaled Hosseini
51. Daughters of Eve, by Lois Duncan
52. The Great Gilly Hopkins, by Katherine Paterson
53. You Hear Me?, by Betsy Franco
54. The Facts Speak for Themselves, by Brock Cole
55. Summer of My German Soldier, by Bette Green
56. When Dad Killed Mom, by Julius Lester
57. Blood and Chocolate, by Annette Curtis Klause
58. Fat Kid Rules the World, by K.L. Going
59. Olive’s Ocean, by Kevin Henkes
60. Speak, by Laurie Halse Anderson
61. Draw Me A Star, by Eric Carle
62. The Stupids (series), by Harry Allard
63. The Terrorist, by Caroline B. Cooney
64. Mick Harte Was Here, by Barbara Park
65. The Things They Carried, by Tim O’Brien
66. Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry, by Mildred Taylor
67. A Time to Kill, by John Grisham
68. Always Running, by Luis Rodriguez
69. Fahrenheit 451, by Ray Bradbury
70. Harris and Me, by Gary Paulsen
71. Junie B. Jones (series), by Barbara Park
72. Song of Solomon, by Toni Morrison
73. What’s Happening to My Body Book, by Lynda Madaras
74. The Lovely Bones, by Alice Sebold
75. Anastasia (series), by Lois Lowry
76. A Prayer for Owen Meany, by John Irving
77. Crazy: A Novel, by Benjamin Lebert
78. The Joy of Gay Sex, by Dr. Charles Silverstein
79. The Upstairs Room, by Johanna Reiss
80. A Day No Pigs Would Die, by Robert Newton Peck
81. Black Boy, by Richard Wright
82. Deal With It!, by Esther Drill
83. Detour for Emmy, by Marilyn Reynolds
84. So Far From the Bamboo Grove, by Yoko Watkins
85. Staying Fat for Sarah Byrnes, by Chris Crutcher
86. Cut, by Patricia McCormick
87. Tiger Eyes, by Judy Blume
88. The Handmaid’s Tale, by Margaret Atwood
89. Friday Night Lights, by H.G. Bissenger
90. A Wrinkle in Time, by Madeline L’Engle
91. Julie of the Wolves, by Jean Craighead George
92. The Boy Who Lost His Face, by Louis Sachar
93. Bumps in the Night, by Harry Allard
94. Goosebumps (series), by R.L. Stine
95. Shade’s Children, by Garth Nix
96. Grendel, by John Gardner
97. The House of the Spirits, by Isabel Allende
98. I Saw Esau, by Iona and Peter Opie
99. Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret, by Judy Blume
100. America: A Novel, by E.R. Frank

I recommend all the (few) books I've read on this list. All the rest warrant checking into, at the very least.

From About Banned & Challenged Books on the ALA website:

...Free Access to Libraries for Minors, an interpretation of the Library Bill of Rights (ALA's basic policy concerning access to information) states that, “Librarians and governing bodies should maintain that parents—and only parents—have the right and the responsibility to restrict the access of their children—and only their children—to library resources.” Censorship by librarians of constitutionally protected speech, whether for protection or for any other reason, violates the First Amendment.

Four Years Ago: Spencer Hot Springs, Kingston Summit, to Fallon

I'm going to depart a little from my usual "X Years Ago Today" format and go with this post, a few days late, which follows on from my 9-21 Newark Valley post of last year. That way, I don't have to wait one more year!
9-21-2007: After driving south from Highway 50 east of Austin onto old Highway 8A, now Nevada S.R. 367, we stopped at Spencer Hot Springs and soaked briefly in a lower tub, one just below and west of the main spring. It’s a tub that MOH and I hadn't been to before, although it’s possible that I camped next to it a number of years ago while at the springs with NJ&O. The tub was well set up and was at a good temperature.

From Spencer, we drove to old Highway 8A and then south to Kingston Canyon.

View of the Toquima Range from Highway 8A.

We're looking across Big Smoky Valley toward the Northumberland caldera, with the wide, flat-topped mountain in the far right being Mount Jefferson, the sixth highest peak in Nevada, with the third highest prominence.
We wound through the small village of Kingston, driving by the rundown cabin I lived in back in '79 and '80, and by the land-uphill, takeoff-downhill dirt airstrip. The road meanders through town and then into Kingston Canyon.

The Kingston Canyon road, a good graveled road, then goes through and under willows and cottonwoods, past a small lake or two, past a campground, a couple fishermen, and an old ranger station.

Up ahead, the road switchabacks up to the pass.

Just past the ranger station, the road crosses Kingston Creek, shortly thereafter making a broad turn to the northeast. After the turn, the road abruptly steepens to switchback through a rocky section, 4WD usually (always?) required, to the 8660-foot pass between Kingston Canyon and Big Creek Canyon.

View northward from the pass between Kingston and Big Creek Canyons.

The road then descends less abruptly and with gentler turns into the southern high reaches of Big Creek Canyon—a long, north-south canyon full of aspens, scattered quartz boulders, abundant sagebrush, steep slopes, and a creek stocked with trout.

Quartz-vein boulders littering the west slopes of the 11,000-foot-plus Toiyabe Range ridgeline.

One of the larger quartz-vein boulders.

Old ore bin in upper Big Creek Canyon.

After passing Big Creek Campground, we drove out of the canyon onto the western slope of the Toiyabe Range above upper Reese River Valley.

Sand Mountain.

We then drove forthwith to Fallon, stopping only at Middlegate Junction to get a soda and snack. Middlegate Junction, as is often the case, was suffering a horrendous dust storm due to strong winds coming north up the valley from Gabbs. Wind was blasting Highway 50 at a perfect 90º angle. Farther on, sand was spraying from Sand Mountain, making life miserable in the RV city sitting at its base.

We got a room in Fallon that night, then went for a fine Mexican dinner at a little cantina south of the main drag (Highway 50). The chips and salsa were excellent; the waiters and waitresses were dressed in black and white outfits like tuxedos. We had first dined there many years ago after retreating from a subzero winter trip to Spencer Hot Springs. The temperature in Big Smoky Valley had been -18º F, and amidst unknown electrical problems, a moonless darkness, and a foot of snow, the heater in the camper wouldn't kick on. Fallon was the closest place for repairs on that earlier trip; it was a welcome stopping point four years ago.

Field Trip Report: Locked Out while Looking at Breccia

It was about a million years ago during the first couple years of my field geology experience, probably toward the end of a summer or maybe it was early fall. A field trip was concocted to show some of the immediate mucky muck types around a property I'd come to call my own — a huge claim block centered on one of the major Tertiary calderas (Tertiary then, Paleogene now) of central Nevada — although I wasn't on the ground or anywhere near it when the discovery was made (nor was I there when the caldera formed way back in the early Oligocene). The guys (all guys except for me) were mucky mucks to me at the time, although at least a few of them probably didn't think of themselves that way: my boss, my boss's boss, and some new guy with distinct mucky muck potential who would later go on to run exploration departments and such.

We drove up the main dirt road, with me leading in my burgundy Bronco, a company truck that had been assigned to me that year. At least one other field vehicle was following me, maybe two or three. The truth is, I ran more than one field trip up that same canyon over the course of three or four years, showing various people around the area for various reasons, and the many field trips blend together in my mind. Consequently, I don't remember exactly who was on which field trip, save for a key few people on a few key trips.

I was nervous; maybe the boss was riding with me, perhaps he was in his "Boss Mobile" (not exactly the phrase we used) behind me. I didn't want to go too fast or too slow. I didn't want to hit rocks or ruts, I didn't want to slide sideways around curves or in any other way look like a foolish or inexperienced young geologist.

I slowed down as the caravan I was leading approached our area of particular interest: a volcanic breccia, possibly a breccia pipe. I pulled over to the left side of the road; everyone else pulled in behind me. At that point, we all jumped out of our various vehicles, suited up with Filson vests (if we didn't already have them on), grabbed rock hammers from beneath seats or from backs of trucks, and crossed the main wash northward over to the cliffy bluffs exposing the breccia. It was quite an enlightening field trip for me, with lots of proclamations made about what should be found in breccia pipes as opposed to flow breccias, and gradually some determinations were forthcoming. The matrix of the breccia, highly siliceous, dark, and very fine-grained, was hot when the breccia formed. It had plastered itself onto the breccia fragments such that one could hardly separate fragment from matrix. Some possible sedimentation in the upper part of the main exposure was noted, leading thoughts towards more than one eruptive or explosive event, with some settling downward into the proposed pipe. Flows going outward from the vent or pipe were identified; a thick flow breccia near the vent thinned laterally to one main one and a couple or a few thin ones above it.

Samples were grabbed: hand samples of one of the best breccias in the world (well, in Nevada at least). Everyone wanted a large chunk of the breccia matrix, which contained small chunks of fragments grading downward to rock flour. Large chunks of matrix were hard to come by: all large chunks, when broken, revealed giant fragments only thinly coated with matrix. I'll dig up some pictures sometime, although my memory is much better than the pictures I took a couple years back, or maybe all the best samples are in personal collections made that day, or housed in unknown warehouses.

We walked back to the trucks. Oops! I had left the keys to my Bronco in the ignition and had locked the doors. (Many field trucks are left with keys in ignitions, windows rolled down, and doors unlocked just to prevent this type of occurrence, and because dirt roads in Nevada are generally considered safe, or were back then, from truck stealing.) I was quite flustered and embarrassed, and it looked like the boss thought I was a complete idiot. The new guy, who would become a longtime friend and colleague, and later an exploration manager, immediately started looking around the side of the road and wash area and, voila!, came up with some sturdy wire. Without saying a word, he walked over, bent the wire into the right shape, slipped it under the rubber of the driver's side wind wing, hooked it over the little metal pin that was designed to be used to open and close the wind wing from the inside, and pulled hard. That broke the mechanism that would keep the wind wing shut and in a "locked" position. The door handle or window crank could then be accessed; the the door was unlocked and opened.

Busting the wind wing locking pin made it impossible to get locked out ever again. One or two of the field trip participants admitted it was one of the first thing they would do upon getting a new vehicle: bust the wind wing locking mechanism. We don't have wind wings on trucks anymore for that very reason.

It was a lesson I never forgot: I sometimes busted the wind wing pin on new company trucks preemptively, even though I'm not prone to leaving keys in ignitions, and I always had sturdy wire easily accessible in the back of the truck. And yes, I have used that trick at least one or two other times, whether on my truck or on someone else's.

Related Posts:
Friday Field Photos #3
In the Field
Friday Field Photo #4
Drilling Stories: Getting Started at Northumberland
The Unlikely Gradational Stratigraphy