These days, I'm engaged in the lovely process of rediscovering the geologic record of Shenandoah National Park. This 'rediscovery' was prompted by the recent Virginia Geological Field Conference based at Big Meadows. While I wasn't able to attend in person (I was in Yosemite that weekend!), colleagues like Pete Berquist and John Weidner were there, as well as three of my Rockies students from last summer. They've all shared their perspectives on the conference with me, and John loaned me a copy of the field guide to the conference. This guide, authored by other colleagues like Chuck Bailey of William & Mary and Scott Southworth and Bill Burton of the USGS in Reston, makes for great reading. I'd link to it so you can read it too, but it's not online.

The guide led me to the revelation that there is a new geologic map of the park and the surrounding area that was published earlier this year by the survey. This map* is authored by Chuck, Scott, and Bill, along with their peers at the survey and other institutions. Why wasn't I informed? (Just kidding) It's a beautiful work of art and science. I'm having the NOVA duplicating services team print me out a copy this week.

The new insights offered by the map (and the VGFC field guide) include the fact that the oldest rocks in Shenandoah National Park are diverse and complicated. It used to be that geologists considered these rocks to be a granite gneiss called "the Pedlar Formation," which was intruded in places by younger granitoid plutons. Modern work in the park has revealed that it's more complicated than that. There are a dozen or more separate rock units comprising what the pros are now calling "the basement complex." These rocks are distinguishable based on texture, mineralogy, and age. (These newer, more precise ages are one of the key advances of recent work by John Aleinikoff of the USGS: the granitoids and their metamorphic successors have crystallization ages ranging from 1,183 Ma (+/-11 Ma) to 1,028 Ma (+/- 9 Ma).

I've updated my Shenandoah web page to reflect the new preferred terminology plus these new dates. More updates to come -- I've got many new tidbits of inspiration from reading the 100+ page write-up that accompanies the new map. The web page, like all of my web pages, is a work in progress. Nothing makes that clearer to me than a steaming helping of fresh science!

When I was out in the park last weekend, I found this new outcrop of the basement complex, which shows some of this intriguing diversity:


Annotated version:


The outcrop is on the hike over Bearfence Mountain, described (and mapped) in the new VGFC field guide. It's a granite gneiss, partially altered to unakite (the plagioclase and pyroxene in the graniotid reacted in the presence of water to generate epidote. A pronounced foliation is cut by no less than 3 separate sets of fractures, two of which are filled in with fibrous quartz, and another by something dark. The granitoid formed during the Mesoproterozoic Grenvillian Orogeny, and was deformed later in that same episode of mountain building. The fractures formed at some point after that: just when, I can't say. Vein sets 1 and 2 are infilled with apparently identical compositions, which would be consistent with them being contemporaries. Vein set 3 has something else lining its fractures. At first I thought it was just mildew, but Elli suggested some mineralogical possibilities. Vein set 3 does not show the same amount of dilation as the other two sets. Cross-cutting relationships show vein sets 1 and 2 cross-cutting vein set 3, which suggests I was too hasty in labelling them in my photo. "3" is the oldest; "1" and "2," despite their names, are younger. Maybe they're related to Neoproterozoic breakup of Rodinia, or Alleghanian mountain-building, or uplift? So many mysteries...

More to come on this topic, surely, as I get re-introduced to my local national park.
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* Southworth, Scott, Aleinikoff, J.N., Bailey, C.M., Burton, W.C., Crider, E.A., Hackley, P.C., Smoot, J.P., and Tollo, R.P., 2009, Geologic map of the Shenandoah National Park region Virginia: U.S. Geological Survey Open-File Report 2009–1153, 96 p., 1 plate, scale 1:100,000.

Labels: blue ridge, conferences, granite, igneous, metamorphism, national parks, proterozoic, shenandoah, structure

Here's an image of my new countertop, inaccurately described by the realtor as "granite":


It's not felsic, so it can't really be granite, but I'm cool with that. This is the countertop of my kitchen "island" in the new condominium that I spent the past week moving into. For the first time in my life, I'm a homeowner...

...Whoa*.

That's why it's been so quiet around here recently. But... got the internet hooked up today, so I should be back to geoblogging regularly soon.
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* You'll recall that buying a home was one of my resolutions for this year.

Labels: dc, granite, igneous

Here's a sample I collected along the road in the Sierra foothills when I was in California the weekend before last. It's a nice little hand sample of amygdules: vesicles (lava degassing bubbles) that have gotten infilled with mineral deposits. I just slapped it on the scanner along with a penny. Enjoy!

Labels: igneous, primary structures, volcano

On our hike to Grinnell Glacier this past July in Glacier National Park, I found lots of cool cobbles of float, mainly of the Mesoproterozoic metasedimentary rocks that make up the bulk of the park: the Belt Supergroup. One of these formations, the Helena Formation, is intruded by a diorite sill known as the Purcell Sill. It's a prominent rock unit showing up as a black stripe within the lighter-colored Helena Formation, exposed high on the glaciated walls throughout the park. Occasionally, you'll find pieces of it as float, and I noticed that the higher we climbed up, the more of it we saw. Here's one of my favorites among these pieces of the Purcell Sill:


This cobble shows beautiful slickenlines, small gouges into the rock as neighboring rock ground across its surface, along a fault. These physical gouges are decorated with a chemical accoutrement: the metamorphic* mineral epidote, which is a gorgeous grassy green.

Labels: faults, igneous, metamorphism, minerals, montana, national parks, proterozoic, structure

Went for a hike on the good old Billy Goat Trail last Sunday and saw this beautiful outcrop. I love it how every time I walk that trail, I see something new and blog-worthy. Here you see the metagraywacke of the Mather Gorge Formation getting squished and squeezed under conditions of partial melting. Granitic magma (light-colored rock) is leaking out, while the foliated mafic residue (schist chips) are getting strung out and boudinaged under conditions of mountain-building. This granite yeilds late Ordovician isotopic ages (Taconian Orogeny, ~460 Ma).

Seeing an outcrop like this reminds me of making cheese: squeezing the liquid whey (felsic magma) out from the solid curds (higher-melting-temperature solid minerals like those comprising the 'schist chip' boudins). As orogenic forces squeeze from the sides, granite oozes out the top.

I love that there are outcrops where this process is caught in freeze-frame: not all the granite escaped from its migmatitic source rock here; instead the process stopped before it was complete, and through the luck of uplift and exposure by the probing erosion of the Potomac, we get a glimpse of a fundamental process in making the Earth look the way it does. A single outcrop shows rocks that were oceanic sediments, then became metamorphic schist, and now are were transitioning to igneous granite! That's pretty wild. We have caught the rock cycle red-handed.

Labels: analogies, granite, igneous, maryland, metamorphism, piedmont, primary structures

(Parts 1, 2, 3 & 4 of this series...)

Today we'll look at some of the structural geology photos I took in Hanging Canyon, Teton National Park, Wyoming. These are all rocks of the Archean-aged Wyoming Terrane (or "Wyoming Craton"), one of the most ancient pieces of crust that make up the quilt-like North American continent. They include both metamorphic and igneous rocks that have been suffered enjoyed being deformed by tectonic processes.

Labels: archean, igneous, metamorphism, national parks, nova, structure, travel, wyoming

Parts 1, 2, & 3 of this series are at these links.

Today and tomorrow, I'll share some of the gorgeous Archean rocks that are exposed in Hanging Canyon, Grand Teton National Park, Wyoming. Today: the igneous stuff. Tomorrow: the structural stuff.

There were many pegmatite dikes that we saw along the hike. Here's a lovely one cutting across the metamorphic host rock:


A close up of some big muscovite "books" in the pegmatite:


A couple of parallel pegmatite dikes cutting across granite:


Here's the largest single feldspar crystal I've ever seen in the wild. The crystal starts to the left of my boot and continues for over a foot to the left of that. Its color varies between bluish gray and whitish. Where the left-most and most prominent blue stripe is, that's the edge of this monster megacryst:


Huh... Only four "igneous" photos... I guess I'll make up for that with tomorrow's structural geology post about Hanging Canyon... I have about forty photos of folds and boudins and what-not to share...

Labels: archean, granite, igneous, minerals, national parks, nova, structure, travel, wyoming

One of the highlights of this past summer's Northern Rockies field course was an afternoon set aside as a "choose your own adventure" hike in Teton National Park. Some students opted for Cascade Canyon; others climbed Blacktail Butte. Four of us wanted something really challenging, so we chose Hanging Canyon at the recommendation of my friend Amy Manhart, who lives in Jackson and knows the Tetons like the back of her hand.

We took a ferry across Jenny Lake along with the Cascade Canyon Crew, and then started climbing up. A thunderstorm rolled up Jackson Hole, with much ominous booming and lightning, but we didn't get hit with the storm directly. The climb was very steep, but we entertained ourselves along the way with a geological conundrum: We discussed how best to interpret a hypothetical piece of float that is half granite and half diorite: Is it more parsimonious to guess that the granite represents an intrusion or an inclusion? The implications for the relative dates of the two units are huge: if the diorite is an intrusion, it's younger than the granite. If the diorite is a xenolith (an inclusion) within the granite, then it's older than the granite. Consider the possibilities:



Ultimately, there's no answer to this question without finding an outcrop of the rock in situ, which is why it's entertaining to consider when you're slogging up a 2000 foot hillside. My co-instructor Pete Berquist and I upped the ante by each doggedly defending one of the two indefensible interpretations and sticking to it for the sake of argument. Pete was the xenolith man, whereas I came down fully on the side of the dikes. Our students Joel and Ken were "fortunate" enough to listen to Pete and I bicker about the relative merits of our favored interpretations. Rest breaks came whenever either Pete or I found a boulder along the hillside that showed evidence to support our position. We would stop to consider it, catch our breath, and the resume the uphill climb and the argument. The bad weather passed and the day was beautiful. We were unencumbered by the need to reach a conclusion or acknowledge the obvious: the best interpretation is that such half-&-half clasts "cannot be interpreted."

Here's Pete posing with an obvious dike (I forced him! Ha!):


Here's me posing with an obvious xenolith (Oh well, fair's fair...):


We had a similar ongoing "argument" on the trip about the merits of "Tertiary" versus "Paleogene." I think it keeps students amused to see their professors going back and forth over geologic ideas -- surely if these fellows spend this much energy and thought discussing some geologic question, it must be valid and important... ...right?

More on the Hanging Canyon hike tomorrow...

Labels: archean, geologic time, igneous, national parks, nova, structure, travel, wyoming, xenoliths

This is another photo from Saturday's hike. Unakite is rumored to be the 'state rock' of Virginia, though it's not in the state code. Regardless of its official status, it sure is a distinctive sight: An epidotized granitoid, unakite is identified by the distinctive pairing of pistachio-green epidote and pink potassium feldspar. There's some grey/purple quartz there too. In the mid-Atlantic states, it's only found in the Blue Ridge geologic province. Here, on the trail below Dark Hollow Falls in Shenandoah National Park, my friends and I encountered this lovely boulder of unakite bearing a vein of milky quartz.

The original granitoid was Grenvillian in age, about 1.1 billion years old. Presumably the metamorphism took place during Alleghanian mountain-building, between 300-250 million years ago. Unakite has been quarried in Virginia for use as a building stone, and can be seen as tiles on the first terrace of the steps leading from the National Mall up to the southern doors of the Smithsonian's National Museum of Natural History in Washington, DC.

Labels: blue ridge, dc, igneous, metamorphism, minerals, museums, smithsonian, virginia

The Crazy Mountains are a range of mountains in south-central Montana, north of Livingston:

In this Google Map, you can orient yourself from recent posts by finding Bozeman, the Gallatin Valley, and the Bridger Range down in the southwest corner.

The Crazys are an Eocene intrusion, (Ar/Ar dates of ~50 Ma), and they are beautifully expressed on a geologic map as a radiating series of dikes around two central blobs of intrusive rocks (quartz diorites, etc.: dark pink on the map):

These igneous intrusions penetrated the Livingston Group, a series of volcaniclastic sedimentary rocks of late Cretaceous to early Paleogene age (hot pink on the map).

The day before my students arrived in Montana this summer, Lily and I took a hike in the Crazys, entering in the northern part of the range. We saw some cool dikes exposed along the road on the way in. Here's me pointing out the contact between a subvertical dike of porphyritic andesite cutting across subhorizontal layers of the Livingston Group:


Annotated version of the same photograph:


And here's a close-up of the rock making up the dike; mostly fine-grained and gray, but with some lovely big euhedral plagioclase feldspars as well:


That's about it for the geology I saw in the Crazys. Our hike kept us mostly in the forest, so clearly I'm going to have to go back some other time and spend more time there!

Labels: igneous, montana, mountains, sediment, travel, volcano

Imitating the detail of a tartan plaid, perhaps?



These perpendicular cross-cutting dikes were observed by NOVA associate professor of geology Victor Zabielski on a trip this summer to Scotland. Thanks for sharing, Victor!

Labels: igneous, nova, scotland, structure

On my first day in Montana this summer, I borrowed Lily's Jeep and set off to look for petrified wood in the Tom Miner Basin, an offshoot of the Paradise Valley (which connects Livingston to Gardiner). Along the way, though, I stopped at Point of Rocks CKCK, and found some nice exposures of the lahar deposits of the Absaroka/Gallatin Volcanic Field. These Eocene-aged extrusions basically consist of a series of lava flows and volcaniclastics interlayered to a substantial thickness.

Here's a map of Point of Rocks:


Here's the view north from Point of Rocks:


Here's some images of the rocks exposed there: poorly-sorted, matrix-supported grey conglomerates that I interpret on the basis of the previous year's field notes to be lahar deposits:




I've got a big fat chunk of this stuff in the NOVA geology lab now -- thanks to Lily for giving that forty pounds of lahar a lift cross-country!

Eventually I made it into the Tom Miner Basin, an area of Forest Service land where there is some petrified wood exposed. There is an interpretive trail where people are specifically asked NOT to collect but of course people collect anyhow, so it's kind of lame, but there are some nice examples of petrified branches and what not, and some nice examples of reverse-graded-bedding in the lahar deposits.

Map of the area where the road ends (at a campsite) and the trail begins:


Reverse graded bedding:


You can climb up above the trail to some exposures of the volcanics which are harder to get to and therefore not picked-over, and with a permit you can collect a fist-sized chunk per person per year.

Here's a couple examples of petrified wood that I saw:




More volcaniclastics, this time showing normal graded bedding (coarse at the bottom, fine at the top):


And on the way out, I saw a nice example of a couple of rugose corals cross-sectioned in a boulder of presumably-Mississippian-aged Madison Group limestone:



It was a nice first day in Montana! More photos to come...

Labels: fossils, igneous, montana, plants, volcano

You should check this out. Nice images. Two and a half minutes in length.

Thanks to Kevin Mattingly for alerting me to this tidbit.

Labels: california, energy, igneous

A funny coincidence transpired a couple of weeks ago. I posted about "Amygdules!" and so did Andrew. We were both so excited by these cool primary igneous structures that we added an exclamation point to our post titles. Over the weekend, I found some more. These are in Dark Hollow, in Shenandoah National Park, above the falls. Pretty sweet, eh?



I hereby give them two exclamation points. Let's see if anyone else can come up with two-exclamation-point-worthy examples of amygdules...

Labels: basalt, blogs, blue ridge, falls, igneous, primary structures, proterozoic, shenandoah

On Saturday's Bedrock Geology of Washington, DC class, my students and I had the good fortune to stumble upon two geologists out doing field work: Tony Fleming, lead author of the geologic map of the Washington West quadrangle, and Steve Self, senior volcanologist with the Nuclear Regulatory Commission. They were out looking at the Sykesville Formation at Chain Bridge Flats, assessing a potential reinterpretation of the unit.

Fortunately, they were willing to take a little time and discuss their findings with the students. Here's a couple shots of Steve talking to the group:




I joined Steve and Tony in the field yesterday (Monday) too, looking at some outcrops on the other side of the river, and trying to make sense of them. Fun stuff! More on that at a later date...

Labels: dc, field trips, geologists, geology, igneous, metamorphism, nova, piedmont, sediment, volcano

Amygdules (mineral deposits filling extrusive vesicles) in the Neoproterozoic-aged Catoctin Formation meta-basalt, Shenandoah National Park, Virginia.

Labels: basalt, blue ridge, igneous, primary structures, proterozoic

So, it's a month until my Rockies class starts. I've been encouraging all the students to get in shape, because the high elevations, rough terrain and multimile distances we'll be hiking in Montana and Wyoming could really kick an east-coast flatlander's arse. So we've scheduled a few training hikes to help everyone physically prepare for the Rockies experience. Last weekend, we did a 5.5-mile circuit up the steep Little Devil's Stairs trail in Shenandoah National Park. I was joined by five Rockies students + one of their kids. Here's a map of the loop we did:



Here's a few photos of the hike, and the geology we encountered along the way:



John poses next to some jointed columns in the Catoctin Formation, a Neoproterozoic rift-related series of flood basalts (subsequently metamorphosed during Alleghenian mountain building).


End-on view of one of the columns:


Overhanging cliff showing columns weathering out along jointed surfaces:


Bob poses next to a cliff, helping me demonstrate how difficult it is to take a well-exposed photo in the jungle of the Virginia hardwood forest:


A wiggle in some columns:


Jared thought these columns were better than the first ones he saw, at Old Rag Mountain.


Here's me with a fifteen-foot-long section of columns, indicating that the flow from which this boulder was derived must have been at least fifteen feet thick, maybe more:




But it wasn't all columns. There was also a lot of column-less massive Catoctin Formation, and some nice inter-flow conglomerates which are interpreted as stream deposits that developed atop a cooled flow before the next flow erupted. These conglomerates imply a reasonable amount of time passed between successive eruptions of the Catoctin flood basalts. The lichens obscure the rock, but note for instance the fingernail-sized chunk of greenstone an inch above my hand:


More chunks in the conglomerate:


And more:


Jared guards the way forward:


The view from the top:

Labels: basalt, iapetus, igneous, metamorphism, nova, primary structures, proterozoic, sediment, shenandoah, structure, teaching

I've been meaning to go check out the Soapstone Valley for years, but finally got around to it on Memorial Day. The park is a valley that shoots off to the east from Rock Creek Park, with an eastern terminus at Connecticut Avenue:



I didn't have far to walk before I found my first cobble of soapstone. It felt soapy in my hand, and was easily scratched by my fingernail. (Fingernail = 2.5 on the Mohs scale of hardness; talc = 1) I found it interesting that the soapstone cobbles had less algae growing on them than the other cobbles in the stream... Hmm. Because they slough off their outer layers more easily? Or because there's something chemical going on that prevents algae growth?


Why does anyone care about soapstone? Well, people who care about prehistory are interested in soapstone because it was easily carved to make various artifacts. As a geologist, I'm more interested in it because it's a metamorphic rock that implies an ultramafic protolith. In other words, as the various rocks that would become DC's bedrock were squished and squeezed and heated during Taconian mountain-building, one of the ingredients in the mix may have been a peridotite. As the graywacke around it metamorphosed to metagraywacke, the putative peridotite metamorphosed into soapstone.

The stuff I found in Soapstone Valley is a talc schist with porphyroblasts or relict phenocrysts of something dark and chunky in it:


Here's a close-up. The big crystals were dark green, like augite, but they had a texture that looked more like hornblende. Not sure as to their identity. I'll put one under the microscope later to try and suss out the relationship between the cleavage planes.


They're definitely mafic though! Here's an example where the large crystals are rusted out:


So there was plenty of soapstone float, but no bedrock outcrops. At first, I was in the highly foliated metagraywacke schist of the Rock Creek Shear Zone...


...but as I headed upstream I found boulders of the Kensington Tonalite, implying exposures of the KT further up the valley...


... and sure enough, that's what I found. This is the Kensington Tonalite, a late Ordovician granitoid.


Where I first crossed the contact, I thought it looked a little odd, and then a later look at the geologic map of the Washington West quadrangle (Fleming, et al., 1995):

Fleming, et al., list it as a sheared biotite tonalite of the Georgetown Intrusive Suite, which I guess explains its appearance as distinct from the Kensington Tonalite.

When I got up to the eastern edge of the park, I saw the source of the stream:


The valley widens out here, almost as if the rock is weaker... And where concrete has been poured (to stabilize the slope??) the underlying rock is etched away: it's the super-soft soapstone...


Here's a boulder of soapstone (my fingernail scratches it to demonstrate that it's soft):


Here's the geologic map of the area. You can see Soapstone Valley cutting an east-west swath across the strike of the structures. ("ss" means "soapstone"...)

My annotations on Tony Fleming's map (reference below).

Reference:
Geologic map of the Washington west quadrangle, District of Columbia, Montgomery and Prince Georges Counties, Maryland, and Arlington and Fairfax Counties, Virginia. Anthony H. Fleming, Lucy McCartan, and Avery Ala Drake. U.S. Geological Survey (Reston, VA), 1995.
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A quick tangent to note a milestone: this is my 700^th post on NOVA Geoblog. Thanks to everyone for reading. Looking forward to 700 more...

Labels: appalachians, dc, granite, igneous, metamorphism, minerals, ordovician, piedmont

Dear readers,

Here's a list of the samples I'd really like to have to show my students examples of the processes we discuss:

• A lava pillow (maybe a pillow basalt). Fresh would be best, so I could show the outer crust of obsidian, and the inner basalt. An ancient pillow would be second best.


• Boudinage. A nice hand sample of boudinage, maybe a granite dike in a shist? Or a sandstone stratum within a shale matrix? I feel like I should already have one of these, but I don't... All the good local examples are too big.


• Flame structures/ball-&-pillow soft sediment deformation.


• A komatiite sample.


• One of these. (Eubrontes track with radiating mudcracks, featured this morning on ReBecca's Dinochick Blogs)

I've been a good boy this year. Anybody got any spares they want to trade for some nice Skolithos-bearing cobbles? (...or something else we've got a local supply of?) I'll pay shipping!

If not, please alert Santa that I'd appreciate him filling my stocking with these goodies,

Callan

Labels: basalt, igneous, primary structures, structure, teaching

Yesterday, I was fortunate enough to be able to tag along on the University of Maryland's petrology field trip, to five locations in Maryland showcasing a variety of igneous and metamorphic rocks. I'd like to thank Rich Walker and Roberta Rudnick for allowing me to come along on the excursion, and UMD graduate student Ryan Kerrigan for alerting me to the trip's interesting rocks in the first place. They have a crew of enthusiastic students, and some cool outcrops!

Our first stop was in northern Maryland's Cecil County. Along the banks of the Susquehanna River, just upstream from the I-95 bridge, is an abandoned quarry of the Port Deposit Tonalite.

Here's Rich and Roberta leading us into the quarry:


UMD students examine the semi-overgrown outcrops of the tonalite:


Tonalites are kind of like granites, except they have only very low amounts of potassium feldspar. This particular tonalite has a magmatic crystallization age of 515 Ma (U/Pb in zircon) and a metamorphic age of 490-480 Ma (Rb/Sr in biotite). Close-up of the rock's texture:


ADDITION: Kim notes in the comments that I didn't draw an explicit connection between the metamorphism and the metamorphic foliation that is so prominent in this photo. She's right: The wavy linear pattern you see in this photo is produced by minerals aligned by differential pressure. Squeeze the rock "top to bottom" and you produce a foliation that runs "left to right."

On the basis of isotopic evidence, the Port Deposit Tonalite is interpreted to have formed as an igneous pluton offshore of ancestral North America, underneath an island arc in the Iapetus Ocean. Later, subduction brought the island arc into contact with North America, triggering the Taconian phase of Appalachian mountain-building.

Here's a closer look at the texture and mineralogy. You can see some k-spar present here, though this was not a common mineral to see at the outcrop...


There were some nice xenoliths present, indicative of the host rock into which the PDT intruded:


Here's a quartz vein cutting through the tonalite. You'll notice that the vein is emplaced approximately perpendicular to foliation, suggesting the same maximum stress which imparted the foliation also extended the rock parallel to the foliation place, opening up fractures that when then fill with the most mobilizable minerals available (in this case, quartz):


If you look closely, you'll see that the fracture which opened up in the tonalite to allow this vein to be emplaced has a ragged edge (not a clean break):


Next up: the Setters Schist...

Labels: appalachians, cambrian, granite, igneous, maryland, metamorphism, ordovician, structure, teaching, xenoliths

After the Garth Run high-strain zone and a night hanging out by the campfire at Heavenly Acres with the William and Mary Structural Geology class, the second stop on our Structural Geology trip was in Shenandoah National Park, looking at the deformed meta-basalt columns on the Limberlost Trail. Longtime readers of the blog have seen these unique (in my experience) columns before, in a post from last May.

This is an outcrop of the Catoctin Formation, a series of (mainly) basaltic lava flows that erupted sometime older than 565 Ma (only the youngest, rhyolitic layers have been dated, and evidence suggested that significant amounts of time may have passed between the eruption of each stratum of basalt deeper down in the stratigraphic stack). As the lava cooled, it developed cooling fractures that formed perpendicular to the isotherms. These fractures likely initiated at the top and the bottom of the flow, and propagated towards the middle over time.

Later, during Alleghenian mountain-building (~300 Ma to ~250 Ma, roughly), the rocks were subjected to greenschist-facies metamorphism, and were deformed. The basalt's consituent minerals re-equilibrated and reacted to become other minerals, most notably chlorite and epidote (both of which are green).

Here's John and Joe checking out the columns:


Exquisite! Even arrest lines on the side of each column are preserved. In an undeformed basalt column, these arrest lines would be perpendicular to the column edge. Here, they have a pronounced angular relationship, indicating the shearing of the overall column:


Bobby measures the angular shear along the length of the column:




Goofball professor poses with column:


Jay plays the column like an electric guitar:


We found some nice plumose structure too:


Finally, we evaluated the concentric rings of minerals filling amygdules (vesicles that had been infilled with mineral deposits after lithification) in an attempt to determine whether they could be used as strain markers, or whether they may have attained their ellipsoidal shapes due to stretching of the bubbles in the originial lava (i.e. like this) and then been infilled with minerals:




...and then we were off to Field Study Area #3...

Labels: appalachians, basalt, field trips, igneous, metamorphism, national parks, primary structures, proterozoic, shenandoah, structure, teaching

I took my Structural Geology students on a three-day field trip this weekend to examine outcrops in the Blue Ridge and Valley & Ridge geologic provinces. Here's a few photos of the team at our first (of four) field study areas, the Garth Run high-strain zone:

Examining the structure and taking strikes and dips:






Fabric elements cross-cutting one another:


Mylonitic fabric:


Foliation wrapping around a feldspar porphyroclast:


This is kind of interesting: a big pancake (oblate ellipsoid) of blue quartz, with a potassium feldspar in the middle:


And if you zoom in close, you can see that the feldspar porphyroclast is broken in the middle (along the plane of cleavage) with non-blue quartz filling in the gaps:


I think this blue quartz likely formed in the pressure shadow of the resistant feldspar porphyroclast during flattening strain, and eventually that feldspar began to brittlely deform, extending in the direction of minimum principal stress.

Quite a bit of variation across strike:


The students found some nice euhedral garnets too, though this was a block of float from upstream, and not intimately associated with the high-strain zone itself:


More tomorrow, from Field Study Area #2...

Labels: blue ridge, field trips, igneous, metamorphism, structure, teaching, valley and ridge

Ptygmatic folding is a style of folding characterized by an "intestine-like" appearance. The folded item (in this case, a granite dike) folds back on itself, and the cross-cut material (in this case, a schist) flows out of the way. In other words, there's a viscosity contrast between the relatively-stiff granite dike and the relatively-weak schist.

This particular ptygmatically-folded dike is in a boulder outside of the National Museum of the American Indian, in Washington, DC. That's a quarter at the top of the photo, for scale.

Labels: dc, igneous, museums, structure

Last weekend, I took a group of students, mostly from NOVA but also 3 from GMU, up to hike Old Rag Mountain in Shenandoah National Park.

Here's a Google Map showing the terrain (and trails, which is a cool new addition to the already cool Google Maps):


The crew discusses debris flow deposits in the forest on the way up the mountain:

photograph by Charlie Corrick

The first spot where we get a nice view out over the valleys below:

photograph by Charlie Corrick

Spheroidal weathering in Catoctin Formation greenstone:

photograph by Jared Fortner

Spheroidal weathering in granite (the Old Rag Granite, 1.0 Ga):

photograph by Charlie Corrick


photograph by Charlie Corrick

Student Jared atop a spheroidally-weathered boulder of the Old Rag Granite:

photograph by me

Grain-size differences in the Old Rag Granite (balanced atop my leg):

photograph by me

Non-foliated Old Rag Granite (showing lovely "blue quartz"):

photograph by me

And the foliated version of the Old Rag Granite:

photograph by me

Labels: appalachians, basalt, blue ridge, field trips, geology, granite, igneous, mountains, national parks, nova, structure, weathering

The backlog of photos from my hikes several weeks ago still looms. I've showed you exotic cobbles, migmatites, graded beds, flood debris, and boudins, now for some folds...

As with the others, these are images from the Maryland Piedmont, along the Billy Goat Trail in C&O Canal National Historical Park.

Here's two repeats that fall, Venn-diagram-like, into the overlap area between the "graded beds" theme and the "folds" theme:




Now for some fresh, never-before-seen images:







(that's a fold cut twice oblique to its axis, resulting in an elliptical outcrop pattern).

Tiny folds:


Folds in one direction (top to bottom); boudinage in the perpendicular direction (left to right):


Found this one on the side of a cliff I probably should not have been scaling:


That's all for now... have a good Tuesday!

Labels: igneous, maryland, metamorphism, national parks, piedmont, primary structures, structure

I'm returning now to the slew of new images I shot a couple of weekends ago on the Billy Goat Trail (BGT). Previous posts from these back-to-back morning hikes here, here, here, and here.

Today's theme: boudinage, the stretching & breaking of more competent rock units, and the gaps in between the 'chunks' filled in with less competent (more 'flowy') rock units, or by magma or other fluids. It's a behavior that's neither purely brittle nor purely ductile, but somewhere in between.

Boudinage of granite in metagreywacke:


Ditto (although some of this looks closer to hydrothermal quartz than granite, but there is some K-spar present...):


Felsite boudins in amphibolitic gneiss:


Pretty cool here; you can see that fluid magma filled in the gaps between the boudins. When this boudinage happened, the surrounding amphibolite was too viscous to flow into the gap. Furthermore, the asymmetry of these granite-filled tension gashes indicates some shearing: Was it a sense of shear that was concurrent with the boudinage (top to the left)? That was my initial take, but Kim (in the comments) suggested an alternative, which I like more and more: initial boudinage, and then later shearing in the opposite direction (top to the right). See the discussion in the comments section for more insight...



Some of the weirdest rocks on the Billy Goat Trail are these ones near Trail Marker 2. They are coarsely layered by composition, but I'm not able to figure out quite what the heck is going on with them. Is it just a gneiss with compositional banding ~3 inches thick? Regardless, it shows boudinage, both in horizontal cross-section...



...and in vertical cross-section:


When a rock gets boudinaged in two directions, it records flattening strain perpendicular to the plane of foliation, and goes by the colorful moniker "chocolate table boudinage." (Think of a Hershey bar's grid-like segments. If you smashed your hand down on it, the square chunks would separate from another and move apart, perpendicular to the direction in which you're pressing on it.)


Here's a quartz vein (cross-cutting metagreywacke) that's been boudinaged:



Part of this vein is milky quartz (on the left: white & easy-to-see), but part is transparent quartz (looks kind of grey in outcrop; difficult to see against a grey host rock), so I've used the wonders of Photoshop to turn that portion white, too, in this modified image:



Here's a new boudin that I never had seen before, on a diversion trail off the main C&O Canal towpath due to a breach in the Canal after Tropical Storm Hanna last year:


Lastly, here's something new (to me) that I found on my hike. It's a gigantic boudin of amphibolite in the foliated felsic rock showing chocolate-tablet boudinage that I showed up above. Unadulterated photo:


...And with annotations:


This is a big, angular block of amphibolite (about 1.5 m across) that has the foliation of the "gneiss" wrapping around it. Along strike of the foliation, there are two big rusty square holes, where I interpret other big boudins of amphibolite have weathered out. (As I showed the other day, the granite stands up signficantly better to weathering than does the amphibolite.) I was somewhat astonished to recognize this as a big boudin: it has very crisp edges, and is huge in comparison to other boudins that I am familiar with. Neat-O! I'm going to take my structural geology students here in a couple of weeks and have them examine and interpret these structures.

Labels: geology, igneous, metamorphism, piedmont, structure

Picking up where I left off last week with cool new pictures of rocks from the Billy Goat Trail, today we examine igneous beasties...

As you may have picked up from previous posts on this blog [e.g. here], the rocks of the Piedmont province are essentially the mangled remains of an ancient ocean basin: deep sea sediments, oceanic crust, volcanic islands, even microcontinents -- and all were crushed between North America and Africa during the mountain-building that closed the Iapetus Ocean and formed the supercontinent Pangea. Along the Billy Goat Trail, Piedmont rocks are exposed that started off as deposits of mud and dirty sand, but then were metamorphosed during mountain-building. From the bottom of the ocean to the center of a mountain belt: that forces rocks to change. In some places, they heated up so much that they began to melt.

When rock partially melts, but then the melt crystallizes in places (i.e., it doesn't completely drain out of the source rock), we call it a migmatite. The Billy Goat Trail has some spectacular exposures of migmatite. Here's three shots from the downstream end of the trail:







If migmatitic rock rips open while it is in this partially-molten state, that generates cavitites that the fluid magma flows into and fills. Here, for instance, you can see a rip in the foliated migmatitic metagraywacke that is filled with granite.


Further away from the source rock, mobilized magma can fill in planar fractures that cut across older rocks of many varieties. These cracks are filled in with magma that cools into igneous rocks, and we call them dikes. Here is a new dike I discovered on my hike last week: a vertical dike of granite about one foot thick, cutting across non-migmatitic metagraywacke:


Here's a granite dike cutting amphibolite; weathered out in high relief:


Same dike, from a slightly different angle (I leaned over to the left), to show how it pokes up above the amphibolite like a little wall:


Metamorphosed (some epidote present) granite dike cutting amphibolite:


These fractures didn't open up wide enough to admit large volumes of fluid (either magma or hydrothermal solutions), but there was some fluid flow along them. How do we know? The rock immediately adjacent to each crack weathers out in high relief, suggesting a higher proportion of stable, tough minerals (like quartz). [We've seen this before.] The base rock here is fine grained amphibolite.


Contact between a small granite pluton (or a large dike?) and neighboring amphibolite:


Tension gash in amphibolite, filled in with a mix of potassium feldspar and quartz:


Xenoliths of foliated biotite-rich rocks which I interpret to be metagraywacke that has had all its felsic melt expressed from it, then ripped off by the growing granitic magma chamber (stoping) and dropped into the magma (relatively low temperature, so the biotite doesn't melt), and rotating around to new orientations which do not match the regional foliation orientation. I'm seeing these as shreds of the 'depleted' migmatitic source rock...


Closer-up of these xenoliths #1:


Closer-up of these xenoliths #2:


Another cool thing I saw on last weekend's hikes was pegmatite. Pegmatites are present where there is a particularly watery magma. Water, the universal solvent, helps act as a courier, ferrying atoms around to where growing crystals can access them and add to their bulk. As a result, pegmatites are characterized by really large crystals. These potassium feldspars are highlighted by lichens which grow at the interface between the feldspars and the surrounding milky quartz:


Those same black-colored lichens can also highlight the cleavage planes of the feldspars:


Another big-ass K-spar:


...and another:


I love this stuff. Hope you enjoy these igneous treats as I much as I enjoy sharing them.

Labels: igneous, maryland, metamorphism, piedmont

Walking to my car the other day, I looked up at the embankment on my street, and noticed some geology there I hadn't seen before. Yesterday, with my camera, I climbed up the embankment (~15 feet) to investigate. Fortunately there were some trees to hold onto.

Sure enough, it was as I suspected: dikes of granite (subvertical in orientation) that, along with the schistose bedrock they cut across, had totally weathered to saprolite.

Keys for scale:


Originally, these dikes were emplaced during the late-Ordovician eastern-North American episode of mountain-building called the Taconian ("Taconic") Orogeny. Later, when they got exposed at the surface (or close to it) they began to "rot."

Hand for scale:


Here's a video showing how readily these dikes formerly known as granite deform by crumbling into pieces:


The main chemical weathering process that has happened here to make this possible is the hydrolysis of feldspar to produce kaolinite, a clay mineral. Large single crystals of potassium feldspar in the granite are now large amorphous masses of kaolinite, which has no strength when stressed.

Labels: dc, granite, igneous, metamorphism, ordovician, weathering

What happened to these poor hand samples?

My friend and colleague Pete Berquist shot this video of his (successful) attempt to make lava in his own backyard with an acetylene torch:

Note how the basalt makes runny lava, but the granite yields lava so viscous it doesn't even drip!

Pete works at Thomas Nelson Community College in Hampton, Virginia. He also posted some photos online here.

Labels: basalt, granite, igneous

Here's a pretty cool outcrop I found as we were leaving Cotopaxi National Park in Ecuador (in early January). I've got two small photos taken laterally on different parts of the outcrop (exposed by a stream), and then I follow those with two close-up crops, showing the details. I've posted the full-size versions of the first two photos on Flickr, so you can click through if you want more details. The zoomed-in shots are displayed here at the same size you'll find on Flickr.





What's going on here? It looks like we've got a series of thinner, relatively fine-grained layers below, topped off with a massive, poorly-sorted layer. The lower layers are all ash- and lapilli-sized grains, each stratum pretty well sorted. The upper layer consists of all kinds of different-sized chunks, including some boulders, "floating" in a really fine-grained matrix. Check it out:





I interpret this as a series of volcanic ash-(& lapilli-)falls that were then buried beneath a lahar, a volcanic mudflow. The lahar's slurry-like consistency was capable of transporting really large clasts, and when it slowed down, it set up like nature's concrete.

I think this is pretty spectacular stuff.

Labels: ecuador, igneous, mass wasting, south america, stratigraphy, travel, volcano

Labels: antarctica, astronomy, australia, basalt, gsw, hadean, igneous, isotopes, meteors, minerals

Last Friday was the first day of Structural Geology at George Mason University. Though I'm a full-timer at NOVA, GMU talked me into teaching Structure this semester, too. I've done this once before -- my first job out of graduate school, in fact. Then (in 2005), it was very stressful for me, and I'm not sure that I did a very good job. Now, though, I'm much more confident as an instructor, and I feel like I've got a better grasp of some of the essential ideas and techniques: both structural and pedagogical.

For the first day of class, I took a page from Kim of All My Faults Are Stress Related, who recently described a simple but effective "first day of structure" exercise in a post. Inspired by this idea of nurturing structural curiosity right from the start, I gathered up a collection of 36 samples of deformed rocks (plus a few non-deformed ones as "decoys") and laid them out on tables in our classroom:

Most of them were samples from my personal collection, which resides in my office at NOVA, but there were NOVA teaching lab samples too, and I added a few more interesting ones I found at Mason, like this ptygmatic fold in a granite dike:

The instructions to the students were twofold: First, visit each sample and describe it as fully as possible, noting in particular its "structural significance" (which I declined to define more explicitly). Then, once everyone had done that, get together as a whole class and organize these samples into groups based on common features. How many groups? Which features? They had to decide.

I took as my mantra a quote my friend Bridget (a writing instructor at NOVA) found:

"Teaching should be as experimental as writing." -Donald Murray

So I was conducting an educational experiment...

Starting the class in this way felt unfamiliar to me -- everyone "knows" that the first thing you're supposed to do is distribute the syllabus and spell out the gameplan for the semester. Or perhaps start with an introductory lecture. So it was kind of eerie and uncomfortable for me to sit still and quiet off on the side while a roomful of eager students (that I had only just met) went to work.

I sat back and made observations. One student was miming squeezing and stretching rocks with his hands -- "replaying" the stresses that he interpreted must have acted on the rocks to leave behind such structures. (Kim has another post up, just today, about the role of gesturing while teaching and learning geology.) I was pleased when (umprompted by me) they started using supplies like hand lenses, rulers, percentage charts, and hydrochloric acid to quantify the samples' characteristics.

Another student picked up a metaconglomerate with stretched pebbles whose boundaries were somewhat indistinct. His pen moved over the surface of the sample, visually tracing out the place where one stretched pebble stopped, and the next began.

Later, a student set aside a chunk of slate with plumose structure on its surface. With raised eyebrows, he said, "I can't say much about that!" A few minutes later, the sound of stippling resounded in the room as one student sketched a grainy sample.

Periods of quiet work were interrupted periodically with joking commentary. The students in this class (mostly guys) appear to have really bonded with one another during previous geology classes. They are all seniors, with the exception of one geography graduate student. It's good to see that they are comfortable with one another.

During the groupwork portion of the exercise, when the students were organizing the samples into clusters based on shared characteristics, I continued my silent observations. "Let's organize them by stress direction," one student said. "But not fault direction?" asked another. "How about directionality, regardless of what it's direction of," came the reply.

They ended up choosing these titles for their groups: "Slickensides," "Bends and folds," "Smashed together," "Tension," and "Undeformed." It was cool to watch this process play out. I had put out one sample of tension gashes in a limestone (extensional fractures infilled with calcite). The sample was one of the few that I had labelled. That went into the "Tension" group, of course. But what about that other sample with the quartz veins? Was that the same kind of thing? It's a different mineral...

The most classic exchange went like this:

Student 1: "I'm confused."
Student 2: "It [the organizational system] made sense at first."
Student 1: "...Like a lot of organizational systems in geology!"
(laughter)

Finally, once consensus has been achieved, we all walked around to the various piles of rock and I talked in a general sense about the structural importance of each one. The students appeared to be pretty engaged with this discussion: after all, they had invested some serious time in trying to figure these samples out; now they wanted to know what they really meant. My discourse on the samples stretched to about an hour. All told, the whole lab, grouping, and ensuing discussion lasted about three and a half hours. I felt really good about the exercise as a way of generating structural thinking during our first few moments (and hours) of class. I preferred this way of starting class to the traditional approach.

Satisfied that we were off to a good start, I passed out the syllabus.

Labels: igneous, metamorphism, sediment, structure, teaching

First in a series of blackboard sketches? We'll see...

Labels: art, igneous, teaching

The perpetually-interesting site Oddee hosted a series of satellite images of the Earth today, including this one from April of last year. Somehow I missed it then...

The image, originally from NASA's Earth Observatory (one of the finest websites I know of for those interested in Earth science), shows a collection of volcanoes in the western Arabian Peninsula. A large version of the image (unlabeled) is here.

The most spectacular thing about this image is the color contrast between the volcanoes on the left versus the volcanoes on the right. This spectacular contrast is indicative of the rock types involved in each volcano. On the left, felsic lava was erupting, which cooled into the extrusive rock rhyolite. On the right, mafic lava was erupting, which cooled into the extrusive rock basalt. Mafic igneous rocks like basalt have a higher proportion of the elements iron, magnesium, and calcium as compared to elements like silicon, potassium, and sodium. Felsic igneous rocks are, in a sense, distillates of mafic source rocks: they are made of minerals that are more easily melted.

Also worth noting is the way the basalt overlaps the rhyolite between Jabal Bayda' and Jabal Abyad tells us that the rhyolite came first, and the basalt came second, an example of relative dating. And these insights can be gleaned from space... or more accurately, from our computer screens, depicting an image from space. That's pretty incredible, when you think about it.

FYI, here's what NASA's William Stefanov wrote as the caption for this exceptional image:

The western half of the Arabian Peninsula contains not only large expanses of sand and gravel, but extensive lava fields known as haraat (harrat for a named field). One such field is the 14,000-square-kilometer Harrat Khaybar, located approximately 137 kilometers to the northeast of the city of Al Madinah (Medina). The volcanic field was formed by eruptions along a 100-kilometer, north-south vent system over the past 5 million years. The most recent recorded eruption took place between 600-700 AD.

Harrat Khaybar contains a wide range of volcanic rock types and spectacular landforms, several of which are represented in this astronaut photograph. Jabal ("mountain" in Arabic) al Qidr is built from several generations of dark, fluid basalt lava flows. Jabal Abyad, in the center of the image, was formed from a more viscous, silica-rich lava classified as a rhyolite. While the 322-meter high Jabal al Qidr exhibits the textbook cone shape of a stratovolcano, Jabal Abyad is a lava dome; a rounded mass of thicker, more solidified lava flows. To the west (image top center) is the impressive Jabal Bayda'. This symmetric structure is a tuff cone, formed by eruption of lava in the presence of water. The combination produces wet, sticky pyroclastic deposits that can build a steep cone structure, particularly if the deposits consolidate quickly.

White deposits visible in the crater of Jabal Bayda' and two other locations to the south are sand and silt that accumulate in shallow, protected depressions. The tuff cones in the Harrat Khaybar suggest that the local climate was much wetter during some periods of volcanic activity. Today, however, the regional climate is hyperarid - little to no yearly precipitation - leading to an almost total lack of vegetation.

Labels: basalt, blogs, igneous, middle east, satellite imagery, volcano, websites

As I mentioned yesterday, the Virginia Department of Geology and Mineral Resources has an excellent rock garden outside their office in Charlottesville, displaying a diverse suite of large rock samples from across the state's five physiographic provinces.

Here's Rick Diecchio (George Mason University) providing a sense of scale for the rock garden:


Here's a few of the samples that caught my eye, with my shoe providing a sense of scale (size 12, specifically) in each image...

Aquia Formation sandstone with Turitella fossils (Paleocene); King George County:


Balls Bluff Siltstone with mudcracks (Triassic); Culpeper County:


Conococheague Formation collapse breccia (Cambrian); Augusta County:


Cranberry Gneiss (?) showing well-developed lineation (Mesoproterozoic); Grayson County:


Kyanite quartzite (probably Ordovician metamorphic age); Prince Edward County:


Fossil Sigillaria tree trunk from the Wise Formation (Pennsylvanian); Wise County:


Unakite, the state rock of Virginia according to some (Mesoproterozoic); Rockbridge County:


Here's a link to the PDF (1.82 MB) with all the details about all the rocks in the garden, an impressive achievement just like the symposium.

Labels: conferences, fossils, igneous, meetings, metamorphism, primary structures, sediment, virginia

What's the tallest mountain on Earth?

Everest, right? Well, yeah: if you're measuring from sea level. If you're measuring from the top of the crust the mountain rises from though, it's Mauna Kea, Hawai'i. It's about ~13,800 feet above sea level, but it rises ~33,500 feet from the oceanic crust to the peak (that's compared to Everest's mere ~29,000 feet from base to peak. So... you could say that Mauna Kea is the tallest mountain on our planet... (you could!)

On Thanksgiving day, my friend Lily and I took a drive up to the top of Mauna Kea, and did a little hike up there at high elevation. Today, I'd like to share some photographs of that excursion. We saw some pretty cool geology.

On the drive up the mountain, we saw an animal which was apropos, considering the day:

Gobble, gobble, gobble. Watch out turkeys, we'll be back after we work up an appetite...

Here's Lily's jeep in the "saddle" between Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa, looking north (with Mauna Kea in the background and basaltic lava flows from Mauna Loa in the foreground):


Some cider cones (the Hawai'ian word for cinder cone is pu'u) in the saddle:


Turning the other way (looking south), you can see the bulky form of "the long mountain," Mauna Loa. What a classic shield volcano shape! I love the fact that it's so dang wide it makes a lousy photograph. You just can't capture its spread-out bulk in a photo; it's too massive:


This was the spot where I pretended to have my toes overrun by a pahoehoe flow:


As we drove up the road to the top of the mountain, I was amazed at the raw volcanic landscape, decorated with cinder cones like this one:


At one point, we passed a neat little angular unconformity on the roadside. Here it is, with a nickel (white dot left of center) for scale:


Here's a closer-shot of this small angular unconformity. Earlier layers of ash and lapilli were deposited at a steep angle, and then eroded (perhaps by glaciation? pure speculation there) before more ash and lapilli were deposited atop it, at a lower angle. There's not likely to be much time missing here, and so perhaps it's better to think of this as the top of a cross-bed, an advancing front of pyroclastic deposition moving down the mountainside, overrun by later eruptions, which may have scoured off the upper few inches (??? pure speculation) or so before deposition.

Really, the truncated tops of cross-beds are mini-angular-unconformities, when you think about it; just not with the same amount of time missing at a "real" angular unconformity (with millions of years missing) due to mountain building like the one at Siccar Point. (Video of cross-beds forming)

Here's something else which the clueless geologist might mistake for a sign of mountain building:
No, those aren't originally-horizontal strata that have later been folded. They're layers (again of ash and lapilli) deposited on the originally-rough topography of the mountainside, covering small ridges and filling small valleys. Where a given layer is exposed at higher elevation, I interpret to be a paleo-topographic high; where that same stratum is exposed at lower elevation, that's a paleo-topographic low. The roadcut reveals these layers have undulating shapes, but this is unlikely to be folding that results from tectonic compression: instead, I think it's showing us the lay of the ancient land surface.

Looking south, we could see past Mauna Loa to the actively erupting steam vent coming out of Halemaumau Crater at Kilauea Caldera (source of the vog!):


Near the summit of Mauna Kea, there are a bunch of astronomical observatories:






On the summit is where you find those examples I mentioned the other day of hawaiite, a rock of basaltic composition that is very dense (ostensibly due to erupting beneath the extra pressures of a Pleistocene ice cap):


Here's me on the summit:


View to the north from the summit: More cinder cones...


Here's a YouTube video of me pointing stuff out from the summit (Kilauea, Hualalai, Mauna Loa, observatories, hikers, etc.). Unfortunately the wind makes it all but unintelligable, but I filmed it, doggone it, so I'm going to post it:



I found a beautiful example of a volcanic bomb up there:


After the visit to the summit, we went for a hike to a small supposedly-glacially-gouged-out lake below the summit (Lake Waiau):


Here's a Google Map, showing the lake's location:


I was surprised to see a thick biofilm on the bottom of the lake:


Encrusting the pebbles and cobbles there, it reminded me of Nora Noffke's modern and Archean biofilm photos in the recent GSA Today, as well as my "Life in Extreme Environments" class this past summer at Montana State University.


We saw some nice examples of structural geology on this hike. Previously, I've mentioned plumose structure, a branching pattern on the topography of fracture surfaces in fine-grained rocks. We saw some of that on blocks of basalt atop Mauna Kea, as in this example (again a repeat photo, but the other day I showed it to you for the vesicle; today I'm showing it to you for the plumose structure.)


A similar feature are arrest lines, which again are minute variations in the surface of a fracture. Like plumose structure, which branches from a source point (where the fracture initiated) and branches out in the direction of propagation, arrest lines tell us about the development of a joint. Unlike plumose structure, though, they are not parallel to the propagating fracture front. Instead, they form perpendicular to it, and record how the fracture propagates in small "steps." Each of these arrest lines is interpreted as being a spot where the fracture grew a little bit, then stopped ("arrested") and then grew some more. In this case, the fracture face we're looking at started at the bottom of the picture and grew towards the top of the photo. You can even see some less-discernible plumose structure backing this up:

Similar arrest lines can be seen in basalt images here and here...

We also saw some pretty spectacular xenoliths. Here's one of gabbro in basalt:


Here's one of peridotite in basalt:


And a few more:



My boots, with another volcanic bomb:


Driving back down the mountain afterwards, we got this nice view of the cinder cones (pu'us!) in the eastern part of the "saddle" between Maunas Kea and Loa:


This Mauna Kea excursion was one of my favorite things that I did on my all-too-brief trip to Hawaii. It was great to get up in the high country, where the air is thin (and vog free!) and the skies are deep blue, and the geology is surprisingly varied (at least it was surprising to me, and pleasantly so). The hike let us work up a good appetite, so we headed back down the mountain and straight to Thanksgiving dinner!

Labels: basalt, birdies, geology, glacial landforms, hawaii, igneous, mountains, msse, primary structures, structure, travel, unconformities, volcano, xenoliths

Contrary to what you may have heard, it's not all basalt. Even the basalt is astonishingly varied: the extrusive rock of a thousand faces... Here I'll share some pictures I took of rocks in Hawai'i:

There's pahoehoe:


...and there's a'a:


Here's a pahoehoe flow oozing over my boot (just kidding; it was cold when I did this):


Pahoehoe lobes can drain out, leaving only the outer skin as rock, but with a hollow center. These are lava tubes (nickel for scale):


Another one (nickel for scale):


Cool texture on the inside of this lava tube (nickel for scale):

...and zooming in a bit closer (it looks like wrinkled cellophane!):


A stack of cross-sectioned pahoehoe flows, showing their tubular (totally tubular, dude) shape:


Some Hawai'i basalt is massive, like this cobble...


...or like this cobble of hawaiite, a dense form of basalt found atop Mauna Kea (where it apparently erupted beneath Pleistocene ice caps):


But the majority of Hawai'i's basalts are vesicular, meaning they contain "Swiss Cheese" type holes that result from gas bubbles. When the lava erupts, it experiences less pressure at the Earth's surface than it was subjected to at depth. As a result, many gases (steam, CO2, sulfur dioxide, chlorine, argon, others) exsolve from the lava solution and make bubbles. If these bubbles don't get a chance to pop before the lava sets up into igneous rock, then they are preserved as vesicles. Sometimes the vesicles are small:


...and sometimes they are big:


Sometimes, they are really big. Here's one I could fit my entire Nalgene water bottle into:


When vesicles later get filled in with mineral deposits, we call them amygdules. Here's some vesicles that have gotten a light coat of a white mineral on their interiors: the first step to converting a vesicle into an amygdule:


Some of the vesicles show strain (almost certainly due to late-stage flow in the increasingly-viscous lava, getting stretched out like air bubbles in pouring honey). Surface tension on the bubble wants to make it spherical, and the lower the lava's viscosity, the easier it will be to attain that perfect spherical shape, minimizing the surface-area-to-volume ratio. So when we find them in cigar-shapes or pancake-shapes instead, that's a clue that they've been deformed. Deformed not by tectonic forces (ductile flow at depth in an orogen), but ductile flow as a result of their formation, in a sluggishly oozing blob of lava:


Another example of stretched-out vesicles:


A lonely vesicle in an otherwise massive basalt:


Not sure what's going on here, but it looks cool (popped vesicles in sticky lava?):


Another thing you see a lot of in these Hawai'ian basalts are phenocrysts of certain minerals. Here, for instance, is a cobble showing nice olivine phenocrysts:


...and another:


Here's one I showed you last week when we discussed Green Sands Beach:


Here's an outcrop which shows phenocrysts of plagioclase feldspar instead:


And a river cobble (also vesicular) bearing a healthy population of feldspar phenocrysts:


Holy feldspar, Batman! This rock has a huge proportion of feldspars (you'll note that it's still vesicular, though: in spite of the overwhelming volume of macroscopic crystals, this is still an extrusive rock):


Here's something else caught up in a finer grained (and yes, vesicular) basaltic matrix: another piece of basalt!

This is a xenolith of slightly-older basalt showing flow banding in its own trains of vesicles, that after solidification got broken off and included in younger flows of basalt. I'll post some additional xenolith photos later this week.

It's not all basalt, though. Here's a breccia made of basaltic cobbles (penny for scale):


And a closer shot of the same outcrop (penny for scale):


Finally, a rock I was surprised to see: an intermediate-composition extrusive igneous rock called benmoreite (nickel for scale, and note the rock hammer impact marks):


Benmoreite is way more felsic that anything else on the island. According to my volcanic advisor Jess, it's the result of late-stage partial melting of basaltic source rocks in the island's oldest volcano, Kohala. In other words, it's a distillation of basalt: concentrating the most felsic components in this decidedly-lighter-complected rock (nickel for scale):

Labels: basalt, geology, hawaii, igneous, national parks, pleistocene, primary structures, volcano, xenoliths

Dave at the Geology News blog is hosting this month's Accretionary Wedge on the topic of "favorite places to do field work."

My favorite place to do field work is in California's "range of light," the Sierra Nevada.

I did my geology master's field work in the eastern Sierra, along the Sierra Crest Shear Zone, a major high-strain zone which parallels the eastern edge of the Sierra Nevada Batholith through older meta-sedimentary and meta-volcanic host rocks.

In 2003, I spent the summer out there, starting with my first field area at lovely Gem Lake:

An angular unconformity can be seen in this image as the tilted (close to vertical) metasedimentary and metavolcanic rocks (orange and gray) are overlain by dark colored "Tertiary" basalt flows. A big talus slope of basalt chunks makes a black triangular shape that heads downhill toward the lake. In the distance, where the land rises appreciably, the granites (and granodiorites) of the batholilth begin.

We camped on this peninsula sticking out into Gem Lake:


Dazhi Jiang (Then of UMD-College Park; now at the University of Western Ontario) and USC's Geoff Pignotta examine strained metavolcanics near Gem Lake:


Here's me with the Ritter Range in the background:


Glacial striations sculpting my strained metavolcanics:



Field gear:

Labels: california, field trips, glacial landforms, granite, igneous, metamorphism, structure, travel

Yesterday, I took a three Honors students and a colleague to Difficult Run, Virginia. This is a hiking trail that goes from Georgetown Pike, in the tony neighborhood of McLean, Virginia, down through a deep, steep river valley to the Potomac River.

As noted a couple days ago, the trail is right across the Potomac River from my beloved Billy Goat Trail. In a recap from that post, here's a map of the area... Feel free to switch it to "satellite" view.



Some discussion of the bedrock geology of Difficult Run can be found here, in an excellent field trip guide by Scott Southworth (USGS) and colleagues that's part of Excursions in Geology and History (Frank Pazzaglia, editor).

We began our trip by meeting up with Doug Dupin of the Palisades Museum of Prehistory, who joined us for our exploratory geohike. We walked a short distance down the trail and found a big (abandoned) quarry where it was rumored there was a good fault. This is one of these pieces of information that I heard somewhere, at some point. I couldn't find it in any literature, so maybe I heard it in discussion when I taught at George Mason University for a year between grad school and when I got my position at NOVA. Anyhow, I had never actually checked it out...

...So our first order of business was to review the criteria for identifying a fault: What would we look for? Fault breccia, fault gouge, slickensides, hydrous mineral veins, and of course, offset. However, here in the Virginia Piedmont, it's rare to have a good marker unit to compare on opposite sides of the fault: usually it's just schist on one side, schist on the other. In some places, you could add the presence of a fault scarp to that list, but being as how this was an old quarry, geomorphic features like that didn't seem likely. So our search focused on the search for fault breccia, fault gouge, veins of odd minerals, and slickensides.

A few minutes in, we found some slickensides on this boulder of float:

This is a boulder of migmatitic phyllonite, with a wavy texture due to mylonitic flow at depth. (The picture doesn't show this very well at all, though you can see faint undulations 'cascading' from the top of the photo towards the bottom. It's much clearer in cross-section.) Anyhow, the 'slicks' are a faint upper-left to lower-right lineation seen on this surface, one or two degrees off from the orientation of the ballpoint pen. The surface you're looking at here was a fault plane at some point in its history. Ballpoint pen for scale.

We did eventually locate the fault, uphill from this boulder. It was characterized by a zone of fault gouge (pulverized rock), three inches wide to a foot wide in places, and highly oxidized (presumably by oxygen-rich meteoric waters percolating along this fractured surface)... but there were no good marker units to judge the total offset.

Here's a different section through a similar rock (though I wouldn't apply the "phyllonite" textural description to this one). Instead of looking at the plane of foliation here, we're looking at a surface which is perpendicular to the foliation plane(s)....

Here in this image, you can see two cleavages... One which runs roughly upper-left to lower-right through the photo, defined by gneissic banding including bands of granite (light-colored; late Ordovician in age... Taconian Orogeny). A second cleavage runs roughly left-to-right through this photo. This second cleavage overprints the first. The overall interpretation is that the first cleavage developed due to lower-left-to-upper-right compression, forming the foliation defined by alternating bands of different compositions of minerals in an upper-left to lower-right direction. The second cleavage formed due to compressive stress sub-parallel to the pre-existing foliation, deforming it into a series of tight folds. The limbs of these folds line up parallel to one another, defining the second-generation, overprinting cleavage. Can anyone else add to this interpretation? Dime for scale.

Along Difficult Run itself, the outcrops were all relatively recently scoured (in 1972 by Hurricane Agnes), so there are some good exposures. As I noted earlier this week, the area shows some nice exposures of granite pegmatites (keys, and the edge of the Pazzaglia volume, for scale):


On our field trip yesterday, we took at closer look at these beautiful pegmatites, and the associated amphibolite bodies. Take a look at this close-up... Dime for scale.

What's going on here? You've got a beautiful (euhedral/subhedral) example of an orthoclase feldspar ("potassium feldspar") crystal amid a bunch of quartz. But look closer at the feldspar crystal... this sucker has been fractured in many places, and it's shot through with very small veins of quartz. Somehow, as this pegmatite dike was cooling, the earlier-crystallizing feldspar was broken and intruded by the presumably-still-fluid silica-rich magma. Anybody able to expand on this interpretation and shed some light on how this all played out? Or contradict it and give a different story to explain this relationship?

In the neighboring amphibolite, we checked out these cool ridges of resistant rock which are centered on thin fractures. Here, you see a couple of intersecting joint sets, each of which was the "plumbing system" for silica-rich hydrothermal fluids (my interpretation). These silica-rich hydrothermal fluids impregnated the surrounding amphibolite with quartz, which made the immediately-adjacent areas more silica-rich, and hence more resistant to weathering and erosion: Hence, now that they've made it to the surface, they're weathering out in high-relief. Dime for scale.


A bit further downstream, Doug showed us a 'cave' (central dark area, just to the right of the waterfall) between the bedrock and a big slab of sloughed-off migmatitic metagraywacke:

We each edged into the 'cave' to the end, where Doug has shown that a distinctly-rectangularly shaped hole admits a direct beam of sunlight during the fall and spring equinoxes. From the inside, it's a striking arrangement, enough to make you wonder whether it's anthropogenic. However, from the outside I was unconvinced that the hole's position was anything other than natural. Doug's initial intepretation of the site was strongly influenced by the fact that there are some unambiguous petroglyphs a short distance away from here, and based on this proximity, I think it's acceptable to infer that Native Americans may have visited this cave. However, I interpreted the opening to be completely natural, with no need to invoke anthropogenic modification in any way.

We hiked on along a ridge overlooking Mather Gorge, sighting a fox and an accipiter (Coopers? Sharp-shinned?) and a few vultures, and returned to the parking lot as the sun dipped low in the sky. On the way back to campus, Honors students Ana and Hope fed us Swiss cookies and cheese & crackers. Altogether, it was a pretty great way to spend a November afternoon...

Labels: birdies, faults, field trips, granite, igneous, metamorphism, ordovician, piedmont, rivers, virginia

This week, I'm taking some of my Honors students to Difficult Run, Virginia.

It's right across the Potomac River from my beloved Billy Goat Trail. Here's a map of the area:



Some discussion of the bedrock geology of Difficult Run can be found here, in an excellent field trip guide by Scott Southworth (USGS) and colleagues that's part of Excursions in Geology and History (Frank Pazzaglia, editor).

Here's a look at Difficult Run, looking upstream from below one of the several waterfalls there:



These outcrops were all relatively recently scoured (in 1972 by Hurricane Agnes), so there are some good exposures. We're going to look for a fault reported to be there, as well as the incision geomorphology of Difficult Run itself, and some nice exposures of granite pegmatites (keys for scale):





This field trip is less a guided tour, and more of an exploration, so I hope when we get back, I'll have some photos of new and interesting things to share.

Labels: faults, granite, igneous, metamorphism, ordovician, piedmont, rivers, virginia

The Virginia Community College System (VCCS) organizes conferences occasionally where faculty in different disciplines can get together. This weekend was the "peer conference" for the natural and physical sciences. It was held at the lovely mountain resort called Wintergreen, in central Virginia's Blue Ridge Mountains.

Here's a map of the area:

That's the Shenandoah Valley on the left (part of the Valley & Ridge province), the Blue Ridge in the middle (running from NE to SW), and the Piedmont province on the far right. Wintergreen is a bit SW of Charlottesville.

The conference was fruitful and interesting. I enjoyed getting to meet a bunch of the other VCCS geology faculty and discussing what we want to do in the future in terms of supporting one another and professional development. I gave a talk about new technologies in geology instruction, which included information about the geoblogosphere and other sundry web resources I use. My colleague Erik Burtis at NOVA-Woodbridge led us on a cool "field trip" to Glacial Lake Missoula, via Google Earth.

I spent a lot of time talking with Pete Berquist, from Thomas Nelson Community College, discussing next summer's Regional Field Geology of the Northern Rocky Mountains course. We laid out a series of goals for the students, and created a tentative itinerary. Pete and I took a great hike at the end of the first day, poking around in the rocks and watching the sun set over those gorgeous mountains. Friday evening, there was a cool astronomy session, where Ed Murphy from UVA showed us the Ring Nebula, the Andromeda Galaxy, and assorted other stuff in outer space. He had a great laser pointer that extended a green laser line up about 80 feet into the sky... Very useful for pointing things out. Low light levels in the forested mountains meant excellent stargazing. Saturday morning, Bill Warren of Lord Fairfax Community College gave a good talk about the global energy crisis, and potential solutions. I picked up a few good resources there that I'll use next semester in teaching Environmental Geology. And then when the conference concluded, there was a geology "hike" out to look over the landscape. By driving us to a couple of different overlooks, Doug Coleman of the Wintergreen Nature Foundation showed us spots where we were able to look east into the Piedmont, and west into the Valley & Ridge. Pretty cool, though we didn't look too closely at the actual rocks exposed there. Fortunately, I have an inclination to do that on my own... as you'll see below:

Catoctin Formation greenstone (meta-basalt), showing chlorite-rich portions (left) and epidote-rich portions (right). Quarter for scale.


More Catoctin, the volcanic breccia layer. Lots o' epidote. Quarter for scale.


Is this a quartz vein or a granite dike?
At first glance, it appears to be your standard hydrothermal quartz vein full of milky quartz, but then you'll notice that it's not just quartz. There are also two crystals of orthoclase feldspar in there. (The dark shapes are just empty holes & shadow, not mafic minerals.) I pointed this phenomenon out before, but I'll state it again: I think that hydrothermal quartz veins and granite dikes are not separate phenomena, but points along a spectrum of composition. Quarter for scale.

Looking southeast towards the Piedmont:


Looking northwest towards the Valley & Ridge:

Labels: appalachians, blue ridge, conferences, igneous, metamorphism, piedmont, valley and ridge

Last week was field trip week for me. I led trips to the Billy Goat Trail on Tuesday and Thursday, and to Washington, DC, on Saturday.

On the Physical Geology field trip to the Billy Goat Trail, we saw rocks like amphibolite, metagraywacke, and migmatite:







Hope and Ana checking out the migmatite:


The group poses with the migmatite, to show how close anatexis is to their hearts...


Jane examines lamprophyre in a weathered-out dike:


Noting the characteristics of metagraywacke:




Traversing 'Pothole Alley'... Joel looks chilly...


Our lunch spot... Alex pretends to dive into the Potomac River...


Traversing 'The Traverse':


On the Historical Geology field trip to DC on Saturday, we were amused to find a jack-o-lantern that had facial hair resembling mine...



But that's not all! We also saw some geology. While you can get a more complete picture at my "DC Rocks" webpage, I'll post a few new photos of new outcrops here...

Here's a nice slab of granite (very angular) set in metagraywacke matrix (metamorphosed accretionary wedge complex)...


Here's two members of the Georgetown Intrusive Suite, showing the (earlier) gabbro stoping xenoliths into the (later) granite:


I love field trips. I love seeing my students light up at being outside, at getting a handle on the stuff we talk about all semester in class. I think field trips are super duper important.

Labels: dc, field trips, granite, igneous, maryland, metamorphism, nova, piedmont, teaching, xenoliths

Yesterday, I pulled up the Venetian blinds in my office window at NOVA, and this is what I saw:


Naturally, I had to take a photograph. It's puuurty.

While I had the camera out, I figured I'd shoot a few photos of the rest of my office, since it's full of all sorts of interesting clutter. Rather than explaining what all the doodads are in these photos, I figured it would be more fun to just post them and see if you can identify them all:















Have fun!

Labels: fossils, igneous, maps, metamorphism, minerals, nova, plants, sediment

Several years ago, (former) NOVA student Theresa R. put together a nice little webpage with rock and mineral photos. My favorite part is a "gray rock quiz" at the end. Check it out and see how well you do!

Labels: igneous, metamorphism, minerals, nova, sediment, websites

I led my "History Before History: The Geologic Saga of Washington, DC" tour twice this weekend as part of the twice-annual "Walkingtown, DC" weekend. The folks attending the tour both days were really cool, and were full of good questions. We covered the sedimentary origins of DC's rocks at the bottom of the Iapetus Ocean, their metamorphosis during Taconian mountain building, the intrusion of plutonic rocks, the erosion of those ancient mountains, the deposition of river gravels during the Cretaceous (together producing an unconformity), and the faulting of that unconformity sometime post-Cretaceous (probably Miocene). I'm kind of tired after all that geologic history, especially repeated twice in two days!



The photo above is of a boulder in Rock Creek Park showing all three members of the Georgetown Intrusive Suite, a series of igneous plutons that were intruded into the crust during late-Ordovician mountain-building. I like this boulder because it illustrates well two of the principles of relative dating: the gabbro must be older than the diorite, because there are xenoliths of the gabbro in the diorite (inclusions). You can't break off a piece of gabbro unless it already exists. The granite dike must be younger than the diorite, because it cuts across the diorite (cross-cutting relationships). You can't crack open diorite unless it already exists.

Just thought I'd share an informative little outcrop like this. Please ignore the white graffiti that mars the central part of the exposure. A pen at the top is circled to give a sense of scale.

I hope everyone had a relaxing weekend!

Labels: dc, granite, igneous, plutons, tourism, xenoliths