Yesterday morning, I took a jaunt with a local amateur geologist, Owen P., to go look at some outcrops in streambeds in and adjacent to Silver Spring, Maryland.

Owen wanted me to look at these surfaces, our local unconformity between foliated metamorphic rocks of the Piedmont below, and unconsolidated sediments of the basal Coastal Plain above (cell phone for scale):
The lower rocks are metagraywacke schist of the Sykesville/Laurel Formation (different aspects of the same thing, as far as I am concerned, and not worthy of two different formation names). They were metamorphosed during the Taconian ("Taconic") Orogeny, ~460 million years ago. These rocks were then eroded, and new sediments deposited on top of that eroded surface -- this is an unconformity like the ones I posted about over the past couple of days out in Wyoming and Arizona.

My host thought the layer above the unconformity might be tsunami deposits associated with the Chesapeake Bay bolide impact at 35.5 million years ago. However, that's not what I saw. Instead, the high proportion of angular quartz, and the fact that it was clast-supported rather than matrix supported, suggested to me that the upper layer was a gravel deposit from this very stream. It was good for me to see such a collection of angular clasts atop the unconformity -- on hilltops in DC, I'm used to seeing the Potomac Formation in this position. It's a Cretaceous-aged river deposit, with a real mix of sand, clay, and well-rounded (mainly quartzite) cobbles.

Another look (with cell phone for scale):


After I explained why I didn't buy the tsunamite hypothesis, but encouraged him to keep looking, Owen took me to another cool location, on Northwest Branch (a creek) just outside the Beltway at Burnt Mills Park. Here's a location map:


There, we found an outcrop of migmatitic metagraywacke very reminiscent of the one I visited on Four Mile Run in Arlington, VA, in March of this year. Cutting down, Northwest Branch has exposed a complex of clearly metasedimentary, clearly granitic, and not-so-clearly transitional migmatitic rocks. It's pretty cool, and not only because some of the potholes went all the way through the rock, making wormhole tunnels that a geologist can (and will) crawl through...


I found a couple of cool igneous contacts. Here's a dike of granite cutting through metagraywacke. I like this outcrop because it shows that these things are in fact filled-in cracks, and cracks have a propagating edge, a tip. Most granite dike exposures don't show this fracture edge, but this one does. In spite of the graffiti, it's a good look at that process caught in the act.


And here's a nice example of cross-cutting relationships. Host metagraywacke (notice the pebble-sized clasts of various lithologies in the upper left) is cut by two granite dikes: first a finer-grained, darker-colored one, and then by a coarser-grained, lighter-colored one. Beauty!


Thanks to Owen for showing me these outcrops -- I appreciate the interest and the invitation!

Labels: granite, maryland, metamorphism, migmatite, primary structures, sediment

As a follow-up to yesterday's post on the "Great Unconformity," today I offer a few more shots of unconformities in the Grand Canyon, including (at the end), an angular unconformity...

First, here's a close-up of the contact between the Vishnu Schist and the Tapeats Sandstone:


Slightly blown-out because I was shooting into the sun, and the outcrop was in shadow, but that's why God invented Photoshop:


Same thing, but with the direct light, it's texture (rather than color) that allows you to discern the difference between the two rock units:


The Great Unconformity is visible here, with a boatload of river rafters for scale:


Same thing:


Same thing again...


Okay, here's something different. A waterfall shot. People apparently love waterfalls. Every place I went this summer with a waterfall, there were oodles of folks gathered around, and much flapping of camera shutters. I must be dim, because I kind of don't get it. Water flows downhill... What's the big deal? Anyhow, here the waterfall actually shows us something interesting: note where it emerges from:

That's right -- from the unconformity. Apparently, this is due to the stubborn resistance of the crystalline basement rocks, which are tougher to erode into than the overlying sandstone. The creek cut through the sandstone, but hasn't yet cut through the Vishnu Schist and Zoroaster Granite. However, the Colorado River has, and as the creek flows into the river, there's a difference in the elevation of the two bodies of water. Hence, the waterfall.

I went for a pretty amazing swim in the pool at the base of this fall: the water was cool and bracing, and the wind created by the waterfall was amazingly powerful, actually blowing swimmers downstream! Just the thing after a hot hike.

Lastly, a different aspect of the same unconformity, also seen in the Grand Canyon. Don't look in the foreground, but high up on the distant ridge. This one is an angular unconformity, with sedimentary rocks below the ancient erosional surface as well as above.

In this case, the angular unconformity separates the Grand Canyon Supergroup from the Tapeats. The Tapeats, as we've seen, is Cambrian (~543-488 million years old). The Grand Canyon Supergroup (1.25 billion to 825 million years old) was laid down on the basement rocks first, then faulted and tilted 15 degrees. These tilted blocks were then eroded. On many, the Grand Canyon Supergroup was totally burnished away, re-revealing the underlying basement rocks. In the more down-dropped blocks, however, little protected packages of the Supergroup were preserved. When sea level rose anew in the Cambrian, it deposited the Tapeats Sandstone. In some places, the Tapeats sand was laid down on granite and schist, and in other places on these tilted layers of the Grand Canyon Supergroup. Same erosional surface; different rocks below it in different locations.

Here's a Flash animation showing the various steps it took to put the Grand Canyon together, including the erosion that gave rise to these various unconformities.

Labels: cambrian, grand canyon, primary structures, proterozoic, sediment

Sorry for the long delay in posting here. Turns out they don't have Wi-Fi at Phantom Ranch.

After my time in Zion (did Angels Landing and a few other small hikes while there), I scooted down to Las Vegas, Nevada, to pick up my father and two brothers. They had flown in there, and after one day were already tired of the city. I was ready to leave five minutes after I got there, which is always how I feel about Vegas. Somehow, circumstances keep conspiring to bring me back there, though...

We drove out of the Basin & Range and up onto the Colorado Plateau, and spent the night at Cliff Dwellers, a lodge near Marble Canyon. I was really impressed with their food and drink. We had an amazing meal, washed down with several pitchers of Newcastle Brown Ale! In the morning, we gathered up our gear and put onto the river. Our trip consisted of two rafts outfitted with side tubes and motors and guides. One raft was entirely made up of a family from Charlotte, North Carolina, including the glass artist Wayland Cato, III. The Bentley's raft was augmented by a family from Littleton, Colorado, two oil men from Oklahoma, and a couple of veteran river rafters from northern California. It was a motley crew, but we started having fun immediately.

We launched at Lees Ferry, in the Kaibab Limestone, and then descended in both elevation and geologic time. At our first lunch stop, in the Coconino Formation, I was astonished at several synapsid reptile trackways protruding from the underside of the paleo-dune slipfaces overhead. I took some photos, but because of the aforementioned software issue, I won't be able to share them until I get back to DC in August. As the first couple of days went by, we just went deeper and deeper into the Paleozoic stratigraphy of the Colorado Plateau. Of all the formations, my favorite was the Bright Angel Shale, which has many beautiful colors in thin layers throughout (not to mention oodles of trace fossils). I was particularly pleased to play frisbee in a "cave" in the Redwall Limestone, a place that I have shown photographs of to my students, but never actually seen before. It's a HUGE cliff of the Redwall, and then this seemingly small cave etched into its base (and filled with sand), but the cave could easily swallow my building at NOVA: it's big!

At some point, we crossed a major fault, and were instantly dropped down about a billion years in geologic time. Once we got into the Grand Canyon Supergroup and the metamorphic and igneous basement rocks, my geologic interest really went wah-wah. The Vishnu Schist and Zoroaster Granite make a stunning contrast: really beautiful pink cutting across dark grey. I introduced my raft-mates to the idea of the Mazatzal Orogeny, and we discussed how boudinage forms. There were faults and folds galore: structural paradise. I loved it.

Did I mention the rapids? There were rapids. The water was COLD, thanks to Glen Canyon Dam(n). But the sun was hot, and we dried out quickly. Meals were gourmet, though the campsites were spartan (you had to poop in a box that got packed onto the raft each morning: leave no trace!). We slept out under the stars every night, sometimes dealing with blowing sand.

We took several hikes up side canyons to see waterfalls and go swimming. Several of these were good and physically challenging, which is what I wanted. I enjoyed swimming and playing "three-dimensional frisbee" in Havasu Creek, and doing cannonball jumps in the weird blue of the Little Colorado River.

The final day on the river, we came to the western section of the Canyon where recent lava flows (basalt) have cascaded over the rim and down into the canyon. This is famous for producing one of the toughest rapids in the whole Grand Canyon: Lava Falls. But it was awesome to float by and see umpteen gazillion columnar joints, and whole feeder canyons plugged up by basalt. Pretty cool!

Our final morning, we were helicoptered out of the Canyon to a ranch on the rim. This was my first time in a helicopter, and it was giddy and amazing. I want to fly! From the ranch, we transferred to small fixed-wing planes, and I said goodbye to my family. They went back to Vegas, and I flew back to Cliff Dwellers, where my Prius (and a shower!) awaited.

Labels: fossils, geology, grand canyon, minerals, primary structures, rivers, sediment, travel, volcano

Cleaning up my hard drive today, before switching over to the laptop for my summer travels. Thought I would share a few annotated photos from my "Geology of Glacier National Park and surrounding areas" class that I took last summer.

Here's Chief Mountain:


On the trail to Firebrand Pass, here's the contact between the Altyn Formation (lowest of the Belt Supergroup exposed at Glacier) and the overlying Appekunny Formation:


The Purcell Sill is a readily recognizable feature high on the glacially-carved walls of Glacier National Park. This shot is from the trail on the way up to Grinnell Glacier:


Here's a shot from Sun River Canyon, showing one of the many imbricate thrust faults there, with some glacial till thrown in as a bonus feature:


Just outside of Sun River Canyon, we saw some nice recumbent drag folds on some thrust faults in the Cretaceous rocks:


This one was from early in the trip, on the road from Helena up north towards Glacier. Specifically, we stopped in Little Prickly Pear Canyon, near Wolf Creek, and saw these chevron folds in the Cretaceous rocks there:


Along those same lines (folded Cretaceous strata), here's a gorgeous fold just outside the park's boundary, on the road leading north from Two Medicine towards Many Glacier:


No annotations on this one, but I wanted to share it anyhow: a blind thrust / drag fold complex, in the Grinnell Formation (exposed on the trail up to Grinnell Glacier):


Lastly, some snow photos. I took this shot on my way up the trail to Grinnell Glacier, because the holes in the snow reminded me of the scary mask face from the Scream movies. But then on the way down, I realized I had the opportunity to document how much snowmelt occurs in six hours of Glacier NP summer weather. Hence, the bottom "after" shot:


That's it for today... Enjoy!

Labels: field trips, montana, msse, plutons, proterozoic, sediment, structure

In December of 2005, I went out to The Sea Ranch, California, for Christmas. (The Sea Ranch is one of those towns that is officially called "The" something, kinda like The Plains, Virginia. Sorta weird, but there it is.) I want to share an experience I had there, because it gave me an important perspective on my own 'native' geology back in the mid-Atlantic region. It was a significant moment of understanding for me. Let me walk you through it...

The following collection of images are what I saw walking a mere 1 mile up and down the coast from the house where we were staying. I hope you will be struck by the incredible diversity of rock types seen here (as I was):

Conglomerate:




Siltstone and shale interbedded (vertical bedding):


Siltstone and shale interbedded (anticline):


Siltstone and shale interbedded (syncline):


Mudchip conglomerate (mud chips are "rip-up" clasts due to scouring of a muddy location by a sudden intense current, which carries much larger particles like the sand that now surrounds the darker, finer-grained mud chips):


Quartz-rich sandstone:


Graywacke (showing mouthwateringly beautiful graded bedding):


A zoomed-out shot of that graded bed:


Various sedimentary layers (sandstone, silstones, shale partings):


And a close-up of a few small faults that cut through them:


And it's not just sedimentary rocks. Here's some greenstone (metamorphosed basalt). Note the cluster of amygdules (infilled vesicles) in the center:


The greenstone is green due to a lot of chlorite, but it also shows some nice epidote:




Looking north up the coast from our rental house, you could see greenstone and conglomerate intermingled on the 10m-scale:


This is in the small cove directly in front of our rental. There are three different rock units seen here (greenstone, conglomerate, clayey sand), all indicating different things. Note the big clast of greenstone "hovering" in the clayey sand part:




So after taking a walk along the lovely coast there, and seeing all this stuff, I thought "Wow."

The tremendous diversity of rock types along this section of the Sonoma County coast was due to tectonic shuffling of rock types at a subduction zone. In the Mesozoic, this part of California was at a trench where the Farallon Plate was being subducted to the east underneath North America. Melting at depth produced magma, which resulted in the Sierra Nevada continental volcanic arc (excellently reviewed by Geotripper in his "Under the Volcano" series examining the Sierras). But at the trench itself, all the sediments at the edge of North America were being compressed and squeezed and mixed up with the sediments being scraped off the subducted oceanic slab. Some knobs and bumps of basalt even got scraped off the Farallon Plate and added into this jumbled mess. Altogether, this big pile of debris from the convergent boundary is referred to as an accretionary wedge. "Accretionary" because it got accreted, or added, onto the western edge of North America. "Wedge" because that's its overall shape in cross-section.

When subduction ceased (due to the subduction of the East Pacific Rise), the Farallon Plate was gone at this latitude, and the Pacific Plate and the North American Plate were now in direct contact for the first time. As time went by, the accretionary wedge reacted to now longer being dragged downward, and it began to isostatically rebound. It bobbed upward, and brought its 'melange' (French for mixture) to the surface. The uplifted accretionary wedge is the California Coast Ranges, a fantastic place for varied geology mainly because of the tectonic "shuffling" that happened here during the Mesozoic.

So, I mentioned that seeing all this diversity in so short a hike really impressed me. But the insight it gave me is that the same thing happened on the east coast. Where I live and work, in DC and Virginia, an accretionary wedge developed during the early Paleozoic, just like in California, with the exception that ours got subsequently squeezed and metamorphosed in a series of mountain-building events. It's a bit more difficult to recognize, partially due to that metamorphism and partially due to all the @#$%ing vegetation obscuring the underlying bedrock. But it's there: we have metagraywacke, with relict graded beds, metabasalt, quartzite, schist ("meta-shale") and metaconglomerate: it's everything I saw in California with a metamorphic overprinting!

"Wow," I thought again.

Here's some shots of DC-area rocks that are analogues for the ones I've already showed you in California:

Metamorphosed mud-chip conglomerate (near Chain Bridge, DC):


Metamorphosed quartz-rich sandstone (the Sugarloaf Mountain quartzite, MD):




Metagraywacke showing metamorphic chlorite, garnet, and pyrite (both from DC):




Graded bed preserved in metagraywacke (Billy Goat Trail, MD):


Metabasalt (amphibolite, again from the Billy Goat Trail, MD):


Metaconglomerate (Klingle Road, DC):




The experience comparing the two coasts greatly enriched my understanding of tectonics and subduction, and gave me perspective on DC's geologic history. Two different accretionary wedges, two coasts, two eras... but one underlying process. That's what really hit home. Geology repeats itself. It gave me a renewed interest in my local geology. Everyone always hears about what great geology California has (and it does), but doggone it, DC pulled that same trick millions of years earlier, and experienced a series of orogenies immediately afterwards (which California can't claim!).

If it's true that "the best geologist is the one who has seen the most geology," then I became a better geologist that day on the Sonoma coast.

PS - I think it's funny to note that I didn't put a sense of scale in any of the California pictures, but that most of the DC area pictures do have one. I think that says something about my development as a geologist and educator too...

Labels: basalt, plate tectonics, primary structures, sediment, structure

Last week, I mentioned some cool conglomerates I saw when NOVA adjunct instructor Chris Khourey and I did some field scouting. The main purpose of that trip was not to focus on the Culpeper Basin's boundary conglomerates, however, but the "Great Valley" of Virginia's Valley and Ridge province. The "Great Valley" is usually called the Shenandoah Valley in Virginia, because the Shenandoah River flows north through it. (Topographically, it continues north into Maryland, but the Shenandoah River isn't found there.) Sitting in the middle of the valley is a mountain range, Massanutten Mountain. And in the middle of Massanutten, there is another valley, the Fort Valley. As you can see below, Massanutten is a fence-like ridge separating the higher Fort Valley from the lower Shenandoah Valley:

The map view up above (using Google Maps' super-cool new terrain feature) and this cross-section also show the difference in landscape texture (and geologic cause) of the Blue Ridge province in the SE corner of the images.

In discussing the geology of the area, I'm going to mix my pictures from Thursday's scouting expedition with photos from Saturday's actual field trip with my Audubon class.

Let's start at the beginning. The first stop was in the Conococheague Formation, a late Cambrian limestone. Our field trip stopped at a nice exposure near Mulberry Run, west of Strasburg, VA. Here's the crew looking close at the outcrop, and trying out their geo-interpretive field skills for the first time:

Albert tests the outcrop with some dilute hydrochloric acid. It fizzes!

Soon, we spot the first of several stromatolites:

There are also some nice spherical grains of calcite called ooids (or ooliths). These form in wave-influenced carbonate banks today, like the Bahamas.

Interpretation of this environment then? Looks like a nice passive margin, far from any major terrigenous inputs (i.e. mud or sand). Warm tropical temperatures leading to the chemical precipitation of lime mud from seawater.

What comes next? On to stop #2, the Tumbling Run section* south of Strasburg, we see a nice long exposure of the New Market, Lincolnshire, and Edinburg Formations, a series of Ordovician limestones, all dipping nicely towards the axis of the synclinorium. (Last semester, one of my Honors students looked at silicified trilobites in the Edinburg Formation.) As you walk downhill (and up-section), you see a change in the limestones. They get darker in color, and they start splitting into thin sheets along clay-rich layers. Uh-oh, we're getting an increasing clastic influence on these sedimentary rocks. They no longer record pristine, Bahamas-type environments. Now the limestone is mixing with shale. Where is all that mud coming from? A hint may be found in several bentonite layers, weathered volcanic ash deposits. There's some volcanoes getting closer to the area, it looks like.

In the late Ordovician, the east coast of North America experienced the first of three episodes of Appalchian mountain-building. Geologists infer that the Taconian Orogeny was caused by the collision of a volcanic island arc (like modern day Indonesia) with the east coast. The Tumbling Run section shows well the increasing clastic influence of the growing Taconian Mountains to the east.

It's also good for some small but interesting tectonic structures. Check out this conjugate pair of en echelon tension gash arrays:

The black nodules you see along bedding in the above image are flint nodules, very characteristic of the Lincolnshire Formation. If you get close to them, you'll find that they exhibit different mechanical properties than the limestone that surrounds them. They are more likely to break (brittle behavior) than flow (ductile behavior):

But let's get back to the stratigraphy, shall we? (It just doesn't do to get distracted by these minor structures!) Our next stop was to look at the Oranda Formation (calcareous shale), indicating heavy clastic influence (but still a bit of carbonate). Then, after a lovely lunch at the Strasburg Emporium, we headed off to the Buzzard Rock Trail, to look at the Martinsburg Formation. The Martinsburg is a nice thick batch of fine sand and mud interpreted as turbidite deposits. Various pieces of the Bouma sequence can be seen throughout the formation, including graded beds, ripple marks, and cross-bedding. This picture conveys these alternating lithologies, representing fluctuating current strength as turbidity currents periodically brought coarser sediment into the deep (low-oxygen, as indicated by the dark color) basin.

Now, keep in mind that all these sedimentary layers later got folded during the final phase of Appalachian mountain-building, the Alleghenian ("Alleghany") Orogeny. At that same time of intense deformation, some of these mud layers began to convert to slate. The outcrop on the Buzzard Rock Trail shows this pretty well, in spite of being covered by lichen, algae, moss, and other horrible rock-obscuring growths:

The sandy layers outcrop as stiff, blocky strata. But look to the right of the quarter: in the muddy layers, a penetrative cleavage has developed, subperpendicular to the compressive stress. Here, let me draw for you what I saw at this outcrop:

The clay minerals in the mud are more susceptible to being alligned by tectonic forces than the grains of sand in the coarser layers. So the shaley intervals exhibit a more pronounced cleavage than do the sandy intervals.

But again, I'm getting distracted by the tectonic overprinting! This trip is supposed to be about stratigraphy, pure and simple. Doggone it! Okay, moral of the Martinsburg: no more carbonate by the late Ordovician. Instead, this sedimentary basin is getting filled with clastic debris shed off the Taconian Mountains** to the east.

Next layer up is the Massanutten Formation: mainly quartz sandstone, but also some quartz pebble conglomerate. We see it by entering the "basket" via a water gap near Waterlick, VA. Driving south (uphill) along Passage Creek, we were soon surrounded by looming cliffs of quartzite. It represents fluvial and beach facies as the depositional basin was filled to the brim. Here's a boulder of the conglomeratic portion:

Here's some nice cross-beds in the sandy portion exposed near Blue Hole, about 4 miles south of Waterlick, VA:

Other Massanutten Formation features include some fossils. Here's some poorly-preserved brachiopod external molds:

And here's some Arthophycus horizontal trace fossils, probably made by polycheate worms:

Okay, I can't resist this tectonic structure: an awesome anticline exposed along the Veatch Gap Trail (eastern part of the synclinorium, where a small anticline in the Massanutten Formation is superimposed on the larger synclinal pattern):

Beyond the Massanutten Formation, we are in the Fort Valley proper, inside the "canoe" shape of the Massanutten Mountain ridge system. Next layer up is some upper Silurian / lower Devonian carbonates, representing a return to passive margin sedimentation after the end of the Taconian Orogeny and the erosional beveling of those ancient mountains. Unfortunately, there are no good places to stop on the narrow Fort Valley Road, so I don't have a picture of them to share. Trust me, though: they're there.

The next good stops are of Devonian shales. There's some nice ones exposed across the road from Elizabeth Furnace. More mud? From whence does it come? We interpret this again as the onset of an orogeny, in this case the Devonian-aged Acadian Orogeny, which dumped a big thick wedge of sediment into the Appalachian Basin. Here's a shot of the Needmore Formation, one of these shales with distinctive trace fossils highlighted by iron oxide:

The overlying Mahantango Formation (Devonian) is a siltstone that bears a decent number of body fossils, like these brachiopods:

Here's something that may be the back of a trilobite (if I'm not imagining the lobe to the left of the central line of knobs), or maybe a crinoid (if the "central" line is all there is):

Here's what appears to be the (vertically-oriented) trace fossil Daedalus, which I learned for the first time this spring in Silurian rocks near Buffalo, New York:

Finally, at the top of the stack, near Seven Fountains, there are exposures of more bentonite, in this case the Tioga Bentontite, a major stratigraphic marker bed throughout the Appalachians. Here's a shot of the bentonite exposure on the Fort Valley Road near Seven Fountains:

Here's Chris looking at the outcrop:

To summarize the Fort Valley portion of the story: after the Taconian Orogeny ends, we get a brief period of tectonic calm and passive margin sedimentation (carbonate), and then a return to orogenically-induced clastic sedimentation (augmented with volcanic eruptions). In the sedimentary sequence of the Massanutten Synclinorium, this records the onset of the Acadian Orogeny. The actual deformation of all these sedimentary horizons into a synclinorium shape was accomplished by the Alleghenian Orogeny: the much bigger mountian-building episode triggered with Africa and North America collided in the latest Paleozoic.

Hope you enjoyed joining us on this trip. Virginia's got some great geology, eh?

* For the Tumbling Run section, I highly recommend this excellent field guide:

Fichter, Lynn S., and Diecchio, Richard J., 1986, "The Taconic sequence in the northern Shenandoah Valley, Virginia." In: Geological Society of American Centennial Field Guide - Southeastern Section, p.73-78.

** Note I don't say "Taconic." The Taconic Mountains are a modern topographic feature in New York. They exhibit Taconian rocks well, and the orogeny is named for them, but the Ordovician Taconian Mountains would have been much bigger and more areally extensive.

Labels: fossils, primary structures, sediment, stratigraphy, structure, teaching, valley and ridge

The Culpeper Basin is a Mesozoic (Triassic/Jurassic) rift valley in northern Virginia.

As Pangea was breaking apart, a series of normal-fault-bound basins stretched open in an NW-SE direction (giving them long axes that run NE-SW). Some of them connected together in a NE-SW direction, and kept spreading further and further open. Through continued seafloor spreading, these became the Atlantic Ocean basin. Some did not keep opening, and essentially filled in with dirt. Those are the ones that are still preserved up on the North American continent today, including the Culpeper Basin. These basins vary in size, but they run up and down the coast of eastern North America, from Newfoundland down at least into the Carolinas (presumably there are more buried beneath Coastal Plain layers even further south than that). Collectively, these basins are referred to as the Newark Supergroup. They are characterized by immature sedimentary rocks and mafic igneous rocks.

Here's an E-W cross section through the Culpeper Basin, by Chuck Bailey at W&M:

Structurally, then, the basin is a graben, bounded east and west by normal faults.

The igneous rocks in the Culpeper Basin are mostly diabase, but there are some basalt flows too. The sedimentary rocks are a motley mix, including arkose, red siltstones, and lake deposits including siltstones and anoxic black shales. Along the eastern and western boundary faults, we also find coarser sediments that have been lithified into conglomerates. Sediments flowed into the basin from source areas both to the east and west, so you would expect the conglomerates along each edge to look a little different. Indeed, they do!

A modern analogue for the Culpeper Basin is the Afar Triangle region of northeastern Africa (Ethiopia, Eritrea, and Djibouti). Note the sedimentary influx from both the east and the west. Note the lakes, and note the mafic extrusions:

Back to the Old Dominion: I've mentioned the Culpeper Basin's eastern boundary fault before, back in March, when I posted this picture of the conglomerate that outcrops in Clifton, Virgina. It is characterized by lots of clasts of highly-foliated metamorphic rocks (derived from the neighboring Piedmont).

...But I haven't talked about the western boundary fault much. And since I visited it yesterday, today's the day to talk about it.

One of these western Culpeper Basin conglomerates is kind of famous. It's the Leesburg Conglomerate, and it outcrops near Leesburg. It's mostly limestone cobbles and gravel, with some quartzite, too, set in a red matrix. It's a beautiful rock. Here's a couple of field photos taken on Route 15, a mile or two north of Leesburg proper:

The Leesburg Conglomerate was used in the awesome columns in the U.S. Capitol's Hall of Statuary (topped by the much less interesting Carrara Marble of Italy).

Yesterday, NOVA adjunct geology instructor Chris Khourey headed out to Thoroughfare Gap (see map below) to check on a couple of field sites. Thoroughfare Gap is a water gap in the eastern limb of the Blue Ridge Anticlinorium, and it's also the western boundary of the Culpeper Basin. Both Interstate 66 and Route 55 pass through this striking landscape feature:

Note how different this looks as compared to the Leesburg Conglomerate. One thing that immediately jumps out at you when you see an outcrop of it is the large proportion of the cobbles that are pieces of the Catoctin Formation basalt (see more photos of the Catoctin in Monday's post on rocks of Shenandoah National Park). Here's a couple of close-up shots of such cobbles, bearing distinctive amygdules (filled-in vesicles):

But there's also plenty of limestone cobbles and gravel in there too, as this photo shows:

As with the Leesburg Conglomerate, the Waterfall Conglomerate's limestone inclusions are likely coming from the Cambrian & Ordovician carbonates exposed today in the Shenandoah Valley and other valleys of the Valley and Ridge province. More on that later this weekend, when I'll post some shots from the Massanutten Synclinorium.

Labels: basalt, culpeper basin, limestone, mesozoic, sediment, virginia

It started raining in DC on Sunday, and it basically hasn't quit since then. Rock Creek is running high and frothy, and the Potomac has about seven times as much water in it today as it did 36 hours ago. The USGS has only one gauging station on the Potomac in the Piedmont -- at Little Falls, approximately on the DC/Maryland border. Here's what that gage's data (available free online from the Survey) tells us (as of last evening) about the river's recent discharge trend:

Labels: dc, nova, piedmont, rivers, sediment, water resources

Later this month, I'm leading a tour for "Walkingtown, DC" a twice-annual event sponsored by Cultural Tourism DC, a nonprofit organization. My tour is called "History Before History: the geologic saga of Washington, DC." I'll be leading the tour on both Saturday, April 26, and Sunday, April 27, from 1-4pm. If you're in the area, consider coming along. We'll be discussing the deposition of sediments in the Iapetus Ocean, generation of an accretionary wedge, the Taconian Orogeny, the Rock Creek Shear Zone, emplacement of the Georgetown Intrusive suite, and finally the erosion of the young Appalachian mountains and the deposition of dinosaur-fossil-bearing river gravels atop the unconformity: the Potomac Group. As a bonus, we'll even visit a thrust fault which ruptures the unconformity at the intersection of Adams Mill Road and Clydesdale Place, NW. It's a nice little jaunt through prehistory. However, this hike was extremely popular last year: we had ~300 people show up! So I've asked Cultural Tourism DC to institute a reservation system this time around: I'm limiting participation to 30 people per day. Act now to reserve your place by calling or e-mailing Cultural Tourism DC.

Here's two pictures of the mad crowds last spring. I get the heebie-jeebies just thinking about it:

Labels: action, dc, dinosaurs, geology, granite, metamorphism, sediment

A few more photos from the Buffalo trip last week... All of these were taken by Victoria, my Honors student.

Here's some malachite in the sandstone of the Whirlpool Formation: the field trip leader suggested this was due to brine flow through these rocks during the Alleghanian ("Alleghenian") Orogeny:

Herringbone structure ("reverse cross bedding") in the Gasport Formation, overlying the DeCew Formation, which appears flat-lying and calm in this photo, but just below this shows disrupted bedding suggestive of seismic activity:

I showcase a sample too big to lug back to the van (ripple marks):

Watch where you stand! In the Niagara Gorge, we see some evidence that the Gorge is widening through mass wasting processes. Here's a small gap / scarp opening up as a block of rock to the right slumps down into the Gorge:

Lastly, on the trip home, we had an obligatory getting-stuck-in-the-mud moment:

Eventually, we got unstuck and headed back down the road!

Labels: geologists, mass wasting, meetings, nova, primary structures, sediment, teaching, travel

On Wednesday, two students and I participated in an excellent field trip examining the sequence stratigraphy of the Niagara region. We saw uppermost Ordovician rocks (the Queenston Formation) and then a dozen Silurian formations, some of them only 3 meters thick, stacked atop on another in a stereotypical layer cake fashion.

The trip was led by Carl Brett, who did a great job. I wanted to showcase here a few of the photos I took that day. Here's Carl showing us Arthophycus trace fossils (interpreted to be the burrows of polycheate worms):

At Outwater Park, we found fossil stromatoporoid reefs. Stromatoporoids were primitive, layered sponges. These ones show glacial striations across their surface, a result of the outcrop being scraped by glaciers during the recent Ice Ages:

At another stop (on Lockport Junction Road) , there was a Leperditia ostracode-rich layer. Ostracodes are small arthopods, kind of like krill, but with bean-shaped shells.

At Pekin Hill, we looked at the Goat Island Formation, which showed ripped-up stromatoporoids deposited within it.

Here's a stromatoporoid that tumbled loose from the slope. I'm bringing this one back to Annandale to use as a teaching specimen. Note the upward-bulging dome of the stromatoporoid's internal layers.

One of our most amazing stops was hiking up into the Niagara Gorge. This is at the downstream end of the Niagara Escarpment, where the Falls once were. The adjacent town is Lewiston.

Here's Laura and Victoria in the Gorge, overlooking the Niagara River:

Now for some fossils from the Rochester Shale and other units exposed in the Gorge. Carl brought these out to show us what we might find. Here's a mouthwatering slab showing Dalmanites trilobites:

And a golf-ball sized cystoid (relative of crinoids, blastoids, and other echinoderms):

He had some Lingula dwelling traces, too. Lingula is a common inarticulate brachiopod that dwells / dwelled in vertical burrows beneath the seafloor mud:

Here's a shot of a crinoidal grainstone. This limestone is almost entirely made up of "sand" generated by broken up crinoid skeletons:

Some spectacular trace fossils (ichno-genus unknown) on a slab that was catching the rays of the sun just right:

And a close-up of the same slab:

And lastly, a nice slab showing tool marks:

It was really a great trip -- perfect weather, fascinating rocks, good company, and I felt nice and tired at the end of the day.

Labels: fossils, meetings, new york, nova, primary structures, sediment, silurian

On Tuesday afternoon, four students and I drove from Annandale, VA, up to Buffalo, NY, for the NE section meeting of the Geological Society of America. On the way, we crossed the Pennsylvanian Appalachians, and pulled over to examine some beautiful redbed exposures on the Pennsylvania Turnpike. I think these are in the Hampshire Formation, but I could easily be wrong about that, considering I've never been here before. Here's a few photos. First, some beautifully rhythmic alternations between sand and mud, now preserved as alternating layers of sandstone and mudstone:

Then, some nice "ball and pillow" structures, as heavy sand sank downward into squishy mud. In places, the mud skooshes upward in "flames":

And lastly and most amazingly (for me), some awesome exposures of flute casts. These are erosional scours into a layer of sediment by a current, which then fills in the scours (called "flutes") with sand, making these flute casts on the underside of the overlying layer of sand:

The flutes "point" upstream, and open up (and shallow) in the downstream direction. More later!

Labels: appalachians, meetings, nova, pennsylvania, primary structures, sediment, teaching

On one of my field trips last week, I collected this cobble of sandstone (penny for scale):

And here's the other side:

There's a delicate but telling geopetal indicator here in this sandstone: it shows us which way these sandstone layers were oriented in space when they were deposited as loose sand. Geopetal indicators give us "paleo-up," sometimes called the "younging direction." Classic examples include graded bedding, cross-bedding, and mudcracks. Here, it's a bit more subtle: small erosional "divots" in the layers of sand. These "divots" may be caused by something pushing down into the sand (the trace of an organism's trail), or may be caused by small amounts of scouring erosion. We only get to see them in two dimensions, so it's unknown whether they are simple pinpoints in three dimensions, or linear features -- perhaps even branching linear features. Reviewing the cobble's many layers, I've found three types of "divots":

Type 1 is a simple deflection of the the dark layers. It is more likely that the layer is deflected downward, but there is no guarantee: it could be a little lump of sand poking up from the bottom, too. In other words, Type 1 is not a completely compelling clue for paleo-up. Type 2 is more convincing as a geopetal indicator: here a lower layer or two has been actively scoured, and then an upper layer is draped over the scoured-out hole. Type 3 can also be seen though, and it's a weird one: I'm having a hard time coming up with a reason why two successive beds would both have a "divot" in the same location. Is this a squishing downward effect? For instance, were I to go stand on my bed, my weight would push downward on my comforter, but also the sheets underneath. They would both deflect from the bed's horizontal surface in the same downward direction. (Would this be a "duvet divot?")

See if you can find examples of all three in the photos above.

Labels: coastal plain, primary structures, sediment

Last week on one of the many field excursions, I found a nice cobble of amygdular basalt. Amygdules are vesicles (bubbles in degassing lava that didn't get the chance to pop before the lava solidified into igneous rock) that have been filled in with mineral deposits. In the mid-Atlantic, most amygdules are found in the Neoproterozoic lava flows of the Catoctin Formation, from which my cobble was presumably derived. The amygdules are typically filled in with zeolites, quartz, and jasper. This one doesn't show any jasper, but the basalt still appears to be basalt, too -- whereas the Catoctin typically is metamorphosed to greenstone / greenschist. I've noticed an association between jaspery amygdules and epidote formation in the metaingeous rock.

As with Skolithos-bearing Antietam Formation quartzite cobbles, clasts of the Catoctin deposited in the river gravels atop the Piedmont/Coastal Plain unconformity indicate a Blue Ridge provenance for the cobbles, and therefore a eastward-flowing river to deposit them 100 million years ago.

I took the cobble back to the lab and sliced it open on the rock saw. The brown circle in the background is a penny for scale.

Here's what the sawn surfaces look like after I sanded them down a bit and then scanned them:

Right purty, ain't it?

Labels: basalt, blue ridge, coastal plain, primary structures, sediment, virginia

I've already introduced you to two of my Honors students' field projects. Now for the last of the three -- Jason's project on the strained metaconglomerate of Klingle Road. Klingle Road is a "road" in D.C. that was damaged by a storm some years back, and never repaired. Some people have started using it as a park, while others clamor for the road to be fixed. Geologically, it's interesting because it exposes a rock unlike any other nearby: a distinctly foliated metaconglomerate. Because I am so clever, I call it the Klingle Road Metaconglomerate. It's part of the "Laurel Formation," which is one of many flavors of metagraywacke / accretionary wedge complex that make up the bulk of the Piedmont in this area. Here's some of the squished clasts that Jason is interested in:

We know these rocks got heated up a fair bit. How do we know this? Well, they flowed out into elongated shapes all oriented in the same direction for one (see the additional photos here). The outcrop is peppered with clusters of little plus-shaped protuberances: they are clusters of sericite (cryptocrystalline muscovite) in the shape of staurolite porphyroblasts. Staurolite is a reasonably high grade metamorphic mineral, and when we see the three-dimensional shape of staurolite, but it's been turned into relatively-low-grade sericite, it's an indication of "retrograde metamorphism." Basically, after hitting the peak of its particular metamorphic conditions (high temperature and pressure, growing staurolite), the rock is readjusting to lower temperatures and pressures, and those staurolite crystals are reacting to a mineral that's more stable at those lower temperatures and pressures: sericite.

But anyhow -- back to the metaconglomerate. It's made of clasts, and those clasts have been stretched. The question is: how much have they been stretched. Sometimes when strain estimates are made, we assume an initial sphere shape, and then measure the lengths of the various axes of the resulting ellipsoidal shape (the "strain ellipsoid"). But is the assumption of initial sphericity valid? Jason is testing this issue by measuring the axes of cobbles and pebbles from the metaconglomerate as well as loose cobbles and pebbles found in nearby Rock Creek. We want to get a sense of how ellipsoidal cobbles are before they experience orogenic shortening/stretching. Here's a shot of Jason, Spencer, and Victoria measuring cobble axis lengths on a gravel bar near the National Zoo:

And a shot of the crew close-up:

And, just for fun, here's one more shot from Victoria's field area on Broad Branch. We hiked up to the contact with the Kensington Tonalite (a ~464 Ma felsic intrusive rock -- essentially a granite) and found a series of small waterfalls over this resistant rock unit. In the sequence of cascades were a series of deep pools. I submerged myself in one of them:

Labels: appalachians, dc, field trips, nova, piedmont, sediment, structure, teaching

Picking up with my series of posts introducing the work my Honors students are doing this semester: today we'll take a look at Spencer's project, which involves field work on a bedrock terrace (strath) of the Potomac River near Chain Bridge (which can be seen in the background of this photo). As before, ignore the datestamp in the lower-right of the photo. These pictures were taken last week, not in 2004.

This is in the westernmost corner of DC's "diamond" shape. The bridge leads across the river into Arlington, Virginia. As you can see, there's a lot of rock exposure here -- the sort of thing we go crazy over here in the east. As noted before, this is metagraywacke (sometimes metamorphosed to schist, sometimes to gneiss, sometimes just strongly foliated, and sometimes so lightly metamorphosed / deformed that it even preserves original sedimentary structures like graded bedding. The interesting thing about the Chain Bridge locality is that in amongst the metagraywacke are big chunks of other rock types. I'll refer to these as "clasts." Some geologists have interpreted them as sedimentary deposits; others as "olistoliths" (tectonically emplaced chunks in an accretionary wedge complex). Spencer is in charge of documenting the variety of these clasts, in hopes that it may tell us something about their ultimate source. Here's a big elongate clast of gneiss:

We had a good little field routine going: Victoria and Jason would go scout out clasts, and then mark their location with a chalk arrow. Then Spencer would document each clast's lithology and characteristics (e.g. foliation at an angle to regional foliation) and then photograph it. Once he'd photograph it, he "checked it off" with chalk. All of this chalk graffitti gets washed away with the next big rainstorm.

Some of the clasts are no longer in their original condition. The one below, for instance, bears a multitude of garnets, metamorphic minerals which reflect how the clast's original composition reacted to the higher temperatures and pressures of Appalachian mountain-building.

Another thing we saw a lot of in the Chain Bridge locality is erosional features related to the incision of the Potomac River into bedrock. Here's Jason showing off a pothole that drilled all the way through one outcrop:

Next time, we'll take a look at Jason's project.

Labels: dc, field trips, geology, nova, sediment, teaching

Here's a view in the creek bed of Spencer and Victoria looking for kink band outcrops. (Ignore the date stamp in the lower right: it is not accurate.)

A nice kink band. Width of photograph is ~25 cm.

Victoria takes the strike of the metagraywacke's foliation:

Here's a Z-fold in the foliation -- more of a kink "knot" than a kink band. The kinematic sense of motion in this photo is top-to-the-right (right-lateral):

Here, Jason and Spencer measure the orientation of a kink band:

A nice little outcrop of crenulation cleavage, showing porphyroblasts of chlorite (green/blue) and garnet (red/brown). The pencil is parallel to crenulation "wrinkles".

Next time, we'll take a look at the projects that Spencer and Jason are working on.

Labels: field trips, geology, nova, sediment, structure, teaching

Walking around the mid-Atlantic Piedmont (my home territory), we find a lot of these fellows lying around. They are cobbles of the Antietam Formation (a Cambrian quartzite from the Blue Ridge) which were weathered out and transported eastwards (~60 miles or so, as you can probably deduce from their rounding). They were then deposited as part of the Potomac Group (Cretaceous river gravels draped over the metamorphic rocks of the Piedmont; preserved today on Piedmont hilltops and as the basal layer of the Coastal Plain). The cobbles display the vertical trace fossil "Skolithos" (sometimes spelled "Skolithus"), usually interpreted as a worm burrow. Each burrow is 2-3 mm in diameter. Here I've got a few photos: a cross-sectional view, a "plan" view, and a shot of one of the boulders in a stream in Arlington, VA.

Labels: blue ridge, coastal plain, fossils, piedmont, sediment

BLDGBLOG has put up a post the week before last about an idea to amputate the Mississippi River's outer "bird's-foot" delta and create a dumping of sediment along the periphery of the main Mississippi Delta. A quick review of the populated places in Google Maps suggests that not too many towns downstream would be cut off. The potential storm protection benefits for a wider wetlands storm buffer along the delta would outweigh the loss of even a medium-sized population center, it seems to me. I'm all for ditching New Orleans to the elements, but if we're going to hang on to it, then this would be an inexpensive way to protect that investment.

Labels: mississippi river, rivers, sediment