Entiat

We spent last week in the Entiat Valley and in the Entiat Mountains. These mountains are a bit of an oddity- they are more plateau-like than the rest of the jaggedy north cascade mountains. Our plans were to do another pack trip into this area, but attrition and snow cancelled these plans. Christine, Bob, and I were joined by a SJSU undergrad, Kelly. She's awesome.

Lunch on the mountain. Bob is pointing to Kelly Mountain (or Kelly? She's on the left and Christine is in the middle).

We spent 2 days doing very long day hikes and camping out of the world-famous Fox Creek campground. Fox creek is a great campground- clean water to drink (not always a given), pit toilets, spacious campsites. Nice, right?

We spent 3 nights at Fox Creek before yet another backpacking trip. During our 3 nights we experienced some very interesting neighbors. First we were joined by a large family of pyromaniacs. They came in, parked, and promptly started chopping at every log in sight. Their children spent a large amount of the evening hacking at a big, rotten log with the back end of a hammer. Whatever floats your boat, I guess.

We went to bed and were awoken by the smell of gasoline and a large explosion, followed by another explosion. This aggression would not stand, my friends. I got out of my tent and said something along the lines of "would you please be quiet?". I was tired, I can't completely remember what version of that statement I used. Another explosion followed a few minutes later. At this point we were all up.

Word to the wise- geologists carry 3 pound sledge hammers everywhere. We sleep with them. You remember that scene in Full Metal Jacket about the rifle? That's how we are with our hammers. So when crazy people start blowing things up around us, we pick up these hammers and things get serious.

The pyros had already ran into their tents, so no battle ensued (bummer?). Best we can figure, these wannabe rocket scientists filled glass bottles with gas and blew them up.
nice. Luckily they left the next day.

Two days later we were preparing to leave for our backpack when a car pulled into the same campsite as the pyros. Out came the largest plumber's crack I've ever seen. It had legs, arms, a semi-automatic rife, and a 24 pack of Budweiser. The crack walked to the river, sat down, and proceeded to pour each can of beer into the water. This took about 20 minutes, after which he walked back to his car, wiped away some tears, and drove away. Funny or sad?

We left for our backpack up the Tommy Creek Trail. This is a multi-use trail- it's open dirtbikes, horses, and hikers. Dirtbikes and mountain bikes are the bane of our existence- if you've ever hiked on a trail open to wheeled vehicles you know how awful they are- the constant erosion from the wheels turns the trail into a bowl, which as you can imagine isn't easy to walk on. Plus dirtbikers are lazy. And ugly. And they smell bad.

Maybe I want a dirt bike.

Our camp on the Tommy Creek trail was a dry camp, which meant that each day as we walked back we had to stop and pump water and carry it back to camp.

Bob pumping water for the walk back to camp. Kelly and Christine are stoked!

We did some great geology in a large plutonic (intrusive igneous rock- like granite) body called the Seven Fingered Jack. We found some white rocks and some very dark rocks (called hornblendites). Hornblendites are shockingly made of a mineral called hornblende. They are quite rare. They are quite heavy. They are quite necessary to date when you find them.

Bummer.

We did two and a half days of mapping along the trail and the ridge. The 7FJ (or the Jack, as we call it) is an elusive pluton- it's often hard to tell that you are actually looking at Jack, as opposed to its neighbors. Jack is pretty tall and skinny and is bounded by both older plutons and younger ones. Our job was to do some recon for a pack trip next year where we'll bring the whole crew (Adam, Scott, Jonathan) for more detailed work (like what we did last week in the sheeted zone). I'll date the samples we collected so we have a better idea of what rock types to look for next year (we're only interested in the 90-million-year-old Jack, so we'll pay less attention to older and younger rocks).

Meadows=Mosquitos. So many mosquitos.

Nice views.

Have you been exposed?

Mammas, don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys

Posting from Leavenworth, WA.

This is a long one, you might want to read it in pieces.

Never been here? Well it's a logging town that turned itself into a Bavarian nightmare to attract tourists. Totally worked. Tons of people wandering around pretending they are in Germany. There's an ordinance that everything in the central part of the town must look "German" so you have Der Shell Gasoline. Ha ha.

Our adventure began last thrusday after an epic shopping trip. Horsepacking isn't so much camping as it is lightweight RVing. We bought clams for an alfredo sauce, fresh vegetables, a total of 9 bottles of wine (not much, considering how long we were going). We showed up on Thursday morning to meet Aaron, our packer. This guy was THE REAL DEAL. Chaps, six-shooter, cowboy hat, Marlboros, a string of mules and one piebald horse. I was in love (don't worry kyle).

to ruin some of the fun- i slammed my pinky in the trunk 2 days ago. i am giving up on punctuation and capitalization. my apologies to the grammarophiles.

So we were 8- Jonathan, Bob (sjsu); christine and adam (osu), scott, devon, and georgina (usc/st. andrews), and me. the usc people took off after they dropped their stuff off for the packer- normal procedure. we dallied around, luckily, because shortly after the usc people left the packer weighed everything and proclaimed that we had too much stuff for the 4 animals. so the 5 of us did triage on the food- out went the wine (noooooooooooo!!!!), the bananas, the many cans of salsa. we got to an acceptable weight-still too heavy- and we took off while aaron loaded the animals.

Aaron disapproves of all our stuff.

the trail was divided into two parts- a MISH along the white river and a series of switchbacks to boulder meadows, our destination. because of the heavy snow, the trail had not been logged on the switchbacks, fortunately we had adam and jonathan- they cut 2 blowdowns while bob and i went ahead to look for anything impassable. (horses with heavy packs can't really go off the trail at all- aaron had a small hand saw on his saddle and an axe). having done trail crew (and looked at aaron's dull axe) i had quickly volunteered to scout ahead rather than cut blowdowns.

so no problems bigger than about a 1 ft diameter blowdown (poor adam and jonathan!)- bob and i waited for aaron to catch up, which he did. bob and i crossed boulder creek (crocs- knee deep for a few steps, very refreshing). i went ahead to catch up with aaron at the camp site, bob waited at the crossing for everyone else (scott was recovering from pnemonia and had a torn rotator cuff).

i crossed a few avalanche chutes filled with snow and went up another set of switchbacks and came up on aaron- unhorsed- and his pack mules. his mule mare had dropped him (he "stepped off", love it!) at a snow bridge that had partially collapsed. the snow had been eroded below by a stream- so it was about 4 feet from the stream base to the top of the snow. i found his mare tangled in some pine trees and led her down to poor aaron (he had been kicked by one of the pack mules as they passed him by). she was a very pretty little lady and very sane- no panicky baloney that east-coast horses are known to pull. she just stood there and let me untangle her and followed me down.

Aaron on Little Foot

so aaron and i got to the campsite- which was of course covered in snow. we each have a nip of whiskey, aaron has a marlboro, and we wait for bob- who showed up with bad news. Scott had taken a tumble in the stream and turned around so all the usc stuff had to go back down with aaron. bummer. at this point it's probably 5:30 in the afternoon and aaron has a 3 hour ride back. bummer bummer. we unpack everything repack the usc stuff. aaron and i go back to try and make the snow-bridge crossing more animal friendly. we say goodbye and i headed back to camp, where bob and i awaited everyone else and unpacked the stove and group equipment.

next, mule-mare (little foot) comes trotting back to our camp with the whole train in tow. aaron limping behind. i grabbed her reins (she and i are friends now) aaron gets re-horsed and we say goodbye again. this image would be funny if i didn't know how much pain he was in.

*********HORSE PEOPLE- I WILL NOT LEAD YOU INTO SADNESS************

The whole way up bob was talking about what happens if one of the animals gets badly injured. obviously you have to do some very tough things, like shooting it, gutting it, and carrying as much out as you can (and coming back for the rest). this weighed heavily on me as we worked on the snow bridge.

About 5 minutes after we said goodbye to aaron for the second time i heard a gunshot. as i started to cry, i ran to the snowbridge. all i could see was a pair of long ears sticking out of the buried stream. sobbing, i grabbed aaron's shoulder and told him i was so sorry- just as Little John (the mule) groaned. He hadn't shot the mule! He just needed help. Little john had gone a different way than everyone else and the snow had broken under him. LJ was caught between a pine tree and a bunch of snow. He was curled into a "C" and was having trouble breathing with the girth on. We cut off the pack that was accessible to us and started on loosening the girth- i was lying under the tree hoping LJ was sensible enough not to start kicking while i tried to get the girth loose. being a mule, he was indeed sensible enough not to do this.

Bob arrived and he and aaron started sawing the snow holding LJ's back end (he was lying on the axe) and finally he was ungirthed and freed. the only thing holding him down at this point was the chest harness- aaron gave me his knife and i cut this off. LJ popped up onto solid ground and took a big poop. aaron had another nip and a cig. just another day for a real cowboy.

we packed all the stuff that was on lj onto another mule and got lj across the chasm of attempted death. One last time, we said goodbye to aaron- who just had his foot in the stirrup when the rest of our group showed up over a little hill- spooking Little Foot. This mule went back across the snow bridge. Seriously. What a knucklehead. She stopped for a drink in the stream, maybe as an excuse not to be a total idiot. i was closest to her, so i grabbed her again. We said goodbye to aaron for good. he made it down fine and nobody had anything worse than a scratch.

After all this, you would think that we would get the most amazing geology ever. i have a picture for you.

mostly low-temperature crystalline hydrous oxygen.

we left 2 days after we arrived. we had to leave most of our food and gear for the packer to take out 4 days later. the scenery was amazing, though.

a view to little giants pass and the napeequa valley from boulder pass.

Instead we went and studied a very fun and interesting sheeted zone- light rocks and dark rocks layered like a cake. This isn't especially normal for magmas, so we are very interested in this! So cancelling the pack trip turned out fine. Christine and i are both super-excited to get these rocks into the lab. this layering could really tell us something interesting about how big granite bodies are put together.

layering in the sheeted zone. what are the ages of the different sheets? we'll find out!

we also went and did some other day hikes. mostly bushwhacking with the mozzies (mosquitoes).

bob in his element

what you can't see is the swarm of mozzies that follows Jonathan everywhere.

and i slammed my pinky in the trunk.

more next week. keep your axes sharp and your mules nimble.

Fast Times at Poplar Flats

So it's been a week. Sorry for the delay.

I left you in SEATAC. I did make it to EAT met up with my collaborators, Bob, Katie (both from SJSU) and Christine (from Oregon State University). Bob was my Masters advisor so we go back. Many miles have been spent behind the rocket-propelled structural geology professor from San Jose State. We spent several days on the Twisp Pass trail in the Twisp River Valley, surprisingly, the Twisp River runs through the valley and right by the campground.

On the Twisp Pass trail we were studying some very white rocks (called tonalites- composed of plagioclase, quartz, and a dark mineral called biotite). What we were looking for was variations in the whiteness, which we actually found. The idea is to determine if white rocks are different in age and chemistry from the less white rocks. Fun stuff crawling along lichenated rocks in the blazing sun looking for small variations in the number of dark minerals.

Then we went on a backpack to Louis Lake. Louis lake has haunted my nightmares since last year. Kyle and I went to this Mosquito Infested S Hole (a MISH) last year and found truly fantastic rocks. We only had a day last year so of course we had to go back this year. We hiked up (5 miles in 5 hours, we had a novice hiker). The first day we spent on the steep slabs, mapping in more detail evidence for mixing of different magmas. The next day we climbed 1000 feet above the lake under threatening skies. We got to the first awesome outcrop just as the first rolls of thunder began. Then the lightning began. My bowels got a bit looser (too much detail? sorry). Then it began to rain. So the 5 of us were up on the slopes in the pouring rain with lightning and thunder all around us. Just another day in the Cascades. At least nothing was on fire yet.

So we chickened out and hiked back to the car. It took most of our group about 2 hours to pack up, so Christine and I sat with our very heavy (remember- pack in food, pack out rocks!) packs.
Another 5 hours back to the car. I don't think I will ever have the patience to have children if they are as disorganized and slow as professors.

anyway. I've got to go help buy food. hopefully I'll have pics and more amusing stories next week.

I don't have a title.

So we left off at Evolution Lake. An appropriate place for scientists (although I don't think they turn away creationists at the gate). We spent a chilly night at the lake, with an amazing red sunset and purple moon rise. Every hiker that passed was sombre and tired-looking. We weren't sure how to take this, but we were about to find out.

Wake up, pack frozen frosty tent, start off. The Evolution basin is still dark purple and blue, no one was up yet in the hall of the mountain gods. We cross (wade across) the outlet of Wanda lake in the half-light. We're now stream connoisseurs , this is a pretty so-so crossing. Not even knee deep. sheesh.

Directly after this crossing was the herd path . Imprinted in the snow about 3-4 inches, this was the route that all the other hikers had taken the 4-5 miles to (or from) the pass. In the direction we were heading (southbound) it is a fairly gradual rise until the last push to the pass. Most years there is no snow here and you leave the greenery of Evolution Lake for the spectacular desolate moonscape of the upper lakes. Bearing names like Wanda, Helen, and Sapphire, these lakes are shockingly clear and devoid of the friendly trout of the lower lakes. The only life up here are the marmots sunning themselves on rocks and pikas hiding in the shadows. At the top of the pass is the fabled Muir Hut, constructed in memory of the stupefyingly verbose and craggy dead hiker.

So back to the herd path. As I may have stated, this isn't a normal year. This is an exceptionally abnormal year Wanda and Helen were buried in snow, dead to the world and sapphire had a decidedly diamond-like sparkle.

Lakes? I don't see no stinking lakes.

So most of this part of the journey was a lesson in patience. Nothing really scary, a few snow bridges. No crazy hikers. Nothing but endless snow. We got to the hut, greeted the fat marmot waiting for a handout, and took a break.

In contrast to the ascent, the descent from Muir Pass was terrifying. No one said anything about 6-inch ledges in the snow with steep 100-foot drop-offs into raging streams (that then disappeared underneath the snow). So the process would be, slip, scream, fall into the stream and get washed under the snow to die of hypothermia (or drowning). Accidents like this are not uncommon. This is the stuff nightmares are made of. Being a chicken I spent the next two miles dredging up my most sacred and rarely-used curses. Apparently this is how I react to being scared, but I've read the accident reports in the American Alpine Journal. Dumb people usually end up dead. Kyle took pictures of me and laughed (which probably proves I was exaggerating a little about how dangerous everything was).

I swear to god there is a rushing stream and steep drop-off to the left.

Into LeConte Valley. If you've been there you know how terrible it is. A really, really awful place. They should do the world a favor and put a mine or something in there. Spruce the place up a bit. It got even worse as we ascended up a series of switchbacks to our eventual camp, right before the Fearful and Terrible Dusy Creek Crossing. The park service warned that this creek may be uncrossable. Well too bad Ranger Danger, nothing, was going to get me back over Muir Pass. If I was going to be swept off the side of a hanging valley, so be it.

The view from camp. You can't see it, but the rocks were really fabulous.

So that was day 3. Saw a few people. Crossed some streams. hiked some miles. Still not dead.

Day 4. Woke up, put on crocs. Prepared for death by Dusy Creek. Said apocalypse highly over-rated. Had to take one step of waist-deep water, then ankle and knee deep. No problem.
Hiked up the awesome Dusy Basin. Being south-facing, this was the nicest basin we were in since it was mostly melted out. Met an insane climber doctor at the pass who was very nonchalantly showing off "oh maybe i'll go climb that peak" (scampers off). Yeah, ok doctor man, you do that.

Since our six day trip was about to be accomplished in 4 (and this was going as slowly as we were capable of) we stopped 3 miles short of the trailhead at the imaginatively-named Long Lake. My super-sweet campsite skillz found us an isolated site on the lake. We spend the rest of the day trying to goad each other into swimming. That lake was COLD.

About dinnertime we were joined by a day hiker family. why they felt that our campsite was the perfect spot to have a loong snack is beyond me. they did have a football-sized dog, so they couldn't have been very clueful. We talked loudly. I belched. We gave them evil stares. They were violating the code of the camper! No fear. I have no shame in the woods and I needed to change my underwear. No effect!! The Massachusetts White Shark had failed me! Later, we were joined by another clueless hiker who wanted to share our super-sweet site. Quick-thinking kyle said we were on our honeymoon. Clueless hiker practically ran away.

So that's that. We hiked out the next morning, filed a chastising trail report with the USFS and goofed around in Bishop for 2 days. Kyle left for Singapore this morning and I'm in SEATAC waiting for my flight to Wenatchee (airport code EAT, lol).

remember, if you can't have fun, you might as well suffer (quote from Conrad Anker).

We come from the land of the ice and snow

So, I have a lot to say, but it could get boring in one post, so I'll make it two. Second installment tomorrow. I'll start where I left off (see the last post).

After leaving las vegas, we drove to bishop. I had the bright idea to stave off altitude sickness and dehydration by making a concoction of vitamin water and water. We drank over a gallon of this on the drive, stopping approximately every forty miles to relive our over-extended bladders. It made for a slow trip and a lot of very happy desert vegetation.

We picked up our permit at the Bishop USFS Ranger Station. Our 60 mile, 6 day trip was called "ambitious" (note: most people are capable of crawling 10 miles a day). Warnings of postholing (falling through the snow up to knees/hips/head) for miles on end, raging streams, packs of raving mad yeti, icy passes, French Canadians, and overall misery were a little sobering. This is what rangers are paid to do, no matter how useless, unnecessary, or annoying their comments are. Being industrious MIT students we didn't let this scare us and went for a fortifying sushi dinner. We laid off the sake, though.

We packed for six days, figuring if we weren't halfway to the end by day three, we would turn around. We walked up to Piute Pass. Passed a very happy retiree and his very unhappy wife about to start an 8-day trip. Some snow, frozen lakes, blah blah. So far the snowmageddon of the Sierras was a no-show.

The view from Piute Pass into Humphrey's Basin

Snow does make sticking to established trails a bit difficult, so we had a bit of "choose your own adventure" down to below the snowline. It was a tame (but very wet, due to all the melting snow) adventure. Met some duffers who told us of horrific stream crossings to come. We were now intimidated and prepared ourselves for the worst. Turns out, we accidentally crossed the tsunami-creek without even knowing it. So the lesson learned is that if someone is wearing a bug net and there aren't any bugs they might not know what they are talking about.

So, day 1, 17 miles. No one swept away. Not one post hole. No yeti (or French Canadians, Johanna!). Total people count 3.

Day 2. Mostly hours of amazing hiking followed by a moment of sheer, utter, freezing terror.
Hiked up to the Evolution Valley. Yes, Virginia, there is a Mt. Darwin. The sheer, utter, freezing terror part was crossing Evolution Creek. We had done this once before, on our JMT hike. It was deep then. This year it was deeper.

Evolution "Creek". A good way to die.

We crossed in McClure meadow. Not at the waterfall above (duh?). This crossing (a easier, safer alternative to the regular crossing) was icy-cold and up to Kyle's thighs. Watching him cross, I gave up any pretense and took off my pants. If I was going to die, it was going to be in my $20 patagonia underwear with my pants wrapped around my neck. I stepped in. It was bone-numbing. Another step. Then another. At this point, I was up to my stomach in freezing, fast-flowing water. I felt much less like an adventurer and much more like a half-frozen moron. I lost my footing, then regained it and faced up stream. Screw you, Evolution Creek!! I took refuge on a partially submerged log in the middle of the creek. Groaning in pain as blood returned to my croc-clad feet- Kyle shouted for me to go for it or something equally encouraging. I was pretty happy on the log actually, but he had dinner in his pack so I had no choice but to continue. Back in above my waist and to the other side, followed by several minutes of primeval, deep utterances, but absolutely no swearing. None at all. Absent for the entirety of the trip so far, mosquitoes made an appearance to add insult to freezing injury.

So that was the crux of the day, if you will. Pants back on, shoes back on and some chocolate in my belly and we cruised up to Evolution Lake for an early finish to the day. Passing PCT hikers had warned us that Muir Pass was 5 snow-bound miles up from the lake so we decided to hit it in the morning, when the snow would be firm. We camped at Evolution Lake.

So ends day 2. No postholes (no snow, actually). No one swept away. ~12 PCT hikers (a few could be mistaken for Yeti). Not even a trace of French Canadian scat (cigarette butts). ~12-15 miles.

The view from our tent. So worth it.

WARNING!!! KISSING BELOW!!

The perfect place to be with my favorite person in the world.

Fear and Loathing

(Actually written July 10)
as we drive out from las vegas, past the billboards of a roided up Carrot Top and the embalmed Sigfried and Roy (and their white tigers). leaving the unblinking, swilling, yelling masses behind is not difficult- in exchange for Hustler's Erotic Dance Palace, we gainthe painted ladies of the Aztec Formation, overlain by the battleship grey Bonanza King. We disappear up highway 95 into the margin of the Basin and Range and their tilted strata, past bottlebrush yucca and the occasional cinder cone. At one point this region was a shallow inland sea, depositing the kilometers of limestone, dolostone and other marine sediments that now make up the mountain ranges that bound each basin.

I'm always very careful when I tell people that I'm going to las vegas, i want to be clear that I'm not staying. I would never want to be associated with the nickel punchers, blonde floozys, or bros reveling late into the hot vegas nights. As far as I'm concerned, vegas exists to keep everyone else away from the rest of nevada.

Prep Work

We leave in a little over a week for the field. First, Kyle and I will go visit the fantastic Sierras for a combination of vacation and training. Our trip is going to be considerably more snowy than we expected, but it should show us a totally new aspect of the amazing and beautiful Sierra Nevada mountains.

To prepare for the field season, Kyle and I have been hiking around the White Mountains, hiking longer and longer each weekend. The Whites are a perfect training ground, allowing anyone to hike as much elevation and mileage as they want, but still make it back to your car!

I've spent most of June in the lab and at the computer, preparing the last few samples for the mass spectrometer before I leave. Being a geochronologist is really the best of both worlds, you get to spend time in the field AND time in the lab. So you always can dream about the "other side of the fence"!