Final Fieldwork

Well, folks, we did it! Today, we completed our last fieldwork day here in good 'ol blazing hot, Middle of Nowhere, Glendale, Utah. And what a day it was: we began by collecting a few samples and making some measurements at a road-cut just east of Glendale. We manged to complete this section quickly and efficiently, so the day was off to a good start. But, as the sun continued to rise, our luck began to fail us. 

Re-thinking Talus Slopes

The day's plan seemed simple enough; after leaving the road-cut, we intended to drive out to Stewart Canyon, an area we had not yet investigated.We figured that this would be a long, but easy, hike, and then we could document fractures along the canyon walls of a more complex area. But problems arose quickly, when the nice dirt road we'd been following ended at a bit of a cliff. By peering carefully over the edge, we discovered that the actual vertical cliff-face was only about 6 feet tall. Below that, a large talus slope led down as far as the eye could see. Still, all of this seemed "hike-able" from our vantage point, so we began to climb down. After crawling down the short vertical cliff, we found the talus to be at a steeper angle of repose than we'd estimated; it was hard to stand up without sliding several feet down-slope. It was quickly decided, after a unanimous vote, that the trail (or lack thereof) was impassable, and we decided to return to the car; we'd hiked all that way with no exhilarating reward.

Re-evaluating the talus slope

Back up the slopes we went, to find the car. Although there are some who enjoy hiking just for the views, we had come for the structural geology, and we were carrying large, heavy packs full of tools - we were a bit perturbed at the turn of events. By the time we reached the car, morale was low. Since we still had lots of daylight left, we re-grouped and decided to try again, this time back at Red Hollow Canyon, where we began our fieldwork a week earlier.

Plan "B"

So, plan "b" went like this: at Red Hollow Canyon, we were going to take core samples and hand samples of the rocks we'd seen earlier. To get core samples, we packed a large drill, which was a modified gas-powered chainsaw with 10 gallons of water to cool the drill bit. This motorized tool would allow us to get cylindrical samples of rock. These cylinders would eventually be turned into slices so thin that light passes through, which can then be analyzed under a microscope. 

Out to the trail we lugged the big drill, along with water tank to cool it, only to find that the chuck on the drill was full of sand and wouldn't close. Yet again, our plans were foiled! We decided that, even without the drill, we could go on and collect hand-sized samples. Therefore, while Ben went to the hardware store, to try to fix the drill, we, budding geologists, began our second hike of the day.

From where we began our hike, it was easy to see the cliff we needed to reach in order to take a hand sample. "This will be easy," we all thought. But then, about five minutes into the hike, we hit the trail we needed to ascend: a steep, 70% grade slope of loose sand. Undeterred, we trudged and slogged up and up. The going was incredibly slow, but we, after 20 rest stops, finally reached the outcrop and took our samples.

Meanwhile, we got word on our hand-radio that Ben had fixed the drill and was taking core samples in another part of the canyon. Since we were finished, some of us went to go help Ben, and although that meant another hike, we were eager to go, since it wasn't a sandy trail. 

We finally located him, and with the core samples in hand, and we acted on our burning desire to get back to the luxury of our campground and have dinner.

So, that's it! That's the last story from the field. Tomorrow, we will spend the day organizing, backing up data, cleaning, and packing, and when things inevitably do not fit, we'll re-pack. Then, early on the morning of July 1, we will head back to Trinity University, where our lab work will begin. 

We hope you've enjoyed our tales from the field, and if we ever get the chance to meet, we'd love to hear your impressions. Hard-bound copies of our stories will not be available, but feel free to embellish and re-tell our stories to family and friends.

-The Budding Geologists.

Field Tip of the Day: "Rock families" -When you're stuck in the field for weeks at a time with a small group of people, be sure to develop inside jokes and bizarre references to common culture.  For instance, when hiking in the field, we commonly checked under large rocks to make sure there weren't any beasties to surprise us.  However, we were occasionally surprised when a small rock peeked out beneath the boulder; inevitably, one of us would quietly murmur, "Oh, my...that rock had a child..."

You Thought We Were Just Hiking and Climbing on Rocks, Didn't You?

How Many Rocks Can You Measure?

We've been out here for eleven days. Surely we've seen every single rock out here by now, right? Well, sometimes it feels like it, but around each corner, there's always a new rock to sample. Still, you might be wondering, "what have we accomplished after all this time?"

Let's start with the basic workflow of our field days. Most of our mornings are spent hiking out to cliff-like exposures of fractured sandstone. Once we've arrived, we set to work: starting from one end of each cliff, we stretch a long tape measure from one end of the exposed rock to the other, in order to measure how close each fracture is from one another. This is a bit trickier than it sounds, since there are often many fractures, each angled all different ways, amid bushes, trees, cacti, mountain lion dens, snake holes, and boulders. In addition to this awkward dance with the tape measure, we also record the dip and dip-direction of each fracture using a Brunton (pronounced with a heavy German accent, as Brrruhntun) geological field compass . The dip is simply the angle of the fracture in comparison to a horizontal plane. The dip-direction is just the compass direction in which the angled surface of the fracture faces. So, to record each fracture, we have the awkward tape dance, then we have to scramble up and down the slopes in order to find good surfaces to measure with a Brunton compass. All the while, we have to record the measurements we've obtained, of which there are many (many, many) in a little, pretty, yellow field notebook. 

Most of our time in the field is spent this way, so that by the end of our time here, we will have mapped out several cliffs between fault segments in several different field regions. The idea is to digitize and plot the data, in order to see how the intensity, or the number of fractures, varies as you move closer to the main segment of the Sevier fault. Because fractures and faults are generated by stresses in the earth, we can use these data to document how the stress field varied over time as the fault system evolved.

But Hasn't This All Been Done Before?

The Sevier fault has been studied by a few other geologists, whom we have researched and cited in preparation of our own work. But, an in-depth analysis of the transfer zone (the fractured areas between main fault segments) is ours for the taking. As such, we are all excited to start really looking at our data. Now that we've cataloged over 325 individual large-scale fractures on the ground and from the air (using the drone), our field time is almost up. For the next (and last) one-and-a-half days in the field, we will just be finishing up sample collection and drone work. Then, we will really dive into the data, looking at what we have and what sort of questions we might be able to propose and answer with all of the fieldwork.  

Peering over a cliff at Red Hollow Canyon

Field Tip of the Day: "Beautiful Breakfast" -Waking up at sunrise, to go into the field, can be very difficult. But, it is a well-documented fact that a good breakfast can make the process much easier. Unfortunately, when it's early and you're tired, even making breakfast can be too much to handle. Therefore, you might as well just give up and have breakfast for dinner. We've used this trick several times ourselves, and the result is both a delicious dinner and a pre-made breakfast for the next day. 

Glendale, a Visitor's Guide

A Day in the Geologic Life

I suppose I should give you an idea of what our days are like during the times we aren't wailing on rocks with hammers, measuring hundreds of fractures, or fending off mountain lions. In order for you to imagine us in our free time, you need to be able to picture Middle of Nowhere, USA. Or, as it is officially referred to in the Rand McNally Atlas: Glendale, Utah. Founded in 1862, this one lane, desert town now boasts a massive population of 350 people, and throughout our stay here, we have only seen about 2 of them. I think it's just too hot in the afternoons, when we're out and about the metropolis. 

Here we are, documenting deformation in the cliffs just outside this town, staying in the most luxurious campground west of the Mississippi. From highway 89, our campground's sign shines like a beacon to all weary travelers: "Bauer's Canyon Ranch RV and Campground/Free Wifi/Clean Toilets/Showers/Shady Campsites/Ice/Satellite/Hookup, etc.," a list of amenities to lure customers like us. We appreciate the privacy and peace afforded by the camp; we've taken liberty to sprawl our several tents, a pop-up shade canopy, several picnic tables, and a large camp stove across multiple sites. What's more, we have a pantry. Trinity University provided us with a small, eight-foot cargo trailer, which we have packed with cereals, veggies, fruits, and cookies. Lots of cookies. The few other campers that stop by are clearly jealous of our setup, and occasionally tell us so by speaking loudly in Italian as we try to sleep. 

Each day, after we are done doing some seriously serious geologic work, we plop ourselves into the Trinity University branded Suburban, and head back to Bauer's Canyon Ranch RV, which by now looks like the Hilton. Once we've arrived, we race towards the Clean Showers touted by the road-side sign. Sure enough, they are truly clean, and so after quick showers, we are once again ready to work, though this time it's in shorts and t-shirts as we lounge around camp to compile data, discuss geology, and formulate hypotheses. Whenever we need to take a quick break, to take our mind off of any challenge, we simply say "hi" to the neighbors; directly adjacent to our camp is a field of horses and mules, which seem to enjoy watching us as we work.

First-rate accommodations in Glendale 

Ten Million Star Dining

Eventually, our thoughts to to dinner, so we fire up the 'ol Coleman Propane Grill, and get to work, chopping, dicing, and slicing. Each of us has a talent-defined role in the camp kitchen; Caroline does the stove-work, since she is an excellent chef. She is a tough and tenacious master of the Coleman stove, occasionally flambeing our dishes. Madison, Charley, and Ben act as sous chefs, since they are speedy and efficient at cutting and prep-work. Meanwhile, Curtis carries out his role as joint-supervisor and dish-washing master. After dinner is cooked to Caroline's satisfaction, we compile the result on our campsite's main picnic table, and dig-in, only pausing to make a joke, ask a geologic question, or get seconds; all the while, the stars begin to rise overhead and light the sky with ten million white sparkles. 

After dinner, we do our dishes, clean up camp, and by then it's bed time. Under the bright lights of the moon and stars, which still refuse to be drowned-out by Glendale's two traffic lights, we brush teeth, prepare tents, and then slowly drift off to sleep, dreams of rocks, hiking, Schmidt Hammers, and drones filling our nights.     

Next-door "Neigh"-bors

 Field Tip of the Day: "Selfish Singing" -When you are camping and wish to have the entire shower to yourself, there are several ways to ensure that you get the privacy you need. The most efficient method is to sing. Loudly. It also helps if you are at least three steps off-key.

Hammer Time and other Adventures

I've never met Schmidt, but he makes a nice hammer.

Since yesterday was a day off, waking up early this morning was bound to be difficult. Add in the  small caravan of excited Italian tourists that pulled into the campground and partied all night, and this morning was certainly bound to be rough. So, after we finally managed to eek out some sleep amidst  accented laughter and shouting, we all awoke too quickly, predisposed to be grouchy and tired. But Ben, somehow, always manages to stay upbeat and full of pep. And this morning, in particular, he was beaming:  he told us, "it's hammer time."

Of course, Ben was referring to the Schmidt Hammer, a tool that looks more like a large magic wand than a hammer. Relying on Newton's Third Law (simply put, every action has an equal and opposite action), this perplexing device is used to measure the compressive strength of rock; basically, you push the end of the wand into the rock, and after a spring-loaded "pop," a digital screen in the handle displays a value. This value, measured in mega-pascals (one of which is equal to 10 bars or 145.038 psi), can vary widely depending upon the surface you choose to poke: poke an intact, flat surface on the rock, and the value will approach the actual compressive strength of the rock. Poke some lichen on the surface, and the value will be too low. Poke at an angle slightly off perpendicular, and your value will be too low. Thus, many of your values will be too low. So, to be most accurate, you take the highest reading as the "closest-to-true" value. Of course, you still have to record all of the other values, you know, for posterity.

Preparing to collect samples

And so, as we scrambled about, poking rocks with our expensive scientific poking poker, our morning grogginess wore off, and we were able to enjoy the day. And, although we commandeered Ben's Schmidt Hammer, Ben, with the help of one of us, was quite content to continue flying his "eye-in-the-sky" geologic drone, scanning the fractured cliff walls at Red Hollow Canyon. By the time Ben was done, we had finished poking rocks and collecting hand samples, so it turned out to be a day of immense fun and perfect timing, despite the rough start.

Now, if you've been following our on-going adventures, you may be asking what happened yesterday. Well, to tell you the truth, we took a day off to look at more rocks.  What can I say? We're geologists. 

Making friends: the easy way.

So, on our day off, we took a drive to Zion National Park. In the park, you can find some of the world's most spectacular exposures of cross-bedded sandstone. These angular striations, which we call cross-beds, are solidified evidence of ancient sand dunes. During the Jurassic (around 180 million years ago), the entire region was teaming with huge, roaming (and sometimes vicious) sand dunes. Today, what's left of this prehistoric land is recorded in the towering red and white cliffs of Zion National Park.

Therefore, Zion was the perfect place for a group of geologists to vacation. We expected to see some rocks, and we were not disappointed. However, we hadn't quite expected the flood of people that swarmed about us at the visitor's center. There, behind what we estimated to be about twenty to thirty million people, we stood in line, waiting for a shuttle bus that would take us to a trail called The Narrows. This place was supposed to be the kind of thing you'd see in National Geographic: giant, towering sandstone walls on your right and left, only five feet from your outstretched arms, and golden sunshine warming you as you enjoy true desert solitude and wet feet. 

Our group enjoying a moment to ourselves in The Narrows

Eventually, we clamored aboard the bus, packed in with about one half of Earth's population; when we arrived at The Narrows trail-head, we found the other half, sitting around looking confused and sweaty. Then, as if following some unheard call, pulses of people would pour down the trail and into The Narrows, which was geologically spectacular (National Geographic all the way), but as busy and bustling as a shopping mall in downtown LA. 

Although there was no solitude to be found within a hundred-mile radius, there turned out to be a benefit to hiking with all those people: no matter how hard you tried or didn't try, it was always easy to find and make friends. Take Curtis for example. Though a useful member of our geologic party, Curtis is a bit eccentric, possibly bordering on weird. But, due to the numerous personality types present within the national park, Curtis was statistically bound to make friends. And sure enough, he did. At some point or another, an elderly Chinese man noticed some Chinese writing on Curtis's t-shirt and was intrigued. "Ni zai zhong guo xue han yu ma?" the old man asked our group. "Did you go to China? Do you speak Chinese?" Well, turns out Curtis is more eccentric than we had previously thought, because he quickly responded in Chinese! "Yes, I have studied," he seemed to say. But, the rest of us were lost. "What in the world is going on?" we wondered, as Curtis began to draw a crowd of about twenty elderly Chinese tourists, each asking him endless, seemingly unrelated questions in Chinese. 

We listened to their unintelligible conversation for about fifteen minutes, before context clues began to hint at what they were saying. "yi san ling ba eight seven five," Curtis said, switching in and out of translation. The Chinese travelers seemed to understand, because they each pulled out their phones and started typing. He was sharing his email with them! He had managed, in the span of about fifteen minutes, to make about ten new friends! All the while. the rest of us sat there, only wondering what the conversation had been about.

When all was said and done, on the car ride out of the park and back to camp, curiosity got the best of us. "What were you guys talking about that whole time?" we asked. There was a brief pause before he answered: "all sorts of things, I suppose. First traveling, then geology, then China, and ultimately the meaning of life and love." At this point, we didn't know what to say. I mean, how can you connect with so many people on such a wide variety of subjects? I guess that's just the magic of our National Parks:  anything is possible. 

Light Painting in Red Hollow Canyon

Field Tip of the Day: "Don't Disappoint" -When you find yourself in a leadership position, especially one in which you dispense wisdom about working in the field, don't let your followers down by forgetting to provide a tip of the day.  

True Happiness and Sitting Horizontally

The Magnificent Elkheart Cliffs

When you are outside, off the trail, with just you and your friends, that's true happiness.  At times, it seems like the five of us are sharing the same thoughts.  Today, we settled into the field research, functioning as a true team:  a day spent at a new field site, the Elkheart Cliffs, passed by in what seemed like an hour or two (it probably helped that the geology and the view were spectacular).  Running perpendicular to a segment of the Sevier fault, a small, dry waterfall provided the perfect shaded background for our work.  Slick, banded sandstones, the kind you see for sale in tourist shops throughout the west, surrounded us as we made measurements, took photos, and drew sketches.  Honestly, it's a bit spiritual.  I mean, we're not chanting out here or anything, but even the sternest of us have to admit:  there's something spiritual about this place. 

In-sync fieldwork

Sunrise over the Elkheart Cliffs

"I'm not laying down, I'm just sitting horizontally."

But, even when you're in an amazing place, if you spend enough time in the sun, you may wear down.  Each day, one person tends to fall victim to the "it's really hot out, and I want to take a little nappy-nap" epidemic.  Today, that person was Caroline.  Though she seemed strong and peppy in the morning, by noon, she was exhibiting all of the symptoms:  inability to swing a rock hammer, the telling of pointless stories, and the overwhelming desire to immediately sleep wherever shade is present.  Luckily, Caroline wasn't too far gone, and the affliction is easily treated with water and dreams of structural geology.  So, while the rest of the students documented faults, we let Caroline nap and dream of propagating fracture systems beneath a sandstone overhang.  Then, after just minutes, she sprang back to life, no doubt restored by her dreams and the miraculous healing properties of the Elkheart Cliffs.

The long and winding trail

A beautiful spot

Proper Ostrich Technique

Tip of the Day:  "Hot Head" - Perhaps you've heard about how ostriches bury their heads to keep cool.  As it turns out, the exact same technique works for budding geologists.  So, if you find yourself getting a bit warm in the field, do what the ostriches do.  See photo above for proper technique.

Geology from 30,000 feet . . . ok, 500 feet.

Flying High

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be able to fly? Well, occasionally, us geology students find ourselves staring out of a window, asking ourselves, "What do these rocks look like to the birds?"

Today, we got to find out. With Ben piloting and the rest of us monitoring and taking notes, we recorded lots of aerial video from a drone. Besides the fact that the clips were just down-right cool looking, they also served a scientific purpose. After processing the video, we should be able to create a 3-dimensional computer model of the fractures exposed in the rocks. This data collection and processing workflow is at the cutting-edge of geology tech; people have explored similar "structure-from-motion" technology, but so far, it has not been extensively used. Essentially, we undergraduate students are getting involved in high-level research with amazing technology in a geologically significant region; we are lucky.

Discussing the drone

Taylor Teams Up

And so, we spent the day split into two teams. While one group flew the drone, the other group hiked out to the cliffs on the opposite side of the canyon, taking reconnaissance notes. While all of this was going on, a visitor from Trinity University joined us in the field. Taylor Stakes, from the marketing team at Trinity, was dispatched to record our work, so he trogged along-side us, snapping pics and filming us working. The entire day was spent in this way. Afterwards, in camp, Taylor joined us for a delicious pasta dinner. As the pasta roiled and broiled, we all received a structural geology lesson from Ben. We learned all about the nuances of geologic terms, which tend to be extremely specific, scientific, and precise. Hopefully, tomorrow, we can use some of these new terms in the field, as we examine our next site. 

Groundwork to accompany the drone work

Field Tip of the Day: "Remove Before Flight"- Drones are sensitive pieces of equipment, so make sure that when you chuck them as hard as you can, you aim well. You might only get once chance at a good take-off.

Want to find out where we've trudged over the last few days?  Check out our geologic wanderings here.

Slots, Slots and more Slots

A Magical Morning:

This morning, our fieldwork began as usual, but quickly became something more magical. After picking up where we left off yesterday, our group quickly began to experience what others come from all around the world to see: true slot canyons. In fact, Utah is famous for its slot canyons and there are over 1,000 slot canyons in the state, as well as the world's longest known slot canyon (which extends into Arizona).

Mapping in the slot canyon

Extensive fractures

Geologically, these narrow, tall canyons are formed when rainwater, running through a set of fractures in the rock, erodes downward over time, causing the slot to deepen without growing much in width.

The slot we entered is an up-drainage feature of Red Hollow Canyon, so we are able to continue taking fracture measurements inside the canyon walls. The slot itself extends for about 900 feet into the bright red Navajo sandstone, before coming to a 20 foot tall vertical cliff; frayed rope is the only way up. Since taking measurements is tedious and slow, it took us several hours to walk these 900 feet. Then, once we examined the sketchy rope, we declared it impassible and decided to have lunch instead.

Everyone Loves Lunch:

Field lunches are quite possibly the most exciting thing a young geologist can do; not only does lunch mean a chance to eat Oreos and Nutter-butter cookies, but it also gives us students a chance to grill Ben with endless geology-related questions. At the beginning of "let's all ask Ben tough questions" time, we give him some easy ones, such as: "Why do most of these fractures propagate in a similar orientation?" Next, and before Ben has time to eat much of his lunch, we start asking the harder questions, such as: "How might an in-depth analysis of slickenlines be used for characterizing original stress fields?" So, basically, we try to outpace his Geology knowledge; we always fail to do so. Finally, by the end of lunch, the questions tend to become more metaphysical in nature: "Ben, how would you know when you've found true happiness?" Still, Ben is always ready with an answer. For us students, working under Ben's guidance is a pleasure, not only because of the depth of his field-related knowledge, but also because he sometimes seems just like one of us. He is one of the most personable and youthful teachers you'll ever meet; sometimes he seems just as eager as the rest of us to scramble up a crumbling cliff simply for the fun of it.

Despite his wisdom, Ben is just one of us.

Some of the last accessible fractures

There's Always a New Problem:

After lunch, Ben decided it was time to call it quits. By then, we had finished mapping all of the accessible fractures, so we returned to the field vehicle and drove to a new location, in order to scout it out. As it turned out, the road we had planned to used to access the Elkheart Cliffs was fenced-off, so we spent the evening in camp trying to find a workaround.

Field tip of the Day: "Canyon Connections"

Field Tip of the Day: "Canyon Connections" -when you and your friends venture deep into a slot canyon, it can be hard to see one another. So, instead of relying on visual communication, try playing some 1970's disco music. This way, as long as the last person in your group can hear well enough to sing along, you know your entire group is near one another. 

Shimmying, Scrambling, and Scaling

Field Stink:

Rocks generally do not small bad, so when our group noticed a very bad smell early in the field today, we began to wonder what Ben ate the night before. I mean it was bad! But, Madison soon found the culprit: an aged deer carcass that seems to be more evidence for the existence of the mountain lion. Since biology is not our party's strong suit, we continued past the deer with nothing more than a gander and some speculation on how a mountain lion might eat a geologist. Still, throughout the rest of the day, we each tended to jump whenever a twig snapped under boot.

The majority of the morning was spent in an offshoot of Red Hollow Canyon, measuring fractures within a beautiful red sandstone slot canyon. In the narrows of the slot, we took turns shimmying, scrambling, and scaling towards each successive fracture. At the end of the offshoot, our reward was a beautiful view of the white bleached zone of the Navajo sandstone meeting the vibrant reds below.

Striking geology at the end of the offshoot.

Geologic Stress:

After a quick lunch spent swapping mountain lion stories, we went back to work and mapped out one of the more complex fracture zones. In this part of the canyon, the orientation of many of the fractures appeared drastically different from what we had measured up to that point. We think this is because we crossed a segment of the Sevier fault, and this fault is acting as a barrier to stress-transfer within the rock on either side of the fault. At this point, it may be necessary to do some explaining: "stress" can be thought of as the forces acting upon a rock when it is underground. When fractures form (beneath the ground), they propagate along the plane that has the least amount of force holding the rock together. This means that the fracture orientations we are seeing directly relate to the stresses causing the fractures. The point is, we are starting to get an idea of how stress is transferred near this segment of the Sevier fault.

Noting fracture orientation

Looking Ahead

By the end of the day, we have mapped most of Red Hollow Canyon, gathering data across the main Sevier fault segment in this area. Now, we are preparing to finish our mapping within Red Hollow Canyon, after which, we can begin to use aerial drone photography to document inaccessible fractures higher up on the canyon walls. We are all excited to combine the traditional geological techniques we've been using with high-tech tools, such as drones.

Click this link to see a map of our paths from the last few days.

Hiking in the main drainage of the Red Hollow Canyon

Tip of the Day: "Meal-replacement Spaghetti"

Tip of the Day: "Meal-replacement Spaghetti" -if nutrition bars are too pricey for your expedition, a bag of plain, cold spaghetti will suffice; not only is there no need to worry about the high sugar content of name brand nutrition bars, but with a bag of spaghetti, your snack pack will be safe from would-be thieves, since no one in their right mind would want to steal this snack.

The Mountain Lion Day

Day 3 started with with a mini-lesson from Ben about geologic stress and strain. Understanding these concepts are important to us, because they relate to the formation of the fractures and faults which we have been observing in the field each day. While the mathematics of these two concepts can be quite tricky, we kept our lesson simple, focusing on how stress and strain might have controlled the cardinal orientations of the fractures we've been measuring.

Notes from our mini-lesson.

After our lesson, we returned to the field, to continue our measurements. Naturally, after several hours of fieldwork, it was time for a bathroom break; as we took turns hiking a role of toilet paper over to a secluded area, our expedition stumbled upon a set of large paw prints in the sand. After some debate, we decided that these tracks were from a mountain lion, since that area was far from the beaten path.

Mountain lion print...spooky

Soon, we put our big-cat fears aside and got back to work, spanning measuring tapes across cliffs and scaling crumbing boulders to measure fracture orientations. By the end of the work day (which is usually dependent upon how hot it is outside) the group returned to camp, promptly settling into recording and processing data. By the end of today (day 3), we have measured more than 90 fractures, spanning a linear distance of over 400 meters, all measured by hand tape. Soon, we hope to be able to start understanding the underlying processes controlling these fractures. First, though, there is a lot of data crunching to be done.

Data processing...

"Beating Bugs"

Tip of the day: "Beating Bugs" -in the field, gnats tend to congregate around the highest point on a hiker's body. Therefore, to beat them, you can trick them into thinking you're much taller than you actually are!

The Adventure Continues

Photoshoot in the field

So why are we here?

In order to understand how earthquakes propagate and fractures form in rocks, geologists like us analyze these features in the field. Here in southern Utah, there is spectacular exposure of fractures associated with a major fault system. This area affords our research squad the perfect opportunity to document these fractures, so that we can better understand how rocks behave under stress.

So why does anyone care?

Fractures associated with major faults can be used to better understand the size and distribution of earthquakes. In addition, fractures in rocks increase the flow of fluids like water, oil and natural gas in the Earth. Furthermore, where water circulates through fractures, deep in the Earth, its temperature increases and may return energy to the surface - yay geothermal energy!

What we’ve done…so far:

Our research is looking at how stress associated with major fault zones, such as the Sevier fault here in southern Utah, impacts the adjacent rocks. We have been spending our first couple days in the field measuring the distance between fractures and characterizing their orientation relative to one another. We have all had great time climbing rocks, smashing poorly cemented sandstones for scientific inquiry and sliding down Jurassic-aged sand dunes.

Measuring fracture orientation

Sitting on the steep slope of a Jurassic-aged sand dune

The rocks guide us home

Tip of the day: "Boots, not Butt!" -when sliding down a steep slope, be sure to slide on your boot soles, not your pants; the friction produced during a controlled slide is easily enough to rip a pair of field pants and expose your field tighty-whities.

The Adventure Begins

The big day is here! Over the next 4 weeks, the Keck Utah research crew will keep you updated with our research exploits in the field and in the lab. 

On June 15th, Charley Hankla (College of Wooster) and Madison Woodley (Mt. Holyoke College) arrived at San Antonio International Airport and spent the evening getting to know Caroline McKeighan and Director Ben Surpless (Trinity University) and preparing for the next day's trip.

On the 16th, Charley, Madison, Caroline and Director Ben Surpless (Trinity University) enjoyed a beautiful, yet uneventful, drive from San Antonio, TX, to Albuquerque, NM.  The next morning, Curtis Segarra (Trinity University) hopped aboard, and we finished our journey to southern Utah. After setting up camp, the crew enjoyed a delicious quesadilla dinner during which they discussed the next day's field research.

Our delicious quesadilla dinner included salad and refried beans.

The next morning, after a quick breakfast, the team took time to discuss methods and tools used to measure faults and fractures in the field. At the field site (Red Hollow Canyon), the students put these tools to work to measure the intensity and characteristics of faults and fractures along the canyon wall.

Curtis, Ben, Charley and Madison measure fractures in the Navajo sandstone.

Madison gazing at the bright red Navajo sandstone.